When the morning came, they bound the old man and took him to the

forest. On their way back home the boy said to his father, "Wait! I

will go back and get the rope."--"What for?" asked his father, raising

his voice. "To have it ready when your turn comes," replied the boy,

believing that to cast every old man into the forest was the usual

custom. "Ah! if that is likely to be the case with me, back we go

and get your grandfather again."

This exemplum is known in many countries and in many forms. For

the bibliography, see Clouston, "Popular Tales and Fictions,"

2 : 372-378; T. F. Crane, "Exempla of Jacques de Vitry" (FLS,

1890 : No. 288 and p. 260); Bolte-Polívka (on Grimm, No. 78), 2 :

135-140. The most complete of these studies is the last, in which are

cited German, Latin, Dutch, English, French, Spanish, Greek, Croatian,

Albanian, Bulgarian, Polish, Russian, Lettish, Turkish, and Indian

versions. Full as Bolte-Polívka's list is, however, an old important

Buddhistic variant has been overlooked by them,--the "Takkala-jataka,"

No. 446. This Indian form of the story, it seems to me, has some close

resemblances to our Pampango variant; and I give it here briefly,

summarizing from Mr. Rouse's excellent English translation:--

In a certain village of Kasi there lived a man who supported his old

father. The father regretted seeing his son toil so hard for him, and

against the son's will sent for a woman to be his daughter-in-law. Soon

the son began to be pleased with his new wife, who took good care of

his father. As time went on, however, she became tired of the old man,

and planned to set his son against him. She accused her father-in-law

of being not only very untidy, but also fierce and violent, and

forever picking quarrels with her, and at last, by constant dinning

her complaints in his ear, persuaded her husband to agree to take

the old man into a cemetery, kill him, and bury him in a pit. Her

small son, a wise lad of seven, overheard the plot, and decided to

prevent his father from committing murder. The next day he insisted

on accompanying his father and grandfather. When they reached the

cemetery, and the father began to dig the pit, the small boy asked

what it was for. The father replied,--

"Thy grandsire, son, is very weak and old,

Opprest by pain and ailments manifold;

Him will I bury in a pit to-day;

In such a life I could not wish him stay."

The boy caught the spade from his father's hands, and at no great

distance began to dig another pit. His father asked why he dug that

pit; and he answered,--

"I too, when thou art aged, father mine,

Will treat my father as thou treatest thine;

Following the custom of the family,

Deep in a pit I too will bury thee."

By repeating a few more stanzas the son convinced his father that

he was about to commit a great crime. The father, penitent, seated

himself in the cart with his son and the old man, and they returned

home. There the husband gave the wicked wife a sound drubbing, bundled

her heels over head out of the house, and bade her never darken his

doors again. [The rest of the story, which has no connection with

ours, tells how the little son by a trick made his mother repent and

become a good woman, and brought about a reconciliation between her

and his father.]

The chief difference between our Pampango variant and the "Jataka,"

it will be seen, is in the prominent rôle played by the wife in

the latter. She is lacking altogether in the Filipino story. The

resemblances are strong, on the other hand. The father plans to kill

the grandfather,--a turn seldom found in the Occidental versions,--and,

accompanied by his son, he goes out to the forest (in the Indian,

cemetery) to despatch the old man. The small boy's thinking (or

pretending to think) it a family custom to put old men out of the

way is found in both stories. Our Pampango variant appears to me to

represent a form even older than the "Jataka," but at the same time

a form that is historically connected with that Indian tale.

Of our two main stories,--"Respect Old Age" and "The Golden Rule,"--the

second is very likely derived from Europe. Compare it, for instance,

with Grimm, No. 78. The "machinery" of the wooden plates establishes

the relationship, I believe. This form of the story, however, is not

unlike an Oriental Märchen cited by Clouston (op. cit., 2 : 377). It

is from a Canarese collection of tales called the "Kathá Manjarí,"

and runs thus:--

A rich man used to feed his father with congi from an old broken

dish. His son saw this, and hid the dish. Afterwards the rich man,

having asked his father where it was, beat him [because he could not

tell]. The boy exclaimed, "Don't beat grandfather! I hid the dish,

because, when I become a man, I may be unable to buy another one for

you." When the rich man heard this, he was ashamed, and afterwards

treated his father kindly.

The Pangasinanes may have got this story of "The Golden Rule" through

the Church, from some priest's sermon.

Our first example, "Respect Old Age," is the only one of the three

which turns on the "housse partie" idea. This is the form found

in the thirteenth-century French fabliau "La Housse Partie;" and a

variant of it is given by Ortensio Lando, an Italian novelist of the

sixteenth century (Dunlop, 2 : 206). The only Spanish example I know

of is found in the fourteenth-century "El Libro de los Enxemplos"

(printed in Bibliotéca de Autores Españoles, vol. 51 [Madrid, 1884]),

No. CCLXXII. It runs in the original as follows:--

Patri qualis fueris, tibi filius talis erit.

Cual fueres á tu padre que trabajó por tí,

El fijo que engendrares tal será á tí.

Cuentan que un viejo dió á un fijo que lo sirvió mucho bien todos

sus bienes; mas despues que gelos hobo dado, echólo de la cámara onde

dormia é tomóla para él é para su mujer, é fizo facer á su padre el

lecho tras la puerta. É de que vino el invierno el viejo habia frio,

ca el fijo le habia tornado la buena ropa con que se cobria, é rogó

á un su nieto, fijo de su fijo, que rogase á su padre que le diese

alguna ropa para se cobrir; é el mozo apenas pudo alcanzar de su padre

dos varas de sayal para su abuelo, é quedábanle al fijo otros dos. É

el mozo llorando rogó al padre que le diese las otros dos, é tanto

lloró, que gelas hobo de dar, é demandóle que para qué las queria,

é respondióle: "Quiérolas guardar fasta que tú seas tal commo es

agora tu padre, é estonce non te daré mas, así commo tú non quieres

dar á tu padre."

Finally may be given another Indian story, No. 16 in the

"Antarakathasamgraha" of Rajasekhara (Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 139),

which connects the "divided-blanket" motif with the old "Jataka."

Rajasekhara flourished about A.D. 900. This story runs thus:--

In Haripura lived a merchant named Sankha, who had four sons. When

he became old, he handed over his business and all his wealth to

them. But they would no longer obey him; their wives mistreated him;

and the old man crept into a corner of the house, wasted by hunger

and oppressed with years. Once in the cold time of the year he asked

his oldest son, Kumuda, for a cloth to protect him from the night

frost. Kumuda spoke this verse:--

"For an old man whose wife is dead, who is dependent on his sons for

money, who is cut by the words of his step-daughters, death is better

than life."

But at the same time he said to his son Kuntala, "Give him that

curtain there!" Kuntala, however, gave the old man only half of the

small curtain. When the old man showed the piece to Kumuda, Kumuda

angrily asked his son why he had not given his grandfather the whole

curtain. Respectfully placing his hands together, Kuntala replied,

"Father, when old age also overtakes you, there will be ready for

you the half-curtain which corresponds to the one here." Then Kumuda

was shamed; and he said, "Son, we have been instructed by you; you

have become a support for us whose senses have been stupefied by the

delirium of power and wealth." And from that time on he began to show

his father love, and so did the whole family.

In conclusion, and by way of additional illustrative material, I give

in full another brief Tagalog moral tale which seems to be distantly

related to our stories. It was collected by Felix Guzman, a Tagalog

from Gapan, Nueva Ecija, who got it from his uncle. It is entitled

"Juan and his Father."

Five hundred years ago there lived in Pagao an old man, and his son

named Juan. The latter had a wife. As Juan's father was very weak on

account of old age, and could not do any work in the house, Juana,

his daughter-in-law, became discontented. One day the old man became

sick. He moaned day and night so constantly, that Juana could get no

sleep at all. So she said to her husband, "If you do not drive your

father away from the house immediately, I shall go away myself. I

cannot sleep, because he is always moaning." Juan then drove his poor

father away for the sake of his wife.

The poor old man went begging about the neighborhood. After a long

walk, he found at last a cave where he could live. After he had

recovered his health, he found in the cave a bag of ashes. He further

discovered, that, whenever he took some of the ashes and exposed them

to the light, they became money. Now the old man went back to his son

with the magic bag. On his arrival, he was welcomed, for the couple

saw that he was carrying a bag that might contain something useful

for them.

The old man next gave his son a certain sum of money, and said, "Juan,

with this you may find another wife." So Juan gladly took the money

and went and bought him another wife. When he returned, the old man

gave his son some more money, and said, "Go over there, Juan, and

buy an old man in that house to serve us as our servant." When Juan

reached the house where the other old man was, he said, "I want to

buy your father, the old man." Juan had scarcely got the sentence out

of his mouth when the son of the old man fell on him with a whip and

drove him away. Juan went running to his father, and said, "Father,

I only said that I wanted to buy their father, but they began to whip

me. Why did they do that?"

"You see," said the old man, "you can buy a wife with money, but not

a single father can you buy."

Compare this last story with No. 31.

TALE 35

COCHINANGO.

Narrated by Felix Y. Velasco, who heard the story from his grandmother,

a native of Laoag, Ilocos Norte.

Once upon a time there lived in a small village on the border of a

powerful kingdom a poor farmer, who had a son. This son was called a

fool by many; but a palmer predicted that Cochinango would some day

dine with the king, kiss the princess, marry her, and finally would

himself be king.

Cochinango wondered how he could ever marry the princess and himself

be king, for he was very poor. One day he heard that the king had

summoned all those who would like to attempt to answer the questions

of the princess. It was announced that the person who could answer

them all without fall should marry her. Cochinango thought that the

time had now come for him to try his fortune, so he mounted his ass

and rode towards the king's palace.

On his way Cochinango had to pass through a wide forest. Just at the

edge of the wood he met a weary traveller. Cochinango had forgotten

to bring buyo with him, so he asked the traveller for some. The

traveller said, "I have with me a magic buyo that will answer any

question you put to it. If you give me some food, I will give you my

buyo." Cochinango willingly exchanged a part of his provisions for

it. Then he rode on.

He came to a stream, where he met an old man leaning on his

cane. Seeing that the old man wanted to get on the other side, but was

too weak to swim, Cochinango offered to carry him across. In return

for his kindness, the old man gave him his cane. "You are very kind,

young man," said he. "Take this cane, which will furnish you with

food at any time." Cochinango thanked the old man, took the cane,

and rode on. It is to be known that this old man was the same one

who had given him the magic buyo. It was God himself, who had come

down on earth to test Cochinango and to reward him for his kindness.

Cochinango had not ridden far when he met a wretched old woman. Out

of pity he gave her a centavo, and in return she gave him an empty

purse from which he could ask any sum of money he wanted. Cochinango

rode on, delighted with his good fortune, when he met God again, this

time in the form of a jolly young fellow with a small guitar. He asked

Cochinango to exchange his ass for the guitar. At first Cochinango

hesitated; but, when he was told that he could make anybody dance by

plucking its strings, he readily agreed to exchange.

Cochinango now had to proceed on foot, and it took him two days

to reach the gates of the palace. Luckily he arrived on the very

day of the guessing-contest. In spite of his mean dress, he was

admitted. The princess was much astonished at Cochinango's appearance,

and disgusted by his boldness; but she was even more chagrined when he

rightly answered her first question. Yet she denied that his answer

was correct. She asked him two more questions, the most difficult

that she could think of; but Cochinango, with the help of his magic

buyo, answered both. The princess, however, could not admit that his

answers were right. She shrunk from the idea of being married to a

poor, foolish, lowly-born man. So she asked her father the king to

imprison the insolent peasant, which was instantly done.

In the prison Cochinango found many nobles who, like himself, were

victims of the guessing-match. Night came, and they were not given any

food. The princess wanted to starve them to death. Cochinango told them

not to worry; he struck a table with his cane, and instantly choice

food appeared. When this was reported to the princess by the guards,

she went to the prison and begged Cochinango to give her the cane;

but he would not give it up unless she allowed him to kiss her. At

last she consented, and went away with the cane, thinking that this

was the only way by which she could starve her prisoners. The next

day Cochinango asked for a large sum of money from his magic purse. He

distributed it among his companions and among the guards, and they had

no difficulty in getting food. Again the princess went to the prison,

and asked Cochinango for the purse; but he would give it up only on

condition that he be allowed to dine with the king. Accordingly he was

taken to the king's table, where he ate with the king and the princess;

but he was put in prison again as soon as the dinner was over.

