The Violet Fairy Book [Edited by Andrew Lang]
by Andrew Lang
Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries
from the Encyclopedia of the Self
by Mark Zimmerman

TO VIOLET MYERS
IS DEDICATED
THE VIOLET FAIRY BOOK

PREFACE

The Editor takes this opportunity to repeat what he has often
said before, that he is not the author of the stories in the
Fairy Books; that he did not invent them 'out of his own head.'
He is accustomed to being asked, by ladies, 'Have you written
anything else except the Fairy Books?'  He is then obliged to
explain that he has NOT written the Fairy Books, but, save these,
has written almost everything else, except hymns, sermons, and
dramatic works.

The stories in this Violet Fairy Book, as in all the others of
the series, have been translated out of the popular traditional
tales in a number of different languages. These stories are as
old as anything that men have invented. They are narrated by
naked savage women to naked savage children. They have been
inherited by our earliest civilised ancestors, who really
believed that beasts and trees and stones can talk if they
choose, and behave kindly or unkindly. The stories are full of
the oldest ideas of ages when science did not exist, and magic
took the place of science. Anybody who has the curiosity to read
the 'Legendary Australian Tales,' which Mrs. Langloh Parker has
collected from the lips of the Australian savages, will find that
these tales are closely akin to our own. Who were the first
authors of them nobody knows--probably the first men and women.
Eve may have told these tales to amuse Cain and Abel. As people
grew more civilised and had kings and queens, princes and
princesses, these exalted persons generally were chosen as heroes
and heroines. But originally the characters were just 'a man,'
and 'a woman,' and 'a boy,' and 'a girl,' with crowds of beasts,
birds, and fishes, all behaving like human beings. When the
nobles and other people became rich and educated, they forgot the
old stories, but the country people did not, and handed them
down, with changes at pleasure, from generation to generation.
Then learned men collected and printed the country people's
stories, and these we have translated, to amuse children. Their
tastes remain like the tastes of their naked ancestors, thousands
of years ago, and they seem to like fairy tales better than
history, poetry, geography, or arithmetic, just as grown-up
people like novels better than anything else.

This is the whole truth of the matter. I have said so before,
and I say so again. But nothing will prevent children from
thinking that I invented the stories, or some ladies from being
of the same opinion. But who really invented the stories nobody
knows; it is all so long ago, long before reading and writing
were invented. The first of the stories actually written down,
were written in Egyptian hieroglyphs, or on Babylonian cakes of
clay, three or four thousand years before our time.

Of the stories in this book, Miss Blackley translated 'Dwarf Long
Nose,' 'The Wonderful Beggars,' 'The Lute Player,' 'Two in a
Sack,' and 'The Fish that swam in the Air.'  Mr. W. A. Craigie
translated from the Scandinavian, 'Jasper who herded the Hares.'
Mrs. Lang did the rest.

Some of the most interesting are from the Roumanion, and three
were previously published in the late Dr. Steere's 'Swahili
Tales.'  By the permission of his representatives these three
African stories have here been abridged and simplified for
children.

CONTENTS                                               
A Tale of the Tontlawald
The finest Liar in the World
The Story of three Wonderful Beggars
Schippeitaro
The Three Princes and their Beasts
The Goat's Ears of the Emperor Trojan
The Nine Pea-hens and the Golden Apples
The Lute Player
The Grateful Prince  
The Child who came from an Egg  
Stan Bolovan
The Two Frogs
The Story of a Gazelle
How a Fish swam in the Air and a Hare in the Water
Two in a Sack
The Envious Neighbour
The Fairy of the Dawn
The Enchanted Knife
Jesper who herded the Hares
The Underground Workers
The History of Dwarf Long Nose
The Nunda, Eater of People
The Story of Hassebu
The Maiden with the Wooden Helmet
The Monkey and the Jelly-fish
The Headless Dwarfs
The young Man who would have his Eyes opened
The Boys with the Golden Stars
The Frog
The Princess who was hidden Underground
The Girl who pretended to be a Boy
The Story of Halfman
The Prince who wanted to see the World
Virgililus the Sorcerer
Mogarzea and his Son

A TALE OF THE TONTLAWALD

Long, long ago there stood in the midst of a country covered with
lakes a vast stretch of moorland called the Tontlawald, on which
no man ever dared set foot. From time to time a few bold spirits
had been drawn by curiosity to its borders, and on their return
had reported that they had caught a glimpse of a ruined house in
a grove of thick trees, and round about it were a crowd of beings
resembling men, swarming over the grass like bees. The men were
as dirty and ragged as gipsies, and there were besides a quantity
of old women and half-naked children.

One night a peasant who was returning home from a feast wandered
a little farther into the Tontlawald, and came back with the same
story. A countless number of women and children were gathered
round a huge fire, and some were seated on the ground, while
others danced strange dances on the smooth grass. One old crone
had a broad iron ladle in her hand, with which every now and then
she stirred the fire, but the moment she touched the glowing
ashes the children rushed away, shrieking like night owls, and it
was a long while before they ventured to steal back. And besides
all this there had once or twice been seen a little old man with
a long beard creeping out of the forest, carrying a sack bigger
than himself. The women and children ran by his side, weeping
and trying to drag the sack from off his back, but he shook them
off, and went on his way. There was also a tale of a magnificent
black cat as large as a foal, but men could not believe all the
wonders told by the peasant, and it was difficult to make out
what was true and what was false in his story. However, the fact
remained that strange things did happen there, and the King of
Sweden, to whom this part of the country belonged, more than once
gave orders to cut down the haunted wood, but there was no one
with courage enough to obey his commands. At length one man,
bolder than the rest, struck his axe into a tree, but his blow
was followed by a stream of blood and shrieks as of a human
creature in pain. The terrified woodcutter fled as fast as his
legs would carry him, and after that neither orders nor threats
would drive anybody to the enchanted moor.

A few miles from the Tontlawald was a large village, where dwelt
a peasant who had recently married a young wife. As not
uncommonly happens in such cases, she turned the whole house
upside down, and the two quarrelled and fought all day long.

By his first wife the peasant had a daughter called Elsa, a good
quiet girl, who only wanted to live in peace, but this her
stepmother would not allow. She beat and cuffed the poor child
from morning till night, but as the stepmother had the whip-hand
of her husband there was no remedy.

For two years Elsa suffered all this ill-treatment, when one day
she went out with the other village children to pluck
strawberries. Carelessly they wandered on, till at last they
reached the edge of the Tontlawald, where the finest strawberries
grew, making the grass red with their colour. The children flung
themselves down on the ground, and, after eating as many as they
wanted, began to pile up their baskets, when suddenly a cry arose
from one of the older boys:

'Run, run as fast as you can! We are in the Tontlawald!'

Quicker than lightning they sprang to their feet, and rushed
madly away, all except Elsa, who had strayed farther than the
rest, and had found a bed of the finest strawberries right under
the trees. Like the others, she heard the boy's cry, but could
not make up her mind to leave the strawberries.

'After all, what does it matter?' thought she. 'The dwellers in
the Tontlawald cannot be worse than my stepmother'; and looking
up she saw a little black dog with a silver bell on its neck come
barking towards her, followed by a maiden clad all in silk.

'Be quiet,' said she; then turning to Elsa she added: 'I am so
glad you did not run away with the other children. Stay here
with me and be my friend, and we will play delightful games
together, and every day we will go and gather strawberries.
Nobody will dare to beat you if I tell them not. Come, let us go
to my mother'; and taking Elsa's hand she led her deeper into the
wood, the little black dog jumping up beside them and barking
with pleasure.

Oh! what wonders and splendours unfolded themselves before
Elsa's astonished eyes! She thought she really must be in
Heaven. Fruit trees and bushes loaded with fruit stood before
them, while birds gayer than the brightest butterfly sat in their
branches and filled the air with their song. And the birds were
not shy, but let the girls take them in their hands, and stroke
their gold and silver feathers. In the centre of the garden was
the dwelling-house, shining with glass and precious stones, and
in the doorway sat a woman in rich garments, who turned to Elsa's
companion and asked:

'What sort of a guest are you bringing to me?'

'I found her alone in the wood,' replied her daughter, 'and
brought her back with me for a companion. You will let her
stay?'

The mother laughed, but said nothing, only she looked Elsa up and
down sharply. Then she told the girl to come near, and stroked
her cheeks and spoke kindly to her, asking if her parents were
alive, and if she really would like to stay with them. Elsa
stooped and kissed her hand, then, kneeling down, buried her face
in the woman's lap, and sobbed out:

'My mother has lain for many years under the ground. My father
is still alive, but I am nothing to him, and my stepmother beats
me all the day long. I can do nothing right, so let me, I pray
you, stay with you. I will look after the flocks or do any work
you tell me; I will obey your lightest word; only do not, I
entreat you, send me back to her. She will half kill me for not
having come back with the other children.'

And the woman smiled and answered, 'Well, we will see what we can
do with you,' and, rising, went into the house.

Then the daughter said to Elsa, 'Fear nothing, my mother will be
your friend. I saw by the way she looked that she would grant
your request when she had thought over it,' and, telling Elsa to
wait, she entered the house to seek her mother. Elsa meanwhile
was tossed about between hope and fear, and felt as if the girl
would never come.

