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The Black Arrow (Illustrated)
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ONCE upon a time there was a man whose name was just Master Jacob and nothing more.
All that Master Jacob had in the world was a good fat pig, two black goats, a wife, and a merry temper — which was more than many a better man than he had, for the matter of that.
" See, now," says Master Jacob, " I will drive the fat pig to the market to-morrow ; who knows but that I might strike a bit of a sale."
" Do," says Master Jacob's wife, for she was of the good sort, and always nodded when he said "yes," as the saying goes.
Now there were three rogues in the town over the hill, who lived in plenty; one was the priest, one was the provost, and one was the master mayor; and which was the greatest rogue of the three it would be a hard matter to tell, but perhaps it was the priest.
" See, now," says the priest to the other two, " Master Jacob, who lives over yonder way, is going to bring his fat pig to market to-morrow. If you have a mind for a trick, we will go snacks in what we win, and each of us will have a rib or two of bacon hanging in the pantry, and a string or so of sausages back in the chimney without paying so much as a brass button for them."
Well, of course that was a tune to which the others were willing to
dance. So the rogue of a priest told them to do thus and so, and to say this and that, and they would cheat Master Jacob out of his good fat pig as easily as a beggar eats buttered parsnips.
So the next morning off starts Master Jacob to the market, driving his fat pig before him with a bit of string around the leg of it. Down he comes into the town, and the first one whom he meets is the master priest.
" How do you find yourself, Master Jacob ?" says the priest, " and where are you going with that fine, fat dog ?"
" Dog!" says Master Jacob, opening his eyes till they were as big and as round as saucers. " Dog ! Prut! It is as fine a pig as ever came into this town, I would have you know."
" What!" says the priest. " Do you try to tell me that that is a pig, when I can see with both of my ears and all of my eyes that it is a great, fat dog?"
" I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.
" I say it is a dog!" says the priest.
" I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.
" I say it is a dog!" says the priest.
" I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.
Just then who should come along but the provost, with his hands in his pockets and his pipe in his mouth, looking as high and mighty as though he owned all of that town and the sun and the moon into the bargain.
" Look, friend," says the priest. " We have been saying so and so and so and so, just now. Will you tell me, is that a pig, or is it a dog?"
" Prut!" says the provost, "how you talk, neighbor! Do you take me for a fool I should like to know ? Why, it is as plain as the nose on your face that it is a great, fat dog."
" I say it is a pig !" bawled Master Jacob.
" I say it is a dog!" says the provost.
" I say it is a pig !" says Master Jacob.
" I say it is a dog!" says the provost.
" I say it is a pig !" says Master Jacob.
" Come, come," says the priest, " let us have no high words over the matter. No, no; we will take it to the mayor. If he says that it is a pig we two will give you ten shillings ; and if he says it is a dog, you will give the animal to us as a penance."
Well, Master Jacob was satisfied with that, for he was almost certain that it was a pig. So off they marched to the mayor's house. There the
priest told all about the matter, for he was used to talking. " And now," says he, " is it a pig, or is it a dog?"
" Why," says the mayor, " I wish I may be choked to death with a string of sausages if it is not a dog, and a big dog and a fat dog into the bargain."
So there was an end of the matter, and Master Jacob had to march off home without his pig and with no more in his pockets than he had before. All the same, he saw what kind of trick had been played on him, and, says he to himself, " What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. If one can pipe another can whistle; I'll just try a bit of a trick myself." So he went to his wife and told her that he had a mind to do thus and so, and that she must do this and that; for he thought of trying his hand at a little trickery as well as other folks.
Now, as I told you before, Master Jacob had two goats, both of them as black as the inside of your hat at midnight; moreover, they were as like as two spoons in the same dish; for no one could have told them apart unless he had lived with them year in and year out, rainy weather and clear, as Master Jacob had done.
Well, the next day Master Jacob tied a rope around the neck of one of the goats, took down a basket from the wall, and started off to the town over the hill, leading his goat behind him. By and by he came to the mar ket place and began buying many and one things, until his basket was as full as it could hold. After a while whom should he see coming along but the priest and the provost and the mayor, walking arm-in-arm as bold as you please.
" Halloa, Master Jacob," said they, " and what have you there ?"
" The blessed saints only know that," said Master Jacob. " It may be a black cat for all that I know ; it was a black goat when I left home this morning."
And what was Master Jacob going to do with his little black goat? That was what they should like to know.
" Oh," said Master Jacob, " I am about to send my little black goat on an errand; if you will wait you shall see for yourselves."
Then what did he do but hang the basket around the goat's neck. "Go home to your mistress," said he, " and tell her to boil the beef and cabbage for dinner to-day; and, stop! tell her to go to Neighbor Nicho las's house and borrow a good big jug of beer, for I have a masterful thirst this morning." Then he gave the goat a slap on the back, and off it went
as though the ground were hot under it. But whether it ever really went home or not, I never heard.
As for the priest, the provost, and the mayor, you may guess how they grinned at all of this. Good land sake's alive ! And did Master Jacob really mean to say that the little black goat would tell the mistress all that ?
Oh, yes; that it would. It was a keen blade, that little black goat, ind if they would only come home with him, Master Jacob would show them.
So off they all went, Master Jacob and the priest and the provost and the mayor, and after a while they came to Master Jacob's house. Yes, sure enough, there was a black goat feeding in the front yard, and how should the priest and the provost and the mayor know that it was not the same
one that they had seen at the market-place! And just then out came Master Jacob's wife. " Come in, Jacob," says she, " the cabbage and the meat are all ready. As for the beer, Neighbor Nicholas had none to spare, so I just borrowed a jugful of Neighbor Frederick, and it is as good as the other for certain and sure."
Dear, dear! how the three cronies did open their eyes when they heard all of this ! They would like to have such a goat as that, indeed they would. Now, if Master Jacob had a mind to sell his goat, they would give as much as twenty dollars for it.
Oh, no ; Master Jacob could not think of selling his nice little, dear little black goat for twenty dollars.
For thirty, then.
No; Master Jacob would not sell his goat for thirty dollars, either.
Well, they would give as much as forty.
No; forty dollars was not enough for such a goat as that.
So they bargained and bargained till the upshot of the matter was that they paid Master Jacob fifty dollars, and marched off with the goat as pleased as pleased could be.
Well, the three rogues were not long in finding out what a trick had been played upon them, I can tell you. So, in a day or two, whom should Master Jacob see coming down the road but the priest, the provost, and the master mayor, and anybody could see with half an eye that they were in an awful fume.
" Hi!" says Master Jacob, " there will be hot water boiling presently." In he went to his good wife. " Here," says he, " take this bladder of blood that we were going to make into pudding, and hide it under your apron, and then when I do this and that, you do thus and so."
Presently in came the priest, the provost, and the mayor, bubbling and sizzling like water on slake lime. " What kind of a goat was that that you sold us?" bawled they, as soon as they could catch their breaths.
" My black goat," says Master Jacob.
Then look! He would run on no errands, and would do nothing that it was told. It was of no more use about the house than five wheels to a wagon. Now Master Jacob might just go and put his hat on and come along with them, for they were about to take him away to prison.
" But stop a bit," says Master Jacob. " Did you say ' by the great horn spoon/ when you told the goat to do this or that?"
No; the cronies had done nothing of the kind, for Master Jacob had said nothing about a great horn spoon when he sold them the goat.
" Why didn't you remind me ?" says Master Jacob to his good wife.
" I didn't think of it," says she.
" You didn't ?" says he.
" No," says she.
" Then take that!" says he, and he out with a great sharp knife and jabbed it into the bladder under her apron, so that the blood ran out like everything.
" Ugh!" says the good wife, and then fell down and lay quite still, just for all the world as though she were dead.
When the three cronies saw this, they gaped like fish out of water. Just look now ! Master Jacob had gone and killed his good wife, and all for nothing at all. Dear, dear! what a hasty temper the man had. Now he had gotten himself into a pretty scrape, and would have to go before the judge and settle the business with him.
" Tut ! tut !" says Master Jacob, " the broth is not all in the ashes yet. Perhaps I am a bit hasty, but we will soon mend this stocking."
So he went to the closet in the corner of the room, and brought out a little tin horn. He blew a turn or two over his wife, whereat she sneezed, and then sat up as good and as sound as ever.
As for the priest and the provost and the mayor, they thought that they had never seen anything so wonderful in all of their lives before. They must and would have that tin horn if it was to be had ; now, how much would Master Jacob take for it, money down?
Oh, Master Jacob did not want to part with his horn i all the same, if he had to sell it, he would just as lief that they should buy it as anybody. So they bargained and bargained, and the end of the matter was that they paid down another fifty dollars and marched off with the little tin horn, blowing away at it for dear life.
By and by they came home, and there stood the goat, nibbling at the grass in front of the house and thinking of no harm at all. " So!" says the provost, " was it you that would do nothing for us without our saying, ' By the great horn spoon ?' Take that then !" And he fetched the goat a thwack with his heavy walking-staff so that it fell down, and lay with no more motion than a stone. " There," says he, " that business is done ; and now lend me the horn a minute, brother, till I fetch him back again."
Well, he blew and he blew, and he blew and he blew, till he was as red in the face as a cherry, but the goat moved never so much as a single hair. Then the priest took a turn at the horn, but he had no better luck than the provost. Last of all the mayor had a try at it; but he might as well have blown the horn over a lump of dough for all the answer he had for his blowing.
Then it began to work into their heads that they had been befooled again. Phew! what a passion they were in. I can only say that I am glad that I was not in Master Jacob's shoes. "We'll put him in prison right away," said they, and off they went to do as they said.
But Master Jacob saw them coming down the road, and was ready for them this time too. He took two pots and filled them with pitch, and over the top of the pitch he spread gold and silver money, so that if you had looked into the pots you would have thought that there was nothing in them but what you saw on the top. Then he took the pots off into the little woods back of the house. Now in the woods was a great deep pit, and all around the pit grew a row of bushes, so thick that nothing was to be seen of the mouth of the hole.
By and by came the priest and the mayor and the provost to Master Jacob's house, puffing and blowing and fuming.
Rap! rap ! tap ! they knocked at the door, but nobody was there but Master Jacob's wife.
Was Master Jacob at home? That was what they wanted to know, for they had a score to settle with him.
Oh, Master Jacob's wife did not know just where he was, but she thought that he was in the little woods back of the house yonder, gather ing money.
Phew ! and did money grow so near to the house as all that ? This was a matter to be looked into, for if money was to be gathered they must have their share. So off they went to the woods, hot-foot.
Yes; there was Master Jacob, sure enough, and what was more, he was carrying two pots, one on each arm.
" Hi! Master Jacob, and what have you there?" said they.
" Oh, nothing much," says Master Jacob.
Yes; that was all very good, but they would like to look into those pots that he was carrying; that was what the three cronies said.
"Well," says Master Jacob, "you may look into the pots if you choose;
all the same, I will tell you that they are both full of pitch, and that there is only just a little money scattered over the top.
Yes, yes; that was all very well, but the three cronies knew the smell of money from the smell of pitch. See now, they had been fooled twice already, and were not to be caught again. Now, where did Master Jacob get that money, that was what they wanted to know.
" Oh," says Master Jacob, " I cannot tell you that ; if you want to gather money you will have to look for it yourselves. But you must not go too near to those thick bushes yonder, for there is a deep pit hidden there, and you will be sure to fall into it."
When the priest and the provost and the mayor heard this, they nudged one another with their elbows and winked with one eye. They knew how much of that cheese to swallow. They would just take a look at this won derful pit, for they thought that the money was hidden in the bushes for sure and certain. So off they went as fast as they could lay foot to the ground.
"Just you stay here," said the priest to the others, "while I go and see whether there really is a pit as he said." For he thought to himself that he would go and gather a pocketful of the money before it would be share and share with his comrades. So, into the thicket he jumped, and— plump!—he fell into the great, deep pit ; and there was an end of number one.
By and by the others grew tired of tarrying. "I'll go and see what he is waiting for," says the provost. For he thought to himself, " He is filling his pockets, and I might as well have my share." So, into the thicket he jumped, and—plump!—he fell into the great, deep pit; and there was an end of number two.
As for the mayor, he waited and waited. " What a fool am I," said he at last, " to sit here twiddling my thumbs while the two rogues yonder are filling their pockets without me. It is little or nothing but the scraps and the bones that I will come in for."
So the upshot of the matter was that he too ran and jumped into the thicket, and heels over head into the great, deep pit, and there was an end of number three. And if Master Jacob ever helped them out, you may depend upon it that he made them promise to behave themselves in time to come.
And this is true that I tell you : it would have been cheaper for them to
have bought their pork in the first place, for, as it was, they paid a pretty penny for it.
As for Master Jacob and his good wife, they had a hundred dollars in good hard money, and if they did not get along in the world with that, why I, for one, want nothing more to do with them.
THERE was a man who died and left behind him three sons, and nothing but two pennies to each. So, as there was little to be gained by scraping the dish at home, off they packed to the king's house, where they might find better faring. The two elder lads were smart fellows enough; as for Peterkin, he was the youngest — why, nobody thought much of him. So off they went — tramp ! tramp ! tramp !—all three together. By and by they came to a great black forest where little was to be seen either before or behind them.
There old Father Hunger met them, and that was the worse for them, for there was nothing at all to eat. They looked here and there, and, after a while, what should they come across but a little grey hare caught in a snare.
Then, if anybody was glad, it was the two elder brothers. " Here is something to stay our stomachs," said they.
But Peterkin had a soft heart in his breast. " See, brothers," said he, " look how the poor thing turns up its eyes. Sure it would be a pity to take its life, even though our stomachs do grumble a bit."
But the two elder brothers were deaf in that ear. They had gone' without their dinners long enough, and they were no such foolish fellows as to throw it away, now that it had come to them.
But Peterkin begged and begged, until, at last, the two said that they
would let the Little Grey Hare go free if he would give them the two pennies that he had in his pocket.
Well, Peterkin let them have the pennies, and they let the hare go, and glad enough it was to get away, I can tell you.
" See, Peterkin," it said, speaking as plainly as a Christian, " you shall lose nothing by this. When you are in a tight place, whistle on your fingers—thus—and perhaps help will come to you."
Then it thumped its feet on the ground and away it scampered.
As for Peter's brothers, they laughed and laughed. A fool and his money were soon parted, said they. How could a little grey hare help him, they should like to know?
After a while they came to the town, where Peterkin's brothers took up their lodgings at a good inn. As for Peterkin, he had to go and sleep in the straw, for one cannot spend money and have it both. So while the brothers were eating broth with meat in it, Peterkin went with nothing.