At last Cochinango began to be tired of prison life, so he took up his

wonderful guitar and began to play it. No sooner had he touched the

strings than his fellow-prisoners and the guards began to dance. As he

played his guitar louder and louder, the inmates of the palace heard

it, and they too began to dance. He kept on playing throughout the

night; and the king, princess, and all got no rest whatsoever. By

morning most of them were tired to death. At last the king ordered

the guards to open the prison doors and let the prisoners go free;

but Cochinango would not stop playing until the king consented to

give him the princess in marriage. The princess also at last had to

agree to accept Cochinango as her husband, so he stopped playing. The

next day they were married with great pomp and ceremony.

Thus the poor, foolish boy was married to a princess. More than once

he saved the kingdom from the raiding Moros by playing his guitar;

for all his enemies were obliged to dance when they heard the music,

and thus they were easily captured or killed. When the king died,

Cochinango became his successor, and he and the princess ruled happily

for many years.

Notes.

I know of no parallel to this story as a whole; the separate incidents

found in it, however, are widespread.

The first part of the story--the prophecy concerning the hero recalls

the opening of many Märchen; but our narrative is so condensed,

that it is impossible to say just what material was drawn on to

furnish this section. The riddle-contest for the hand of a princess

forms a separate cycle, to which we have already referred (notes to

No. 25); but the turn the motive takes here is altogether different

from the norm. Our hero, provided with his magic buyo, has really

won the wager before the contest is begun. As for the magic objects,

the last three--cane, purse, guitar--we have met with before, with

properties either identical with or analogous to those attributed in

this story. The method of the hero's acquiring them, too, is not new

(cf. No. 27). The magic buyo, however, is unusual: it is very likely

native Ilocano belief, or else a detail borrowed from the Ilocanos'

near neighbors, the Tinguian (see Cole, 18-19, Introduction, for

betel-nuts with magic powers). In No. 25, it will be recalled, the

hero's magic ring furnishes the answer to the king's question, just

as the buyo does in this tale. Indeed, there may be some association

of idea between a buyo and a ring suggested here. The last part of

the story--the imprisonment of the hero, and his success in thwarting

the evil designs of the obstinate princess--is reminiscent of various

cycles of tales, but I know of no exact analogue.

With the general outline of the story of "Cochinango" might be compared

a Tagalog tale,--"The Shepherd who became King" (H. E. Fansler, 78

ff.), though the resemblances between the two are only vague. The

Tagalog story, it might be noted in passing, is connected with

the second half of Grimm, No. 17, and with Grimm, No. 165. For the

"sack full of words" in the Tagalog tale, see Rittershaus, 419-421

(No. CXVIII, and notes).

The reference at the end to raiding Moros appears to be a remnant of

very old native tradition.

TALE 36

PEDRO AND THE WITCH.

Narrated by Santiago Dumlao of San Narciso, Zambales.

Pedro was the son of a poor man. He lived with his father and mother by

the seashore. Early one morning his parents went to look for food,

leaving him alone in the house. He staid there all day waiting

for them to return. Evening came, but his father and mother did not

appear; some misfortune had overtaken them. Pedro felt very hungry,

but he could find no food in the house. In the middle of the night he

heard some one tapping at the door. Thinking that it was his mother,

he arose and went to meet her. When he opened the door, however,

he saw that it was not his mother who had rapped, but Boroka, [90]

whom children are very much afraid of. Now, Boroka was a witch. She

had wings like a bird, four feet like a horse, but a head like that

of a woman. She devoured boys and girls, and was especially fond of

their liver. As soon as Pedro opened the door, she seized him and

carried him off to her home in the mountains.

Pedro was not afraid of the witch; he was obedient to her, and soon

she made him her housekeeper. Whenever she went out at night to look

for food, he was sure to have flesh and liver for breakfast the next

day. Whenever the witch was away, Pedro used to amuse himself riding

on the back of a horse that would often come to see him. It taught

him how to ride well, and the two became great friends.

One day when children began to get scarce, and Boroka was unable to

find any to eat, she made up her mind to kill Pedro. She left the house

and went to invite the other witches, so that they might have a great

feast. While she was gone, the horse came and told Pedro of his danger,

and advised him what to do. It gave him two handkerchiefs,--one red

and the other white. Then Pedro jumped on the horse's back, and the

horse ran away as fast as it could. Not long afterward he noticed

that the witches were pursuing them. When they came nearer, Pedro

dropped the red handkerchief, which was immediately changed into a

large fire. The wings of the witches were all burnt off. However,

the witches tried to pursue the horse on foot, for they could run

very fast. When they were almost upon him again, Pedro dropped the

white handkerchief, which became a wide sea through which the witches

could not pass. Pedro was now safe, and he thanked the horse for its

great help.

Notes.

While this story is not much more than a fragment, I have given it

because of its interesting connections. The chief elements appear

to be three: (1) the kidnapping of the hero by a cannibal witch,

(2) the friendly horse, (3) the transformation-flight and the escape

of the hero. Clearly much is missing. What becomes of the hero is

not stated, except that he escapes from the witches. The story is

in the form rather of a fairy-tale than of a Märchen proper, since

it deals primarily with an ogress fond of the flesh of children. On

its surface it might be mistaken for a native demon-story told as

an exemplum to children not to answer strange knocks at the door

at night. But a glance below the surface reveals the fact that

the details of the story must have been imported, as they are not

indigenous,--Boroka, horse, transformation-flight; and a little search

for possible sources reveals the fact that this tale represents the

detritus of a literary tradition from Europe. To demonstrate, I will

cite a Pampangan metrical romance and a Tagalog romance, the former

probably the parent of our folk-tale. These two romances, in turn,

will be shown to be a borrowing from the Occident.

The Pampangan romance is a long story in 954 quatrains of 12-syllable

lines, and is entitled "Story of the Life of King Don Octavio and

Queen Teodora, together with that of their son Don Fernando, in

the Kingdom of Spain [no date]." The inside of the cover bears the

statement that the work is the property of Doña Modesta Lanuza. Señora

Lanuza was doubtless the redactor of this version; her name appears on

other corridos (see JAFL 29 : 213). Although a consideration of this

literary form takes us somewhat out of the realm of popular stories,

strictly speaking, we may give as our excuse for summarizing it the

fact that the related Tagalog romance, "Juan Tiñoso," is one of the

most widely-known stories in the Islands, and is told as a folk-tale in

many of the provinces where no printed translations of it exist. The

story of "Don Octavio"--or "Pugut Negro," as it is popularly known

among the Pampangans--runs as follows:--

In Spain there lived a king whose queen, in the ninth month of

pregnancy, longed greatly for some pau (a species of mango). As it

was the custom then to procure any kind of fruit a pregnant woman

might desire to eat, the whole kingdom was stirred up in search of

some pau, but in vain. At last a general and a company of soldiers

who had been sent out to scour the kingdom found a pau-tree in the

mountain of Silva; but the owner, a giant, Legaspe by name, would not

give up any of the fruit except to the king himself. When the king

was informed of this, he went to the giant, and was obliged to agree

that the giant should be the godfather of the expected child. Then

he was given the fruit.

Not long after this event the queen gave birth to a son. While the baby

was being carried to the church to be baptized, the giant appeared

and claimed his right. After the baptism, the giant snatched the boy

from the nurse's hands and carried him off to his cave. He found an

old woman to take care of the infant, which grew to be a fine youth.

Now, this giant fed on human flesh. One day, when the boy was about

fifteen, the giant gave this horrible command to the old woman: "If

I fail to catch any human beings for dinner to-day, you will have to

cook my godchild, for I am intolerably hungry." No sooner had the giant

disappeared than the old woman woke up the youth, and said to him,

"My master wants me to cook you for his dinner, but I cannot do such

a thing. I will save you. Yonder you see a horse. Fetch it to me,

so that we can depart at once." The boy got the horse, and he and

the old woman mounted it and rode off as fast as they could.

They had not gone very far, however, when they heard the giant roaring

after them. The old woman immediately dropped her comb to the ground,

and it became a big mountain. Thus they gained some time; but the giant

was soon after them again. The old woman dropped her pin, which became

a dense underbrush of thorns; but the giant got through this too. Now

the old woman poured out the contents of a small bottle, and all at

once there was a large sea, in which the giant was drowned. By this

time the two companions were a great distance from Spain. Then the old

woman said to the young prince, "Take this whip. On your way home you

will see a dead Negro. Flay him, and put on his skin so that you will

be disguised. Cultivate humility, be kind to others, and look to the

whip in time of need." Having given these directions, the old woman,

who was none other than the Virgin Mary in disguise, disappeared.

Pugut-Negru ("disguised Negro") went on his way, and soon found

the dead Negro. When he had flayed him and put on the black skin,

he mounted his horse and rode facing its tail. When he reached the

capital of Albania, he was greatly ridiculed by every one. However,

he went to the king and applied for work. The king said that he might

take care of his sheep which were in a certain meadow. When he had been

conducted to the meadow where the sheep were, he saw the bones of many

men. It was said that every shepherd in that place had been killed by

"spirits" (multos). That night the spirits threw bones at Pugut-Negru;

but he chastised them with his whip, and was left in peace.

This Negro disguise of Prince Fernando, however, was only for

Albania. Leaving Albania for a time, he went in his princely garments

to visit his parents. He found them in the power of the Moors, who had

conquered the kingdom of Spain. With his whip he drove all the Moors

out of the country, and freed his family. Later he went to Navarre,

and won a tournament and the hand of the princess. Instead of marrying

her, however,--for he had already fallen in love with the youngest

daughter of the King of Albania,--he went back and resumed his old

work as shepherd, disguised as a Negro.

Some time afterwards it was proclaimed that whoever could cure the

king's illness would be amply rewarded. The king had an eye-disease,

but none of the learned doctors could help him. Finally it was said

that Pugut-Negru knew how to cure eye-diseases, and so the king

summoned him. "If you can cure my disease," said the afflicted king,

"I will marry one of my daughters to you. If you cannot, you shall be

hung."--"I'll do my best, your Majesty," said Pugut-Negru humbly. Then

he gathered certain herbs, and applied them to the king's eyes. The

king soon got well, and asked his three daughters which of them wanted

to marry his savior. "I won't!" said the eldest. "Neither will I,"

rejoined the second. But the youngest and prettiest one said, "I am

at your disposal, father." So Pugut-Negru took the youngest for his

wife. After the ceremony he went back to his sheep, but he did not

live with his wife; he left her at the palace.

It was not many months after the king had been cured when the queen

fell ill. As before, it was proclaimed that any one who could cure her

would receive one of her daughters in marriage. Two princes presented

themselves, and promised to get the lion's milk that was needed to

make the queen well. After they had started on their search, they

came to the dwelling of Pugut-Negru, whom they forced to accompany

them. Pugut-Negru pretended to be lame, and so he could not keep

up with them. As he was so slow, they mercilessly threw him into a

bush of thorns and left him there. But he said to his magical whip,

"Build me at once, along the road in which the two princes will pass,

a splendid palace; and let lions, leopards, and other animals be about

it." No sooner was the order given than the palace was built, and

Pugut-Negru was in it, attired like a king. When the two princes came

up, they said to him, "May we have some of your lion's milk?"--"Yes,

on one condition I will give you the milk: you must let me brand

you with my name." Although this condition was very bitter to them,

they agreed. Then they hastened back to present the milk to the queen,

who at once married them to her two older daughters. Pugut-Negru went

back to his old life as shepherd.

Not long after this event the Moors declared war on the Christians. The

king's country was invaded, and the Christians were about to

be disastrously defeated, when a strange knight with a magic

whip (Pugut-Negru) appeared on the field and put the Saracens to

flight. This knight wounded himself in his left arm so that he might

receive the attention of the princess. The king's youngest daughter

(Pugut-Negru's own wife) dressed his wound without recognizing her

husband. After the battle was over, the knight said to the king,

"Do you know where my brother Pugut-Negru lives?" But the king was

ashamed at the way he had treated Pugut-Negru, so he denied all

knowledge of him. Although the king pressed the strange knight to

come to the palace, he refused. He hastened back to his sheep, and

donned his disguise once more.