At last Elsa saw her crossing the grass with a box in her hand.

'My mother says we may play together to-day, as she wants to make
up her mind what to do about you. But I hope you will stay here
always, as I can't bear you to go away. Have you ever been on
the sea?'

'The sea?' asked Elsa, staring; 'what is that? I've never heard
of such a thing!'

'Oh, I'll soon show you,' answered the girl, taking the lid from
the box, and at the very bottom lay a scrap of a cloak, a mussel
shell, and two fish scales. Two drops of water were glistening
on the cloak, and these the girl shook on the ground. In an
instant the garden and lawn and everything else had vanished
utterly, as if the earth had opened and swallowed them up, and as
far as the eye could reach you could see nothing but water, which
seemed at last to touch heaven itself. Only under their feet was
a tiny dry spot. Then the girl placed the mussel shell on the
water and took the fish scales in her hand. The mussel shell
grew bigger and bigger, and turned into a pretty little boat,
which would have held a dozen children. The girls stepped in,
Elsa very cautiously, for which she was much laughed at by her
friend, who used the fish scales for a rudder. The waves rocked
the girls softly, as if they were lying in a cradle, and they
floated on till they met other boats filled with men, singing and
making merry.

'We must sing you a song in return,' said the girl, but as Elsa
did not know any songs, she had to sing by herself. Elsa could
not understand any of the men's songs, but one word, she noticed,
came over and over again, and that was 'Kisika.'  Elsa asked what
it meant, and the girl replied that it was her name.

It was all so pleasant that they might have stayed there for ever
had not a voice cried out to them, 'Children, it is time for you
to come home!'

So Kisika took the little box out of her pocket, with the piece
of cloth lying in it, and dipped the cloth in the water, and lo!
they were standing close to a splendid house in the middle of the
garden. Everything round them was dry and firm, and there was no
water anywhere. The mussel shell and the fish scales were put
back in the box, and the girls went in.

They entered a large hall, where four and twenty richly dressed
women were sitting round a table, looking as if they were about
to attend a wedding. At the head of the table sat the lady of
the house in a golden chair.

Elsa did not know which way to look, for everything that met her
eyes was more beautiful than she could have dreamed possible.
But she sat down with the rest, and ate some delicious fruit, and
thought she must be in heaven. The guests talked softly, but
their speech was strange to Elsa, and she understood nothing of
what was said. Then the hostess turned round and whispered
something to a maid behind her chair, and the maid left the hall,
and when she came back she brought a little old man with her, who
had a beard longer than himself. He bowed low to the lady and
then stood quietly near the door.

'Do you see this girl?' said the lady of the house, pointing to
Elsa. 'I wish to adopt her for my daughter. Make me a copy of
her, which we can send to her native village instead of herself.'

The old man looked Elsa all up and down, as if he was taking her
measure, bowed again to the lady, and left the hall. After
dinner the lady said kindly to Elsa, 'Kisika has begged me to let
you stay with her, and you have told her you would like to live
here. Is that so?'

At these words Elsa fell on her knees, and kissed the lady's
hands and feet in gratitude for her escape from her cruel
stepmother; but her hostess raised her from the ground and patted
her head, saying, 'All will go well as long as you are a good,
obedient child, and I will take care of you and see that you want
for nothing till you are grown up and can look after yourself.
My waiting-maid, who teaches Kisika all sorts of fine handiwork,
shall teach you too.'

Not long after the old man came back with a mould full of clay on
his shoulders, and a little covered basket in his left hand. He
put down his mould and his basket on the ground, took up a
handful of clay, and made a doll as large as life. When it was
finished he bored a hole in the doll's breast and put a bit of
bread inside; then, drawing a snake out of the basket, forced it
to enter the hollow body.

'Now,' he said to the lady, 'all we want is a drop of the
maiden's blood.'

When she heard this Elsa grew white with horror, for she thought
she was selling her soul to the evil one.

'Do not be afraid!' the lady hastened to say; 'we do not want
your blood for any bad purpose, but rather to give you freedom
and happiness.'

Then she took a tiny golden needle, pricked Elsa in the arm, and
gave the needle to the old man, who stuck it into the heart of
the doll. When this was done he placed the figure in the basket,
promising that the next day they should all see what a beautiful
piece of work he had finished.

When Elsa awoke the next morning in her silken bed, with its soft
white pillows, she saw a beautiful dress lying over the back of a
chair, ready for her to put on. A maid came in to comb out her
long hair, and brought the finest linen for her use; but nothing
gave Elsa so much joy as the little pair of embroidered shoes
that she held in her hand, for the girl had hitherto been forced
to run about barefoot by her cruel stepmother. In her excitement
she never gave a thought to the rough clothes she had worn the
day before, which had disappeared as if by magic during the
night. Who could have taken them? Well, she was to know that
by-and-by. But WE can guess that the doll had been dressed in
them, which was to go back to the village in her stead. By the
time the sun rose the doll had attained her full size, and no one
could have told one girl from the other. Elsa started back when
she met herself as she looked only yesterday.

'You must not be frightened,' said the lady, when she noticed her
terror; 'this clay figure can do you no harm. It is for your
stepmother, that she may beat it instead of you. Let her flog it
as hard as she will, it can never feel any pain. And if the
wicked woman does not come one day to a better mind your double
will be able at last to give her the punishment she deserves.'

From this moment Elsa's life was that of the ordinary happy
child, who has been rocked to sleep in her babyhood in a lovely
golden cradle. She had no cares or troubles of any sort, and
every day her tasks became easier, and the years that had gone
before seemed more and more like a bad dream. But the happier
she grew the deeper was her wonder at everything around her, and
the more firmly she was persuaded that some great unknown power
must be at the bottom of it all.

In the courtyard stood a huge granite block about twenty steps
from the house, and when meal times came round the old man with
the long beard went to the block, drew out a small silver staff,
and struck the stone with it three times, so that the sound could
be heard a long way off. At the third blow, out sprang a large
golden cock, and stood upon the stone. Whenever he crowed and
flapped his wings the rock opened and something came out of it.
First a long table covered with dishes ready laid for the number
of persons who would be seated round it, and this flew into the
house all by itself.

When the cock crowed for the second time, a number of chairs
appeared, and flew after the table; then wine, apples, and other
fruit, all without trouble to anybody. After everybody had had
enough, the old man struck the rock again. the golden cock
crowed afresh, and back went dishes, table, chairs, and plates
into the middle of the block.

When, however, it came to the turn of the thirteenth dish, which
nobody ever wanted to eat, a huge black cat ran up, and stood on
the rock close to the cock, while the dish was on his other side.

There they all remained, till they were joined by the old man.

He picked up the dish in one hand, tucked the cat under his arm,
told the cock to get on his shoulder, and all four vanished into
the rock. And this wonderful stone contained not only food, but
clothes and everything you could possibly want in the house.

At first a language was often spoken at meals which was strange
to Elsa, but by the help of the lady and her daughter she began
slowly to understand it, though it was years before she was able
to speak it herself.

One day she asked Kisika why the thirteenth dish came daily to
the table and was sent daily away untouched, but Kisika knew no
more about it than she did. The girl must, however, have told
her mother what Elsa had said, for a few days later she spoke to
Elsa seriously:

'Do not worry yourself with useless wondering. You wish to know
why we never eat of the thirteenth dish? That, dear child, is
the dish of hidden blessings, and we cannot taste of it without
bringing our happy life here to an end. And the world would be a
great deal better if men, in their greed, did not seek to snatch
every thing for themselves, instead of leaving something as a
thankoffering to the giver of the blessings. Greed is man's
worst fault.'

The years passed like the wind for Elsa, and she grew into a
lovely woman, with a knowledge of many things that she would
never have learned in her native village; but Kisika was still
the same young girl that she had been on the day of her first
meeting with Elsa. Each morning they both worked for an hour at
reading and writing, as they had always done, and Elsa was
anxious to learn all she could, but Kisika much preferred
childish games to anything else. If the humour seized her, she
would fling aside her tasks, take her treasure box, and go off to
play in the sea, where no harm ever came to her.

'What a pity,' she would often say to Elsa, 'that you have grown
so big, you cannot play with me any more.'

Nine years slipped away in this manner, when one day the lady
called Elsa into her room. Elsa was surprised at the summons,
for it was unusual, and her heart sank, for she feared some evil
threatened her. As she crossed the threshold, she saw that the
lady's cheeks were flushed, and her eyes full of tears, which she
dried hastily, as if she would conceal them from the girl.
'Dearest child,' she began, 'the time has come when we must
part.'

'Part?' cried Elsa, burying her head in the lady's lap. 'No,
dear lady, that can never be till death parts us. You once
opened your arms to me; you cannot thrust me away now.'

'Ah, be quiet, child,' replied the lady; 'you do not know what I
would do to make you happy. Now you are a woman, and I have no
right to keep you here. You must return to the world of men,
where joy awaits you.'

'Dear lady,' entreated Elsa again. 'Do not, I beseech you, send
me from you. I want no other happiness but to live and die
beside you. Make me your waiting maid, or set me to any work you
choose, but do not cast me forth into the world. It would have
been better if you had left me with my stepmother, than first to
have brought me to heaven and then send me back to a worse
place.'