" I wonder," said he, " if the Little Grey Hare can help me now." So he whistled on his ringers, just as it had told him.
Then who should come hopping and skipping along but the Little Grey Hare itself. " What do you want, Peterkin ?" it said.
" I should like," said Peterkin," to have something to eat."
" Nothing easier than that," said the Little Grey Hare ; and before one could wink twice a fine feast, fit for a king, was spread out before him, and he fell to as though he had not eaten a bite for seven years.
After that he slept like a flat stone, for one can sleep well even in the straw, if one only has a good supper within one.
When the next morning had come, the two elder brothers bought them each a good new coat with brass buttons. Peterkin they said would have to go as he was, for patches and tatters were good enough for such a spend thrift.
But Peterkin knew a way out of that hole. Back of the house he went, and there he blew on his fingers.
" What will you have?" said the Little Grey Hare.
" I should like," said Peterkin, " to have a fine new suit of clothes, so that I can go to the king's house with my brothers and not be ashamed."
" If that is all that you want," said the Hare, " it is little enough ;" and there lay the finest suit of clothes that Peterkin had ever seen, for it was all of blue silk sewed with golden threads. So Peterkin dressed himself in his fine clothes, and you may guess how his brothers stared when they saw him.
Off they all went to the king's house, and there was the king feeding his chickens ; for that was all the work he had upon his hands, and an easy life he led of it. The king looked at Peterkin, and thought that he had never seen such fine clothes. Did they want service ? Well, the king thought that he might give it to them. The oldest brother might tend the pigs, the second might look after the cows. But as for Peterkin, he was so spruce and neat that he might stay in the house and open the door when folks knocked. That was what his fine clothes did for him.
So Peterkin had the soft feathers in that nest, for he sat in the warm chimney all day, and had the scraping of the pipkins when good things had been cooked.
Well, things went quietly enough for a while, but the elder brothers kept up a great buzzing in their heads, I can tell you ; for one does not like to see another step in front of one, and that is the truth.
So, one day, who should come to the king but the two elder brothers. Perhaps, said they, the king did not know it, but there was a giant over yonder who had a grey goose that laid a golden egg every day of her life. Now Peterkin had said more than once, and over and over again, that he was man enough to get the grey goose for the king whenever the king wanted it. You can guess how this tickled the king's ears. Off he sent for Peterkin, and Peterkin came.
Hui ! how Peterkin opened his eyes when he heard what the king wanted. He had never said that he could get the giant's goose; he vowed and swore that he had not. But it was to no purpose that he talked, the king wanted the grey goose, and Peterkin would have to get it for him. He might have three days for the business, and that was all. Then, if he brought the grey goose, he should have two bags of gold money ; if he did not bring it he should pack off to the prison.
So Peterkin left the king, and if anybody was down in the mouth in all of the world it was Peterkin.
" Perhaps," said he, " the Little Grey Hare can help me." So he blew a turn or two on his fingers, and the Little Grey Hare came hopping and skipping up to him.
What was Peterkin in the dumps about now ? That was what it wanted to know.
Why, the king wanted him to get such and such a grey goose from over at the giant's house, and Peterkin knew no more about it than a red herring in a box ; that was the trouble.
" Oh, well," says the Little Grey Hare, " maybe that can be cured; just go to the king and ask for this and that and the other thing, and we will see what can be done about the business."
So off went Peterkin to the king; perhaps he could get the grey goose after all, but he must have three barrels of soft pitch, and a bag of barley corn, and a pot of good tallow.
The king let him have all that he wanted, and then the Little Grey Hare took Peterkin and the three barrels of soft pitch and the bag of barley-corn and the pot of good tallow on its back, and off it went till the wind whistled behind Peterkin's ears.
(Now that was a great load for a little grey hare ; but I tell the story to you just as Time's Clock told it to me.)
After a while they came to a river, and then the Little Grey Hare said:
" Brother Pike! Brother Pike! Here are folks would like to cross the wide river."
Then up came a great river pike, and on his back he took Peterkin and the Little Grey Hare and the three barrels of pitch and the sack of barley corn and the pot of good tallow, and away he swam till he had brought them from this side to that.
(Now that was a great load for a river pike to carry; but as Time's Clock told the story to me I tell it to you.)
Then the Little Grey Hare went on and on again until it came to a high hill, and on the top of the high hill was a great house ; that was where the giant lived.
Then Peterkin took the soft pitch and made a wide pathway of it. After that he smeared his feet all over with the tallow, so that he stuck to the soft pitch no more than water sticks to a cabbage leaf. Then he shouldered his bag of barley-corn and went up to the giant's castle, and hunted around and hunted around until he had found where the grey goose was ; and it was in the kitchen and would not come out. But Peterkin had a way to bring it; he scattered the barley-corn all about, and when the grey goose saw that, it came out quickly enough and began to eat the grains as fast as it could gobble. But Peterkin did not give it much time for this, for up he caught it, and off he went as fast as he could scamper.
Then the grey goose flapped its wings and began squalling. " Master! master! Here I am! here I am! It is Peterkin who has me!"
Out ran the giant with his great iron club, and after Peterkin he came
as fast as he could lay foot to the ground. But Peterkin had the buttered side of the cake this time, for he ran over the pitch road as easily as though it were made of good stones; that was because his boots were smeared with tallow. As for the giant, he stuck to it as a fly sticks to the butter, so that it was very slow travelling that he made of it.
Then the hare took Peterkin up on its back, and away it scampered till the wind whistled behind his ears. When it had come to the river it said:
"Brother Pike! Brother Pike! Here are folks would like to cross the wide river."
Then the pike took them on its back and away they went. But it was a tight squeeze through that crack, I can tell you, for they had hardly left the shore when up came the giant, fuming and boiling like water in the pot.
" Is that you, Peterkin ?" said he.
" Yes; it is I," said Peterkin.
" And did you steal my grey goose ?" said the giant.
" Yes ; I stole your grey goose," said Peterkin.
" And what would you do if you were me and I were you ?" said the giant.
" I would do what I could," said Peterkin.
After that the giant went back home, shaking his head and talking to himself.
So the king got the grey goose, and was as glad as glad could be. And Peterkin got the bags of gold, and was glad also. Thus there were two in the world pleased at the same time.
And now the king could not make too much of Peterkin. It was Peterkin here and Peterkin there, till Peterkin's brothers were as sour as bad beer over the matter.
So, one day, they came buzzing in the king's ear again ; perhaps the king did not know it, but that same giant had a silver bell, and every time that the bell was rung a good dinner was spread ready for the eating. Now, Peterkin had been saying to everybody that he could get that bell for the king just as easily as he had gotten the grey goose. At this the king pricked up his ears, for it tickled them to hear such talk. He sent for Peterkin to come to him, and Peterkin came. He vowed and swore that he had said nothing about getting the giant's bell. But it was of no use; he only wasted his breath. The king wanted the silver bell, and the king must have it. Peterkin should have three days in which to get it. If he brought it at the end of that time, he should have half of the kingdom to
rule over. If he did not bring it he should have his ears clipped ; so there was an end of that talk.
It was a bad piece of business, but off Peterkin went and blew on his fingers, and up came the Little Grey Hare.
" Well," said the Little Grey Hare, " and what is the trouble with us now ?"
Why, the king wanted a little silver bell that was over at the giant's house, and he had to go and get it for him ; that was the trouble with Peterkin.
" Well," says the Little Grey Hare," there is no telling what one can do till one tries; just get a little wad of tow and come along, and we will see what we can make of it."
So Peterkin got the wad of tow, and then he sat him on the Little Grey Hare's back, and away they went till the wind whistled behind his ears. When they came to the river the Little Grey Hare called on the pike, and up it came and carried them over as it had done before. By and by they came to the giant's house, and this time the giant was away from home, which was a lucky thing for Peterkin.
Peterkin climbed into the window, and hunted here and there till he had found the little silver bell. Then he wrapped the tow around the clapper, but, in spite of all that he could do, it made a jingle or two. Then away he scampered to the Little Grey Hare. He mounted on its back, and off they went.
But the giant heard the jingle of the little silver bell, and home he came as fast as his legs could carry him.
He hunted here and there till he found the track of Peterkin, then after him he went, three miles at a step.
When he came to the river, there was Peterkin, just out of harm's way.
" Is that you, Peterkin ?" bawled the giant.
" Yes ; it is I," said Peterkin.
" And have you stolen my silver bell ?" said the giant.
" Yes; I have stolen your silver bell," said Peterkin.
" And have you stolen my grey goose too ?" said the giant.
Yes; Peterkin had stolen that too.
" And what would you do if you were me and I were you ?" said the giant.
" I would do what I could," said Peterkin.
At this the giant went back home, grumbling and muttering to himself, and if Peterkin had been by it would have been bad for Peterkin.
Dear, dear ! but the king was glad to get the silver bell; as for Peterkin, he was a great man now, for he ruled over half of the kingdom.
But now the two elder brothers were less pleased than ever before ; they grumbled and talked together until the upshot of the matter was that they went to the king for the third time. Peterkin had been bragging and talk ing again. This time he had said that the giant over yonder had a sword of such a kind that it gave more light in the dark than fourteen candles, and that he could get the sword as easily as he had gotten the grey goose and the little silver bell.
After that nothing would satisfy the king but for Peterkin to go and get the sword. Peterkin argued and talked, and talked and argued, but it was for no good; he might have talked till the end of all things. The king wanted the sword, and the king must have it. If Peterkin could bring it to him in three days' time he might have the princess for his wife ; if he came back empty-handed he should have a good thong of skin cut off of his back from top to bottom ; that was what the king said.
So there was nothing for it but for Peterkin to whistle on his fingers for the Little Grey Hare once more.
" And what is it this time?" said the Little Grey Hare.
Why, the king wanted such and such a kind of sword, and Peterkin must go and get it for him ; that was the trouble.
Well, well; there might be a hole in this hedge as well as another. But this time Peterkin must borrow one of the princess's dresses and her golden comb; then one might see what could be done.
So Peterkin went to the king and said that he must have the dress and the comb, and the king let him have them. Then he mounted on the Lit tle Grey Hare and— whisk ! — away they went as fast as before.
Well, they crossed the river and came to the giant's house once more. There Peterkin dressed himself in the princess's dress, and combed his hair with her golden comb; and as he combed his hair it grew longer and longer, and the end of the matter was that he looked for all the world like as fine and strapping a lass as ever a body saw. Then he went up to the giant's house, and — rap ! tap ! tap ! — he knocked at the door as bold as brass. The giant was in this time, and he came and opened the door himself. But when he saw what he thought was a fine lass, he smiled as though he had never eaten anything in all his life but soft butter.
Perhaps the pretty lass would come in and sit down for a bit; that was what he said to Peterkin.
Oh, yes! that suited Peterkin; of course he would come in. So in he came, and then he and the giant sat down to supper together. After they had eaten as much as they could the giant laid his head in Peterkin's lap, and Peterkin combed his hair and combed his hair, until he fell fast asleep and began to snore so that he made the cinders fly up the chimney.
Then Peterkin rose up softly and took down the Sword of Light from the wall. After that he went out on tiptoes and mounted the Little Grey Hare, and away they went till the chips flew behind them.
By and by the giant opened his eyes and saw that Peterkin was gone, and, what was more, his Sword of Light was gone also. Then what a rage he was in! Off he went after Peterkin and the Little Grey Hare, seven
miles at a step. But he was just a little too late, though there was no room to spare between Peterkin and him, and that is the truth.
" Is that you, Peterkin ?" said he.
"Yes; it is I," said Peterkin.
" And have you stolen my Sword of Light ?" said the giant.
Oh, yes ; Peterkin had done that.
" And what would you do if you were me and I were you ?" said the giant.
" I would drink the river dry and follow after," said Peterkin.
" That is good," said the giant. So he laid himself down and drank and drank and drank, until he drank so much that he burst with a great noise, and there was an end of him !
The king was so pleased with the Sword of Light that it seemed as though he could not look at it and talk about it enough. As for Peterkin, he got the princess for his wife, and that pleased him also, you may be sure. The princess was pleased too, for Peterkin was a good, smart, tight bit of a lad, and that is what the girls like. So it was that everybody was pleased except the two elder brothers, who looked as sour as green gooseberries. But now Peterkin was an apple that hung too high for them to reach, and so they had to let him alone.
The next day after the wedding, whom should Peterkin come across but the Little Grey Hare.
" See, Peterkin," it said, " I have done much for you ; will you do a little for me ?"
" Yes, indeed, that I will," said Peterkin.
" Then take the Sword of Light and cut off my head and feet," said the Little Grey Hare.
No, no; Peterkin could never do such a thing as that ; that would be a pretty way to treat a good friend.
But the Little Grey Hare begged and begged and begged, until at last Peterkin did as he asked ; he cut off his head and his feet. Then who should stand before him but a handsome young prince, with yellow hair and blue eyes. That was what the Little Grey Hare had been all the time, only the giant had bewitched him.
As for Peterkin—well, this is the way of it; the youngest will step ahead of the others sometimes.
ONCE upon a time there lived a king who had an only daughter, and the princess was more handsome than I can tell you. But the queen had been dead for so long that the king began to think about marrying a second time. So the upshot of the matter was that by and by there came a step-mother into the house, and a step-sister besides, for the new queen had a daughter of her own. And that was a sor< rowful thing for the princess.
At first the new queen was kind enough to the poor girl; but before long there were other cakes baking in that oven, for the step-mother began saying to herself: " See, now, if this hussy were out of the way my own dear girl would be the first in the land, and might, in time, have the kingdom for her very own." So, in the end, the poor princess found but little peace in the same house with the woman and her daughter.
One day the step-mother, the step-sister, and the pretty princess sat together in the castle garden beside a deep cistern of water. By the cis tern hung a silver cup for the use of those who wished to drink. And as they sat there the princess grew thirsty, and would have taken the cup to qrench her thirst, but the step-mother stopped her.
"See, now," said she, "if you must drink you will have to stoop to the water, for the silver cup is too good for such as you."
" Alas!" said the poor princess, " the time was when a cup of gold was not too good for me!" And thereupon she began to weep as though her heart would break. But there was no help for it; if she would drink she must stoop for it; so down she knelt and began to drink from the deep water without any thought or fear of harm.
But as the princess thus stooped and drank, the wicked step-mother came behind her without her knowing it, and gave her a push so that she fell headlong into the cistern and sank to the bottom. After that the step -mother and the step-sister went back to the castle again, rejoicing and thinking that now they were rid of the princess for good and all, and that the step - sister would be the first in all of the land.