One day the youngest princess, the wife of Don Fernando, went

stealthily to the hut of Pugut-Negru. She found him undisguised,

and at once recognized her handkerchief with which she had tied

the strange knight's wound. She embraced her husband with joy, and

hastened back to the palace to tell the king of her discovery. The

king immediately despatched his prime-minister to the hut in the

fields, and Don Fernando was brought back in state. When he had

been welcomed to the palace, he told all about his treatment by the

two cruel princes, who he said were his slaves. When the king was

convinced of their imposture,--they said they had got the lion's milk

by their own bravery,--he drove them and their heartless wives from

his kingdom. After many other adventures, in which he was always

successful, Don Fernando took his wife Maria to Spain, where they

lived with his father, King Octavio.

While it is not absolutely certain that our folk-tale of "Pedro and

the Witch" was derived from the first part of this romance, I think

it most likely. The problem here is the same as that we have met with

in the notes to Nos. 13, 16, and 21: Which are earlier,--the more

elaborate literary forms, or the simpler popular forms? Obviously no

general rule can be made that will hold: each particular case must be

examined. In the present instance, as I have shown at the beginning

of the note, the evidence seems to point to the folk-tale as being

the derivative, not necessarily of this particular form of the story,

but at any rate of the source of the romance.

The romance of "Prince Don Juan Tiñoso, Son of King Artos and

Queen Blanca of the Kingdom of Valencia, and the Four Princesses,

the Daughters of Don Diego of Hungary," which we have spoken of

above as a Tagalog romance, has been printed also in the Pampangan,

Visayan, Ilocano, Bicol, and Pangasinan dialects. As to the date of

the Tagalog version, Retana mentions an edition between 1860 and 1898

(No. 4176). This romance is not directly connected with our folk-tale,

it will be seen, but is related closely (in the second half, at least)

with "Pugut-Negru." Briefly the life of Juan Tiñoso runs thus:--

King Artos and Queen Blanca of Valencia had one son, Don Juan

Tiñoso,--handsome, brave, strong, kind. One day, while passing the

prison, Don Juan heard sounds of great lamentation. On being admitted,

he saw the giant Mauleon, a captive of his father's. Moved by the

giant's entreaties, Juan freed him; and the monster, grateful in

return, gave him a magic handkerchief that would furnish him with

everything he wanted, and would, if displayed, subdue all wild

animals. Then the giant departed. King Artos, extremely wroth

with his son for freeing one of his captives, drove Juan out of

his kingdom. Juan went to the mountains, and there became king of

the animals.

One night Juan dreamed of the beautiful Flocerpida, the youngest and

most beautiful of the four daughters of Diego, King of Hungary. But,

determined to do penance for the liberty he had taken in freeing

Mauleon, Juan asked his magic handkerchief for the disguise of an

old leper, which he vowed he would wear for seven years. He went to

Hungary and entered the service of King Diego as a gardener. The

princess Flocerpida was very compassionate toward the old leper,

and Juan's love grew stronger. One night, when Juan was bathing,

Flocerpida saw him without his disguise, and immediately fell in love

with him. One day King Diego summoned all the knights of his kingdom,

so that his daughters might choose husbands. The three older princesses

threw their golden granadas, which were caught by men of rank; but

Flocerpida refused to throw hers. Angry, the king next day ordered

all his subjects to be present, and required his daughter to throw

her golden apple. She threw it to the old leprous gardener, and the

two were married; but the king drove his daughter from the palace.

Soon King Diego grew sick. The doctors prescribed lion's milk, and the

three noble sons-in-law set out to get it. They forced the gardener,

their brother-in-law, to go with them, reviling him all the way;

but, as he was on foot, they soon left him behind. By means of his

magic handkerchief, Juan procured a prince's armor and mount, and,

riding fast, he anticipated his brothers-in-law at the cave of the

lioness. They soon came up and asked for milk. Juan, king of the

animals, would give it to them only on condition that they allowed

themselves to be branded on the back with an inscription saying that

they were the servants of Don Juan Tiñoso. They agreed, and received

the milk. On the return Don Juan again outstripped them, resumed his

old disguise, and was reviled by the brothers when they came up. King

Diego drank the milk and recovered his health.

Later King Diego received an embassy from the Moors saying that

they were coming to fight him. He appointed his three sons-in-law

generals. While they were at the war, Juan Tiñoso summoned three

giants, and told them to go fight the Moors too, to get the Moorish

flag, and to exchange it with the generals for their three golden

granadas. On the return of the Christian army, a big fiesta was

prepared to honor the successful princes. King Artos and Queen Blanca

of Valencia were invited. On the first day some of the guests asked

about Flocerpida, and the king gave orders that she should appear

on the morrow in an old beggar's gown that he was sending her;

but Juan Tiñoso supplied her with beautiful clothes and a coach,

and he himself was dressed as a prince. They went to the fiesta,

where, in the presence of the king, he demanded his three servants,

pointing to his three brothers-in-law. They were made to undress,

and the brands on their backs became clear. Then Juan Tiñoso told his

story: he said that it was he who obtained the lion's milk, who won

against the Moors, (and showed the golden granadas exchanged for the

enemy's standard.) King Diego and King Artos were then reconciled to

him and Flocerpida, and the other three princes and their wives were

driven out of Hungary.

Next to "Doce Pares" and "Bernardo Carpio," this romance is the most

popular of the metrical romances circulating in the Philippines. It

is read, told as a folk-tale, and acted as a moro-moro (see JAFL 29 :

205 [note], 206). It belongs to the same cycle of stories as Grimm,

No. 136, "Iron John," which has many members. (For bibliography,

see Köhler-Bolte, 330-334; Cosquin, I : 138-154.) These members

vary greatly, and some of them (e.g., Cosquin, No. XII) establish

definitely the connection between the "Pugut-Negru" type--kidnapping

of hero, friendly horse, transformation-flight, disguise of hero,

etc.--and the "Juan Tiñoso" type, although it will be seen that our

second romance lacks the first three incidents mentioned.

This whole family of stories is one well worth studying in

detail. Unfortunately the war has held up the appearance of

Bolte-Polívka's "Anmerkungen," Volume III, which is to contain

the notes to the Grimm story; but, with the references furnished by

Köhler-Bolte and Cosquin, a good beginning towards such a study might

be made. Compare also Rittershaus, No. XXlV and notes; Von Hahn,

No. 6 and notes; Macculloch, 173.

It might be added as an item of some interest that "Juan Tiñoso"

is written as a sequel to another story of widespread popularity,

"The Story of Prince Oliveros and Princess Armenia in the Kingdom of

England, and that of Prince Artos and Princess Blanca, who were the

Father and Mother of Don Juan Tiñoso in the Kingdom of Valencia." This

tale of Oliveros and Artos is directly derived from a Spanish romance

of chivalry, and is one form of the "Grateful Dead" type (see Gerould,

"The Grateful Dead," FLS 1907).

TALE 37

THE WOMAN AND HER COLES PLANT.

Narrated by José Hilario of Batangas, who says that the tale is common

among the Tagalogs, especially among the people living in the city

of Batangas.

One summer afternoon I saw several men talking to one another. They

seemed to be lively and enjoying themselves, for they had finished

their work for the day. I went towards them; and, upon coming within

earshot, I found out that they were telling tales to one another. The

following was one of the stories I heard that afternoon:--

Once there lived a very poor woman. She lived practically by begging,

but sometimes she got money with which to buy rice by selling small

vegetables in the market. She had a little garden, and one day planted

some seeds. Out of one of these seeds there grew up a plant which we

call coles. [91] This plant grew very fast, and in a few months it

reached the sky.

Out of curiosity, one day the woman began to climb the plant. When she

was assured that it was strong, she kept on climbing, and did not stop

until she reached the sky. There she called to St. Peter, and asked

him to give her a magic wand from which she could ask anything she

wished. St. Peter gave her what she asked for, but told her not to

disturb him again. Then she descended, and went down so quickly that

she almost hurt herself. When she reached her little hut, she at once

asked the wand for food. Immediately there appeared a table on which

was the best food in the world. When she had finished eating, she

commanded the table to disappear, and it disappeared instantly. Now

she became very proud on account of her wonderful possession. She

did not recognize her friends any more.

One day an archbishop arrived in the town in which she was living,

and all the bells were rung in his honor. She then became very angry,

and wondered why the bells were not rung for her whenever she passed

in front of the church. So she went to the tower where the bells were,

and commanded them to toll for her. They began to ring, but she was

struck on the head and was knocked senseless. When she recovered,

she hastened home, and began to climb the plant to ask St. Peter for

another gift; but, before she had covered one-half the distance to

the sky, the plant broke, and she was killed by her fall. Thus she

was punished for her vanity.

Notes.

This story is a sort of exemplum of the sin of pride and avarice. In

this respect it is connected in idea with Grimm's story of "The

Fisherman and his Wife" (No. 19). In its method and machinery, again,

it belongs to the "Jack and the Beanstalk" cycle, the main feature of

which is a magic plant which grows rapidly until it reaches the sky

and enables its owner to climb to the upper regions and secure magic

articles. Macculloch devotes a whole chapter (XVI) to the discussion

of this cycle, and cites many folk-tales turning on the incident

of the magic plant reaching from earth to heaven (see especially

pp. 434-435). Brief, and lacking in detail though our story is, it is

nevertheless interesting as a combination of incidents from the two

cycles just mentioned; and in its combination it shows, I believe,

that it has been derived from some southern European Märchen,--such a

one, perhaps, as the following from Normandy (given in Köhler-Bolte,

102-103), the story of poor Misère and his ever-dissatisfied wife:--

Misère meets Christ and St. Peter, and begs from them. Christ gives him

a bean, and tells him to be satisfied with it. Misère goes home with

his gift, and sticks the bean in the hearth inside his hut. Straightway

a plant grows out of the bean, and rapidly pushes its way up through

the chimney. The next day its top is entirely out of sight. The wife

now orders Misère to find out if there are any beans on it ready

to be picked. He climbs up the plant, and, since he finds no pods,

continues higher and higher, until he finds himself before a large

golden house. This house is Paradise. St. Peter opens the door for

him, and in answer to his request promises him that he will find at

home food and drink. The next day Misère's wife gives her husband no

rest until he again climbs up to Paradise and asks St. Peter for a

new house. Some days later Misère is again forced to visit St. Peter

and ask him to make him and his wife king and queen. The saint fulfils

this wish likewise, but warns Misère against coming any more. In brief,

however, Misère's wife is still unsatisfied, and even wishes to become

the Holy Virgin and her husband to be made God himself. When Misère,

with this request, comes again to Paradise, St. Peter angrily sends

him away; and the poor man finds on earth his old hut and everything

else just as it was in the first place.

Köhler (ibid., p. 103) says that probably the heaven-reaching plant

did not originally belong to this story of the poor man's proud wife,

and that it was probably taken over from the English folk-tale of

"Jack and the Beanstalk." Bolte and Polívka, in their notes to Grimm,

No. 19 (1 : 147), observe: "It can easily be seen that these stories

(i.e., the variants of the 'Fisherman and his Wife') fall into two

groups. In the one, which is particularly widespread among the Germanic

and Slavic peoples, but is also found in France and Spain, a captive

goblin in the form of a fish grants his captor three or more wishes;

among the French and Italians, on the other hand, it is usually God

or the door-keeper of heaven who grants the same wishes to a poor

man who reaches Paradise by means of a bean-stalk. This beanstalk

here may have originated from the story of 'Jack and the Beanstalk'

or from the 'lying-story,' Grimm No. 112." In a French folk-tale

given by Carnoy (Romania, 8 : 250), "La Tige de Fève," the husband

plants a bean which he has received from a beggar, and climbs up the

stalk to heaven. When he asks for his last wish, he plunges down to

earth. This story, it will be seen, resembles ours in its tragic

conclusion, although the protagonist, as in the Normandy version,

is a man instead of a woman. The fact that in our story no husband is

mentioned counts for little, as practically all the exempla of this

type are directed against woman's vanity; and the woman's case in our

story illustrates the punishment for that vanity, or pride. There

appears to be recorded no Spanish story containing the insatiable

wife and the heaven-reaching plant. It seems reasonable to conclude,

therefore, that our folk-tale was derived from the French or Italian,

and probably through the medium of the clergy.

TALE 38

A NEGRITO SLAVE.

Narrated by Jesus de la Rama, a Visayan from Valladolid, Negros

Occidental.

Once upon a time there were three princes who owned a Negrito

slave. Although he was called a slave, he was not really one: he was

only nominally a slave; for the princes, especially the youngest, whom

he loved most, treated him kindly. One striking characteristic of this

Negrito was that his grinning was like that of a monkey; and he often

grinned, and grinned without cause. He would often follow his young

master when he went out for a walk; and he had a suit similar to the

prince's, so that, when they were out on the street, they looked very

much alike. The only difference between them was that he was black,

and the prince was white. Yet he owned a ring, a charm which had been

given him by a woman for saving her from the hands of a robber. This

ring gave him power to call for anything he wanted; and this was the

reason, doubtless, why he was treated with kindness by his masters.