'Do not talk like that, dear child,' replied the lady; 'you do
not know all that must be done to secure your happiness, however
much it costs me. But it has to be. You are only a common
mortal, who will have to die one day, and you cannot stay here
any longer. Though we have the bodies of men, we are not men at
all, though it is not easy for you to understand why. Some day
or other you will find a husband who has been made expressly for
you, and will live happily with him till death separates you. It
will be very hard for me to part from you, but it has to be, and
you must make up your mind to it.'  Then she drew her golden comb
gently through Elsa's hair, and bade her go to bed; but little
sleep had the poor girl! Life seemed to stretch before her like
a dark starless night.

Now let us look back a moment, and see what had been going on in
Elsa's native village all these years, and how her double had
fared. It is a well-known fact that a bad woman seldom becomes
better as she grows older, and Elsa's stepmother was no exception
to the rule; but as the figure that had taken the girl's place
could feel no pain, the blows that were showered on her night and
day made no difference. If the father ever tried to come to his
daughter's help, his wife turned upon him, and things were rather
worse than before.

One day the stepmother had given the girl a frightful beating,
and then threatened to kill her outright. Mad with rage, she
seized the figure by the throat with both hands, when out came a
black snake from her mouth and stung the woman's tongue, and she
fell dead without a sound. At night, when the husband came home,
he found his wife lying dead upon the ground, her body all
swollen and disfigured, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. His
screams brought the neighbours from their cottages, but they were
unable to explain how it had all come about. It was true, they
said, that about mid-day they had heard a great noise, but as
that was a matter of daily occurrence they did not think much of
it. The rest of the day all was still, but no one had seen
anything of the daughter. The body of the dead woman was then
prepared for burial, and her tired husband went to bed, rejoicing
in his heart that he had been delivered from the firebrand who
had made his home unpleasant. On the table he saw a slice of
bread lying, and, being hungry, he ate it before going to sleep.

In the morning he too was found dead, and as swollen as his wife,
for the bread had been placed in the body of the figure by the
old man who made it. A few days later he was placed in the grave
beside his wife, but nothing more was ever heard of their
daughter.

All night long after her talk with the lady Elsa had wept and
wailed her hard fate in being cast out from her home which she
loved.

Next morning, when she got up, the lady placed a gold seal ring
on her finger, strung a little golden box on a ribbon, and placed
it round her neck; then she called the old man, and, forcing back
her tears, took leave of Elsa. The girl tried to speak, but
before she could sob out her thanks the old man had touched her
softly on the head three times with his silver staff. In an
instant Elsa knew that she was turning into a bird: wings sprang
from beneath her arms; her feet were the feet of eagles, with
long claws; her nose curved itself into a sharp beak, and
feathers covered her body. Then she soared high in the air, and
floated up towards the clouds, as if she had really been hatched
an eagle.

For several days she flew steadily south, resting from time to
time when her wings grew tired, for hunger she never felt. And
so it happened that one day she was flying over a dense forest,
and below hounds were barking fiercely, because, not having wings
themselves, she was out of their reach. Suddenly a sharp pain
quivered through her body, and she fell to the ground, pierced by
an arrow.

When Elsa recovered her senses, she found herself lying under a
bush in her own proper form. What had befallen her, and how she
got there, lay behind her like a bad dream.

As she was wondering what she should do next the king's son came
riding by, and, seeing Elsa, sprang from his horse, and took her
by the hand, sawing, 'Ah! it was a happy chance that brought me
here this morning. Every night, for half a year, have I dreamed,
dear lady, that I should one day find you in this wood. And
although I have passed through it hundreds of times in vain, I
have never given up hope. To-day I was going in search of a
large eagle that I had shot, and instead of the eagle I have
found--you.'  Then he took Elsa on his horse, and rode with her
to the town, where the old king received her graciously.

A few days later the wedding took place, and as Elsa was
arranging the veil upon her hair fifty carts arrived laden with
beautiful things which the lady of the Tontlawald had sent to
Elsa. And after the king's death Elsa became queen, and when she
was old she told this story. But that was the last that was ever
heard of the Tontlawald.

[From Ehstnische Marchen.]

THE FINEST LIAR IN THE WORLD

At the edge of a wood there lived an old man who had only one
son, and one day he called the boy to him and said he wanted some
corn ground, but the youth must be sure never to enter any mill
where the miller was beardless.

The boy took the corn and set out, and before he had gone very
far he saw a large mill in front of him, with a beardless man
standing in the doorway.

'Good greeting, beardless one!' cried he.

'Good greeting, sonny,' replied the man.

'Could I grind something here?'

'Yes, certainly! I will finish what I am doing and then you can
grind as long as you like.'

But suddenly the boy remembered what his father had told him, and
bade farewell to the man, and went further down the river, till
he came to another mill, not knowing that as soon as his back was
turned the beardless man had picked up a bag of corn and run
hastily to the same mill before him. When the boy reached the
second mill, and saw a second beardless man sitting there, he did
not stop, and walked on till he came to a third mill. But this
time also the beardless man had been too clever for him, and had
arrived first by another road. When it happened a fourth time
the boy grew cross, and said to himself, 'It is no good going on;
there seems to be a beardless man in every mill'; and he took his
sack from his back, and made up his mind to grind his corn where
he was.

The beardless man finished grinding his own corn, and when he had
done he said to the boy, who was beginning to grind his,
'Suppose, sonny, we make a cake of what you have there.'

Now the boy had been rather uneasy when he recollected his
father's words, but he thought to himself, 'What is done cannot
be undone,' and answered, 'Very well, so let it be.'

Then the beardless one got up, threw the flour into the tub, and
made a hole in the middle, telling the boy to fetch some water
from the river in his two hands, to mix the cake. When the cake
was ready for baking they put it on the fire, and covered it with
hot ashes, till it was cooked through. Then they leaned it up
against the wall, for it was too big to go into a cupboard, and
the beardless one said to the boy:

'Look here, sonny: if we share this cake we shall neither of us
have enough. Let us see who can tell the biggest lie, and the
one who lies the best shall have the whole cake.'

The boy, not knowing what else to do, answered, 'All right; you
begin.'

So the beardless one began to lie with all his might, and when he
was tired of inventing new lies the boy said to him, 'My good
fellow, if THAT is all you can do it is not much! Listen to me,
and I will tell you a true story.

'In my youth, when I was an old man, we had a quantity of
beehives. Every morning when I got up I counted them over, and
it was quite easy to number the bees, but I never could reckon
the hives properly. One day, as I was counting the bees, I
discovered that my best bee was missing, and without losing a
moment I saddled a cock and went out to look for him. I traced
him as far as the shore, and knew that he had crossed the sea,
and that I must follow. When I had reached the other side I
found a man had harnessed my bee to a plough, and with his help
was sowing millet seed.

' "That is my bee!" I shouted. "Where did you get him from?" '
"Brother," replied the man, "if he is yours, take him."  And he
not only gave me back my bee, but a sack of millet seed into the
bargain, because he had made use of my bee. Then I put the bag
on my shoulders, took the saddle from the cock, and placed it on
the back of the bee, which I mounted, leading the cock by a
string, so that he should have a rest. As we were flying home
over the sea one of the strings that held the bag of millet broke
in two, and the sack dropped straight into the ocean. It was
quite lost, of course, and there was no use thinking about it,
and by the time we were safe back again night had come. I then
got down from my bee, and let him loose, that he might get his
supper, gave the cock some hay, and went to sleep myself. But
when I awoke with the sun what a scene met my eyes! During the
night wolves had come and had eaten my bee. And honey lay
ankle-deep in the valley and knee-deep on the hills. Then I
began to consider how I could best collect some, to take home
with me.

'Now it happened that I had with me a small hatchet, and this I
took to the wood, hoping to meet some animal which I could kill,
whose skin I might turn into a bag. As I entered the forest I
saw two roe-deer hopping on one foot, so I slew them with a
single blow, and made three bags from their skins, all of which I
filled with honey and placed on the back of the cock. At length
I reached home, where I was told that my father had just been
born, and that I must go at once to fetch some holy water to
sprinkle him with. As I went I turned over in my mind if there
was no way for me to get back my millet seed, which had dropped
into the sea, and when I arrived at the place with the holy water
I saw the seed had fallen on fruitful soil, and was growing
before my eyes. And more than that, it was even cut by an
invisible hand, and made into a cake.

'So I took the cake as well as the holy water, and was flying
back with them over the sea, when there fell a great rain, and
the sea was swollen, and swept away my millet cake. Ah, how
vexed I was at its loss when I was safe on earth again.