But in this they counted black chicks before they were hatched; for when the princess sank down to the bottom of the cistern, she found herself in a great wide meadow, all covered over with bright flowers, as many as there are stars in the sky at night.
Across this meadow she went on and on and on ; but never a single soul did she see until at last she came to a great, fine house that stood all alone by itself, without another to be seen, near or afar. In the doorway of the house stood an old woman, whom the princess saw very plainly was not like common folk.
And she was right, for the old woman was none other than Mother Hildegarde, who is so wise that she knows almost as much as Father Time himself. Thus it was that she knew all about the princess, and who she was and whence she came, without the asking. " Listen," said she, " I will give you food and lodging, and will pay you well if you will serve me faith fully for the space of a year and a day."
That the princess was willing enough to do, for she was both tired and hungry; so into the house she went to serve Mother Hildegarde for a year and a day.
But it was no common work that the princess did, I can tell you ; for listen: When she blew the bellows that the fire might blaze the brighter, the wind swept over the great brown world so that every windmill turned around and around from Jacob Pfennigdrummel's to the shores of the great black sea at the north end of the earth ; and when she sprinkled the clothes, the blessed rain came tumbling down till all the gutters ran with water so
that little folk had either to stay home from school or to go thither under great, wide umbrellas.
But of all this the pretty princess knew nothing whatever, but only thought that she blew the fire and sprinkled the clothes. And that is often the way of the world — at least, so Tommy Pfouce tells me.
Well, one day Mother Hildegarde said to the princess: "See, now; I am going off on a journey, and it may be a while before I am back again. Here are the keys of all of the house, and you are free to go wherever you choose. Only here is a black key that unlocks a little room into which you must not go ; for if you do I will be sure to know it, and ill-luck will be certain to happen to you." Then off she went, and the princess was left all alone.
The first day the lass went here, and the second day she went there, and the third day she had gone everywhere except into the little room where Mother Hildegarde had told her not to go; and she never wanted anything in all of her life as much as she wanted just to peep into that lit tle room.
" I wonder," said she to herself—" I wonder what harm there could be in it if I were only to take one little peep?" So the upshot of the matter was that she went there just to look at the outside of the door.
" I wonder," said she, " if the key will fit the lock?"
Yes; it did fit it.
" I wonder," said she, " if the key will turn the bolt?"
Yes; it did turn it.
" I wonder," said she, " whether it would do any harm just to peep into the room?"
And she did peep into it.
Believe me or not, all the same I tell you the truth when I say that there was not one thing in the room but a covered jar, that stood in the middle of the floor. Of course the princess must have just one peep into the jar, for as she had gone as far as she had, there could be no more harm in this than in the other. So she went to the jar and took off the lid and peeped into it.
And what do you think was in it? Nothing but water!
But as the princess looked into the water she saw Mother Hildegarde as though she were a great way off, and the Mother Hildegarde whom she saw in the water was looking at nobody in all of the world but her. As soon as the princess saw what she saw, she clapped down the lid of the jar
again; but she clapped it down just a moment too late, for a lock of hair fell down over her face, and one single hair touched the water in the jar.
Yes; only one single hair. But when the princess looked she saw that every lock upon her head was turned to pure gold. Then if anybody in all of the world was frightened it was the poor princess. She twisted up the hair upon the top of her head and bound her kerchief about it so that it was all hidden ; but all the same the hair was there, and could never be changed from the gold again.
Just then who should come walking into the house but Mother Hilde-garde herself. " Have you obeyed all that I have told you ?" said she.
" Yes," said the princess, but all the same she was so frightened that her knees knocked together.
" Did you go into the little room?" said Mother Hildegarde.
" No," said the princess; but her heart beat so that she could hardly speak.
Then Mother Hildegarde snatched the kerchief off of the princess's head, and her golden hair came tumbling down all about her shoulders, glittering, so that it was the finest sight that you could see between here and Nomansland.
"Then how came your hair to be like that?" said Mother Hildegarde.
" I do not know," said the princess; and then she began crying and sob bing as though her heart .would break.
" See now," said Mother Hildegarde ; " you have served me well for all of the time that you have been with me, therefore I will have pity upon you, only you must tell me the truth. Did you go into the little room while was away ?"
But for all that Mother Hildegarde spoke ever so kindly the princes could not bring herself to speak the truth.
"No," said she.
"Then how came your hair to be like that?'' said Mother Hildegarde.
" I do not know," said the princess.
At this Mother Hildegarde frowned till her eyes burned like sparks ol fire. She caught the princess by the arm and struck her staff upon th( ground, and away they flew through the air till the wind whistled behin< them. So by and by they came to a great forest, out of which there was n< path to be found either to the east or the west or the north or the south.
" See now," said Mother Hildegarde, " because you have been faithful ii your labor with me I will give you still another chance. But if you do not
But still the princess hardened her heart and answered " No."
" Then how came your hair to be like that?" said Mother Hildegarde.
" I do not know," said the princess.
Then Mother Hildegarde went away, and left the princess alone in the forest as she had promised to do ; and not only that, but she took away the princess's speech, so that she was quite dumb. So in the forest the princess dwelt for a long, long time, and there she would have died of hunger, only that Mother Hildegarde still cared for her and sent the wood-pigeons to feed her, which they did from day to day and from week to week and from month to month. As for the princess, she lived in the branches of the trees, for she was afraid of the wild beasts that roamed through the wood.
By and by her clothes became nothing but rags and tatters, and then she had to weave her beautiful hair about her, so that she was clad all from head to foot in her golden tresses, and in them alone.
Well, one time it happened that a young king came riding into the forest to hunt the wild boars, and many of his people came along with him. Some of those who rode on before came suddenly to where a great flock of wood-pigeons flew about in the tree-tops above them. But when they looked up, you may guess how wonder-struck they were when they saw that the pigeons were feeding a beautiful maiden who sat in the branches above, clad all in her golden hair. Back they rode to the young king and told him all that they had seen, and up he came as fast as he could ride. There he saw the maiden and how beautiful she was, and he called to her ,to come down. But she only shook her head, for she could not speak, and she was ashamed of being found where she was. Then the young king, seeing that she would not come down from the branches to him, climbed up himself and brought her.
He wrapped his cloak about her and set her on his horse in front of him, and then he and all that were with him rode away out of the dark forest and under the blue sky, until they had come to the king's castle. But all the time the princess did nothing but weep and weep, for she could not speak a single word. The young king gave her to his mother to care for, who was none too glad to have such a dumb maiden brought into the house, even though the lass was as pretty as milk and rose-leaves.
But the young king cared nothing whatever for what his mother thought
about the matter, for the more he looked at the princess, the more beautiful she appeared in his eyes. So the end of the matter was that he married her, even though she had not a word to say for herself.
Well, time went on and on, till one day the storks that lived on the castle roof brought a baby boy to the poor dumb princess, whereat every body was as glad as glad could be.
But their gladness was soon changed to sadness, for that night, when every one in the king's house was fast and sound asleep, Mother Hilde-garde came softly into the princess's room. She gave her back her speech for the time being, and then she said. " I will still have pity upon you. If you will only tell me the truth you shall have your speech again, and all will go well with you. But if you tell me a falsehood once,more, still greater troubles will come upon you. Now tell me, did you go into the little room ?"
" No," said the princess, for still she could not bring herself to confess to Mother Hildegarde.
" Then how came your hair to be like that ?"
" I do not know," said the princess.
So Mother Hildegarde took away her speech once more.
After that she smeared the mouth of the princess with blood, and then, wrapping the baby in her mantle, she carried it away with her, leaving the mother weeping alone.
You can guess what a hubbub there was the next morning in the castle, when they came and found that the baby was gone, and that the princess's mouth was smeared with blood. " See," said the king's mother, " what did I tell you from the very first. Do you not see that you have brought a wicked witch into the house, and that she has killed her own child ?"
But the king would listen to no such words as these, for it seemed to him that the princess was too beautiful and too good to do such a wicked thing.
After a time there came another baby to the princess, and once more Mother Hildegarde came to her and said, " Did you go into the little room ?"
" No," said the princess.
" Then how came your hair to be like that ?"
" I do not know," said the princess.
So Mother Hildegarde took this baby away as she had done the other, and left the princess with her lips smeared with blood.
And now every one of the king's household began to mutter and to whisper to his neighbor, and the king had nothing to say, but only left the room silently, for his heart was like heavy lead within his breast. Still he would not hear of harm coming to the princess, no matter what had happened.
In time there came a third baby, but still the princess could not soften her heart, and Mother Hildegarde took it away as she had done the others. This time the king could do nothing to save the princess, for every one cried out upon her that she was a wicked witch who killed her children, and that she should be burned at the stake, as was fitting for such a one. So a great pile of fagots was built out in the castle courtyard, and the princess was brought out and tied to a stake that stood in the midst. Then they lit the pile of fagots, and it began to crackle and burn around her where she stood.
Then suddenly Mother Hildegarde stood beside her in the midst of the fire. In her arms she held the princess's youngest baby, and the others stood, one upon one side and the other upon the other, and held on to her skirts.
She gave the princess her speech again, and then she said, " Now, tell me, did you go into the little room ?"
Even yet the princess would have answered " No;" but when she saw her children standing in the midst of the fire with her, her heart melted away within her.
" Yes!" she cried, " I went in and I saw."
" And how came your hair to be like that?" said Mother Hildegarde.
" Alas!" said the princess, " I gazed upon that which I should not have gazed upon, and looked into that which I should not have looked into, and one hair touched the water and all was turned to gold."
Then Mother Hildegarde smiled till her face shone as white as the moon. " The truth is better late than not at all," said she: " and if you had but spoken in the first place, I would have freely forgiven you." As she spoke a shower of rain fell down from the sky, and the fire of the fagots was quenched.
And now you can guess what joy there was in the king's castle when every one knew all that had happened, and it was seen how the right thing had come about at last, though it was the toss of a farthing betwixt this and that. Even the king's mother was glad enough when she came to know that it was a real princess whom her son had married after all.
And now listen to what happened in the end.
They gave a great feast, and everybody was asked to come from far and near. Then who should come travelling along with the others, as grand as you please, but the wicked step-mother and step-sister of the princess.
Dear, dear, how they stared and goggled when they saw who the young queen really was, and that the poor princess had married the richest and greatest king in all of the land!
Their hearts were so filled with envy that they swelled and swelled until they burst within them, and they fell down dead, and there was an end of them.
Thus it is that everything turns out right in the long run—that is in fairy tales.
But, after all, if the princess had only told the truth in the first place, she would never have gotten in all this peck of trouble.
And then who knows what Mother Hildegarde would have done for her, for she is a strange woman, is Mother Hildegarde.
THERE was a rich man who lived on a hill, and a poor man who lived down in the valley, and they were brothers, the one was older and the other younger. The one lived in a grand house and the other in a little, rickety, tumbledown hut, and the one was covetous and greedy and the other was kind and merciful. All the same, it was a merry life that the poor brother led of it, for each morning when he took
a drink he said, " Thank Heaven for clear water;" and when the day was bright he said, " Thank Heaven for the warm sun that shines on us all;" and when it was wet it was, " Thank Heaven for the gentle rain that makes the green grass grow."
One day the poor brother was riding in the forest, and there he met the rich brother, and they jogged along the way together. The one rode upon a poor, old, spavined, white horse, and the other rode upon a fine, prancing steed.
By and by they met an old woman, and it was all that she could do to hobble along the way she was going.
" Dear, good, kind gentlemen," said she, " do help a poor old body with a penny or two, for it is nothing I have in the world, and life sits heavy on old shoulders."
The rich brother was for passing along as though he heard never a word
of what she said, but the poor brother had a soft heart, and reined in his horse.
" It is only three farthings that I have in the world," said he ; " but such as they are you are welcome to them," and he emptied his purse into her hand.
" You shall not have the worst of the bargain," said the old woman; "here is something that is worth the having," and she gave him a little black stone about as big as a bean. Then off she went with what he had given her.
" See, now," said the rich brother, " that is why you are so poor as hardly to be able to make both ends meet in the world."
"That may be so, or may not be so," said the poor brother; "all the same, mercy is better than greed."
How the elder did laugh at this, to be sure ! " Why, look," says he, " here I am riding upon a grand horse with my pockets full of gold and silver money, and there you are astride of a beast that can hardly hobble along the road, and with never a copper bit in your pocket to jingle against another."
Yes ; that was all true enough ; nevertheless, the younger brother stuck to it that mercy was better than greed, until, at last, the other flew into a mighty huff.
" Very well," says he, " I will wager my horse against yours that I am right, and we will leave it to the first body we meet to settle the point."
Well, that suited the poor brother, and he was agreed to do as the other said.
So by and by they met a grand lord riding along the road with six servants behind him ; and would he tell whether mercy or greed were the best for a body in this world ?
The rich lord laughed and laughed. " Why," said he, " greed is the best, for if it were otherwise, and I had only what belonged to me, I should never be jogging along through the world with six servants behind me."
So off he rode, and the poor brother had to give up his horse to the other, who had no more use for it than I have for five more fingers. " All the same," says the poor brother, " mercy is better than greed." Goodness! what a rage the rich brother fell into, to be sure! " There is no teaching a simpleton," said he; " nevertheless, I will wager all the money in my purse against your left eye that greed is better than mercy, and we will leave it to the next body we meet, since you are not content with the other,"
That suited the younger brother well enough, and on they jogged until they met a rich merchant driving a donkey loaded with things to sell. And would he judge between them whether mercy or greed were the best for a body?
" Poof !" says the merchant, " what a question to ask! All the world knows that greed is the best. If it were not for taking the cool end of the bargain myself, and leaving the hot end for my neighbor to hold, it is little or nothing that I should have in the world to call my own." And off he went whither he was going.
" There," says the rich brother, " now perhaps you will be satisfied;" and he put out the poor man's left eye.
But no, the other still held that mercy was better than greed; and so they made another wager of all the rich man had in the world against the poor man's right eye.
This time it was a poor ploughman whom they met, and would he tell whether mercy or greed were the best ?
" Prut!" said he, " any simpleton can tell that greed is the best, for all the world rides on the poor man's shoulders, and he is able to bear the burden the least of all."
Then the rich man put out the poor man's right eye; " for," says he," a body deserves to be blind who cannot see the truth when it is as plain as a pikestaff."
But still the poor man stuck to it that mercy was the best. So the rich man rode away and left him in his blindness.