In a neighboring land there was a king who had a beautiful

daughter. This princess wanted to marry. She was so desirous

of having a companion, that she could not sleep day or night,

meditating on how she could have a husband that would suit both

herself and her father. At last, won over by her many entreaties,

the king proclaimed to all the world that his daughter would marry

any one who had a handsome appearance, and who could answer his three

difficult questions. Those who came to the court and were unable to

answer the questions of the king were to lose their lives.

The three princes were all handsome. The two elder brothers tried

to answer the king's questions, but lost their lives. The youngest

remained, and, although he wanted to try, he was sure that he would

fail too. The Negrito determined to help him. By means of his ring he

was able to make his skin white. He also got a mask that was exactly

like the face of his young master. Then he dressed himself to resemble

the prince, and went to the court of the king. The king said to him,

"Will you have your head cut off, too?" He answered, "Yes, if I cannot

answer your questions; but let us see!"

"All right," said the king. Then he asked, "Who owns this kingdom?"

The prince answered, "God owns this kingdom." The king was surprised

at his bold reply. However, he could not say that it was not God's,

for that would be untrue: therefore he could not compel the prince

to answer that it was his, the king's. The next question was this:

"How much am I worth?"

The prince answered, "You are not worth more than thirty pieces of

silver." The king was furious when he heard this, and said that,

if the prince could not give a good reason for his insulting words,

he would be put to death instantly.

"Yes, yes!" said the Negrito. "Our Saviour was sold for that much:

therefore you, who are inferior to the Saviour, cannot be worth more

than he was sold for." The people at the court were astounded by

this bold answer; and they murmured to one another, "The prince is

wise. He is wise, indeed!"

"Well," said the king, "answer this third question, and you shall

be married to my daughter: Can you drink all the fresh water in

the world?"

"Yes," said the prince.

"Well, then," said the king, "drink it."

"But here," answered the prince, "in many parts of the world the

water of the ocean mixes with the fresh water: so, before I drink,

you must separate the fresh water from the salt." As the king was

unable to do this, he acknowledged himself vanquished.

"All right," said the king. "To-morrow come here for the wedding." The

Negrito hastened home, and told his young master all that had

happened. The prince gave him five thousand pesetas, and promised him

that he would urge the princess to give her consent to the marriage

of the Negrito with her maid of honor. The next morning the prince

and the princess were married, and the following day the Negrito

received the maid of honor for his wife.

Notes.

Like the preceding, this story was doubtless imported from Europe,

and probably through the medium of the religious. The occasion for the

three questions, as well as the questions themselves, varies widely

in the many different forms of the story; but the relationship among

the members of the cycle is unmistakable. A general outline that would

embrace most of the variants is this: A certain person, on penalty of

losing his head if he fails, is required to give satisfactory answers

to three (or four) difficult questions; a friend of the contestant,

who resembles him, wears the other's clothes, and answers the questions

ingeniously, thus saving his friend's life and winning a considerable

reward for him and himself. The fullest bibliography of this cycle

is that given by Oesterley in his edition of Pauli's "Schimpf und

Ernst" (Stuttgart, 1866), p. 479. For other references to the group

of stories, see Grimm, No. 152, and his notes; Rittershaus, 404-408

(No. CXV, "Der König und der Bischof"); Köhler-Bolte, 82 (on Moncaut's

French story "Le Meunier et le Marquis"), 267 (on J. F. Campbell's

No. 50), and 492 (on the Turkish Nasreddin's 70th jest).

The opening of our story is like that of many of the tales in the

"Bride Wager" group, in which the youngest of three brothers, after

the two older have lost their lives, risks his. Compare, for instance,

the European variants cited in our notes to No. 21. This opening,

which does not belong to our present cycle, was doubtless attached

to the story of the three questions in the Islands themselves. The

combination does not appear to have been very happily effected,

although it is easy to see the basis for the association (cf. Von

Hahn's formula 24 and bibliography). Very little distinction is made

between the good qualities of the three brothers, and the Negrito's

determination to help the last only is not motivated. The Negrito

himself, however, is necessary to the story,--he takes the place of the

miller in most of the European forms,--and he had to be fitted in as

best he could. The magic ring of the slave, with the aid of which he

is able to make himself look exactly like his master, does not appear

in any of the other variants that I know of. In many of the European

forms the occasion of the questions is this: A king or a nobleman

becomes angry with a priest or bishop, and threatens him with death

if he cannot answer within a definite time three questions that are

put to him. As the chief interest of the story is in the solving of

the riddles or problems, it is easy to see how there might be a wide

variation in setting if the story passed around much by word of mouth.

The questions themselves are curious. Here are some of those found in

the European versions: (1) How much water is there in the sea? (2)

How many days have passed since Adam lived? (3) Where is the centre

of the earth? (4) How far is it from earth to heaven? (5) What is the

breadth of heaven? (6) What is the exact value of the king and his

golden crown? (7) How long a time would it take to ride around the

whole world? (8) What is the king thinking of this very moment? (9)

How far is fortune removed from misfortune? (10) How far is it from

East to West? (11) How heavy is the moon? (12) How deep is water?

Some of the answers to these questions are clever; others are only less

stupid than the persons who asked the questions. The solutions to the

twelve just given are: (1) "A tun."--"How can you prove that?"--"Just

order all the streams which flow into the sea to stand still." This

reply is not unlike the counter-demand to the third question in our

story. (2) "Seven; and when they come to an end, they begin again." (3)

"Where my church stands: let your servants measure with a cord, and

if there is the breadth of a blade of grass more on one side than on

the other, I have lost my church." (4) "Just so far as a man's voice

can easily be heard." (5) "A thousand fathoms and a thousand ells:

then take away the sun and moon and all the stars, and press all

together, and it will be no broader." (6) This question is answered

exactly as the second in out story. (7) "If you set out with the

Sun and ride with him, you will get around the earth in twenty-four

hours." (8) "The king thinks I'm an abbot, and I'm only a shepherd

(or miller)." With this question and answer compare the last task

in our No. 25. (9) "Only one night, for yesterday I was a shepherd,

and to-day I am an abbot." (10) "A day's journey." (11) "A quarter

(of a pound): if the king doesn't believe it, let him weigh the moon

himself." (12) "A stone's throw."

The method of answering the questions asked in this cycle of

stories, and the obscure origin of the clever substitute, form a

direct connection, I believe, between this group and the "Clever

Lass" cycle. Not only do we find in both the situation of a person

out of favor required to answer difficult riddles, and the task

assumed voluntarily by some one humbler but more clever than he,

but even some of the questions themselves, and the same style of

answers, are found in both cycles. For example, compare questions and

answers 1, 3, 5, 7, above, with tasks 1, 2, 4, in the notes to our

No. 7. In Grimm, No. 152, "The Shepherd Boy," the hero is asked three

questions impossible to answer,--How many drops of water are there

in the sea? How many stars are in the heavens? How many seconds has

eternity? He gets out of his difficulty just as the "Clever Lass"

gets out of hers,--by making equally impossible counter-demands,

or else giving answers that cannot be proved incorrect.

TALE 39

ALBERTO AND THE MONSTERS.

Narrated by Pacita Cordero of Pagsanjan, Laguna. She says, "This

story is common among the Tagalogs. It was told to me by my nurse

when I was a little girl."

Once there was a king in Casiguran named Luis. King Luis had three

beautiful daughters, but the youngest was the fairest of all. One

day the three princesses went to the orchard to amuse themselves. It

happened that on that day the wind blew very hard, and they were swept

away. The king felt very sad over the loss of his daughters; and he

issued proclamations in all parts of his kingdom, saying that any

one who could find his daughters within three days would be allowed

to choose one of the three for his wife.

At that time there was also in the neighboring kingdom of Sinucuan

a king who had a brave son named Alberto. When Alberto heard of the

matter, he went to the king, and said that he would look for his lost

daughters. King Luis accepted his offer. Prince Alberto now began

his search. He walked and walked until he came to a large forest

where he found two boys fighting. "What are you fighting about?" he

said. The one answered that the other boy was taking his boot away

from him. Alberto then said to the other boy, "Why don't you give

the boy his boot? The boot is old." The boy said that the boot, if

worn by any one, would carry him to whatever place he wanted to go,

provided he kicked the ground. To settle the contest between the

two, Prince Alberto took the boot from them, and said, "Go over by

that large tree, and the one who can run here first shall have the

boot." While the boys were walking towards the tree, the prince put on

the boot and kicked the ground. He was at once carried far away. When

the boys got back to the original place, Alberto had disappeared.

At the place where the boot carried him Alberto found two young men

fighting over a rusty key. He said to them, "Why do you fight for

such an old rusty key? You are not children: you are young men. You

ought to be ashamed of yourselves." The elder of them answered that

the key, if it were knocked against a stone, would open the stone,

however hard it might be. The prince took the key from them, and said,

"Go to a certain place, and face back here. The one to reach here first

shall have the key." The two agreed, and started away. While they were

gone, Alberto kicked the ground, and the boot carried him to another

place. When the young men came back, the prince was no longer there.

This time Prince Alberto found two old men fighting. He asked them the

same question as he had asked the others; and one of them answered,

"If that hat is worn by any one, his body will be invisible; he will

not be seen." The prince secured the hat from these old men by telling

them the same thing he had told the others. While they were running

their race, he put the hat on and kicked the ground.

The boot now brought him before a huge rock which had a small hole in

it. Alberto put the key in the hole, and the rock suddenly opened. When

he entered it, he found a street leading to a palace. He went up to

the palace; and when he entered the door, a beautiful princess met

him. Before Alberto could say a word, the princess told him to go away;

for she said that a seven-headed monster was living with her. "If

that is the case," said the prince, "show me his sword, and I will

kill him." The princess pointed to the sword, which was hanging on

the wall. The prince went to get it, but it was too heavy for him: he

could not even move it. Then the princess gave him a pail of water to

drink. She said that that was the water the monster always drank before

touching his sword. The prince drank the water, and then sat down on an

iron chair, and the chair broke. The princess now told him that he was

strong. Soon steps were heard on the stairs. Prince Alberto put on his

hat, and stood by the door, sword in hand. When the monster came up,

he thrust one of his heads through a window near the door, and said,

"I smell something human!" The prince cut off that head. "Somebody

must be here!" cried the monster; but the princess answered that there

was no one there with her. The prince then cut off the monster's heads

one after another until only the main one was left. The monster waved

his arms, but he could not grasp anything. At last he entered the

door. The prince cut off his last head, and he fell dead.

Inexpressible was the joy of the princess when she saw the monster

lying dead on the floor. She embraced the prince, and thanked him for

her deliverance. Then she told him how she happened to be there. When

the prince knew that she was one of the daughters of King Luis, he

said to her that she was the very one for whom he was looking. The

princess then told the prince about her two sisters, who were kept

prisoners in the same way. So Prince Alberto left her, saying that

he would go save her two sisters and then return.

He went outside and kicked the ground, and was brought before another

huge rock. He entered it, and another princess met him. After asking

him a few questions, she told him to go away, for the ten-headed

monster who was living with her would soon return. But the prince

said that he did not fear anything, and he told her to give him the

monster's sword. Before he could lift the sword he had to drink two

pails of water, which the princess gave him. Then he sat down on

an iron bed, and the bed broke in two, so he thought he was strong

enough. When the ten-headed monster came home, Alberto killed him

in the same way he had killed the other. The princess rejoiced, and

told the prince that he had saved her life. Then she embraced him and

thanked him. Her joy was increased when Alberto told her that he had

saved her younger sister. She begged him to save her eldest sister,

who was in the next rock. The prince answered that that was what he

had come for. So he left her without further talk, for it was already

the night of the second day.

He then kicked the ground, and found himself in front of another huge

rock, which he opened. Here the third princess greeted him. After

asking him several questions as to how he had come there, she begged

him to go away, for she said that it was time for the twelve-headed

monster to come home. But he did not go away. He asked for the sword

of the monster, but of course he could not move it. So the princess

gave him three pails of water to drink. When the monster came home,

the prince cut his heads off one after another, as he had done to the

other two. The main head was now the only one left. Then the prince

removed his hat, and presented himself before the monster, who thought

that he could easily kill him, now that he could see him. He said,

"Wait, I'll go and get my sword." But he could not find it, for the

prince had already taken it. When he returned, he said to the prince,

"You have my sword." He had scarcely spoken these words when Alberto

cut off his remaining head. When Alberto told the princess that he had

already saved her two sisters, she jumped with joy and embraced him.