'Suddenly I remembered that my hair was very long. If I stood it
touched the ground, although if I was sitting it only reached my
ears. I seized a knife and cut off a large lock, which I plaited
together, and when night came tied it into a knot, and prepared
to use it for a pillow. But what was I to do for a fire? A
tinder box I had, but no wood. Then it occurred to me that I had
stuck a needle in my clothes, so I took the needle and split it
in pieces, and lit it, then laid myself down by the fire and went
to sleep. But ill-luck still pursued me. While I was sleeping a
spark from the fire lighted on the hair, which was burnt up in a
moment. In despair I threw myself on the ground, and instantly
sank in it as far as my waist. I struggled to get out, but only
fell in further; so I ran to the house, seized a spade, dug
myself out, and took home the holy water. On the way I noticed
that the ripe fields were full of reapers, and suddenly the air
became so frightfully hot that the men dropped down in a faint.
Then I called to them, "Why don't you bring out our mare, which
is as tall as two days, and as broad as half a day, and make a
shade for yourselves?" My father heard what I said and jumped
quickly on the mare, and the reapers worked with a will in the
shadow, while I snatched up a wooden pail to bring them some
water to drink. When I got to the well everything was frozen
hard, so in order to draw some water I had to take off my head
and break the ice with it. As I drew near them, carrying the
water, the reapers all cried out, "Why, what has become of your
head?" I put up my hand and discovered that I really had no head,
and that I must have left it in the well. I ran back to look for
it, but found that meanwhile a fox which was passing by had
pulled my head out of the water, and was tearing at my brains. I
stole cautiously up to him, and gave him such a kick that he
uttered a loud scream, and let fall a parchment on which was
written, "The cake is mine, and the beardless one goes
empty-handed." '

With these words the boy rose, took the cake, and went home,
while the beardless one remained behind to swallow his
disappointment.

[Volksmarchen der Serben.]

THE STORY OF THREE WONDERFUL BEGGARS

There once lived a merchant whose name was Mark, and whom people
called 'Mark the Rich.'  He was a very hard-hearted man, for he
could not bear poor people, and if he caught sight of a beggar
anywhere near his house, he would order the servants to drive him
away, or would set the dogs at him.

One day three very poor old men came begging to the door, and
just as he was going to let the fierce dogs loose on them, his
little daughter, Anastasia, crept close up to him and said:

'Dear daddy, let the poor old men sleep here to-night, do--to
please me.'

Her father could not bear to refuse her, and the three beggars
were allowed to sleep in a loft, and at night, when everyone in
the house was fast asleep, little Anastasia got up, climbed up to
the loft, and peeped in.

The three old men stood in the middle of the loft, leaning on
their sticks, with their long grey beards flowing down over their
hands, and were talking together in low voices.

'What news is there?' asked the eldest.

'In the next village the peasant Ivan has just had his seventh
son. What shall we name him, and what fortune shall we give
him?' said the second.

The third whispered, 'Call him Vassili, and give him all the
property of the hard-hearted man in whose loft we stand, and who
wanted to drive us from his door.'

After a little more talk the three made themselves ready and
crept softly away.

Anastasia, who had heard every word, ran straight to her father,
and told him all.

Mark was very much surprised; he thought, and thought, and in the
morning he drove to the next village to try and find out if such
a child really had been born. He went first to the priest, and
asked him about the children in his parish.

'Yesterday,' said the priest, 'a boy was born in the poorest
house in the village. I named the unlucky little thing
"Vassili." He is the seventh son, and the eldest is only seven
years old, and they hardly have a mouthful amongst them all. Who
can be got to stand godfather to such a little beggar boy?'

The merchant's heart beat fast, and his mind was full of bad
thoughts about that poor little baby. He would be godfather
himself, he said, and he ordered a fine christening feast; so the
child was brought and christened, and Mark was very friendly to
its father. After the ceremony was over he took Ivan aside and
said:

'Look here, my friend, you are a poor man. How can you afford to
bring up the boy? Give him to me and I'll make something of him,
and I'll give you a present of a thousand crowns. Is that a
bargain?'

Ivan scratched his head, and thought, and thought, and then he
agreed. Mark counted out the money, wrapped the baby up in a fox
skin, laid it in the sledge beside him, and drove back towards
home. When he had driven some miles he drew up, carried the
child to the edge of a steep precipice and threw it over,
muttering, 'There, now try to take my property!'

Very soon after this some foreign merchants travelled along that
same road on the way to see Mark and to pay the twelve thousand
crowns which they owed him.

As they were passing near the precipice they heard a sound of
crying, and on looking over they saw a little green meadow wedged
in between two great heaps of snow, and on the meadow lay a baby
amongst the flowers.

The merchants picked up the child, wrapped it up carefully, and
drove on. When they saw Mark they told him what a strange thing
they had found. Mark guessed at once that the child must be his
godson, asked to see him, and said:

'That's a nice little fellow; I should like to keep him. If you
will make him over to me, I will let you off your debt.'

The merchants were very pleased to make so good a bargain, left
the child with Mark, and drove off.

At night Mark took the child, put it in a barrel, fastened the
lid tight down, and threw it into the sea. The barrel floated
away to a great distance, and at last it floated close up to a
monastery. The monks were just spreading out their nets to dry
on the shore, when they heard the sound of crying. It seemed to
come from the barrel which was bobbing about near the water's
edge. They drew it to land and opened it, and there was a little
child! When the abbot heard the news, he decided to bring up the
boy, and named him 'Vassili.'

The boy lived on with the monks, and grew up to be a clever,
gentle, and handsome young man. No one could read, write, or
sing better than he, and he did everything so well that the abbot
made him wardrobe keeper.

Now, it happened about this time that the merchant, Mark, came to
the monastery in the course of a journey. The monks were very
polite to him and showed him their house and church and all they
had. When he went into the church the choir was singing, and one
voice was so clear and beautiful, that he asked who it belonged
to. Then the abbot told him of the wonderful way in which
Vassili had come to them, and Mark saw clearly that this must be
his godson whom he had twice tried to kill.

He said to the abbot: 'I can't tell you how much I enjoy that
young man's singing. If he could only come to me I would make
him overseer of all my business. As you say, he is so good and
clever. Do spare him to me. I will make his fortune, and will
present your monastery with twenty thousand crowns.'

The abbot hesitated a good deal, but he consulted all the other
monks, and at last they decided that they ought not to stand in
the way of Vassili's good fortune.

Then Mark wrote a letter to his wife and gave it to Vassili to
take to her, and this was what was in the letter: 'When the
bearer of this arrives, take him into the soap factory, and when
you pass near the great boiler, push him in. If you don't obey
my orders I shall be very angry, for this young man is a bad
fellow who is sure to ruin us all if he lives.'

Vassili had a good voyage, and on landing set off on foot for
Mark's home. On the way he met three beggars, who asked him:
'Where are you going, Vassili?'

'I am going to the house of Mark the Merchant, and have a letter
for his wife,' replied Vassili.

'Show us the letter.'

Vassili handed them the letter. They blew on it and gave it back
to him, saying: 'Now go and give the letter to Mark's wife. You
will not be forsaken.'

Vassili reached the house and gave the letter. When the mistress
read it she could hardly believe her eyes and called for her
daughter. In the letter was written, quite plainly: 'When you
receive this letter, get ready for a wedding, and let the bearer
be married next day to my daughter, Anastasia. If you don't obey
my orders I shall be very angry.'

Anastasia saw the bearer of the letter and he pleased her very
much. They dressed Vassili in fine clothes and next day he was
married to Anastasia.

In due time, Mark returned from his travels. His wife, daughter,
and son-in-law all went out to meet him. When Mark saw Vassili
he flew into a terrible rage with his wife. 'How dared you marry
my daughter without my consent?' he asked.

'I only carried out your orders,' said she. 'Here is your
letter.'

Mark read it. It certainly was his handwriting, but by no means
his wishes.

'Well,' thought he, 'you've escaped me three times, but I think I
shall get the better of you now.'  And he waited a month and was
very kind and pleasant to his daughter and her husband.

At the end of that time he said to Vassili one day, 'I want you
to go for me to my friend the Serpent King, in his beautiful
country at the world's end. Twelve years ago he built a castle
on some land of mine. I want you to ask for the rent for those
twelve years and also to find out from him what has become of my
twelve ships which sailed for his country three years ago.'

Vassili dared not disobey. He said good-bye to his young wife,
who cried bitterly at parting, hung a bag of biscuits over his
shoulders, and set out.

I really cannot tell you whether the journey was long or short.
As he tramped along he suddenly heard a voice saying: 'Vassili!
where are you going?'

Vassili looked about him, and, seeing no one, called out: 'Who
spoke to me?'

'I did; this old wide-spreading oak. Tell me where you are
going.'

'I am going to the Serpent King to receive twelve years' rent
from him.'

'When the time comes, remember me and ask the king: "Rotten to
the roots, half dead but still green, stands the old oak. Is it
to stand much longer on the earth?" '

Vassili went on further. He came to a river and got into the
ferryboat. The old ferryman asked: 'Are you going far, my
friend?'

'I am going to the Serpent King.'

'Then think of me and say to the king: "For thirty years the
ferryman has rowed to and fro. Will the tired old man have to
row much longer?" '

'Very well,' said Vassili; 'I'll ask him.'

And he walked on. In time he came to a narrow strait of the sea
and across it lay a great whale over whose back people walked and
drove as if it had been a bridge or a road. As he stepped on it
the whale said, 'Do tell me where you are going.'

'I am going to the Serpent King.'

And the whale begged: 'Think of me and say to the king: "The
poor whale has been lying three years across the strait, and men
and horses have nearly trampled his back into his ribs. Is he to
lie there much longer?" '

'I will remember,' said Vassili, and he went on.