As all was darkness to his eyes, he sat down beside the road at the first place he could find, and that was underneath the gallows where three wicked robbers had been hung. While he sat there two ravens came flying, and lit on the gallows above him. They began talking to one another, and the younger brother heard what they said, for he could understand the speech of the birds of the air and of the beasts of the field, just as little children can, because he was innocent.
And the first raven said to the second raven, " Yonder, below, sits a fellow in blindness, because he held that mercy was better than greed."
And the second raven said to the first, " Yes, that is so, but he might have his sight again if he only knew enough to spread his handkerchief upon the grass, and bathe his eyes in the dew which falls upon it from the gallows above."
And the first raven said to the second, " That is as true as that one and
one make two; but there is more to tell yet, for in his pocket he carries a little black stone with which he may open every door that he touches. Back of the oak-tree yonder is a little door ; if he would but enter thereat he would find something below well worth the having."
That was what the two ravens said, and then they flapped their wings and flew away.
As for the younger brother, you can guess how his heart danced at what he heard. He spread his handkerchief on the grass, and by and by, 14
when night came, the dew fell upon it until it was as wet as clothes on the line. He wiped his eyes with it, and when the dew touched the lids they were cured, and he could see as well and better than ever.
By and by the day broke, and he lost no time in finding the door back of the oak-tree. He touched the lock with the little black stone, and the door opened as smoothly as though the hinges were greased. There he found a flight of steps that led down into a pit as dark as a beer vault. Down the steps he went, and on and on until, at last, he came to a great room, the like of which his eyes had never seen before. In the centre of the room was a statue as black as ink; in one hand it held a crystal globe which shone with a clear white light, so that it dazzled one's eyes to look upon it; in the other hand it held a great diamond as big as a hen's egg, Upon the breast of the statue were written these words in letters of gold:
"WHAT THOU DESERVEST THAT THOU SHALT HAVE."
On three sides of the room sat three statues, and at the feet of each statue stood a heavy chest :
The first statue was of gold, and over its head were written these words :
"WHO CHOOSES HERE TAKES THE BEST THAT THE EARTH HAS TO GIVE."
The second statue was of silver, and over its head was written these words :
"WHO CHOOSES HERE TAKES WHAT THE RICH MAN LOVES."
The third statue was of dull lead, and over its head was written :
"WHO CHOOSES HERE TAKES WHAT HE SHOULD HAVE."
The man touched the chest at the feet of the golden statue with the little black stone. And — click ! clack ! — up flew the lid, and the chest was full of all kinds of precious stones.
" Pugh !" says the younger brother; " and if this is the best that the world has to give, it is poor enough." And he shut down the lid again.
He touched the chest at the feet of the silver statue with his little black stone, and it was full of gold and silver money.
" Pish !" says he; " and if this is what the rich man loves, why, so do not I." And he shut down the lid again.
Last of all he touched the chest at the feet of the leaden statue.
In it was a book, and the letters on it said that whoever read within would know all that was worth the knowing. Beside the book was a pair of spectacles, and whoever set them astride of his nose might see the truth without having to rub the glasses with his pocket-handkerchief. But the best of all in the chest was an apple, and whoever ate of it would be cured of sorrow and sickness.
" Hi !" said the younger brother, " but these are worth the having, for sure and certain." And he put the spectacles upon his nose and the apple and the book in his pocket. Then off he went, and the spectacles showed him the way, although it was as crooked as sin and as black as night.
So by and by he came out into the blessed sunlight again, and at the same place where he had gone in.
Off he went to his own home as fast as his legs could carry him, and you can guess how the rich brother stared when he saw the poor brother back in that town again, with his eyesight as good as ever.
As for the poor brother, he just turned his hand to being a doctor; and there has never been one like him since that day, for not only could he cure all sickness with his apple, but he could cure all sorrow as well. Money and fame poured in on him ; and whenever trouble lit on his shoulders he just put on his spectacles and looked into the business, and then opened the book of wisdom and found how to cure it. So his life was as happy as the day was long; and a body can ask for no more than that in this world here below.
One day the rich brother came and knocked at the other's door. " Well, brother," says he, " I am glad to see you getting along so well in the world. Let us let bygones be bygones and live together as we should, for I am sorry for what I did to you."
Well, that suited the younger brother well enough ; he bore no malice against the other, for all that had been done had turned out for the best. All the same, he was more sure than ever now that mercy was better than greed.
The elder brother twisted up his face at this, as though the words were sour; all the same, he did not argue the question, for what he had come for was to find why the world had grown so easy with the other all of a sudden. So in he came, and they lit their pipes and sat down by the stove together.
He was a keen blade, was the elder brother, and it was not long before he had screwed the whole story out of the other.
" Dear, dear, dear!" said he, " I only wish I could find a black pebble like that one of yours."
" It would do you no good if you had it," said the younger brother, " for I have brought away all that is worth the having. All the same, if you want my black pebble now you are welcome to it."
Did the elder brother want it ! Why, of course he wanted it, and he could not find words enough to thank the younger.
Off he went, hot-foot, to find the door back of the oak-tree; " For," said he to himself, " I will bring something back better worth the having than a musty book, an old pair of spectacles, and a red apple."
He touched the door with the black stone, and it opened for him just as it had for the younger brother.
Down the steps he went, and on and on and on, until by and by he came to the room where the statues were. There was the black statue holding out the crystal ball and the diamond as big as a hen's egg, and there sat the golden statue and the silver statue and the leaden statue, just as they had sat when the younger brother had been there, only there was nothing in the chest at the feet of the leaden statue.
The rich brother touched the lock of the chest in front of the silver statue. Up flew the lid, and there lay all the gold and silver money.
" Yes," says he, u that is what the rich man loves, sure enough. Never theless, there may be something else that is better worth the having." So he let the money lay where it was.
He touched the chest in front of the golden statue. Up flew the lid, and he had to blink and wink his eyes because the precious stones dazzled them so.
" Yes," says he, " this is the best the world has to give, and there is no gainsaying that; all the same, there may be something better worth the having than these."
So he looked all about the room, until he saw the golden letters on the breast of the black statue that stood in the middle. First he read the words :
" WHAT THOU DESERVEST THAT THOU SHALT HAVE."
And then he saw the great diamond that the statue held in its left hand.
" Why," said he, " it is as plain as daylight that I deserve this precious j
stone, for not being so simple as my brother, and taking what I could find without looking for anything better."
So up he stepped and took the diamond out of the statue's hand.
Crash ! — and all was darkness, darker than the darkest midnight; for, as quick as a wink, the black statue let the crystal globe of light fall from its right hand upon the stone floor, where it broke into ten thousand pieces.
And now the rich brother might wander up and wander down, but wander as he chose he could never find his way out of that place again, for the darkness shut him in like a blanket.
So, after all, mercy and temperance were better in the long run than greed and covetousness, in spite of what the great lord and the rich merchant and the poor ploughman had said.
Maybe I have got this story twisted awry in the telling; all the same, Tommy Pfouce says that it is a true-enough story, if you put on your spectacles and look at it from the right side.
THERE were three brothers left behind when the father died. The two elder, whose names were John and James, were as clever lads as ever ate pease with a fork.
As for the youngest, his name was Caspar, he had no more than enough sense to blow his potatoes when they were hot. Well, when they came to divide things up between themselves, John and James contrived to share all of the good things between them. As for Caspar, " why, the little black hen is enough for him," says John and James, and that was all the butter he got from that churn.
" I'll take the little black hen to the fair," says Caspar, " and there I'll sell her and buy me some eggs. I'll set the eggs under the minister's speckled hen, and then I'll have more chicks. Then I'll buy me more eggs and have more chicks, and then I'll buy me more eggs and have more chicks, and after that I'll be richer than Uncle Henry, who has two cows and a horse, and will marry my sweetheart into the bargain." So off he went to the fair with the black hen under his arm, as he had promised himself to do.
" There goes a goose to the plucking," says John and James, and then they turned no hairs grey by thinking any more about the case.
As for him, why, he went on and on until he came to the inn over the hill not far from the town, the host of which was no better than he should be, and that was the long and the short of it.
"Where do you go with the little black hen, Caspar?" says he.
"Oh," says Caspar, "I take it to the fair to sell it and buy me some e gg s - I'll set the e gg s under the minister's speckled hen, and then I'll have more chicks. Then I'll buy me more eggs and have more chicks, and then I'll buy me more eggs and have more chicks, and after that I'll be richer than Uncle Henry, who has two cows and a horse, and will marry my sweetheart into the bargain."
Prut! And why should Caspar take his hen to the fair? That was what the landlord said. It was a silly thing to tramp to the river for water before the well was dry at home. Why, the landlord had a friend over yonder who would give ten pennies to one that he could get at the fair for his black hen. Now, had Caspar ever heard tell of the little old gentleman who lived in the old willow-tree over yonder?
No, Caspar had never heard tell of him in all of his life. And there was no wonder in that, for no more had anybody else, and the landlord was only up to a bit of a trick to get the little black hen for himself.
But the landlord sucked in his lips—" tsch "—so ! Well, that was a pity, for the little old gentleman had said, time and time again, that he would give a whole bagful of gold and silver money for just such a little black hen as the one that Caspar carried under his arm.
Dear, dear! How Caspar's eyes did open at this, to be sure. Off he started for the willow-tree. " Here's the little black hen," said he, " and I'll sell her for a bagful of gold and silver money." But nobody answered him; and you may be sure of that, for there was nobody there.
" Well," says Caspar, " I'll just tie the hen to the tree here, and you may pay me to-morrow." So he did as he had said, and off he marched. Then came the landlord and took the hen off home and had it for his supper; and there was an end of that business.
An end of that business? No, no; stop a bit, for we will not drive too fast down the hill. Listen : there was a wicked robber who had hidden a bag of gold and silver money in that very tree ; but of that neither Caspar nor the landlord knew any more than the chick in the shell.
" Hi!" says Caspar, " it is the wise man who gets along in the world." But there he was wrong for once in his life, Tommy Pfouce tells me.
"And did you sell your hen?" says John and James.
" Oh, yes; Caspar had done that.
And what had he got for it?
Oh, just a bag of gold and silver money, that was all. He would show
it to them to-morrow, for he was to go and get it then from the old gentleman who lived in the willow-tree over yonder by the inn over the hill.
When John and James heard that they saw as plain as the nose on your face that Caspar had been bitten by the fool dog.
But Caspar never bothered his head about that; off he went the next day as grand as you please. Up he marched to the willow-tree, but never a soul did he find there ; for why, there was nobody.
Rap! tap! tap! He knocked upon the tree as civil as a beggar at the kitchen door, but nobody said, " Come in!"
" Look," says he, " we will have no dilly-dallying; I want my money and I will have it," and he fetched a kick at the tree that made the bark fly. But he might as well have kicked my grandfather's bedpost for ah 1 the good he had of it. " Oh, very well!" says he, and off he marched and brought the axe that stood back of the stable door.
Hui! how the chips flew! for Caspar was bound to get to the bottom of the business. So by and by the tree lay on the ground, and there was the bag of gold and silver money that the wicked robber had hidden. " So !" says Caspar, " better late than never !" and off he marched with it.
By and by whom should he meet but John and James. Bless me, how they stared! And did Caspar get all of that money for one little black hen?
Oh, yes; that he had.
And where did he get it ?
Oh ! the little old man in the willow-tree had paid it to him.
So, good ! that was a fine thing, and it should be share and share alike among brothers; that was what John and James said, and Caspar did not say " No;" so down they all sat on the grass and began counting it out.
" This is mine," said John.
" And this is mine," said James.
" And this is mine," said John.
" And this is mine," said James.
u And where is mine?" says Caspar. But neither of the others thought of him because he was so simple.
Just then who should come along but the rogue of a landlord. " Hi! and where did you get all that?" says he.
" Oh," says Caspar, " the little old man in the willow-tree paid it to me for my little black hen."
Yes, yes, the landlord knew how much of that cake to eat. He was not to have the wool pulled over his eyes so easily. See, now, he knew very well that thieving had been done, and he would have them all up before the master mayor for it. So the upshot of the matter was that they had to take him in to share with them.
" This is mine," says the landlord.
" And this is mine," says John.
" And this is mine," says James.
" And where do I come in ?" says poor Caspar. But nobody thought of him because he was so simple.
Just then came along a company of soldiers—tramp ! tramp ! tramp !— and there they found them all sharing the money between them, except Caspar.
" Hi!" says the captain, " here are a lot of thieves, and no mistake!" and off he marched them to the king's house, which was finer than any in our town, and as big as a church into the bargain.
And how had they come by all that money? that was what the king would like to know.
As for the three rogues, they sang a different tune now than they had whistled before.
" It's none of mine, it's his," said the landlord, and he pointed to John.
" It's none of mine, it's his," said John, and he pointed to James.
" It's none of mine, it's his," said James, and he pointed to Caspar.
" And how did you get it ?" says the king.
" Oh!" says Caspar, " the little old man in the willow-tree gave it to me for my little black hen;" and then he told the whole story without missing a single grain.
Beside the king sat the princess, who was so serious and solemn that she had never laughed once in all her life. So the king had said, time and time again, that whoever should make her laugh should have her for his wife. Now, when she heard Caspar's story, and how he came in behind all the rest, so that he always had the pinching, like the tail of our cat in the crack of the door, she laughed like everything, for she could not help it. So there was the fat in the fire, for Caspar was not much to look at, and that was the truth. Dear, dear, what a stew the king was in, for he had no notion for Caspar as a son-in-law. So he began to think about striking a bargain. " Come," says he to Caspar, " how much will you take to give up the princess instead of marrying her ?"
Well, Caspar did not know how much a princess was worth. So he scratched his head and scratched his head, and by and by he said that he would be willing to take ten dollars and let the princess go.
At this the king boiled over into a mighty fume, like water into the fire. What ! did Caspar think that ten dollars was a fit price for a princess !
Oh, Caspar had never done any business of this kind before. He had a sweetheart of his own at home, and if ten dollars was too much for the princess he would be willing to take five.
Sakes alive ! what a rage the king was in ! Why, I would not have
stood in Caspar's shoes just then —no, not for a hundred dollars. The king would have had him whipped right away, only just then he had some other business on hand. So he paid Caspar his five dollars, and told him that if he would come back the next day he should have all that his back could carry —meaning a whipping.
As for Caspar and his brothers and the rogue of a landlord, they thought that the king was talking about dollars. So when they had left the king's house and had come out into the road again, the three rogues began to talk as smooth and as soft as though their words were buttered.
See, now, what did Caspar want with all that the king had promised him ; that was what they said. If he would let them have it, they would give him all of their share of the money he had found in the willow-tree.