Alberto now took the princess in his arms, kicked the ground, and

they were brought to the palace of the second sister. Then the prince

kicked the ground again, and all three were carried to the palace of

the youngest sister. But there was no time for delay, as the third

day was nearly gone. So he quickly brought all three princesses back

to their father's kingdom. When they arrived at the palace, King

Luis was overjoyed to see his daughters again. He told the prince to

decide which one he wanted for a wife. While the three princesses

were talking about their life with the monsters, Alberto managed,

without being noticed, to give his handkerchief to the youngest.

The next day Alberto called at the palace. "Have you decided whom you

are going to take for a wife?" said the king. The prince answered,

"The one who has a handkerchief just like mine shall be my wife." Now,

all three were anxious to have the brave prince for their husband, so

they hastened to their rooms to get their handkerchiefs. The two older

sisters first presented theirs, but neither resembled Alberto's. Then

the youngest showed the one which Alberto had given her the day

before, and so she was married to him. For three days banquets of

thanksgiving were held, and the marriage festivities lasted for two

days. The other two princesses were also married to kings' sons.

Notes.

There is a striking analogy between the opening of our story and that

of a Servian tale (Wuk, No. 5), where a Kaiser has three daughters

whom he rears in close confinement, but whom he permits one day, after

they have become of marriageable age, to dance the kolo. While they

are dancing, a storm blows up, and carries them all away. The rest of

the story is a variant of our No. 18, with which our present story,

too, has some points of contact.

For the magic articles secured by the hero from certain persons

quarrelling over them, and for the "Fee-fi-fo-fum" formula, see notes

to No. 18.

The hero's drinking a pail of magic water, and becoming so strong

that when he sits in an iron chair it breaks down under him, recalls

the similar feat of Strong Hans (Grimm, No. 166).

The three monsters of increasingly greater formidability--Seven-Heads,

Ten-Heads, Twelve-Heads--which are slain by the hero, who uses their

own Weapons on them, recall the underworld monsters killed by the

hero in the "Bear's Son" cycle (cf. our notes to No. 17).

Although the events of our story are located in the Philippines, the

Casiguran mentioned probably being the town in Tayabas on the west

toast of Luzon, the tale as a whole appears to have been imported. The

Sinucuan referred to is probably the famous legendary King of Pampanga,

of whom the Pampangans have a rich oral literature. He is said to

have lived on Mount Arayat. He figures in our No. 79 (b).

TALE 40

JUAN AND MARIA.

Narrated by Anicio Pascual of Arayat, Pampanga, who says, "This story

is often told by Pampangan grandmothers to their grandchildren. I have

heard it many times. Lately it was told to me again by an old woman."

Once there lived in a barrio an old beggar couple. They had a son named

Juan, and a daughter Maria. The proceeds from their begging were hardly

enough to support the family. One day, after the old man had returned

home from town, he ordered his wife to cook the rice that had been

given him. The old woman obeyed him. When he saw that the rice was

not enough for him and his wife and children, he angrily said to her,

"From now on, don't let me see our children in this house. Chase them

as far as you can, and let them find their own food." The old mother

wept when she heard the words of her cruel husband. She did not want

to be separated from her children; but she feared that she would be

whipped if she kept them, so she obeyed the cruel order. At first

the poor children did not want to go away; but, when they saw that

their bad father was going to kick them, they ran off crying.

Soon the children came to a wild forest. "Maria, what will become of

us here?" said Juan. "I am very hungry," said the little girl. "I

don't think that I can get you any food in this wilderness," said

the kind brother, "but let me see!" He then looked around. By good

luck he found a guava-tree with one small fruit on it. He immediately

climbed up for the guava, and gave it to his hungry sister. Then the

two children resumed their journey.

As they were walking along, Maria found a hen's egg on the grass. She

picked it up and carried it along with her in her dirty ragged

skirt. At last they saw a very small hut roofed with dry talahib

(coarse, long grass). An old woman in the hut welcomed them, and asked

them where they were going. After Juan had told her their story, she

invited the tired children to stay in the hut with her. She promised

that she would treat them as her little son and daughter. From that

time on, Juan and Maria lived with the kind old woman. Juan grew to

be a strong fine man, and Maria became a beautiful young woman. Juan

spent almost all his time hunting in the mountains and woods.

One morning he caught a black deer. While he was taking the animal

home, the deer said to him, "Juan, as soon as you reach your home,

kill me, eat my flesh, and put my hide in your trunk. After three days

open your trunk, and you will see something astonishing." When Juan

reached home, he did as the deer had told him to do. On the third

day he found in the trunk golden armor. He was greatly delighted by

the precious gift.

Maria had not been living long with the old woman when she found

that the egg had hatched into a chick, which soon grew into a fine

fighting cock. One morning the cock crowed, "Tok-to-ko-kok! Take me

to the cockpit. I'll surely win!" Maria told the old woman what the

cock had said, and the next Sunday Juan took the fighting cock to the

cockpit. There the rooster was victorious, and won much money for Juan.

One day Juan heard that a tournament would be held in front of the

king's palace. The winner of the contest was to become the husband of

the princess, and would inherit the throne. Juan quickly put on his

golden armor, and hastened to the palace to try his skill. He defeated

all his opponents. The next day his bridal ceremony was celebrated,

and the crown was placed on his head. That very day he ascended the

throne to rule over the kingdom. Although Juan was now king, he was

not proud. He and the queen visited Maria to get her to live in the

palace; but the old woman would not allow her to go with her brother,

as she had no other companion in the hut.

One day a prince was lost in the forest. He happened to come across

the hut in which Maria was living. He fell in love with her, and

wanted to marry her. As the old woman offered no objections to the

proposal of the prince, the following day Maria became a queen, just

as her brother had become king. Although the parents of Juan and Maria

had been very cruel, yet the king and queen did not forget them. The

brother and sister visited their father and mother, whom they found in

the most wretched condition. When the father saw that his children had

become king and queen, he wept greatly for his former cruelty to them.

Notes.

A Tagalog folk-tale printed in the "Journal of American Folk-Lore"

(20 : 306), "Tagalog Babes in the Woods," is related to our story.

"There the twins Juan and Maria are driven to the forest by their cruel

father. After days of wandering, Juan climbs a tree, and sees in the

distance a house. They approach it, and, having asked permission to

enter, are invited in; but there is no one to be seen in this magic

house, although food and drink and clothing are supplied the two

wanderers in abundance." The story is evidently incomplete. It is

based on a metrical romance, "The Life of the Brother and Sister,

Juan and Maria, in the Kingdom of Spain," of which I will give a

brief synopsis, since the chap-book version contains details which

are lacking in the fragment cited above.

This metrical romance is printed in both Tagalog and Pampangan. My

Tagalog copy, which contains 1836 lines, bears the date 1910, but is

clearly a reprint. The Pampangan text is slightly shorter, with 1812

lines. Retana (No. 4164) cites a Pampangan version some time between

the years 1860 and 1898, and a later reprint of 1902 (No. 4349). The

summary that follows is based on the Tagalog.

Juan and Maria.

During the reign of King Charles the Fifth there lived in Spain a

poor couple, Fernando and Juana. They had a son Juan, ten years old,

and a daughter Maria, but eight months in age. Fernando was very cruel

to his wife and children. He was also very selfish. During meal-times

he ate alone, without inviting the rest of his family to eat with him.

One day Fernando said to his wife, "You must send our two children

away. If my command is not executed, your life shall answer for your

disobedience." The broken-hearted mother summoned her children,

and with tears in her eyes told them of the cruel order of their

father. The children had to obey their father, for they feared him,

and so set off for the mountains. For many days they wandered around,

living on wild fruits, and sleeping under trees.

One day Juan was greatly surprised to hear Maria ask for some water

to drink, for she had never spoken before. They were far from any

stream, and Juan did not know what to do to satisfy his sister. At

last he climbed a tree to see whether there was any water near by,

and he saw in a valley not far off a beautiful house surrounded with

flowers. Juan quickly came down the tree, and the two children set

out for the house. When they reached it, they knocked at the door,

but no one answered. After knocking again in vain, the boy decided to

enter. He pushed open the door, and found himself in a golden salon,

luxuriously furnished with gold and silver chairs. On the silver wall

hung an image of the Immaculate Conception. The two children knelt down

in front of the image and prayed. Then they went to the dining-room,

where they found a golden table with exquisite dishes of all kinds.

Several years passed by. Under the care of the Virgin, Maria grew to

be a beautiful young woman. One day, as Maria was praying, the Virgin

spoke to her through the image. She said that the gallant prince of

Borgoña would come to the mountains to hunt deer, and that he would

lose his way in the woods. He would come to their house to ask for

some water, and would fall in love with Maria. Everything turned out

as had been predicted. The gallant prince was so attracted by the

beauty and grace of Maria, that he could not help saying to her,

"I love you." With the consent of her guardian the Virgin, Maria

accepted the Prince of Borgoña, and the day for their wedding was

set. The king, his son, and all the nobility of Borgoña, set out for

the mountains to get Maria, and on their arrival were surprised at

the magnificence of her house. The bishop who was with the company

married the couple, and all the retinue went back to the capital.

When Juan now found himself left all alone in the house, he knelt

before the image and complained to the Virgin of his situation. The

Virgin said to him, "Don't worry! To-morrow mount the horse which

is in the stable, clothe yourself in iron, and go to the kingdom of

Moscobia to help the king drive the Moors away." Juan did so, and

upon his arrival in Moscobia he found thousands of Moors threatening

the king. With his sword he killed half the enemy: the rest were

routed. Because of his great services, the king married his daughter

to Juan, and the new couple were proclaimed king and queen.

Some time afterwards, Juan wrote to his sister, suggesting that they

visit their parents. The two couples, accompanied by many of the

nobles of their kingdoms, set out for Spain. Their cruel father was

astounded to see his children raised to such a lofty position, and

he begged their pardon for his former harsh treatment of them. They

forgave him, and then returned to their respective kingdoms, where

they lived peacefully for many years.

The connection between our folk-tale and the romance is not very

clear. In both we have the abandoned children, the discovery of the

house in the woods where the children are reared to manhood and

womanhood, and the marriage of Maria with a prince who loses his

way in the forest. In both Juan becomes a king, and in both the two

children seek again their cruel parents and forgive them. On the other

hand, there is much in the folk-tale that is lacking in the romance;

e.g., the incident of the egg that hatches into a fighting cock,

and the incident of the black deer with the miraculous hide. In the

folk-tale Juan becomes king because of his skill in a tournament;

in the romance, because, with the help of the Virgin, he defeats a

large Moorish army. In the one, the shelter in the woods is but a

thatch-roofed hut inhabited by a kindly old woman; in the other,

it is a magnificent house occupied by no one except the image of

the Virgin. The correspondences as well as the differences between

the two versions, neither of which appears to be new, suggest that

the source of the folk-tale and the romance is one and the same,

but that the folk-tale went its own way, the way of the people, and

thus acquired its more native appearance. That the common source was

some European story, can hardly be doubted, I think.

The opening of our story is not unlike that of the German "Hänsel

und Gretel" (Grimm, No. 15). Bolte and Polívka (1 : 123) note that

various different Märchen have this beginning "of children whom their

father, either because of bitter necessity or because he is forced

by their step-mother, takes to the woods and there abandons." One of

the most widespread cycles in which it occurs is "Hop o' my Thumb,"

a version of which is told among the Tagalogs. I will give this

Tagalog version here in the notes, by way of compromise, as it were:

for while the story is a bona fide Tagalog tale, in that it is told

in the dialect, it must have been received directly from Europe; and

it appears to have retained the form in which it was received, with

but few modifications. No other Oriental form whatsoever of this story

has been recorded (see Bolte-Polívka, 1 : 124-126). The Tagalog story

was narrated by Pacita Cordero of Pagsanjan, Laguna, and runs thus:--

Pitong.

Melanio and Petrona had seven sons. The father was a woodman. They

were so poor, that sometimes the whole family went without dinner. One

day Melanio said to his wife, "Petrona, our children are growing,

and I don't see how we shall be able to support them all. At present

they cannot help us earn a living, because they are too small. Don't

you think we should get along better without them?"--"Yes," answered

Petrona, "if we could only get rid of them some way!"--"Well,

to-morrow I will take them to the forest to gather fuel," said the

husband. "While they are busy, I will leave them on the pretext of

looking for better kinds of wood, and will hurry home. They will not

be able to get home, for they won't know the way."