He walked, and walked, and walked, till he came to a great green
meadow. In the meadow stood a large and splendid castle. Its
white marble walls sparkled in the light, the roof was covered
with mother o' pearl, which shone like a rainbow, and the sun
glowed like fire on the crystal windows. Vassili walked in, and
went from one room to another astonished at all the splendour he
saw.

When he reached the last room of all, he found a beautiful girl
sitting on a bed.

As soon as she saw him she said: 'Oh, Vassili, what brings you
to this accursed place?'

Vassili told her why he had come, and all he had seen and heard
on the way.

The girl said: 'You have not been sent here to collect rents,
but for your own destruction, and that the serpent may devour
you.'

She had not time to say more, when the whole castle shook, and a
rustling, hissing, groaning sound was heard. The girl quickly
pushed Vassili into a chest under the bed, locked it and
whispered: 'Listen to what the serpent and I talk about.'

Then she rose up to receive the Serpent King.

The monster rushed into the room, and threw itself panting on the
bed, crying: 'I've flown half over the world. I'm tired, VERY
tired, and want to sleep--scratch my head.'

The beautiful girl sat down near him, stroking his hideous head,
and said in a sweet coaxing voice: 'You know everything in the
world. After you left, I had such a wonderful dream. Will you
tell me what it means?'

'Out with it then, quick! What was it?'

'I dreamt I was walking on a wide road, and an oak tree said to
me: "Ask the king this: Rotten at the roots, half dead, and yet
green stands the old oak. Is it to stand much longer on the
earth?" '

'It must stand till some one comes and pushes it down with his
foot. Then it will fall, and under its roots will be found more
gold and silver than even Mark the Rich has got.'

'Then I dreamt I came to a river, and the old ferryman said to
me: "For thirty year's the ferryman has rowed to and fro. Will
the tired old man have to row much longer?" '

'That depends on himself. If some one gets into the boat to be
ferried across, the old man has only to push the boat off, and go
his way without looking back. The man in the boat will then have
to take his place.'

'And at last I dreamt that I was walking over a bridge made of a
whale's back, and the living bridge spoke to me and said: "Here
have I been stretched out these three years, and men and horses
have trampled my back down into my ribs. Must I lie here much
longer?" '

'He will have to lie there till he has thrown up the twelve ships
of Mark the Rich which he swallowed. Then he may plunge back
into the sea and heal his back.'

And the Serpent King closed his eyes, turned round on his other
side, and began to snore so loud that the windows rattled.

In all haste the lovely girl helped Vassili out of the chest, and
showed him part of his way back. He thanked her very politely,
and hurried off.

When he reached the strait the whale asked: 'Have you thought of
me?'

'Yes, as soon as I am on the other side I will tell you what you
want to know.'

When he was on the other side Vassili said to the whale: 'Throw
up those twelve ships of Mark's which you swallowed three years
ago.'

The great fish heaved itself up and threw up all the twelve ships
and their crews. Then he shook himself for joy, and plunged into
the sea.

Vassili went on further till he reached the ferry, where the old
man asked: 'Did you think of me?'

'Yes, and as soon as you have ferried me across I will tell you
what you want to know.'

When they had crossed over, Vassili said: 'Let the next man who
comes stay in the boat, but do you step on shore, push the boat
off, and you will be free, and the other man must take your
place.

Then Vassili went on further still, and soon came to the old oak
tree, pushed it with his foot, and it fell over. There, at the
roots, was more gold and silver than even Mark the Rich had.

And now the twelve ships which the whale had thrown up came
sailing along and anchored close by. On the deck of the first
ship stood the three beggars whom Vassili had met formerly, and
they said: 'Heaven has blessed you, Vassili.'  Then they
vanished away and he never saw them again.

The sailors carried all the gold and silver into the ship, and
then they set sail for home with Vassili on board.

Mark was more furious than ever. He had his horses harnessed and
drove off himself to see the Serpent King and to complain of the
way in which he had been betrayed. When he reached the river he
sprang into the ferryboat. The ferryman, however, did not get in
but pushed the boat off. . . .

Vassili led a good and happy life with his dear wife, and his
kind mother-in-law lived with them. He helped the poor and fed
and clothed the hungry and naked and all Mark's riches became
his.

For many years Mark has been ferrying people across the river.
His face is wrinkled, his hair and beard are snow white, and his
eyes are dim; but still he rows on.

[From the Serbian.]

SCHIPPEITARO

It was the custom in old times that as soon as a Japanese boy
reached manhood he should leave his home and roam through the
land in search of adventures. Sometimes he would meet with a
young man bent on the same business as himself, and then they
would fight in a friendly manner, merely to prove which was the
stronger, but on other occasions the enemy would turn out to be a
robber, who had become the terror of the neighbourhood, and then
the battle was in deadly earnest.

One day a youth started off from his native village, resolved
never to come back till he had done some great deed that would
make his name famous. But adventures did not seem very plentiful
just then, and he wandered about for a long time without meeting
either with fierce giants or distressed damsels. At last he saw
in the distance a wild mountain, half covered with a dense
forest, and thinking that this promised well at once took the
road that led to it. The difficulties he met with--huge rocks to
be climbed, deep rivers to be crossed, and thorny tracts to be
avoided--only served to make his heart beat quicker, for he was
really brave all through, and not merely when he could not help
himself, like a great many people. But in spite of all his
efforts he could not find his way out of the forest, and he began
to think he should have to pass the night there. Once more he
strained his eyes to see if there was no place in which he could
take shelter, and this time he caught sight of a small chapel in
a little clearing. He hastened quickly towards it, and curling
himself up in a warm corner soon fell asleep.

Not a sound was heard through the whole forest for some hours,
but at midnight there suddenly arose such a clamour that the
young man, tired as he was, started broad awake in an instant.
Peeping cautiously between the wooden pillars of the chapel, he
saw a troop of hideous cats, dancing furiously, making the night
horrible  with their yells. The full moon lighted up the weird
scene, and the young warrior gazed with astonishment, taking
great care to keep still, lest he should be discovered. After
some time he thought that in the midst of all their shrieks he
could make out the words, 'Do not tell Schippeitaro! Keep it
hidden and secret! Do not tell Schippeitaro!' Then, the midnight
hour having passed, they all vanished, and the youth was left
alone. Exhausted by all that had been going on round him, he
flung himself on the ground and slept till the sun rose.

The moment he woke he felt very hungry, and began to think how he
could get something to eat. So he got up and walked on, and
before he had gone very far was lucky enough to find a little
side-path, where he could trace men's footsteps. He followed the
track, and by-and-by came on some scattered huts, beyond which
lay a village. Delighted at this discovery, he was about to
hasten to the village when he heard a woman's voice weeping and
lamenting, and calling on the men to take pity on her and help
her. The sound of her distress made him forget he was hungry,
and he strode into the hut to find out for himself what was
wrong. But the men whom he asked only shook their heads and told
him it was not a matter in which he could give any help, for all
this sorrow was caused by the Spirit of the Mountain, to whom
every year they were bound to furnish a maiden for him to eat.

'To-morrow night,' said they, 'the horrible creature will come
for his dinner, and the cries you have heard were uttered by the
girl before you, upon whom the lot has fallen.'

And when the young man asked if the girl was carried off straight
from her home, they answered no, but that a large cask was set in
the forest chapel, and into this she was fastened.

As he listened to this story, the young man was filled with a
great longing to rescue the maiden from her dreadful fate. The
mention of the chapel set him thinking of the scene of the
previous night, and he went over all the details again in his
mind. 'Who is Schippeitaro?' he suddenly asked; 'can any of you
tell me?'

'Schippeitaro is the great dog that belongs to the overseer of
our prince,' said they; 'and he lives not far away.'  And they
began to laugh at the question, which seemed to them so odd and
useless.

The young man did not laugh with them, but instead left the hut
and went straight to the owner of the dog, whom he begged to lend
him the animal just for one night. Schippeitaro's master was not
at all willing to give him in charge to a man of whom he knew
nothing, but in the end he consented, and the youth led the dog
away, promising faithfully to return him next day to his master.
He next hurried to the hut where the maiden lived, and entreated
her parents to shut her up safely in a closet, after which he
took Schippeitaro to the cask, and fastened him into it. In the
evening he knew that the cask would be placed in the chapel, so
he hid himself there and waited.

At midnight, when the full moon appeared above the top of the
mountain, the cats again filled the chapel and shrieked and
yelled and danced as before. But this time they had in their
midst a huge black cat who seemed to be their king, and whom the
young man guessed to be the Spirit of the Mountain. The monster
looked eagerly about him, and his eyes sparkled with joy when he
saw the cask. He bounded high into the air with delight and
uttered cries of pleasure; then he drew near and undid the bolts.

But instead of fastening his teeth in the neck of a beautiful
maiden, Schippeitaro's teeth were fastened in HIM, and the youth
ran up and cut off his head with his sword. The other cats were
so astonished at the turn things had taken that they forgot to
run away, and the young man and Schippeitaro between them killed
several more before they thought of escaping.