" Ah, yes," says Caspar, " I am willing to do that. For," says he to 15
himself, " an apple in the pocket is worth three on the tree." And there he was right for once in his life.
Well, the next day back they all tramped to the king's house again to get what had been promised to Caspar.
So ! Caspar had come back for the rest, had he ?
Oh, yes, he had come back again ; but the lord king must know that he had sold all that had been promised to him to these three lads for their share of the money he had found in the willow-tree over yonder.
" Yes," says the landlord, "one part of what has been promised is mine."
"And one part of it is mine," says John.
" Stop a bit, brother," says James; " remember, one part of it is mine too."
At this the king could not help laughing, and that broke the back of his anger.
First of all he sent the landlord for his share, and if his back did not smart after he had it, why, it was not the fault of those who gave it to him. By and by he came back again, but he said nothing to the others of what had been given to him ; but all the same he grinned as though he had been eating sour gooseberries. Then John went, and last of all James, and what they got satisfied them, I can tell you.
After that the king told Caspar that he might go into the other room and fill his pockets with money for what he had given up to the others; so he had the cool end of that bargain, and did not burn his fingers after all.
But the three rogues were not satisfied with this. No, indeed! Caspar should have his share of the smarting, see if he shouldn't! So back they went to the king's house one fine day, and said that Caspar had been talking about the lord king, and had said that he was no better than an old hunks. At this the king was awfully angry. And so off he sent the others to fetch Caspar along so that he might settle the score with him.
When the three came home, there was Caspar lying on a bench in the sun, for he could take the world easy now, because he was so rich.
" Come along, Caspar," said they, " the king wants to see you over at his house yonder."
Yes, yes, but there was too much hurrying in this business, for it was over-quick cooking that burned the broth. If Caspar was to go to the king's house he would go in fitting style, so they would just have to wait till he found a horse, for he was not going to jog it afoot; that was what Caspar said.
Yes," says the landlord, " but sooner than you should lose time in the waiting, I will lend you my fine dapple-grey."
But where was the bridle to come from ? Caspar would have them know that he was not going to ride a horse to the king's house without a good bridle over the nag's ears.
Oh, John would lend him the new bridle that he bought in the town last week; so that was soon settled.
But how about the saddle ?—that was what Caspar wanted to know— yes, how about the saddle ? Did they think that he was going to ride up to the king's house with his heels thumping against the horse's ribs as though he were no better than a ploughman ?
Oh, James would lend him a saddle if that was all he wanted.
So off they went, all four of them, to the king's house.
There was the king, walking up and down, and fussing and fuming with anger till he was all of a heat.
" See, now," says he, as soon as he saw Caspar, " what did you call me an old hunks for?"
" I didn't call you an old hunks," said Caspar.
" Yes, you did," said the king.
" No, I didn't," said Caspar.
" Yes, you did," said the king, " for these three lads told me so."
"Prut!" said Caspar, " who would believe what they say? Why, they would just as lief tell you that this horse and saddle and bridle belong to them."
" And so they do!" bawled the three rogues.
" See there, now," said Caspar.
The king scratched his head, for here was a tangled knot, for certain. " Yes, yes," said he, " these fellows are fooling either Caspar or me, and we are both in the same tub, for the matter of that. Take them away and whip them !" So it was done as he said, and that was all that they got for their trouble.
Wit and Luck are not always hatched in the same nest, says Tommy Pfouce, and maybe he is right about it, for Caspar married his sweetheart, and if she did not keep his money for him, and himself out of trouble, she would not have been worth speaking of, and I, for one, would never have told this story.
ONCE there was a king who had a pear-tree which bore four-and-twenty golden pears. Every day he went into the garden and counted them to see that none were missing.
But, one morning, he found that a pear had been taken during the night, and thereat he was troubled and vexed to the heart, for the pear-tree was as dear to him as the apple of his eye. Now, the king had three sons, and so he called the eldest prince to him.
" See," said he, " if you will watch my pear-tree to-night, and will find me the thief who stole the pear, you shall have half of my kingdom now, and the whole of it when I am gone."
You can guess how the prince was tickled at this : oh, yes, he would watch the tree, and if the thief should come he should not get away again as easily.
Well, that night he sat down beside the tree, with his gun across his knees, to wait for the coming of the thief.
He waited and waited, and still he saw not so much as a thread or a hair. But about the middle of the night there came the very prettiest music that his ears had ever heard, and before he knew what he was about he was asleep and snoring until the little leaves shook upon the tree.
When the morning came and he awoke, another pear was gone, and he could tell no more about it than the man in the moon.
The next night the second son set out to watch the pear-tree. But he fared no better than the first. About midnight came the music, and in a little while he was snoring till the stones rattled. When the morning came another pear was gone, and he had no more to tell about it than his brother.
The third night it was the turn of the youngest son, and he was more clever than the others, for, when the evening came, he stuffed his ears full of wax, so that he was as deaf as a post. About midnight, when the music came, he heard nothing of it, and so he stayed wide awake. After the music had ended he took the wax out of his ears, so that he might listen for the coming of the thief. Presently there was a loud clapping and rattling, and a white swan flew overhead and lit in the pear-tree above him. It began picking at one of the pears, and then the prince raised his gun to shoot at it. But when he looked along the barrel it was not a swan that he saw up in the pear-tree, but the prettiest girl that he had ever looked upon.
" Don't shoot me, king's son ! Don't shoot me!" cried she.
But the prince had no thought of shooting her, for he had never seen such a beautiful maiden in all of his days. " Very well," said he, " I will not shoot, but, if I spare your life, will you promise to be my sweetheart and to marry me ?"
" That may be as may be," said the Swan Maiden. " For listen ! I serve the witch with three eyes. She lives on the glass hill that lies beyond the seven high mountains, the seven deep valleys, and the seven wide rivers; are you man enough to go that far?"
" Oh, yes," said the prince, " I am man enough for that and more too."
" That is good," saicl the Swan Maiden, and thereupon she jumped down from the pear-tree to the earth. Then she became a swan again, and bade the king's son to mount upon her back at the roots of her wings. When he had done as she had told him, she sprang into the air and flew away, bearing him with her.
On flew the swan, and on and on, until, by and by, she said, " What do you see, king's son ?"
" I see the grey sky above me and the dark earth below me, but nothing else," said he.
After that they flew on and on again, until, at last, the Swan Maiden said, " What do you see now, king's son ?"
" I see the grey sky above me and the dark earth below me, but nothing else," said he.
So once more they flew on until the Swan Maiden said, for the third time, " And what do you see by now, king's son ?"
But this time the prince said, " I see the grey sky above me and the dark earth below me, and over yonder is a glass hill, and on the hill is a house that shines like fire."
" That is where the witch with three eyes lives," said the Swan Maiden ; " and now listen: when she asks you what it is that you came for, ask her to give you the one who draws the water and builds the fire; for that is myself."
So, when they had come to the top of the hill of glass, the king's son stepped down to the ground, and the swan flew over the roof.
Rap! tap ! tap! he knocked at the door, and the old witch herself came and opened it.
" And what do you want here ?" said she.
" I want the one who draws the water and builds the fire," said the prince.
At this the old witch scowled until her eyebrows met.
"Very well," said she, "you shall have what you want if you can clean my stables to-mo'rrow between the rise and the set of the sun. But I tell you plainly, if you fail in the doing, you shall be torn to pieces body and bones."
But the prince was not to be scared away with empty words. So the next morning the old witch came and took him to the stables where he was to do his task. There stood more than a hundred cattle, and the stable had not been cleaned for at least ten long years.
" There is your work," said the old witch, and then she left him.
Well, the king's son set to work with fork and broom and might and main, but — prut! — he might as well have tried to bale out the great ocean with a bucket.
At noontide who should come to the stable but the pretty Swan Maiden herself.
" When one is tired, one should rest for a while," said she ; " come and lay your head in my lap."
The prince was glad enough to do as she said, for nothing was to be gained by working at that task. So he laid his head in her lap, and she combed his hair with a golden comb till he fell fast asleep. When he awoke the Swan Maiden was gone, the sun was setting, and the stable was as clean as a plate. Presently he heard the old witch coming, so up he
jumped and began clearing away a straw here and a speck there, just as though he were finishing the work.
" You never did this by yourself!" said the old witch, and her brows grew as black as a thunder-storm.
" That may be so, and that may not be so," said the king's son, " but you lent no hand to help; so now may I have the one who builds the fire and draws the water ?"
At this the old witch shook her head. " No," said she, " there is more to be done yet before you can have what you ask for. If you can thatch the roof of the stable with bird feathers, no two of which shall be of the same color, and can do it between the rise and the set of sun to-morrow, then you shall have your sweetheart and welcome. But if you fail your bones shall be ground as fine as malt in the mill."
Very well ; that suited the king's son well enough. So at sunrise he arose and went into the fields with his gun ; but if there were birds to be shot, it was few of them that he saw ; for at noontide he had but two, and they were both of a color. At that time who should come to him but the Swan Maiden.
" One should not tramp and tramp all day with never a bit of rest," said she; "come hither and lay your head in my lap for a while."
The prince did as she bade him, and the maiden again combed his hair with a golden comb until he fell asleep. When he awoke the sun was setting, and his work was done. He heard the old witch coming, so up he jumped to the roof of the stable and began laying a feather here and a feather there, for all the world as though he were just finishing his task.
" You never did that work alone," said the old witch.
" That may be so, and that may not be so," said the prince; " all the same, it was none of your doing. So now may I have the one who draws the water and builds the fire?"
But the witch shook her head. " No," said she, " there is still another task to do before that. Over yonder is a fir-tree; on the tree is a crow's nest, and in the nest are three eggs. If you can harry that nest to-morrow between the rising and the setting of the sun, neither breaking nor leaving a single egg, you shall have that for which you ask."
Very well ; that suited the prince. The next morning at the rising of the sun he started off to find the fir-tree, and there was no trouble in the finding I can tell you, for it was more than a hundred feet high, and as smooth as glass from root to tip. As for climbing it, he might as well have
tried to climb a moonbeam, for in spite of all his trying he did nothing but slip and slip. By and by came the Swan Maiden as she had come before.
" Do you climb the fir-tree ?" said she.
" None too well," said the king's son.
" Then I may help you in a hard task," said she.
She let down the braids of her golden hair, so that it hung down all about her and upon the ground, and then she began singing to the wind. She sang and sang, and by and by the wind began to blow, and, catching up the maiden's hair, carried it to the top of the fir-tree, and there tied it to the branches. Then the prince climbed the hair and so reached the nest. There were the three eggs; he gathered them, and then he came down as he had gone up. After that the wind came again and loosed the maiden's hair from the branches, and she bound it up as it was before.
" Now, listen," said she to the prince: " when the old witch asks you for the three crow's eggs which you have gathered, tell her that they belong to the one who found them. She will not be able to take them from you, and they are worth something, I can tell you."
At sunset the old witch came hobbling along, and there sat the prince at the foot of the fir-tree. " Have you gathered the crow's eggs ?" said she.
" Yes," said the prince, " here they are in my handkerchief. And now may I have the one who draws the water and builds the fire ?"
"Yes," said the old witch, "you may have her; only give me my crow's eggs."
" No," said the prince, " the crow's eggs are none of yours, for they belong to him who gathered them."
When the old witch found that she was not to get her crow's eggs in that way, she tried another, and began using words as sweet as honey. Come, come, there should be no hard feeling between them. The prince had served her faithfully, and before he went home with what he had come for he should have a good supper, for it is ill to travel on an empty stomach.
So she brought the prince into the house, and then she left him while she went to put the pot on the fire, and to sharpen the bread knife on the stone door-step.
While the prince sat waiting for the witch, there came a tap at the door, and whom should it be but the pretty Swan Maiden.
" Come," said she, u and bring the three eggs with you, for the knife
that the old witch is sharpening is for you, and so is the great pot on the fire, for she means to pick your bones in the morning."
She led the prince down into the kitchen; there they made a figure out of honey and barley-meal, so that it was all soft and sticky; then the maiden dressed the figure in her own clothes and set it in the chimney-corner by the fire.
After that was done, she became a swan again, and, taking the prince upon her back, she flew away, over hill and over dale.
As for the old witch, she sat on the stone door-step, sharpening her knife. By and by she came in, and, look as she might, there was no prince to be found.
Then if anybody was ever in a rage it was the old witch ; off she went,, storming and fuming, until she came to the kitchen. There sat the woman of honey and barley-meal beside the fire, dressed in the maiden's clothes,, and the old woman thought that it was the girl herself. " Where is your sweetheart ?" said she; but to this the woman of honey and barley-meal answered never a word.
-" How now! are you dumb?" cried the old witch; " I will see whether I cannot bring speech to your lips." She raised her hand— slap ! —she struck, and so hard was the blow that her hand stuck fast to the honey and barley-meal. "What!" cried she, "will you hold me?"— slap! —she struck with the other hand, and it too stuck fast. So there she was, and, for all that I know, she is sticking to the woman of honey and barley-meal to this day.
As for the Swan Maiden and the prince, they flew over the seven high mountains, the seven deep valleys, and the seven wide rivers, until they came near to the prince's home again. The Swan Maiden lit in a great wide field, and there she told the prince to break open one of the crow's eggs. The prince did as she bade him, and what should he find but the most beautiful little palace, all of pure gold and silver. He set the palace on the ground, and it grew and grew and grew until it covered as much ground as seven large barns. Then the Swan Maiden told him to breal another egg, and he-did as she said, and what should come out of it but such great herds of cows and sheep that they covered the meadow far ant near. The Swan Maiden told him to break the third egg, and out of it came scores and scores of servants all dressed in gold-and-silver livery.
That morning, when the king looked out of his bedroom window, there stood the splendid castle of silver and gold. Then he called all of his people together, and they rode over to see what it meant. On the way they met such herds of fat sheep and cattle that the king had never seen the like in all of his life before; and when he came to the fine castle, there were two rows of servants dressed in clothes of silver and gold, ready to meet him. But when he came to the door of the castle, there stood the prince himself. Then there was joy and rejoicing, you may be sure! only the two elder brothers looked down in the mouth, for since the young prince had found the thief who stole the golden pears, their father's king dom was not for them. But the prince soon set their minds at rest on that score, for he had enough and more than enough of his own.
After that the prince and the Swan Maiden were married, and a grand wedding they had of it, with music of fiddles and kettle-drums, and plenty to eat and to drink. I, too, was there ; but all of the good red wine ran down over my tucker, so that not a drop of it passed my lips, and I had to come away empty.