The wife agreed to this cruel plan. But the youngest son overheard

the conversation, and told his brothers about it. At last Pitong

(seventh), for that was the name of the youngest, and he was the

wisest of all, made this suggestion: "Before we go to the forest

to-morrow, I will pick up white stones. I will carry them with me,

and as we go along I will drop them one by one. I'll walk behind, so

that father will not notice what I am doing. Then, if he leaves us,

we can easily follow the track of stones back home." While the six

brothers consented to the plan, their minds were troubled, for they

doubted the ability of so small a boy to save them.

The next day the children marched straight into the forest with their

father as if they were going on a picnic. Pitong dropped his stones

one by one. When they reached the woods, their father commanded them to

get together what sticks they could find. He left them there, promising

that he would meet them in a certain place; but really he hurried home

and told his wife. "We are now rid of a heavy burden," he said, and the

two were very happy. When the poor boys had finished their work, they

looked in vain for their father. Of course they could not find him;

but Pitong led the company, and they followed the track of stones. The

boys reached home safely, and the parents were route with astonishment.

The next morning Melanio took his sons out with him again. This

time all the boys took white stones with them, besides bread, which

they intended to eat if they should get hungry; but the part of the

forest to which they went was so far, that all the stones were used

up before they got there. Pitong did not eat his bread; he broke it

into pieces, and dropped them on the ground as they went along. They

now reached the nook where their father proposed to leave them. This

place was grown up with wild shrubs, so that there were plenty of

twigs to keep the boys busy. Melanio slipped away from them without

their noticing it. After the seven brothers had worked a long time,

they thought of returning home. But they could not find the track:

the pieces of bread had been eaten by the ants. They cried out,

"Father, father! where are you?" When they were so hungry and tired

that they could not shout any more, they sat down on the ground and

began to weep.

It began to grow dark. Pitong advised his brothers to pluck up courage,

and said to them, "Follow me." So they went on without taking any

particular course, and in about a half-hour they came to a tall

tree. Pitong climbed it to see if there was a road near by. When

he reached the top, he said, "Brothers, I see a lighted house from

here. Let us go look for the house! Maybe we can get something to

eat there."

When they came near the house, they saw that it was well lighted and

richly adorned, as if there were a banquet going on; only it was very

quiet. Pitong, followed by his brothers, knocked at the door. A woman

kindly admitted them, and the boys begged for some food. They told

her how they had been deserted by their selfish father. The woman

said to them, "I have a giant husband who is a great eater of human

beings. If he finds you here, you will surely be devoured; but I can

give you something to eat. I will hide you before he comes, and you

must remain perfectly still." The boys had hardly finished dinner

when a loud sound was heard from without. The woman said to them,

"Here comes my husband! Boys, follow me into that room! You all get

into this big trunk and stay here."

The door was suddenly flung open. As soon as the giant entered,

he said in a fierce voice, "I smell something human: somebody

must be here." He said this many times; and although the wife did

not want to show him the boys, she finally did so, for she feared

that she would be punished. She beckoned to them to come out of the

trunk. "Welcome, my young friends!" said the giant. "I am very glad

to have you here." Pitong gazed fearlessly at him, but the others

trembled with fright. "Give these boys some food, and prepare them

a comfortable bed," said the giant to his wife. "To-morrow early in

the morning they will all be killed."

These words increased the terror of the six older brothers. They could

not swallow a morsel more of food when the old woman set it before

them. Pitong, however, kept trying to think of a plan by which he could

save them all. Now, the room in which they were to sleep was also the

room of the giant's seven sons, who were about the same height as the

woodman's sons. But the giant's sons had on rich garments. At midnight

Pitong awoke his brothers. They quietly and carefully exchanged clothes

with the giant's sons, and then pretended to sleep. At four o'clock

in the morning the giant came in. He paused before the two beds,

but at last turned to the one his sons were in. When he felt their

rough clothes, he thought them the strangers, and with his axe he

cut off the heads of all seven. Then he went away and slept again.

Now Pitong and his six brothers stealthily hurried away into the

forest. When morning came, and the giant found that he had killed his

own children, he was enraged. He at once took his magic cane, and put

on his magic boots and cap. When the boys heard the giant coming after

them, they went down into a big hole they had dug. There they hid. But

the giant had a keen sense of smell, and he walked around and around,

looking for them. At last he became tired; he leaned against a tree

and fell asleep. Pitong peeped through a small opening from under

the ground. When he saw that the giant was asleep, he called out to

his brothers. They quickly stole the magic boot, cap, and cane of

the giant, and were soon carried home. Their parents were very much

surprised to see them back; but they welcomed their children when they

knew of the magic objects. By means of these the family became rich.

As for the giant, when he awoke, he was deprived of all his power. He

was so weak that he could not even get up from the ground, so he died

there in the woods.

TALE 41

THE ENCHANTED PRINCE.

Narrated by Pedro D. L. Sorreta, a Bicol from Virac, Albay, who heard

the story from his grandfather.

Many years ago there lived a very rich king in a beautiful city near a

wild forest, the home of many wicked witches. The king had a gallant

son named Ucay, who fell in love with a beautiful young witch, the

daughter of the most bitter enemy of his father. When Ucay became old

enough to marry, his father requested him to select the most beautiful

lady in the city for his wife; but the prince would neither select one,

nor would he tell his father about his love for the witch. So the rich

king ordered his soldiers to bring to the palace all the beautiful

women that could be found in the kingdom. His order was soon obeyed,

but none of the girls suited the prince. So the king took the matter

of selection into his own hands; and, after choosing a very handsome

girl, he forced his son to marry her. Out of fear, Ucay consented to

do as his father bade him. But the beautiful young witch to whom he

had already pledged his love became angry with him for his timidity,

and so she resolved to change the city into a forest of beautiful

trees. Her fickle lover she transformed into a monkey, who should

live in the tallest tree, and who should not be able to recover his

human shape till five centuries had passed, when a charming girl

would live with him and love him more than anything else. Moreover,

she changed the king's subjects into other animals as she pleased. No

sooner had the marriage of the prince been proclaimed, then, than

the desire of the witch was accomplished, to the great surprise of

the neighboring cities.

Four centuries had already passed. The wonderful disappearance of

the city was already forgotten, and people from other places began

to build houses in the enchanted city. The monkey-prince was always

watching for an opportunity to catch a beautiful girl who should

break the spell that kept him in his miserable condition. Soon a

church was built near the foot of the tree in which he lived. He

had already succeeded in capturing two ladies, but they had died

of fear. After incalculable suffering and extraordinary patience,

the time for his recovery came at last.

One Sunday morning before the mass was over, a very beautiful girl, the

daughter of a poor man, came out of the church and sat at the foot of

the tree. She had been disappointed in her love with a rich man's son,

who had forsaken her in order to marry the daughter of a rich man. So

she wished to die. When the monkey-prince saw her sitting there alone,

he noiselessly went down, carefully took her by the right hand, and

carried her to the top of the tree. She would have died of fright, as

was the fate of the two former women, had she not seen in the monkey's

eyes a noble look that filled her with wonder and sympathy. As days

went by, she lived on delicious fruits which were entirely strange

to her; and her love for the poor creature grew greater and greater,

until at last she loved him more than anything else.

On the evening of the tenth day she was surprised to find herself

beside a gallant prince in a richly-decorated room. At first she

thought that she was dreaming; but when the prince woke up, kissed

her, and then told her the history of his life, she knew that it

was real. She was so astonished, that she exclaimed, "Ah, me! God

is wise!" The next morning she was crowned queen of her husband's

happy subjects, whom she had restored from the enchantment of the

wicked witch. Every one in the kingdom loved his new queen as long

as he lived.

Notes.

I know of no parallels to this interesting story, which appears to

be old native tradition. The hero transformed by enchantment into

a beast, and saved by the devotion of the human lover, suggests the

"Beauty and Beast" cycle (Macculloch, ch. IX; Crane, 7, 324 [notes 5

and 6]; Ralston, Tibetan Tales, p. XXXVII f.); only it is to be noted

that those stories are, after all, heroine tales, not hero tales, for

the interest in them is centred on the disenchantment brought about

by the maiden who comes to love the prince in his beast form. The

curse by a disappointed witch, and the prophecy that only after

five hundred years will the curse be removed, suggest in a way the

"Sleeping Beauty" cycle (Grimm, No. 50; and Bolte-Polívka's exhaustive

notes); only here, too, the resemblance is but vague. There is no magic

sleep in our story, but a Circe-like transformation of the prince and

all his subjects into animals, the city itself being changed into a

forest of trees. We have already met with stories in the Philippines

based on the idea of animal-marriages (e.g., Nos. 18, 19, 29);

but, even were it demonstrable that all those tales were imported,

it would not necessarily follow that the savage idea behind them,

too, was imported. Their adoption by the natives might indicate,

on the contrary, that the basic idea was already well known.

I might call attention to the fact that the number 500 and the

monkey-prince suggest vaguely Buddhistic lore.

TALE 42

THE PRINCE'S DREAM.

Narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, a Bicol of Tigaon, Camarines. The

narrator says, "This story was told to me by my guardian while I was

in Nueva Caceres. He told it to me in the Bicol dialect, and said

that this must be a Bicol story."

Once there lived a young prince who, after his father's death,

succeeded to the throne as the sole heir of a vast, rich kingdom. He

indulged himself in all worldly pleasures. He gave dances, and

all sorts of merry-making surrounded his court to attract the most

beautiful ladies of the kingdom. Meanwhile the royal treasury was

being drained, and his subjects were becoming disloyal to him; for,

his time being chiefly absorbed in personal cares, he often neglected

his duties as king. Disappointed by his conduct, his counsellors

plotted against him: they resolved to dismiss him from the realm. The

prince's mother, the widowed queen, learned of their plot. So, when

he returned to the palace from his evening walk one day, she said

to him, "My son, I wish you would turn from your foolish trifling,

and govern your people as you ought to do; for your advisers are

planning to dethrone you." The prince, who was not bad at heart,

followed his mother's sensible advice: he now began to devote himself

to the welfare of his subjects. His ministers, too, gave up their plan,

and aided the young king in his royal tasks.

One noon, when the prince was taking his siesta, he had a dream. A

ghost appeared to him, and spoke in this manner: "Your father left

a hidden treasure of gold and diamonds, which he forgot to mention

in his will. Should you care to have that treasure, go to the city

of Black. There you will find a Negro, the richest in that city,

who will tell you all about the treasure." On hearing these words,

the prince woke up, and hurriedly acquainted his mother with his

dream. "Undeceive yourself," she said. "Never believe in dreams. I

don't believe in them myself." In spite of his mother's words, he

decided to look for the Negro.

The next day, disguising himself as a poor traveller, the prince set

out for the city of Black. He arrived there at ten o'clock at night,

and the gate of the city was closed; for there was a law there, that,

after the bell had rung ten, no person could enter the city. So he had

to sleep outside the walls. Then the very same ghost that had spoken

to him in his palace appeared to him, and said, "Go back to your

palace, prince, and there in the cellar you will find the treasure

I spoke of." The moment he heard the voice, the prince got up and

returned to his own city. When his mother saw him, she said to him,

"Did you find what you were looking for?"--"Mother, the very same

ghost told me that the treasure is buried in the cellar of the palace."

"I have told you that dreams are never true," she said. "The ghost must

be joking you. You see, you have gone to a faraway land in vain. Banish

all thoughts of that treasure, and continue ruling your kingdom well,

and you will be very much better off."