At sunrise the brave dog was taken back to his master, and from
that time the mountain girls were safe, and every year a feast
was held in memory of the young warrior and the dog Schippeitaro.

[Japanische Marchen.]

THE THREE PRINCES AND THEIR BEASTS (LITHUANIAN FAIRY TALE)

Once on a time there were three princes, who had a step-sister.
One day they all set out hunting together. When they had gone
some way through a thick wood they came on a great grey wolf with
three cubs. Just as they were going to shoot, the wolf spoke and
said, 'Do not shoot me, and I will give each of you one of my
young ones. It will be a faithful friend to you.'

So the princes went on their way, and a little wolf followed each
of them.

Soon after they came on a lioness with three cubs. And she too
begged them not to shoot her, and she would give each of them a
cub. And so it happened with a fox, a hare, a boar, and a bear,
till each prince had quite a following of young beasts padding
along behind him.

Towards evening they came to a clearing in the wood, where three
birches grew at the crossing of three roads. The eldest prince
took an arrow, and shot it into the trunk of one of the birch
trees. Turning to his brothers he said:

'Let each of us mark one of these trees before we part on
different ways. When any one of us comes back to this place, he
must walk round the trees of the other two, and if he sees blood
flowing from the mark in the tree he will know that that brother
is dead, but if milk flows he will know that his brother is
alive.'

So each of the princes did as the eldest brother had said, and
when the three birches were marked by their arrows they turned to
their step-sister and asked her with which of them she meant to
live.

'With the eldest,' she answered. Then the brothers separated
from each other, and each of them set out down a different road,
followed by their beasts. And the step-sister went with the
eldest prince.

After they had gone a little way along the road they came into a
forest, and in one of the deepest glades they suddenly found
themselves opposite a castle in which there lived a band of
robbers. The prince walked up to the door and knocked. The
moment it was opened the beasts rushed in, and each seized on a
robber, killed him, and dragged the body down to the cellar.
Now, one of the robbers was not really killed, only badly
wounded, but he lay quite still and pretended to be dead like the
others. Then the prince and his step-sister entered the castle
and took up their abode in it.

The next morning the prince went out hunting. Before leaving he
told his step-sister that she might go into every room in the
house except into the cave where the dead robbers lay. But as
soon as his back was turned she forgot what he had said, and
having wandered through all the other rooms she went down to the
cellar and opened the door. As soon as she looked in the robber
who had only pretended to be dead sat up and said to her:

'Don't be afraid. Do what I tell you, and I will be your friend.

If you marry me you will be much happier with me than with your
brother. But you must first go into the sitting-room and look in
the cupboard. There you will find three bottles. In one of them
there is a healing ointment which you must put on my chin to heal
the wound; then if I drink the contents of the second bottle it
will make me well, and the third bottle will make me stronger
than I ever was before. Then, when your brother comes back from
the wood with his beasts you must go to him and say, "Brother,
you are very strong. If I were to fasten your thumbs behind your
back with a stout silk cord, could you wrench yourself free?"
And when you see that he cannot do it, call me.'

When the brother came home, the step-sister did as the robber had
told her, and fastened her brother's thumbs behind his back. But
with one wrench he set himself free, and said to her, 'Sister,
that cord is not strong enough for me.'

The next day he went back to the wood with his beasts, and the
robber told her that she must take a much stouter cord to bind
his thumbs with. But again he freed himself, though not so
easily as the first time, and he said to his sister:

'Even that cord is not strong enough.'

The third day, on his return from the wood he consented to have
his strength tested for the last time. So she took a very strong
cord of silk, which she had prepared by the robber's advice, and
this time, though the prince pulled and tugged with all his
might, he could not break the cord. So he called to her and
said: 'Sister, this time the cord is so strong I cannot break
it. Come and unfasten it for me.'

But instead of coming she called to the robber, who rushed into
the room brandishing a knife, with which he prepared to attack
the prince.

But the prince spoke and said:

'Have patience for one minute. I would like before I die to blow
three blasts on my hunting horn--one in this room, one on the
stairs, and one in the courtyard.'

So the robber consented, and the prince blew the horn. At the
first blast, the fox, which was asleep in the cage in the
courtyard, awoke, and knew that his master needed help. So he
awoke the wolf by flicking him across the eyes with his brush.
Then they awoke the lion, who sprang against the door of the cage
with might and main, so that it fell in splinters on the ground,
and the beasts were free. Rushing through the court to their
master's aid, the fox gnawed the cord in two that bound the
prince's thumbs behind his back, and the lion flung himself on
the robber, and when he had killed him and torn him in pieces
each of the beasts carried off a bone.

Then the prince turned to the step-sister and said:

'I will not kill you, but I will leave you here to repent.'  And
he fastened her with a chain to the wall, and put a great bowl in
front of her and said, 'I will not see you again till you have
filled this bowl with your tears.'

So saying, he called his beasts, and set out on his travels.
When he had gone a little way he came to an inn. Everyone in the
inn seemed so sad that he asked them what was the matter.

'Ah,' replied they, 'to-day our king's daughter is to die. She
is to be handed over to a dreadful nine-headed dragon.'

Then the prince said: 'Why should she die? I am very strong, I
will save her.'

And he set out to the sea-shore, where the dragon was to meet the
princess. And as he waited with his beasts round him a great
procession came along, accompanying the unfortunate princess:
and when the shore was reached all the people left her, and
returned sadly to their houses. But the prince remained, and
soon he saw a movement in the water a long way off. As it came
nearer, he knew what it was, for skimming swiftly along the
waters came a monster dragon with nine heads. Then the prince
took counsel with his beasts, and as the dragon approached the
shore the fox drew his brush through the water and blinded the
dragon by scattering the salt water in his eyes, while the bear
and the lion threw up more water with their paws, so that the
monster was bewildered and could see nothing. Then the prince
rushed forward with his sword and killed the dragon, and the
beasts tore the body in pieces.

Then the princess turned to the prince and thanked him for
delivering her from the dragon, and she said to him:

'Step into this carriage with me, and we will drive back to my
father's palace.'  And she gave him a ring and half of her
handkerchief. But on the way back the coachman and footman spoke
to one another and said:

'Why should we drive this stranger back to the palace? Let us
kill him, and then we can say to the king that we slew the dragon
and saved the princess, and one of us shall marry her.'

So they killed the prince, and left him dead on the roadside.
And the faithful beasts came round the dead body and wept, and
wondered what they should do. Then suddenly the wolf had an
idea, and he started off into the wood, where he found an ox,
which he straightway killed. Then he called the fox, and told
him to mount guard over the dead ox, and if a bird came past and
tried to peck at the flesh he was to catch it and bring it to the
lion. Soon after a crow flew past, and began to peck at the dead
ox. In a moment the fox had caught it and brought it to the
lion. Then the lion said to the crow:

'We will not kill you if you will promise to fly to the town
where there are three wells of healing and to bring back water
from them in your beak to make this dead man alive.'

So the crow flew away, and she filled her beak at the well of
healing, the well of strength, and the well of swiftness, and she
flew back to the dead prince and dropped the water from her beak
upon his lips, and he was healed, and could sit up and walk.

Then he set out for the town, accompanied by his faithful beasts.

And when they reached the king's palace they found that
preparations for a great feast were being made, for the princess
was to marry the coachman.

So the prince walked into the palace, and went straight up to the
coachman and said: 'What token have you got that you killed the
dragon and won the hand of the princess? I have her token
here--this ring and half her handkerchief.'

And when the king saw these tokens he knew that the prince was
speaking the truth. So the coachman was bound in chains and
thrown into prison, and the prince was married to the princess
and rewarded with half the kingdom.

One day, soon after his marriage, the prince was walking through
the woods in the evening, followed by his faithful beasts.
Darkness came on, and he lost his way, and wandered about among
the trees looking for the path that would lead him back to the
palace. As he walked he saw the light of a fire, and making his
way to it he found an old woman raking sticks and dried leaves
together, and burning them in a glade of the wood.

As he was very tired, and the night was very dark, the prince
determined not to wander further. So he asked the old woman if
he might spend the night beside her fire.

'Of course you may,' she answered. 'But I am afraid of your
beasts. Let me hit them with my rod, and then I shall not be
afraid of them.'

'Very well,' said the prince, 'I don't mind'; and she stretched
out her rod and hit the beasts, and in one moment they were
turned into stone, and so was the prince.

Now soon after this the prince's youngest brother came to the
cross-roads with the three birches, where the brothers had parted
from each other when they set out on their wanderings.
Remembering what they had agreed to do, he walked round the two
trees, and when he saw that blood oozed from the cut in the
eldest prince's tree he knew that his brother must be dead. So
he set out, followed by his beasts, and came to the town over
which his brother had ruled, and where the princess he had
married lived. And when he came into the town all the people
were in great sorrow because their prince had disappeared.

But when they saw his youngest brother, and the beasts following
him, they thought it was their own prince, and they rejoiced
greatly, and told him how they had sought him everywhere. Then
they led him to the king, and he too thought that it was his
son-in-law. But the princess knew that he was not her husband,
and she begged him to go out into the woods with his beasts, and
to look for his brother till he found him.