And that is all.
THERE were three nice, fat little pigs. The first was small, the second was smaller, and the third was the smallest of all. And these three little pigs thought of going out into the woods to gather acorns, for there were better acorns there than here.
" There's a great ogre who lives over yonder in the woods," says the barn-yard cock.
" And he will eat you up, body and bones," says the speckled hen.
" And there will be an end of you," says the black drake. " If folks only knew what was good for them, they would stay at home and make the best of what they had there," said the old grey goose who laid eggs under the barn, and who had never gone out into the world or had had a peep of it beyond the garden gate.
But no; the little pigs would go out into the world, whether or no; " for," said they, " if we stay at home because folks shake their heads, we will never get the best acorns that are to be had;" and there was more than one barleycorn of truth in that chaff, I can tell you. So out into the woods they went.
They hunted for acorns here and they hunted for acorns there, and by and by whom should the smallest of all the little pigs meet but the great, wicked ogre himself.
" Aha!" says the great, wicked ogre, " it is a nice, plump little pig that I have been wanting for my supper this many a day past. So you may just come along with me now."
" Oh, Master Ogre," squeaked the smallest of the little pigs in the smallest of voices—" oh, Master Ogre, don't eat me! There's a bigger pig back of me, and he will be along presently."
So the ogre let the smallest of the little pigs go, for he would rather have a larger pig if he could get it.
By and by came the second little pig. " Aha!" says the great, wicked ogre, " I have been wanting just such a little pig as you for my supper for this many a day past. So you may just come along with me now."
" Oh, Master Ogre," said the middle-sized pig, in his middle-sized voice, " don't take me for your supper; there's a bigger pig than I am coming along presently. Just wait for him."
Well, the ogre was satisfied to do that; so he waited, and by and by, sure enough, came the largest of the little pigs.
" And now," says the great, wicked ogre, " I will wait no longer, for you are just the pig I want for my supper, and so you may march along with me."
But the largest of the little pigs had his wits about him, I can tell you. " Oh, very well," says he; " if I am the shoe that fits there is no use in hunting for another; only, have you a roasted apple to put in my mouth when I am cooked? for no one ever heard of a little pig brought on the table without a roast apple in its mouth."
No; the ogre had no roasted apple.
Dear, dear! that w r as a great pity. If he would wait for a little while, the largest of the little pigs would run home and fetch one, and then things would be as they should.
Yes, the ogre was satisfied with that. So off ran the little pig, and the ogre sat down on a stone and waited for him.
Well, he waited and he waited and he waited and he waited, but not a tip of a hair of the little pig did he see that day, as you can guess without my telling you.
And Tommy Pfouce tells me that the great, wicked ogre is not the only one who has gone without either pig or roast apple, because when he could get the one he would not take it without the other.
" And now," says the cock and the speckled hen and the black drake and the old grey goose who laid her eggs under the barn, and had never
been out into the world beyond the garden-gate — " and now perhaps you will run out into the world and among ogres no more. Are there not good enough acorns at home?
Perhaps there were; but that was not what the three little pigs thought. " See, now," said the smallest of the three little pigs, " if one is afraid of the water, one will never catch any fish. I, for one, am going out into the woods to get a few acorns."
So out into the woods he went, and there he found all of the acorns that he wanted. But, on his way home, whom should he meet but the great, wicked ogre.
" Aha !" says the ogre, " and is that you ?"
Oh, yes, it was nobody else ; but had the ogre come across three fellows tramping about in the woods down yonder ?
No, the ogre had met nobody in the woods that day.
" Dear, dear," says the smallest little pig," but that is a pity, for those three fellows were three wicked robbers, and they have just hidden a meal-bag full of money in that hole up in the tree yonder."
You can guess how- the ogre pricked up his ears at this, and how he stared till his eyes were as big as saucers.
".Just wait," said he to the smallest little pig, " and I will be down again in a minute." So he laid his jacket to one side and up the tree he climbed, for he wanted to find that bag of money, and he meant to have it.
" Do you find the hole ?" says the smallest of the little pigs.
Yes; the ogre had found the hole.
"And do you find the money?" says the smallest of the little pigs.
No; the ogre could find no money.
" Then good-bye," says the smallest of the little pigs, and off he trotted home, leaving the ogre to climb down the tree again as he chose.
" And now, at least, you will go out into the woods no more," says the cock, the speckled hen, the black drake, and the grey goose.
Oh, well, there was no telling what the three little pigs would do yet, they would have to wait and see.
One day it was the middle-sized little pig who would go out into the woods, for he also had a mind to taste the acorns there.
So out into the woods the middle-sized little pig went, and there he had all the acorns that he wanted.
But by and by the ogre came along. " Aha!" says he. " Now I have you for sure and certain."
But the middle-sized little pig just stood and looked at a great rock just in front of him, with all of his might and main. " Sh-h-h-h-h-h!" says he, " I am not to be talked to or bothered now !"
Hoity-toity ! Here was a pretty song, to be sure ! And why was the middle-sized pig not to be talked to ? That was what the ogre should like to know.
Oh, the middle-sized little pig was looking at what was going on under the great rock yonder, for he could see the little folk brewing more beer than thirty-seven men could drink.
So ! Why, the ogre would like to see that for himself.
" Very well," says the middle-sized little pig, " there is nothing easier than to learn that trick! just take a handful of leaves from yonder bush and rub them over your eyes, and then shut them tight and count fifty."
Well, the ogre would have a try at that. So he gathered a handful of the leaves and rubbed them over his eyes, just as the middle-sized pig had said.
"And now are you ready?" said the middle-sized little pig.
Yes ; the ogre was ready.
" Then shut your eyes and count," said the middle-sized little pig.
So the ogre shut them as tightly as he could and began to count, " One, two, three, four, five," and so on ; and while he was counting, why, the little pig was running away home again.
By and by the ogre bawled out " Fifty ! ! " and opened his eyes, for he was done. Then he saw not more, but less, than he had seen before, for the little pig was not there.
And now it was the largest of the three little pigs who began to talk about going out into the woods to look for acorns.
" You had better stay at home and take things as they come. The crock that goes often to the well gets broken at last ;" that was what the cock, the speckled hen, the black drake, and the grey goose said ; and they thought themselves very wise to talk as they did.
But no ; the little pig wanted to go out into the woods, and into the woods the little pig would go, ogre or no ogre.
After he had eaten all of the acorns that he wanted he began to think of going home again, but just then the ogre came stumping along. " Aha!" says he, " we have met again, have we?"
" Yes," said the largest of the three little pigs, " we have. And I want
to say that I could find no roast apple at home, and so I did not come back again."
Yes, yes, that was all very fine; but they should have a settling of old scores now. The largest of the three little pigs might just come along home with the ogre, and to-morrow he should be made into sausages; for there was to be no trickery this time, so there was an end of the matter.
Come, come ! the ogre must not be too testy. There was such a thing as having too much pepper in the pudding — that was what the largest of the little pigs said. If it were sausages that the ogre was after, maybe the pig could help him. Over home at the farm yonder was a storehouse filled with more sausages and good things than two men could count. There was a window where the ogre could just squeeze through. Only
he must promise to eat what he wanted and to carry nothing away with him.
Well, the ogre promised to eat all he wanted in the storehouse, and then off they went together.
By and by they came to the storehouse at the farm, and there, sure enough, was a window, and it was just large enough for the ogre to squeeze through without a button to spare in the size.
Dear, dear! how the ogre did stuff himself with the sausages and puddings and other good things in the storehouse.
By and by the little pig bawled out as loud as he could, " Have you had enough yet ?"
" Hush-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh !" says the ogre, " don't talk so loud, or you'll be rousing the folks and having them about our ears like a hive of bees."
" No," bawled the little pig, louder than before, " but tell me, have you had enough yet ?"
" Yes, yes," says the ogre, " I have had almost enough, only be still .about it!"
" Very well!" bawled the little pig, as loud as he could, " if you have \ had enough, and if you have eaten all of the sausages and all of the pud dings you can stuff, it is about time that you were going, for here comes the farmer and two of his men to see what all the stir is about."
And, sure enough, the farmer and his men were coming as fast as they could lay foot to the ground.
But when the ogre heard them coming, he felt sure that it was time that he was getting away home again, and so he tried to get out of the same window that he had gotten in a little while before. But he had stuffed himself with so much of the good things that he had swelled like everything, and there he stuck in the storehouse window like a cork in a bottle, and could budge neither one way nor the other; and that was a pretty pickle to be in.
" Oho !" says the farmer, " you were after my sausages and my puddings, -were you ? Then you will come no more."
And that was so ; for when the farmer and his men were done with the •ogre he never went into the woods again, for he could not.
As for the three little pigs, they trotted away into the woods every day of their lives, for there was nobody nowadays to stop them from gathering .all the acorns that they wanted.
Now, don't you believe folks when they say that this is all stuff and nonsense that I have been telling you ; for if you turn it upside down and look in the bottom of it you will find that there is more than one grain of truth there ; that is if you care to scratch among the chaff for it. And that is the end of this story.
THE wind of heaven blows the chips and the straws to gether.
There was a fiddler, a tinker, and a shoemaker jogging along the road, but whatever ( brought them in company is more than I am able to tell you. All the same, there they were, and, after all, that is the kernel of the nut.
The fiddler was as merry a little toad as ever a
body could wish to see; as for the tinker and the shoemaker, why, they were as sour as bad beer.
Well, they plodded along, all three of them, until by and by they came to a cross - road, and there sat an old body begging; " Dear, good, kind gentlemen, give a poor old woman a penny or two. Do now."
" Pooh!" says the tinker and the shoemaker, and off they walked with their noses in the air as though they were hunting for flies up yonder.
As for the fiddler, he had another kind of a heart under his jacket; " Come," says he, " we are all chicks in the same puddle." So he gave the old woman all that he had, which was only two pennies.
"A cake for a pie," said the old woman ; "and what would you like to
have in the way of a wish ? for all that you have to do is to ask, and it shall be granted."
This old woman was a famous wise one, I can tell you, though the fiddler knew nothing of that.
The fiddler thought and thought, but there was little that he had to wish for; nevertheless, since they were in the way of asking and giving, and seeing that his body was none of the largest, he would like to have it for a wish that whenever he should say, *' Rub-a-dub-dub," the staff in his hand would up and fight for him.
So! and was that all that he wanted ? Then it was granted and welcome, for it was little enough.
After that they said, " Good-morning," and the fiddler went one way and the old woman the other.
So the three companions plodded along together until, by and by, night came, and there they were, in a deep forest, with branches over their heads and not a peep out from under the trees, no matter where they might look; and that was not the pleasantest thing for them, I can tell you. But by and by they saw a light, and then the world looked up with them again. So they hurried along more rapidly, and presently came to the house where the light was shining; and, after all, it was not much to look at.
Rap, tap, tap ! they knocked at the door, but nobody came; so they opened it for themselves and walked in.
No; there was no one at home, but there was a table spread with a smoking hot supper, and places for three. Down they sat without waiting for the bidding, for their hunger was as sharp as vinegar.
Well, they ate and they ate and they ate until they could eat no more, and then they turned around and roasted their toes at the warm fire.
That was all very well and good, but by and by all the wood was burned, and then who was to go out into the dark forest and fetch another armful?
" Not I," says the tinker.
" Not I," says the shoemaker.
And so it fell to the lot of the fiddler, and off he went.
But many a one spills the milk-mug to save the water-jug, and so it was with the tinker and the shoemaker; for, while they sat warming their shins at the fire and rubbing their hands over their knees, in walked an ugly little troll no taller than a yard-stick, but with a head as big as a
cabbage, and a good stout cudgel twice as long as himself in his hand ; as for his eyes, why, they were as big as your mother's teacups.
" I want something to eat," says he.
" You'll get nothing here," says the tinker and the shoemaker.
" Yes, but I will," says the little manikin.
" No, but you will not," says the tinker and the shoemaker.
" That we'll see," says the manikin; whereupon he spat upon his hands, snatched up his club, and, without more ado, fell upon the tinker and the shoemaker, and began beating them with all his might and main. My goodness, you should have seen how they hopped about like two peas on a drum-head, and you should have heard how they bellowed and bawled for mercy! But the little ugly troll never stopped until he was too tired to drub them any more; then he went away whither he had come, and all that the two fellows could do was to rub the places that smarted the most.
By and by in came the fiddler with his armful of wood, but never a word did the tinker and the shoemaker say, for they had no notion of telling how such a little manikin had dusted the coats of two great hulking fellows like themselves; only the next day they thought that it would be well to rest where they were, for their bones were too sore to be jogging. So they lolled around the house all day, and found everything that they wanted to eat in the cupboards.
After supper there was more wood to be brought in from the forest, and this time it was the tinker and the shoemaker who went to fetch it, for they had settled it between them that the fiddler was to have a taste of the same broth that they had supped.
Sure enough, by and by in came the ugly little troll with the great long cudgel.
" I want something to eat," says he.
" There it is, brother," says the fiddler," help yourself."
" It is you who shall wait on me," says the ugly little troll.
" Tut!" says the fiddler, " how you talk, neighbor; have you no hands of your own ?"
" You shall wait on me," says the manikin.
" I shall not," says the fiddler.
" That we will see," says the manikin, and he spat upon his hands and gripped his cudgel.
"Hi!" says the fiddler, " and is that the game you are playing? Then, rub-a-dub-dub!" says he.
Pop !—up jumps his staff from the corner where he had stood it, and then you should have seen the dust fly ! This time it was the manikin who hopped over the chairs and begged and bawled for mercy. As for the fiddler, he stood by with his hands in his pockets and whistled. By and by the manikin found the door, and out he jumped with the fiddler at his heels. But the fiddler was not quick enough, for, before he could catch him, the little troll popped into a great hole in the ground like a frog into a well; and there was an end to that business.
After a while the tinker and the shoemaker came back from the forest with their load of wood, and then how the fiddler did laugh at them, for he saw very well how the wind had been blowing with them. As for him, he was all for following the little manikin into the hole in the ground; so they hunted here and they hunted there, until they found a great basket and a rope, and then the tinker and the shoemaker lowered the fiddler and his staff down into the pit.
Down he went ever so deep until he reached the bottom, and there he found a great room. The first body whom he saw was a princess as pretty .as a ripe apple, but looking, oh, so sad ! at being in such a place. The next he saw was the ugly little troll, who sat in the corner and growled like our
cat when the dog comes into the kitchen.