At first the prince followed his mother's counsel, and tried to rid his

mind of the thought of the treasure; but the ghost haunted him in his

sleep, day and night, reminding him of the gold and diamonds. Early one

morning, without the knowledge of his mother, he took a pointed iron

bar and went down into the cellar of the palace. There he dug where

the treasure was supposed to be. He dug and dug to find the coveted

gold and diamonds. He remained there several hours, and had excavated

a hole some three metres deep, but had found no sign of the hidden

wealth. Just as he was about to give up, his bar struck something hard

which produced a metallic sound. He went on digging until finally he

uncovered an iron platform in the form of a square. It was locked with

a padlock, and the key was in the lock. He lifted the platform, and

to his great surprise and wonder found a low ladder made of diamond

bars, leading down into a small apartment all shining bright as if

it were day. Here he found two columns of diamond bars, each a foot

in thickness and a metre in height, whose brightness shot through all

the corners like sunbeams. This subterranean chamber immediately led

to another in which there was a big safe about five feet in height

and three feet wide. He opened the safe, and from out of it flowed

gold coins like water in torrents from a cliff. His eyes were dazzled

by their brightness; and he was so startled at the inexhaustible flow

of money, that he said to himself, "Are these gold coins and diamonds

real, or am I simply dreaming?" To assure himself, he filled his cap

with the gold coins and went up into the sunlight. He rubbed his eyes

and examined the coins: they were of pure gold. Greatly delighted

by his discovery, he hastened to his mother, and said, "I have found

the treasure, I have found the treasure!" When the queen saw the gold

glittering in her son's hand, she was very glad. Now both mother and

son hurried down to the cellar. There the prince continued his search

for the hidden treasure, while his mother contemplated in awe the

columns of diamonds she saw in those underground apartments. Now the

prince came to a third chamber, in which he found two more columns

of diamonds like those in the first room; and finally he came to a

fourth apartment, in which he saw a wide curtain of silk hanging on

the wall. Back of this wall was another apartment, but it was securely

locked. On the curtain were embroidered the following words in big

golden letters: "Inside this chamber is another column of diamonds

twice as large and twice as high as those in the other two; none can

unlock this apartment but the wealthiest Negro in the city of Black."

Anxious to have this last column of diamonds, the prince determined

to find the Negro. Disguising himself again as a poor traveller,

he set out for the city of Black. There he found the Negro, who

received him very kindly. In the course of their talk the prince

spoke of his dream, and told how he found the gold coins and the

diamond columns, and finally gave the reason for his coming there

as a poor traveller. Furthermore, the prince mentioned his father's

name. On hearing the prince's story, the Negro knelt down before him,

saying, "My prince, I was the most beloved servant of your father. I

acknowledge you as my master, and am disposed and ready to do anything

for your sake. As to the chamber you spoke of, I have not the power

to unlock it. There is but one man who can unlock it, who knows very

well your dead father, and who was his friend. He knows me, too,

very well. This man is the king of the demons. And to him we will go

together; but before we go, we should eat our dinner." Then the Negro

ordered all kinds of delicious dishes, and the two feasted together.

After they had dined, they set out on their journey to the palace

of the king of the demons. Soon they came to a river. There the

Negro instructed the prince not to say anything if he should see

any extraordinary sights, lest some terrible danger befall them. The

Negro waved his hand, and in a moment there came a sphinx paddling

a small banca towards them. They got into it, and the sphinx rowed

back to the other side. Then they walked on till they came to the

palace of the king of the demons, which was protected by two circular

walls. They knocked at the gate of the first. The moment they knocked,

it became dark all around them; lightnings flashed before their eyes,

and it thundered. Then the gate opened. After passing through the

first gate, they came to the second. "They knocked, and the gate flung

open. At once two lions ran out towards them with eyes glowing like

balls of fire, and were ready to spring upon them and devour them;

but on coming nearer the strangers, and recognizing the Negro, these

two kings of beasts wagged their tails as a sign of welcome.

The Negro and the prince were conducted to the king's throne. The

king of the demons asked them what they wanted. The prince spoke:

"King of the demons, I have found in the cellar of my palace a store

of gold coins and several diamond columns, my father's hidden treasure

which he forgot to mention in his will. The last column is locked

up in a separate apartment, and there is none who has the power to

unlock it but yourself."

"Young king," replied the king of the demons, "it is true that I am

the only one who can unlock it. I gave that diamond column to your

father as a gift which he might bequeath to his son; and if you are

his son, you shall have it. But, before giving it to you, I should

like to have you do me a favor in return for that rich gift. If you

will bring me a very beautiful woman to be my companion, one whose

heart is untainted by any worldly passion, I will unlock for you your

wished-for treasure, the diamond room."

At this request the young man stood speechless for some time. At

last, perplexed, he replied, "O king of the demons! it seems to me

impossible to fulfil your wish. I am not a man of superhuman power

to read into a woman's heart."

"Well," returned the king of the demons, taking out of his pocket a

small oval mirror, "if you see a beautiful woman, hold this mirror

before her face. If the surface of the mirror becomes clouded, leave

her; but if the surface of the mirror remains as clear as before,

bring her to me, for she is the one I want for my comfort."

The prince took the mirror, and with his Negro companion left the

palace to look for the desired girl for the king of the demons. They

visited cities and villages. In three days they had searched through

three cities and three villages, but every girl that looked on the

magic mirror clouded its surface. Then, discouraged by their failure,

the travellers decided to go back to the palace of the king of the

demons. On their return they felt very tired, and so stopped in a

small village to rest. There they found a most beautiful girl, the

daughter of a poor farmer. It was the very girl desired by the king of

the demons; for, after she had looked on the magic mirror, its surface

remained as clear as before. Then with joyful hearts the Negro and the

prince set out with the lady for the abode of the king of the demons.

On their way, the prince, fascinated by her beauty, fell in love with

the girl. He did not want to give her up to the king of the demons,

and so proposed to the Negro that they take her to his palace. But the

Negro would not consent, for the king of the demons knew all about

their doings, he said. So the prince gave up his plan on condition

that the girl's face be veiled.

When they arrived at the palace, the king of the demons gladly met

them, and said to the prince, "Now you have fulfilled my wish. You may

go back to your palace, and there you will find the diamond apartment

unlocked for you." The sorrowing prince turned his back and left the

palace with heavy heart; for he no longer thought of the treasure of

gold and diamonds, but had his whole soul centred in that beautiful

maiden that he had given up to the king of the demons. He reached

his own palace sad and dejected. Yet, to divert his mind from the

thought of her, he went to the subterranean apartment; and there he

found the last chamber unlocked.

After some hesitation, he went into the apartment. There he found

two veiled figures,--the one in the form of a king with his sceptre

and crown; the other, a maiden. He unveiled the one with the crown,

and was astounded to find the very same king of the demons. "Prince,

unveil that figure," said the king of the demons to him. The young

king did so, and to his great joy saw the beautiful maiden he had

lost his heart to. At once his sadness disappeared. Then the king

of the demons said to the prince, "Young king, since on your way to

my palace you fell in love with this maiden, I deem it fit that you

should have her for your companion; but do not expect the diamond

column any more." Then the king of the demons disappeared. The prince

at once embraced the maiden, and conducted her up to his palace. That

same day their marriage was celebrated with pomp and luxury.

Note.

Dr. Franz Boas informs me that this story is from the "Arabian Nights,"

"The Tale of Zayn Al-Asnam" (see Burton, Supplemental Nights," iii,

3-38; for Clouston's discussion of variants and analogues, ibid.,

553-563).

TALE 43

THE WICKED WOMAN'S REWARD.

Narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, a Bicol from Camarines. The story was

told by a father to one of his sons.

Once there lived a certain king. He had concubines, five in number. Two

of them he loved more than the others, for they were to bear him

children. He said that the one who should give birth to a male baby

he would marry. Soon one of them bore a child, but it was a girl,

and shortly afterward the other bore a handsome boy. The one which

had given birth to the baby girl was restless: she wished that she

might have the boy. In order to satisfy her wish, she thought of an

ingenious plan whereby she might get possession of the boy.

One midnight, when all were sound asleep, she killed her own baby

and secretly buried it. Then she quietly crept to her rival's bed and

stole her boy, putting in his place a newborn cat. Early in the morning

the king went to the room of his concubine who had borne the boy, and

was surprised to find a cat by her side instead of a human child. He

was so enraged, that he immediately ordered her to be drowned in the

river. His order was at once executed. Then he went into the room of

the wicked woman. The moment he saw the boy baby, he was filled with

great joy, and he smothered the child with kisses. As he had promised,

he married the woman. After the marriage the king sent away all his

other concubines, and he harbored a deep love for his deceitful wife.

Soon afterwards there was a great confusion throughout the

kingdom. Everybody wondered why it was that the river smelled so

fragrant, and the people were very anxious to find out the cause of

the sweet odor. It was not many days before the townspeople along

the river-bank found the corpse of the drowned woman floating in

the water; and this was the source of the sweetness that was causing

their restlessness. It was full of many different kinds of flowers

which had been gathered by the birds. When the people attempted to

remove the corpse from the water, the birds pecked them, and would

not let the body be taken away.

At last the news of the miracle was brought to the ears of the

king. He himself went to the river to see the wonderful corpse. As

soon as he saw the figure of the drowned woman, he was tortured with

remorse. Then, to his great surprise and fear, the corpse suddenly

stood up out of the water, and said to him in sorrowful tones, "O

king! as you see, my body has been floating on the water. The birds

would have buried me, but I wanted you to know that you ordered me to

be killed without any investigation of my fault. Your wife stole my

boy, and, as you saw, she put a cat by my side." The ghost vanished,

and the king saw the body float away again down the river. The king

at once ordered the body of his favorite to be taken out of the water

and brought to the palace; and he himself was driven back to the town,

violent with rage and remorse. There he seized his treacherous wife

and hurled her out of the window of the palace, and he even ordered

her body to be hanged.

Having gotten rid of this evil woman, the king ordered the body of

the innocent woman to be buried among the noble dead. The corpse

was placed in a magnificent tomb, and was borne in a procession with

pompous funeral ceremonies. He himself dressed entirely in black as

a sign of his genuine grief for her; yet, in spite of his sorrow for

his true wife, he took comfort in her son, who grew to be a handsome

boy. As time went on, the prince developed into a brave youth,

who was able to perform the duties of his father the king: so, as

his father became old, no longer able to bear the responsibilities

of regal power, the prince succeeded to the throne, and ruled the

kingdom well. He proved himself to be the son of the good woman by

his wise and just rule over his subjects.

Note.

I know of no other versions of this story. The incident of the animal

substitution for child is a commonplace in folk-tales, though it is

usually ascribed to an envious step-mother rather than an envious

co-wife. For abstracts of Filipino stories containing this incident

see JAFL 29 : 226 et seq., 228, 229; 19 : 265-272.

TALE 44

THE MAGIC RING ("ANG SINGSING NGA TANTANAN").

Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. The

story, she says, is very popular among the Visayans.

In the town of X, not far from the kingdom of Don Fernando, there

lived an old religious woman named Carmen. She had a son named

Carlos. She had been a widow since Carlos was nine months old. She

was poor--poor even to raggedness. One day she said to her son,

"I have named you Carlos because I love you. For me, no name is

prettier than yours. Every letter in it means something." Carlos asked

his mother to tell him the meaning of his name; but she said to him,

"I'll tell it to you later. First go to the king's palace, and there

beg something for us to eat. O my son! if you only knew the miseries I

have had to endure to bring you up, you would not refuse this request

of your poor mother," she said, weeping.

Carlos pitied his mother very much, so he ran towards the king's

palace to beg some food; but when he reached the gate, he hesitated

to enter. He was ashamed to beg, so he went and stood silently under

the orange-tree which was not far from the princess's window. "If

I should obey my mother's request," he said to himself, "what would

the princess say? She would probably say to me, 'You are too young to

beg.' What a disgrace then would it be for me!" As Carlos was looking

at the declining sun with tears in his eyes, the princess raised her

window and unintentionally spit on his head. Carlos's eyes flashed. He

looked at the princess sternly, and said, "If the Goddess of the Sea,

who has a star on her forehead [92] and a moon on her throat, does

not dare to spit on me, how can you--you who are but the shadow of

her power and beauty?"

At these harsh words the princess fainted. When she came to herself,

she cried. Her tears were like drops of dew falling from the leaves

in the morning. Her father entered her room, and found her in her

sorrow. "Why do you weep, Florentina?" asked Don Fernando.

"O Father!" answered Florentina, "my heart is broken. I have been

disgraced."

"Why should you say so?" replied her father. "Who broke your heart,

and who disgraced you?"

"There's a man under the orange-tree," answered the princess, "who

said to me these words"--and she repeated what Carlos had said to her.

The king instantly ordered Carlos to be seized and brought into his

presence. Carlos stood fearless before him, and answered all his

questions. Don Fernando at last said, "If within a week you cannot

show me that what you said to my daughter is true, you'll be hanged

without mercy."

These words frightened Carlos. With tears in his eyes and with his

thoughts devoted to God, who alone could give him consolation, he

walked down the shore of the Golden River. He sat down to rest under

a pagatpat-tree [93]. An eagle which had a nest at the very top of

the tree saw him crying, and said to him, "Why do you weep, Carlos?"