So the youngest prince set out to look for his brother, and he
too lost his way in the wood and night overtook him. Then he
came to the clearing among the trees, where the fire was burning
and where the old woman was raking sticks and leaves into the
flames. And he asked her if he might spend the night beside her
fire, as it was too late and too dark to go back to the town.

And she answered: 'Certainly you may. But I am afraid of your
beasts. May I give them a stroke with my rod, then I shall not
be afraid of them.'

And he said she might, for he did not know that she was a witch.
So she stretched out her rod, and in a moment the beasts and
their master were turned into stone.

It happened soon after that the second brother returned from his
wanderings and came to the cross-roads where the three birches
grew. As he went round the trees he saw that blood poured from
the cuts in the bark of two of the trees. Then he wept and said:

'Alas! both my brothers are dead.'  And he too set out towards
the town in which his brother had ruled, and his faithful beasts
followed him. When he entered the town, all the people thought
it was their own prince come back to them, and they gathered
round him, as they had gathered round his youngest brother, and
asked him where he had been and why he had not returned. And
they led him to the king's palace, but the princess knew that he
was not her husband. So when they were alone together she
besought him to go and seek for his brother and bring him home.
Calling his beasts round him, he set out and wandered through the
woods. And he put his ear down to the earth, to listen if he
could hear the sound of his brother's beasts. And it seemed to
him as if he heard a faint sound far off, but he did not know
from what direction it came. So he blew on his hunting horn and
listened again. And again he heard the sound, and this time it
seemed to come from the direction of a fire burning in the wood.
So he went towards the fire, and there the old woman was raking
sticks and leaves into the embers. And he asked her if he might
spend the night beside her fire. But she told him she was afraid
of his beasts, and he must first allow her to give each of them a
stroke with her rod.

But he answered her:

'Certainly not. I am their master, and no one shall strike them
but I myself. Give me the rod'; and he touched the fox with it,
and in a moment it was turned into stone. Then he knew that the
old woman was a witch, and he turned to her and said:

'Unless you restore my brothers and their beasts back to life at
once, my lion will tear you in pieces.'

Then the witch was terrified, and taking a young oak tree she
burnt it into white ashes, and sprinkled the ashes on the stones
that stood around. And in a moment the two princes stood before
their brother, and their beasts stood round them.

Then the three princes set off together to the town. And the
king did not know which was his son-in-law, but the princess knew
which was her husband, and there were great rejoicings throughout
the land.

THE GOAT'S EARS OF THE EMPEROR TROJAN

Once upon a time there lived an emperor whose name was Trojan,
and he had ears like a goat. Every morning, when he was shaved,
he asked if the man saw anything odd about him, and as each fresh
barber always replied that the emperor had goat's ears, he was at
once ordered to be put to death.

Now after this state of things had lasted a good while, there was
hardly a barber left in the town that could shave the emperor,
and it came to be the turn of the Master of the Company of
Barbers to go up to the palace. But, unluckily, at the very
moment that he should have set out, the master fell suddenly ill,
and told one of his apprentices that he must go in his stead.

When the youth was taken to the emperor's bedroom, he was asked
why he had come and not his master. The young man replied that
the master was ill, and there was no one but himself who could be
trusted with the honour. The emperor was satisfied with the
answer, and sat down, and let a sheet of fine linen be put round
him. Directly the young barber began his work, he, like the
rest, remarked the goat's ears of the emperor, but when he had
finished and the emperor asked his usual question as to whether
the youth had noticed anything odd about him, the young man
replied calmly, 'No, nothing at all.'  This pleased the emperor
so much that he gave him twelve ducats, and said, 'Henceforth you
shall come every day to shave me.'

So when the apprentice returned home, and the master inquired how
he had got on with the emperor, the young man answered, 'Oh, very
well, and he says I am to shave him every day, and he has given
me these twelve ducats'; but he said nothing about the goat's
ears of the emperor.

From this time the apprentice went regularly up to the palace,
receiving each morning twelve ducats in payment. But after a
while, his secret, which he had carefully kept, burnt within him,
and he longed to tell it to somebody. His master saw there was
something on his mind, and asked what it was. The youth replied
that he had been tormenting himself for some months, and should
never feel easy until some one shared his secret.

'Well, trust me,' said the master, 'I will keep it to myself; or,
if you do not like to do that, confess it to your pastor, or go
into some field outside the town and dig a hole, and, after you
have dug it, kneel down and whisper your secret three times into
the hole. Then put back the earth and come away.'

The apprentice thought that this seemed the best plan, and that
very afternoon went to a meadow outside the town, dug a deep
hole, then knelt and whispered to it three times over, 'The
Emperor Trojan has goat's ears.'  And as he said so a great
burden seemed to roll off him, and he shovelled the earth
carefully back and ran lightly home.

Weeks passed away, and there sprang up in the hole an elder tree
which had three stems, all as straight as poplars. Some
shepherds, tending their flocks near by, noticed the tree growing
there, and one of them cut down a stem to make flutes of; but,
directly he began to play, the flute would do nothing but sing:
'The Emperor Trojan has goat's ears.'  Of course, it was not long
before the whole town knew of this wonderful flute and what it
said; and, at last, the news reached the emperor in his palace.
He instantly sent for the apprentice and said to him:

'What have you been saying about me to all my people?'

The culprit tried to defend himself by saying that he had never
told anyone what he had noticed; but the emperor, instead of
listening, only drew his sword from its sheath, which so
frightened the poor fellow that he confessed exactly what he had
done, and how he had whispered the truth three times to the
earth, and how in that very place an elder tree had sprung up,
and flutes had been cut from it, which would only repeat the
words he had said. Then the emperor commanded his coach to be
made ready, and he took the youth with him, and they drove to the
spot, for he wished to see for himself whether the young man's
confession was true; but when they reached the place only one
stem was left. So the emperor desired his attendants to cut him
a flute from the remaining stem, and, when it was ready, he
ordered his chamberlain to play on it. But no tune could the
chamberlain play, though he was the best flute player about the
court--nothing came but the words, 'The Emperor Trojan has goat's
ears.'  Then the emperor knew that even the earth gave up its
secrets, and he granted the young man his life, but he never
allowed him to be his barber any more.

[Volksmarchen der Serben.]

THE NINE PEA-HENS AND THE GOLDEN APPLES

Once upon a time there stood before the palace of an emperor a
golden apple tree, which blossomed and bore fruit each night.
But every morning the fruit was gone, and the boughs were bare of
blossom, without anyone being able to discover who was the thief.

At last the emperor said to his eldest son, 'If only I could
prevent those robbers from stealing my fruit, how happy I should
be!'

And his son replied, 'I will sit up to-night and watch the tree,
and I shall soon see who it is!'

So directly it grew dark the young man went and hid himself near
the apple tree to begin his watch, but the apples had scarcely
begun to ripen before he fell asleep, and when he awoke at
sunrise the apples were gone. He felt very much ashamed of
himself, and went with lagging feet to tell his father!

Of course, though the eldest son had failed, the second made sure
that he would do better, and set out gaily at nightfall to watch
the apple tree. But no sooner had he lain himself down than his
eyes grew heavy, and when the sunbeams roused him from his
slumbers there was not an apple left on the tree.

Next came the turn of the youngest son, who made himself a
comfortable bed under the apple tree, and prepared himself to
sleep. Towards midnight he awoke, and sat up to look at the
tree. And behold! the apples were beginning to ripen, and lit
up the whole palace with their brightness. At the same moment
nine golden pea-hens flew swiftly through the air, and while
eight alighted upon the boughs laden with fruit, the ninth
fluttered to the ground where the prince lay, and instantly was
changed into a beautiful maiden, more beautiful far than any lady
in the emperor's court. The prince at once fell in love with
her, and they talked together for some time, till the maiden said
her sisters had finished plucking the apples, and now they must
all go home again. The prince, however, begged her so hard to
leave him a little of the fruit that the maiden gave him two
apples, one for himself and one for his father. Then she changed
herself back into a pea-hen, and the whole nine flew away.

As soon as the sun rose the prince entered the palace, and held
out the apple to his father, who was rejoiced to see it, and
praised his youngest son heartily for his cleverness. That
evening the prince returned to the apple tree, and everything
passed as before, and so it happened for several nights. At
length the other brothers grew angry at seeing that he never came
back without bringing two golden apples with him, and they went
to consult an old witch, who promised to spy after him, and
discover how he managed to get the apples. So, when the evening
came, the old woman hid herself under the tree and waited for the
prince. Before long he arrived and laid down on his bed, and was
soon fast asleep. Towards midnight there was a rush of wings,
and the eight pea-hens settled on the tree, while the ninth
became a maiden, and ran to greet the prince. Then the witch
stretched out her hand, and cut off a lock of the maiden's hair,
and in an instant the girl sprang up, a pea-hen once more, spread
her wings and flew away, while her sisters, who were busily
stripping the boughs, flew after her.