" So!" says the fiddler, " there you are, are you ? Then it is rub-a-dub-
dub again." And this time before the drubbing was stopped it was all over with the troll.
And then who was glad but the pretty princess. She flung her arms around the merry little fiddler's neck, and gave him a right good smacking kiss or two, and that paid a part of the score, I can tell you. Then they sat down and the pretty princess told him all about how the troll had carried her off a year and more ago, and had kept her in this place ever since. After that she took a pure gold ring off of her finger and broke it in two; half of it was for the fiddler and half of it was for her ; for they were sweethearts now, and the ring was to be a love-token.
Then the fiddler put the princess into the basket, and the two fellows above hauled her up. By and by down came the basket again, and now it was the fiddler's turn. " Suppose," says he, " that they are up to some of their tricks !" So he tumbled a great stone into the basket in the place of himself. Sure enough, when the basket was about half-way up, down it came tumbling, for the rogues above had cut the rope, and if the fiddler had been there in the place of the stone, it would have been all over with him.
Then if anybody was ever down in the dumps the fiddler was the fellow. For there he was down in the pit, and he could no more get out of his pickle than a toad out of the cellar window. After he had been there for ever so long a time, he saw a pretty little fiddle that hung back of the cupboard. " Aha!" says he, " there is some butter to the crust after all; and now we will just have a bit of a jig to cheer us up a little." So down he sat and began to play.
And then what do you think happened ? Why, up popped a little fellow no higher than your knee and as black as your hat !
" What do you want, master?" said he.
" So," said the fiddler, " and is that the tune we play ? Well, I should like to get out of this pit, that I should."
No sooner said than done, for he had hardly time to pick up his staff and tuck the fiddle under his arm, when—whisk ! — he was up above as quick as a wink.
" Hi !" said he, " but this is a pretty fiddle to own and no mistake !" and off he went, right foot foremost.
After a while he came to the town where the king lived, and there was a great buzzing and gossip, and this was why: all the folks were talking about how the tinker and the shoemaker had brought back the princess from the ugly little troll, and of how the king had promised that whoever did that was to have her for his wife and half of the kingdom to boot; but here were two lads, and the question was who was to have her. For before they had left the pit over yonder, the tinker and the shoemaker had made the princess vow and promise that she would say nothing about how they had treated the fiddler, and now each fellow was saying that he had brought her up out of the troll's den.
And the princess did nothing but sit and cry and cry; but, as for marry ing, she vowed and declared that she would not do that till she had a pair of slippers of pure gold, and a real diamond buckle on each slipper; and nobody in all of the town was able to make the kind that she wanted.
When the fiddler heard all this he went straight to a shoemaker's shop. " Will you take a journeyman shoemaker?" says he.
•" What can you do ?" says the master shoemaker.
" I can make a pair of slippers such as the princess wants, only I must have a room all to myself to make them in," says the fiddler.
When the master shoemaker heard this, he was not long in making up his mind, so the bargain was closed and that settled the business.
As soon as the fiddler was alone he drew out his fiddle and began to play a bit of a jig, and there stood the little black fellow, just as he had done before.
" What do you wan f . ?" says he.
" I should like," said the fiddler, " to have a pair of slippers such as the princess asks for, but I only want one buckle to the pair, and that must be made of real diamonds."
Oh! that was an easy thing to have, and there were the slippers just as the fiddler had ordered.
" But there is only one buckle," says the master shoemaker.
" Tut!" says the fiddler, " turn no hairs grey for that, brother. Just tell the princess that the fiddler has the other, and matters will be as smooth as cream."
Well, the master shoemaker did as the fiddler said, and you may guess how the princess opened her pretty eyes when she heard that her sweet heart was thereabouts. Nothing would suit her but that she must see that journeyman shoemaker. But when they sent to fetch him, he was gone.
And now the shoemaker and the tinker began to talk again ; the princess had been promised to the man who saved her from the troll, and so she must and should choose one of them. But no; the princess was not ready yet; she would never marry till she had a pair of gloves of the finest silk, all embroidered with silver and pearls and with a ruby clasp at the wrist of each.
And now came the same dance with a different tune, for nobody was to be found in all of the town who could make such a pair of gloves as she wanted. By and by the matter came to the fiddler's ears, and off he set to the glover's shop. And did the glover want an apprentice ?
Yes, the glover wanted an apprentice, but he must know first what the other could do.
"Well," said the fiddler, "if I have a room all to myself, I can make a pair of gloves such as the princess asks for." And after that he was not left to kick his toes in the cold.
As soon as he was alone, he drew out his fiddle and struck up an air, and there stood the little black man again.
" I would like," said the fiddler, " to have a pair of gloves such as the princess asks for. But there must be only one clasp to the wrist, and that made all of pure rubies." That is what he said, and there were the gloves without his having to ask twice for them.
" But there is only one clasp," said the glover.
"Never mind that," said the wonderful apprentice; "just tell the prin cess that the fiddler had the other, and she will be satisfied."
As for the princess, she sent off post-haste for the lad who had made her gloves. But she was behindhand this time too, for, when those whom she sent came to the glover's house, they found nobody there but the cat and the kettle, and the master glover, for the fiddler was gone.
And now the tinker and the shoemaker began again; the princess had her gloves, and she must and should choose one or the other of them.
But no. First of all the princess must have a fine dress all of white silk with both sleeves looped up with pearls as big as marbles.
But there was nobody to make such a dress as that in all of the town, till the fiddler went to the master tailor and offered himself as a journeyman workman. Then the dress came quickly enough, and with only the tune of a fiddle. But the loop of pearls on one sleeve was missing.
" And that will never do in the wide world," says the tailor.
" Oh," says the fiddler, " that is nothing ; just tell the princess that the. fiddler has the other, and she will be satisfied."
Well, the tailor did as he said, and when the princess heard who had the pearl loop, she was satisfied, just as the fiddler had said she would be.
By and by the tinker and the shoemaker began again; the princess must choose one or the other of them. And now there was nothing left for her to do but to say " Yes." She felt sure that the fiddler would-be on hand at the right time, and so a day was fixed for choosing whom she would marry.
It was not long before the fiddler heard of that, for news flies fast. Off he went by himself and played a turn or two on his fiddle.
" And what do you want now?" says the little manikin.
" This time," said the fiddler, "I want a splendid suit of clothes for myself, all of silver and gold ; besides that, I want a hat with a great feather in it and a fine milk-white horse.
So; good! Well, he could have those things easily enough, and there they were.
So the fiddler dressed himself in his fine clothes, and then, when it was about time for the princess to make her choice, he mounted upon his great milk-white horse and set off for the king's house with his staff across the saddle in front of him.
But you should have seen how the people looked as he rode along the street, for they had never laid eyes upon such a fine sight in all of their lives before. Up he rode to the castle, and when he knocked at the door they did not keep him waiting long out in the cold, I can tell you.
There they all sat at dinner, the tinker on one side of the princess and the shoemaker on the other. But when they saw the fiddler in his grand clothes, they thought that he was some great nobleman for sure and certain, for neither the princess nor the two rogues knew who he was. The folks squeezed together along the bench and made room for him ; so he leaned
his staff in the corner and down he sat, just across the table from the princess.
By and by he asked the princess if she would drink a glass of red wine with him.
Yes, the princess would do that.
So the fiddler drank, and then what did he do but drop his half of the ring that the princess had given him into the cup, before he passed it across to her.
Then the princess drank, but something bobbed against her lips ; and when she came to look — lo and behold ! — there was the half of her ring.
And if anybody in all of the world was glad, it was the princess at that very moment. Up she stood before them all ; " There is my sweetheart," says she, " and I will marry him and no one else."
As for the fiddler, he just said, " Rub-a-dub-dub," and up jumped the staff and began to thump and bang the tinker and the shoemaker until they scampered away for dear life, and there was an end of them so far as I know, for if you would like to know what happened to them afterwards, you will have to ask some one else.
The king was ever so glad to have the fiddler for a son-in-law in the place either of the tinker or the shoemaker, for he was a much better-looking lad. Besides, the others had done nothing but brew trouble and worriment ever since they had come into the house.
After that there was a grand wedding. I too was there at the feasting, but I got nothing but empty sausage and wind pudding, and so I came away again.
And that is the end of this story.
THERE was a princess who was as pretty as a picture, and she was so proud of that that she would not so much as look at a body; all the same, there was no lack of lads who came a-wooing, and who would have liked nothing so much as to have had her for a sweetheart because she was so good-looking. But, no, she would have nothing to do with any of them ; this one was too young and that one was too old ;
this one was too lean and that one was too fat; this one was too little and that one was too big ; this one was too dark and that one was too fair. So there was never a white sheep in the whole flock, as one might say.
Now there was one came who was a king in his own country, and a fine one at that. The only blemish about him was a mole on his chin; apart from that he was as fresh as milk and rose leaves.
But when the princess saw him she burst out laughing ; " Who would choose a specked apple from the basket?" said she; and that was all the cake the prince bought at that shop, for off he was packed.
But he was not for giving up, not he; he went and dressed himself up in rags and tatters; then back he came again, and not a soul knew him.
Rap ! tap ! rap ! — he knocked at the door, and did they want a stout lad about the place?
Well, yes ; they were wanting a gooseherd, and if he liked the place he might have it.
Oh, that fitted his wants like a silk stocking, and the next day he drove the geese up on the hill back of the king's house, so that they might eat grass where it was fresh and green. By and by he took a golden ball out of his pocket and began tossing it up and catching it, and as he played with it the sun shone on it so that it dazzled one's eyes to look at it.
The princess sat at her window, and it was not long before she saw it, I can tell you. Dear, dear, but it was a pretty one, the golden ball. The princess would like to have such a plaything, that she would ; so she sent one of the maids out to ask whether the gooseherd had a mind to sell it.
Oh, yes, it was for sale, and cheap at that; the princess should have it for the kerchief which she wore about her neck.
Prut ! but the lad \vas a saucy one; that was what the princess said. But, after all, a kerchief was only a kerchief; fetch the gooseherd over and she wotild give it to him, for she wanted the pretty golden ball for her own, and she would have it if it were to be had.
But, no ; the gooseherd would not come at the princess's bidding. If she wanted to buy the golden ball she must come up on the hill and pay him, for he was not going to leave his flock of geese, and have them wad dling into the garden perhaps; that is what the gooseherd said. So the upshot of the matter was that the princess went out with her women, and gave the lad the kerchief up on the hill behind the hedge, and brought back the golden ball with her for her own.
As for the gooseherd he just tied the kerchief around his arm so that everybody might see it ; and all the folks said, " Hi! that is the princess's kerchief."
The next day, when he drove his flock of geese up on the hill, he took a silver looking-glass and a golden comb out of his pocket and began to comb his hair, and you should have seen how the one and the other glistened in the sun.
It took the princess no longer to see the comb and the looking-glass than it had the golden ball, and then she must and would have them. So she sent one to find whether the lad was of a mind to sell them, for she thought that she had never seen anything so pretty in all of her life before.
"Yes," said he," I will sell them, but the princess must come up on the hill back of the hedge and give me the necklace she wears about her neck."
The princess made a sour enough face at this, but, as the gooseherd would take nothing more nor less than what he had said, she and her maids had to tuck up their dresses and go up on the hill; there she paid him his price, and brought home the silver looking-glass and the golden comb.
The lad clasped the necklace about his throat, and, dear, dear, how all the folks did goggle and stare. " See," said they, " the princess has been giving the gooseherd the necklace from about her own throat."
The third day it was a new thing the gooseherd had, for he brought out a musical box with figures on it, dressed up, and looking for all the world like real little men and women. He turned the handle, and when the music played it was sweeter than drops of honey. And all the while the little men and women bowed to one another and went through with a dance, for all the world as though they knew what they were about, and were doing it with their own wits.
Good gracious! how the princess did wonder at the pretty musical box ! She must and would have it at any price; but this time it was five-and-twenty kisses that the lad was wanting for his musical box, and he would take nothing more nor less than just that much for it. Moreover, she would have to come up on the hillside and give them to him, for he could not leave his geese even for five-and-twenty kisses.
But you should have seen what a stew the princess was in at this! Five-and-twenty kisses, indeed ! And did the fellow think that it was for the likes of her to be kissing a poor gooseherd ? He might keep his musical box if that was the price he asked for it; that was what she said.
As for the lad, he just played the music and played the music, and the more the princess heard and saw the more she wanted it. " After all," said she, at last, " a kiss is only a kiss, and I will be none the poorer for giving one or two of them ; I'll just let him have them, since he will take nothing else." So off she marched, with all of her maidens, to pay the gooseherd his price, though it was a sour face she made of it, and that is the truth.
Now, somebody had been buzzing in the king's ear, and had told him that the gooseherd over yonder was wearing the princess's kerchief and her golden necklace, and folks said she had given them to him of her own free will
"What!" says the king, "is that so? her kerchief! golden necklace!
we will have to look into this business." So off he marched, with his little dog at his heels, to find out what he could about it. Up the hill he went to where the gooseherd watched his flock; and when he came near the hedge where the kissing was going on, he heard them counting—" Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three—" and he wondered what in the world they were all about. So he just peeped over the bushes, and there he saw the whole business.
Mercy on us ! what a rage he was in ! So; the princess would turn up her nose at folks as good as herself, would she ? And here she was kissing the gooseherd back of the hedge. If he was the kind she liked she should have him for good and all.
So the minister was called in, and the princess and the gooseherd were married then and there, and that was the end of the business. Then off they were packed to shift for themselves in the wide world, for they were not to live at the king's castle, and that was the long and the short of it.
But the lad did nothing but grumble and growl, and seemed as sore over his bargain as though he had been trying to trick a Jew. What did he want with a lass for a wife who could neither brew nor bake nor boil blue beans? That is what he said. All the same, they were hitched to the same plough, and there was nothing for it but to pull together the best they could. So off they packed, and the poor princess trudged after him and carried his bundle.
So they went on until they came to a poor, mean little hut. There she had to take off her fine clothes and put on rags and tatters; and that was the way she came home.
" Well," said the gooseherd one day, " it's not the good end of the bargain that I have had in manying; all the same, one must make the best one can of a crooked stick when there is none other to be cut in the hedge. It is little or nothing you are fit for; but here is a basket of eggs, and you shall take them to the market and sell them."
So off the poor princess went to the great town, and stood in the corner of the market with her eggs. By and by there came along a tipsy countryman— tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! As for the basket of eggs, he minded them n more than so many green apples. Smash! and there they lay on the ground, and were fit for nothing but to patch broken promises, as we say in our town.