"O Eagle, queen of the birds! I'd be very thankful to you if you'd

only tell me where the home of the Goddess of the Sea is," said Carlos.

"Why do you want her house?" asked the eagle. "Don't you know that

no human being is able to see her?"

"I didn't know that; but if I cannot see her, my life is lost,"

said Carlos sadly.

The eagle pitied Carlos very much: so she said, "Come, Carlos,

come! and I'll lead you to the right path." Carlos followed her

until they came to the mouth of the river. There they stopped. The

eagle shouted, "O king of the fishes! come and help me, for I am

in great need of assistance." The king of the fishes appeared, and

asked what the eagle needed. The eagle told him the story of Carlos,

and asked him if he could take Carlos to the home of the Goddess of

the Sea. As the fish could not refuse the request of the queen of the

birds, he said to Carlos, "Carlos, lie on my back and close your eyes:

within five minutes you'll be in the home of the goddess."

Carlos obeyed the fish. When he opened his eyes, he found that he was

in a very beautiful house. He was lying on a golden bed, and beside

him was standing a beautiful woman with a star on her forehead and

a moon on her throat. Carlos could not believe that the vision was

true. By and by he heard a sweet voice saying, "What has brought you

to this place?"

Carlos trembled, and answered, "I have come here to ask for your help."

"What help do you desire?" asked the goddess. Carlos related his

story. The goddess could not refuse help to one who had spoken so

well of her beauty, so she took her diamond ring off her finger

and gave it to Carlos, saying, "Take this ring with you. Whenever

you want or need my help, touch the ring thrice, and say, 'O God,

help me!' If the king wants my presence, touch the ring six times,

and I'll appear before you."

Carlos received the ring, and, humbly kneeling before the goddess,

said, "I can find no words in which to express to you my gratitude. I

thank you with all my heart."

The goddess then called to the king of the fishes, and ordered him

to take Carlos back to land. When Carlos arrived at the shore of the

river, he met the eagle, who showed him the way to the king's palace.

The king Don Fernando, on seeing Carlos once more before him, said,

"You wretch! one day more is all you have to live."

"To-morrow," replied Carlos, "I'll come before your Highness, and I'll

show to you that what I said to the princess is true." When morning

came the next day, Carlos was ordered into the king's presence. All

the lords and nobles of the kingdom were in the palace, anxious to

see the Goddess of the Sea. It was already eight o'clock, and the

goddess had not yet appeared. The king asked, "Where is she, Carlos?"

"She cannot come," replied Carlos; "but, if your Highness wants me to,

I'll give you a trunk filled with gold in exchange for my life."

"No," said the king angrily: "what we want is the Goddess of the

Sea. If you cannot show her to us, prepare to be hanged."

Carlos touched the ring six times, and the beautiful Goddess of the

Sea appeared. All were amazed to see a woman with curly hair, a star

on her forehead, a moon on her throat, and wearing a white dress

glistening with diamonds. "Carlos is an enchanter!" cried the king,

and he ran to embrace the goddess. In five minutes she disappeared,

and Carlos's life was saved.

Don Fernando now proposed to marry his daughter Florentina to

Carlos. At first the princess hesitated to say yes, but at last she

consented. Carlos was glad to marry the beautiful princess; but,

before the marriage took place, he went to get his poor mother,

who was anxiously awaiting his return home.

Carlos with his diamond ring could now have everything he needed. In

fact, he made the chapel in which he was married all of gold. The

wedding-dress of the princess was adorned with diamonds. Immediately

after the wedding, poor Carmen died of happiness. Carlos continued

to live in the palace with his wife Florentina, but he never came to

know the meaning of his name.

Note.

I know of no variants of this story. The detail of the helpful animals

is common in Filipino Märchen; here, however, the kindness of the

eagle and the fish lack the usual motivation.

TALE 45

MARIA AND THE GOLDEN SLIPPER.

Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She

says that this is a Tagalog story, and was told to her when she was

a little girl.

Once there lived a couple who had an only daughter, Maria. When Maria

was a little girl, her mother died. A few years later Maria's father

fell in love with a widow named Juana, who had two daughters. The

elder of these daughters was Rosa, and the younger was Damiana. When

Maria was grown to be a young woman, her father married the woman

Juana. Maria continued to live with her father and step-mother. But

Juana and her two daughters treated Maria as a servant. She had to do

all the work in the house,--cook the food, wash the clothes, clean the

floors. The only clothes she herself had to wear were ragged and dirty.

One day Prince Malecadel wanted to get married: so he gave a ball, to

which he invited all the ladies in his kingdom. He said that the most

beautiful of all was to be his wife. When Damiana and Rosa knew that

all the ladies were invited, they began to discuss what clothes they

would wear to the ball; but poor Maria was in the river, washing the

clothes. Maria was very sad and was weeping, for she had no clothes

at all in which she could appear at the prince's fête. While she

was washing, a crab approached her, and said, "Why are you crying,

Maria? Tell me the reason, for I am your mother."

Then Maria said to the crab, "I am treated by my aunt (sic!) and

sisters as a servant; and there will be a ball to-night, but I have

no clothes to wear." While she was talking to the crab, Juana came

up. The step-mother was very angry with Maria, and ordered her to

catch the crab and cook it for their dinner. Maria seized the crab

and carried it to the house. At first she did not want to cook it,

for she knew that it was her mother; but Juana whipped her so hard,

that at last she was forced to obey. Before it was put in the earthen

pot to be cooked, the crab said to Maria, "Maria, don't eat my flesh,

but collect all my shell after I am eaten, and bury the pieces in

the garden near the house. They will grow into a tree, and you can

have what you want if you will only ask the tree for it." After her

parents had eaten the flesh of the crab, Maria collected all its shell

and buried it in the garden. At twilight she saw a tree standing on

the very spot where she had buried the shell.

When night came, Rosa and Damiana went to the ball, and Juana retired

for the night as soon as her daughters were gone. When Maria saw that

her aunt was sleeping, she went into the garden and asked the tree

for what she wanted. The tree changed her clothes into very beautiful

ones, and furnished her with a fine coach drawn by four fine horses,

and a pair of golden slippers. Before she left, the tree said to her,

"You must be in your house before twelve o'clock. If you are not,

your clothes will be changed into ragged, dirty ones again, and your

coach will disappear."

After promising to remember the warning of the tree, Maria went to the

ball, where she was received by the prince very graciously. All the

ladies were astonished when they saw her: she was the most beautiful

of all. Then she sat between her two sisters, but neither Rosa nor

Damiana recognized her. The prince danced with her all the time. When

Maria saw that it was half-past eleven, she bade farewell to the prince

and all the ladies present, and went home. When she reached the garden,

the tree changed her beautiful clothes back into her old ones, and the

coach disappeared. Then she went to bed and to sleep. When her sisters

came home, they told her of everything that had happened at the ball.

The next night the prince gave another ball. After Rosa and Damiana

had dressed themselves in their best clothes and gone, Maria again

went to the garden to ask for beautiful clothes. This time she was

given a coach drawn by five (?) horses, and again the tree warned

her to return before twelve. The prince was delighted to see her,

and danced with her the whole evening. Maria was so enchanted that

she forgot to notice the time. While she was dancing, she heard the

clock striking twelve. She ran as fast as she could down stairs and

out the palace-door, but in her haste she dropped one of her golden

slippers. This night she had to walk home, and in her old ragged

clothes, too. One of her golden slippers she had with her; but the

other, which she had dropped at the door, was found by one of the

guards, who gave it to the prince. The guard said that the slipper

had been lost by the beautiful lady who ran out of the palace when

the clock was striking twelve. Then the prince said to all the people

present, "The lady whom this slipper fits is to be my wife."

The next morning the prince ordered one of his guards to carry

the slipper to every house in the city to see if its owner could

be found. The first house visited was the one in which Maria

lived. Rosa tried to put the slipper on her foot, but her foot was

much too big. Then Damiana put it on her foot, but her foot was too

small. The two sisters tried and tried again to make the slipper fit,

but in vain. Then Maria told them that she would try, and see if

the slipper would fit her foot; but her sisters said to her, "Your

feet are very dirty. This golden slipper will not go on your foot,

for your feet are larger than ours." And they laughed at her. But

the guard who had brought the slipper said, "Let her try. It is the

prince's order that all shall try." So he gave it to Maria. Then

Maria put it on, and it fitted her foot exactly. She then drew the

other slipper from underneath her dress, and put it on her other

foot. When the two sisters saw the two slippers on Maria's feet,

they almost fainted with astonishment.

So Maria became the wife of the prince, and from that time on she

was very dear to her sisters and aunt.

Abadeja.

This is a Visayan story from Leyte. Unfortunately I have no record

of the name of the narrator.

Once upon a time there lived in the town of Baybay a man whose name was

Abac. The name of his wife was Abadesa. They had a beautiful daughter

named Abadeja. The mother died when her daughter was about thirteen

years old; and in a year her father married again, a widow who had

three daughters. The second wife envied her step-daughter because

Abadeja was much more beautiful than her own children: consequently

she treated the poor girl very badly, and made her do all the hard

work. When Abadeja could not do the work, her step-mother punished

her severely.

One evening the step-mother said to Abadeja, "Take these two

handkerchiefs to the river and wash them. The white one must be black,

and the black one white, when you bring them back to me. If they are

not, I shall beat you." Abadeja went to the river, where she sat down

on a rock and began to cry. In a little while she heard a noise that

made her look up. There in front of her stood a beautiful woman. The

woman asked Abadeja why she was crying. Abadeja replied, "I am crying

because my step-mother has commanded me to do the impossible. She told

me that I must change this white handkerchief into black, and the black

one into white." The woman took the handkerchiefs, and in an instant

they were transformed. Then she gave them back to Abadeja, and invited

the girl to come see her any time she needed help. After she had spoken

thus, she disappeared. Abadeja went home and gave the handkerchiefs

to her cruel step-mother, who now had no excuse to punish her.

The next morning Abadeja was ordered to put some rice on a mat in the

sun to dry. While she was in the house doing other work, a pig came,

ate up the rice, and tore the mat to pieces. When the step-mother knew

what had happened, she whipped Abadeja severely for having lost the

rice, and told her that she would have to repair the mat so that it

was as good as new. Abadeja took the mat and went across the river,

crying. The beautiful woman met her again, and, taking her by the hand,

led her to her home among the high trees. Then she asked Abadeja what

she wanted. Abadeja told her friend that her step-mother had ordered

her to repair the mat so that it would be as good as new. The woman

took the mat from the girl and waved it in the air. Immediately it

became a whole mat again. Then she gave Abadeja a beautifully-colored

chicken. Abadeja thanked her for her help and her gift, and hurried

home, for she knew that her step-mother would be waiting to scold

her if she were late.

The next day when Abadeja was away from the house, her cruel

step-mother took the chicken, killed it, and cooked it. When the girl

returned, only the feet of her chicken were left. She cried over

her loss, and ran to the river to ask the beautiful woman what she

should do. The beautiful woman, when she heard what had happened,

told the girl to take the chicken's feet and plant them in the

forest. Abadeja went home, took the feet, and carried them with her

to the forest. There she made a little garden, in which she planted

the right foot toward the east, and the left foot toward the west.

A month later she visited her garden in the woods, and was astonished

to see that the feet had grown up into the air, and that they bore

pearls, diamonds, gold dresses, rings, bracelets, shoes, necklaces,

and ear-rings. She was delighted, but she did not tell her step-mother

about her garden.

One day the son of the richest man in Baybay came across this

little garden in the forest. He picked off a ring and put it on his

finger. When he reached home, his finger began to swell. His father

called in all the best physicians, but they could not remove the

ring. Then he called in all the girls of the town, and said that the

one who could take the ring from the finger of his son should be his

son's wife. All the girls of the town tried except Abadeja. She did

not try, because her mother would not allow her to go. At last some

one told the rich man that there was still a girl who had not tried,

and that it was Abadeja: so he sent for her. Now, her step-mother

did not dare refuse to let her go. Abadeja ran to her little garden,

put on one of the gold dresses, and went to the rich man's house. As

soon as she touched the ring, it slid off.

The next day Abadeja was married to the son of the rich man. The

beautiful woman attended the wedding unseen by every one except

Abadeja. The young couple lived happily for many years.

Notes.

In another variant (c), "The Wonderful Tree," which was collected by

Mr. Rusk, and of which I have only an abstract,--