When he had recovered from his surprise at the unexpected
disappearance of the maiden, the prince exclaimed, 'What can be
the matter?' and, looking about him, discovered the old witch
hidden under the bed. He dragged her out, and in his fury called
his guards, and ordered them to put her to death as fast as
possible. But that did no good as far as the pea-hens went.
They never came back any more, though the prince returned to the
tree every night, and wept his heart out for his lost love. This
went on for some time, till the prince could bear it no longer,
and made up his mind he would search the world through for her.
In vain his father tried to persuade him that his task was
hopeless, and that other girls were to be found as beautiful as
this one. The prince would listen to nothing, and, accompanied
by only one servant, set out on his quest.

After travelling for many days, he arrived at length before a
large gate, and through the bars he could see the streets of a
town, and even the palace. The prince tried to pass in, but the
way was barred by the keeper of the gate, who wanted to know who
he was, why he was there, and how he had learnt the way, and he
was not allowed to enter unless the empress herself came and gave
him leave. A message was sent to her, and when she stood at the
gate the prince thought he had lost his wits, for there was the
maiden he had left his home to seek. And she hastened to him,
and took his hand, and drew him into the palace. In a few days
they were married, and the prince forgot his father and his
brothers, and made up his mind that he would live and die in the
castle.

One morning the empress told him that she was going to take a
walk by herself, and that she would leave the keys of twelve
cellars to his care. 'If you wish to enter the first eleven
cellars,' said she, 'you can; but beware of even unlocking the
door of the twelfth, or it will be the worse for you.'

The prince, who was left alone in the castle, soon got tired of
being by himself, and began to look about for something to amuse
him.

'What CAN there be in that twelfth cellar,' he thought to
himself, 'which I must not see?' And he went downstairs and
unlocked the doors, one after the other. When he got to the
twelfth he paused, but his curiosity was too much for him, and in
another instant the key was turned and the cellar lay open before
him. It was empty, save for a large cask, bound with iron hoops,
and out of the cask a voice was saying entreatingly, 'For
goodness' sake, brother, fetch me some water; I am dying of
thirst!'

The prince, who was very tender-hearted, brought some water at
once, and pushed it through a hole in the barrel; and as he did
so one of the iron hoops burst.

He was turning away, when a voice cried the second time,
'Brother, for pity's sake fetch me some water; I'm dying of
thirst!'

So the prince went back, and brought some more water, and again a
hoop sprang.

And for the third time the voice still called for water; and when
water was given it the last hoop was rent, the cask fell in
pieces, and out flew a dragon, who snatched up the empress just
as she was returning from her walk, and carried her off. Some
servants who saw what had happened came rushing to the prince,
and the poor young man went nearly mad when he heard the result
of his own folly, and could only cry out that he would follow the
dragon to the ends of the earth, until he got his wife again.

For months and months he wandered about, first in this direction
and then in that, without finding any traces of the dragon or his
captive. At last he came to a stream, and as he stopped for a
moment to look at it he noticed a little fish lying on the bank,
beating its tail convulsively, in a vain effort to get back into
the water.

'Oh, for pity's sake, my brother,' shrieked the little creature,
'help me, and put me back into the river, and I will repay you
some day. Take one of my scales, and when you are in danger
twist it in your fingers, and I will come!'

The prince picked up the fish and threw it into the water; then
he took off one of its scales, as he had been told, and put it in
his pocket, carefully wrapped in a cloth. Then he went on his
way till, some miles further down the road, he found a fox caught
in a trap.

'Oh! be a brother to me!' called the fox, 'and free me from this
trap, and I will help you when you are in need. Pull out one of
my hairs, and when you are in danger twist it in your fingers,
and I will come.'

So the prince unfastened the trap, pulled out one of the fox's
hairs, and continued his journey. And as he was going over the
mountain he passed a wolf entangled in a snare, who begged to be
set at liberty.

'Only deliver me from death,' he said, 'and you will never be
sorry for it. Take a lock of my fur, and when you need me twist
it in your fingers.'  And the prince undid the snare and let the
wolf go.

For a long time he walked on, without having any more adventures,
till at length he met a man travelling on the same road.

'Oh, brother!' asked the prince, 'tell me, if you can, where the
dragon-emperor lives?'

The man told him where he would find the palace, and how long it
would take him to get there, and the prince thanked him, and
followed his directions, till that same evening he reached the
town where the dragon-emperor lived. When he entered the
palace, to his great joy he found his wife sitting alone in a
vast hall, and they began hastily to invent plans for her escape.

There was no time to waste, as the dragon might return directly,
so they took two horses out of the stable, and rode away at
lightning speed. Hardly were they out of sight of the palace
than the dragon came home and found that his prisoner had flown.
He sent at once for his talking horse, and said to him:

'Give me your advice; what shall I do--have my supper as usual,
or set out in pursuit of them?'

'Eat your supper with a free mind first,' answered the horse,
'and follow them afterwards.'

So the dragon ate till it was past mid-day, and when he could eat
no more he mounted his horse and set out after the fugitives. In
a short time he had come up with them, and as he snatched the
empress out of her saddle he said to the prince:

'This time I will forgive you, because you brought me the water
when I was in the cask; but beware how you return here, or you
will pay for it with your life.'

Half mad with grief, the prince rode sadly on a little further,
hardly knowing what he was doing. Then he could bear it no
longer and turned back to the palace, in spite of the dragon's
threats. Again the empress was sitting alone, and once more they
began to think of a scheme by which they could escape the
dragon's power.

'Ask the dragon when he comes home,' said the prince, 'where he
got that wonderful horse from, and then you can tell me, and I
will try to find another like it.'

Then, fearing to meet his enemy, he stole out of the castle.

Soon after the dragon came home, and the empress sat down near
him, and began to coax and flatter him into a good humour, and at
last she said:

'But tell me about that wonderful horse you were riding
yesterday. There cannot be another like it in the whole world.
Where did you get it from?'

And he answered:

'The way I got it is a way which no one else can take. On the
top of a high mountain dwells an old woman, who has in her
stables twelve horses, each one more beautiful than the other.
And in one corner is a thin, wretched-looking animal whom no one
would glance at a second time, but he is in reality the best of
the lot. He is twin brother to my own horse, and can fly as high
as the clouds themselves. But no one can ever get this horse
without first serving the old woman for three whole days. And
besides the horses she has a foal and its mother, and the man who
serves her must look after them for three whole days, and if he
does not let them run away he will in the end get the choice of
any horse as a present from the old woman. But if he fails to
keep the foal and its mother safe on any one of the three nights
his head will pay.'

The next day the prince watched till the dragon left the house,
and then he crept in to the empress, who told him all she had
learnt from her gaoler. The prince at once determined to seek
the old woman on the top of the mountain, and lost no time in
setting out. It was a long and steep climb, but at last he found
her, and with a low bow he began:

'Good greeting to you, little mother!'

'Good greeting to you, my son! What are you doing here?'

'I wish to become your servant,' answered he.

'So you shall,' said the old woman. 'If you can take care of my
mare for three days I will give you a horse for wages, but if you
let her stray you will lose your head'; and as she spoke she led
him into a courtyard surrounded with palings, and on every post a
man's head was stuck. One post only was empty, and as they
passed it cried out:

'Woman, give me the head I am waiting for!'

The old woman made no answer, but turned to the prince and said:

'Look! all those men took service with me, on the same
conditions as you, but not one was able to guard the mare!'

But the prince did not waver, and declared he would abide by his
words.

When evening came he led the mare out of the stable and mounted
her, and the colt ran behind. He managed to keep his seat for a
long time, in spite of all her efforts to throw him, but at
length he grew so weary that he fell fast asleep, and when he
woke he found himself sitting on a log, with the halter in his
hands. He jumped up in terror, but the mare was nowhere to be
seen, and he started with a beating heart in search of her. He
had gone some way without a single trace to guide him, when he
came to a little river. The sight of the water brought back to
his mind the fish whom he had saved from death, and he hastily
drew the scale from his pocket. It had hardly touched his
fingers when the fish appeared in the stream beside him.

'What is it, my brother?' asked the fish anxiously.

'The old woman's mare strayed last night, and I don't know where
to look for her.'

'Oh, I can tell you that: she has changed herself into a big
fish, and her foal into a little one. But strike the water with
the halter and say, "Come here, O mare of the mountain witch!"
and she will come.'

The prince did as he was bid, and the mare and her foal stood
before him. Then he put the halter round her neck, and rode her
home, the foal always trotting behind them. The old woman was at
the door to receive them, and gave the prince some food while she
led the mare back to the stable.

'You should have gone among the fishes,' cried the old woman,
striking the animal with a stick.

'I did go among the fishes,' replied the mare; 'but they are no
friends of mine, for they betrayed me at once.'

'Well, go among the foxes this time,' said she, and returned to
the house, not knowing that the prince had overheard her.

So when it began to grow dark the prince mounted the mare for the
second time and rode into the meadows, and the foal trotted
behind its mother. Again he managed to stick on till midnight:
then a sleep overtook him that he could not battle against, and
when he woke up he found himself, as before, sitting on the log,
with the halter in his hands. He gave a shriek of dismay, and
sprang up in search of the wanderers. As he went he suddenly
remembered the words that the old woman had said to the mare, and
he drew out the fox hair and twisted it in his fingers.

'What is it, my brother?' asked the fox, who instantly appeared
before him.

'The old witch's mare has run away from me, and I do not know
where to look for her.'

'She is with us,' replied the fox, 'and has changed