Then how the poor princess did wring her hands and cry and cry, for she was afraid to go home to her husband, because of the hard words he
would be sure to fling at her. All the same, there was no other place for her to go; so back she went.
" There!" said he, " I always knew that you were good for nothing but to look at, and now I am more sure of it than ever. The china pitcher was never fit to send to the well, and it was a rainy day for me when I married such a left-handed wife;" that was what the gooseherd said. All the same, the princess should try again ; this time she should take a basket of apples to the market to sell; for whatever happened she could not break them ; so off she went again.
Well, by and by came a fellow driving swine, and there sat the princess in the way; that was bad luck for her, for over tumbled the basket, and the
apples went rolling all about the street. When the drove had passed there was not a single apple to be seen, for the pigs had eaten every one of them. So there was nothing for the princess but to go home crying, with her apron to her eyes.
" Yes, yes," said the gooseherd, " it is as plain as reading and writing and* the nose on your face that you are just fit for nothing at all! All the same, we'll make one more try to mend the crack in your luck. The king up in the castle yonder is married and is going to give a grand feast. They are wanting a body in the kitchen to draw the water and chop the wood ; and you shall go and try your hand at that ; and see, here is a basket; you shall take it along and bring home the kitchen scrapings for supper."
So off went the princess to the castle kitchen, and there she drew the water and chopped the wood for the cook. After her work was done she begged so prettily for the kitchen scrapings that the cook filled her basket full of the leavings from the pots and the pans, for they were about having a grand dinner up-stairs and the king was going to bring home his wife that day.
By and by it was time for her to be going home, so she picked up her basket and off she went. Just outside stood two tall soldiers. " Halt!" said they. And was she the lass who had been chopping the wood and drawing the water for the cook that day? Yes? Then she must go along with them, for she was wanted up-stairs. No; it did no good for her to beg and to pray and to cry and to wring her hands, and it mat tered nothing if her good man was waiting for her at home. She had been sent for, and she must go, willy-nilly. So she had only just time to fling her apron over her basket of kitchen scrapings, and off they marched her.
There sat the king on his golden throne, dressed all in splendid golden robes, and with a golden crown glittering upon his head. But the poor princess was so frightened that she neither looked at anything nor saw anything, but only stood there trembling.
" What have you under your apron ?" said the king. But to this the princess could not answer a single word. Then somebody who stood near snatched away her apron, and there was the basket full of kitchen scrapings, and all the time the princess stood so heart-struck with shame that she saw nothing but the cracks in the floor.
But the king stepped down from his golden throne, dressed all in his
golden robes, just as he was, and took the princess by the hand. " And do you not know me?" said he; " look ! I am the gooseherd."
And so he was ! She could see it easily enough now, but that made her more ashamed than ever.
And listen : the king had more to tell her yet. He was -the tipsy coun tryman and had knocked over her basket of eggs himself, and more than that he was the swineherd who had driven his pigs over her basket of apples so that they were spilled on the ground. But the princess only bowed her head lower and lower, for her pride was broken.
" Come," says the king, " you are my own sweetheart now ;" and he kissed her on the cheek and seated her beside himself, and if the princess
cried any more the king wiped away her tears with his own pocket-hand kerchief. As for the poor and rough clothes in which she was dressed, he thought nothing of them, for they were nothing to him.
That is the end of this story, for everything ends aright in a story worth the telling.
But if the princess was proud and haughty before, she never was again; and that is the plain truth, fresh from the churn and no hairs in it, and a lump of it is worth spreading your bread with, I can tell you.
THIS was the way of it.
Uncle Bear had a pot of honey and a big cheese, but the Great Red Fox had nothing but his wits.
The fox was for going into partnership, for he says, says he, " a head full of wits is worth more than a pot of honey and a big cheese," which was as true as gospel, only that wits cannot be shared in part nership among folks, like red herring and blue beans, or a pot of honey and a big cheese.
All the same, Uncle Bear was well enough satisfied, and so they went into partnership together, just as the Great Red Fox had said. As for the pot of honey and the big cheese, why, they were'put away for a rainy day, and the wits were all that were to be used just now.
" Very well," says the fox, " we'll rattle them up a bit;" and so he did, and this was how.
He was hungry for the honey, was the Great Red Fox. " See, now," said he, " I am sick to-day, and I will just go and see the Master Doctor over yonder,"
But it was not the doctor he went to; no, off he marched to the store house, and there he ate part of the honey. After that he laid out in the sun and toasted his skin, for that is pleasant after a great dinner. By and by he went home again.
"Well," says Uncle Bear, "and how do you feel now?"
" Oh, well enough," says the Great Red Fox.
"And was the medicine bitter?" says Uncle Bear.
" Oh, no, it was good enough," says the Great Red Fox.
" And how much did the doctor give you ?" says Uncle Bear.
" Oh, about one part of a pot full," says the Red Fox.
Dear, dear! thinks Uncle Bear, that is a great deal of medicine to take, for sure and certain.
Well, things went on as smoothly as though the wheels were greased, until by and by the fox grew hungry for a taste of honey again ; and this time he had to go over yonder and see his aunt. Off he went to the storehouse, and there he ate all the honey he wanted, and then, after he had slept a bit in the sun, he went back home again.
" Well," says Uncle Bear, " and did you see your aunt?"
" Oh, yes," says the Great Red Fox, " I saw her."
"And did she give you anything?" says Uncle Bear.
" Oh, yes, she gave me a trifle," says the Great Red Fox.
" And what was it she gave you ?" says Uncle Bear.
" Why, she gave me another part of a pot full, that was all," says the Great Red Fox.
" Dear, dear! but that is a queer thing to give," says Uncle Bear.
By and by the Great Red Fox was thinking of honey again, and now it was a christening he had to go to. Off he went to the pot of honey, and this time he finished it all and licked the pot into the bargain.
And had everything gone smoothly at the christening? That was what Uncle Bear wanted to know.
" Oh, smoothly enough," says the Great Red Fox.
" And did they have a christening feast ?" says Uncle Bear. '
" Oh, yes, they had that," says the Great Red Fox.
" And what did they have ?" says Uncle Bear.
" Oh, everything that was in the pot," says the Great Red Fox.
" Dear, dear," says Uncle Bear, " but they must have been a hungry set at that christening."
Well, one day Uncle Bear says, " We'll have a feast and eat up the pot of honey and the big cheese, and we'll ask Father Goat over to help us."
That suited the Great Red Fox well enough, so off he went to the storehouse to fetch the pot of honey and the cheese; as for Uncle Bear
he went to ask Father Goat to come and help them eat up the good things.
"See, now," says the Great Red Fox to himself, " the pot of honey and the big cheese belong together, and it is a pity to part them." So down he sat without more ado, and when he got up again the cheese was all inside of him.
When he came home again there was Father Goat toasting his toes at the fire and waiting for supper; and there was Uncle Bear on the back door-step sharpening the bread-knife.
" Hi!" says the Great Red Fox, " and what are you doing here, Father Goat?"
" I am just waiting for supper, and that is all," says Father Goat.
"And where is Uncle Bear?" says the Great Red Fox.
" He is sharpening the bread-knife," says Father Goat.
" Yes," says the Great Red Fox, " and when he is through with that he is going to cut your tail off."
Dear, dear! but Father Goat was in a great fright ; that house was no place for him, and he could see that with one eye shut; off he marched, as though the ground was hot under him. As for the Great Red Fox, he went out to Uncle Bear; " That was a pretty body you asked to take supper with us," says he; " here he has marched off with the pot of honey and the big cheese, and we may sit down and whistle over an empty table between us."
When Uncle Bear heard this he did not tarry, I can tell you ; up he got and off he went after Father Goat. " Stop ! stop !" he bawled, " let me have a little at least."
But Father Goat thought that Uncle Bear was speaking of his tail, for he knew nothing of the pot of honey and the big cheese; so he just knuckled down to it, and away he scampered till the gravel flew behind him.
And this was what came of that partnership ; nothing was left but the wits that the Great Red Fox had brought into the business; for nobody could blame Father Goat for carrying the wits off with him, and one might guess that without the telling.
Now, as the pot of honey and big cheese were gone, something else must be looked up, for one cannot live on thin air, and that is the truth.
" See, now," says the Great Red Fox, " Farmer John over yonder has a storehouse full of sausages and chitterlings and puddings, and all sort
of good things. As nothing else is left of the partnership we'll just churn our wits a bit, and see if we can make butter with them, as the saying goes;" that was what the Great Red Fox said, and it suited Uncle Bear as well as anything he ever heard ; so off they marched arm in arm.
By and by they came to Farmer John's house, and nobody was about, which was just what the two rogues wanted ; and, yes, there was the storehouse as plain as the nose on your face, only the door was locked. Above was a little window just big enough for the Great Red Fox to
creep into, though it was up ever so high. " Just give me a lift up through the window yonder," says he to Uncle Bear, " and I will drop the good things out for you to catch."
So Uncle Bear gave the Great Red Fox a leg up, and— pop! — and there he was in the storehouse like a mouse in the cheese-box.
As soon as he was safe among the good things he bawled out to Uncle Bear, " What shall it be first, sausages or puddings?"
" Hush ! hush !" said Uncle Bear.
" Yes, yes," bawled the Red Fox louder than ever," only tell me which I shall take first, sausages or puddings ?"
" Sh-h-h-h !" said Uncle Bear, " if you are making such a noise as that you will have them about our ears; take the first that comes and be quick about it."
" Yes, yes," bawled the fox as loud as he was able; ." but one is just as handy as another, and you must tell me which I shall take first."
But Uncle Bear got neither pudding nor sausage, for the Great Red Fox had made such a hubbub that Farmer John and his men came running, and three great dogs with them.
" Hi!" said they, " there is Uncle Bear after the sausages and puddings ;" and there was nothing for him to do but to lay foot to the ground as fast as he could. All the same, they caught him over the hill, and gave him such a drubbing that his bones ached for many a long day.
But the Great Red Fox only waited until all the others were well away on their own business, and then he filled a bag with the best he could lay his hands on, opened the door from the inside, and walked out as though it were from his own barn ; for there was nobody to say " No " to him. He hid the good things away in a place of his own, and it was little of them that Uncle B.ear smelt. After he had gathered all this, Master Fox came home, groaning as though he had had an awful drubbing ; it would have moved a heart of stone to hear him.
" Dear, oh dear! what a drubbing I have had," said he.
" And so have I," said Uncle Bear, grinning over his sore bones as though cold weather were blowing snow in his teeth.
" See, now," said the Great Red Fox," this is what comes of going into partnership, and sharing one's wits with another. If you had made your choice when I asked you, your butter would never have been spoiled in the churning."
That was all the comfort Uncle Bear had, and cold enough it was too.
All the same, he is not the first in the world who has lost his dinner, and had both the drubbing and the blame into the bargain.
But things do not last forever, and so by and by the good things from Farmer John's storehouse gave out, and the Great Red Fox had nothing in the larder.
" Listen," says he to Uncle Bear, " I saw them shaking the apple-trees at Farmer John's to-day, and if you have a mind to try the wits that belong to us, we'll go and bring a bagful apiece from the storehouse over yonder at the farm."
Yes, that suited Uncle Bear well enough; so off they marched, each of them with an empty bag to fetch back the apples. By and by they came to the storehouse, and nobody was about. This time the door was not locked, so in the both of them went and began filling their bags with apples. The Great Red Fox tumbled them into his bag as fast as ever he could, taking them just as they came, good or bad ; but Uncle Bear took his time about it and picked them all over, for since he had come there he was bound to get the best that were to be had.
So the upshot of the matter was that the Great Red Fox had his bag full before Uncle Bear had picked out half a score of good juicy apples.
" I'll just peep out of the window yonder," says the Great Red Fox, "and see if Farmer John is coming." But in his sleeve he said to himself, " I'll slip outside and turn the key of the door on Uncle Bear, for somebody will have to carry the blame of this, and his shoulders are broader and his skin tougher than mine ; he will never be able to get out of that little window." So up he jumped with his bag of apples, to do as he said.
But listen ! A hasty man drinks hot broth. And so it was with the Great Red Fox, for up in the window they had set a trap to catch rats. But he knew nothing of that; out he jumped from the window — click! went the trap and caught him by the tail, and there he hung.
" Is Farmer John coming?" bawled Uncle Bear, by and by.
" Hush! hush!" said the Great Red Fox, for he was trying to get his tail out of the trap.
But the boot was on the other leg now. "Yes, yes," bawled Uncle Bear, louder than before, "but tell me, is Farmer John coming?"
u Sh-h-h-h!" says the Great Red Fox.
" No, no," bawled Uncle Bear, as loud as he could, " what I want to know is, is Farmer John coming?"
Yes, he was, for he had heard the hubbub, and here he was with a lot of his men and three great dogs.
"Oh, Farmer John," bawled the Great Red Fox, "don't touch me, 1 am not the thief. Yonder is Uncle Bear in the pantry, he is the one."
Yes, yes, Farmer John knew how much of that cake to eat ; here was the rogue of a fox caught in the trap and the beating was ready for him. That was the long and the short of it.
When the Great Red Fox heard this, he pulled with all his might and main. Snap! went his tail and broke off close to his body, and away he
scampered with Farmer John the men and the dogs close to his heels. But Uncle Bear rilled his bag full of apples, and when all hands had gone racing away after the Great Red Fox, he walked quietly out of the door and off home.
And that is how the Great Red Fox lost his tail in the trap.
What is the meaning of all this ? Why, here it is: When a rogue and another cracks a nut together, it is not often the rogue who breaks his teeth by trying to eat the hulls. And this too: But when one sets a trap for another, it is a toss of a copper whether or no it flies up and pinches his own fingers.
If there is anything more left in the dish you may scrape it for yourself.
THERE was a drummer marching along the high-road —forward march !—left, right!—tramp, tramp, tramp ! —for the fighting was done, and he was coming home from the wars. By and by he came to a great wide stream of water, and there sat an old man as gnarled and as bent as the hoops in a cooper shop. " Are you going to cross the water?" said he.
" Yes," says the drummer, " I am going to do that if my legs hold out to carry me."
"And will you not help a poor body across?" says the old man. Now, the drummer was as good-natured a lad as ever stood on two legs. " If the young never gave a lift to the old," says he to himself, " the wide world would not be worth while living in." So he took off his shoes and stockings, and then he bent his back and took the old man on it, and away he started through the water—splash !
But this was no common old man whom the drummer was carrying, and he was not long finding that out, for the farther he went in the water the heavier grew his load —like work put off until to-morrow —so that, when he was half-way across, his legs shook under him and the sweat stood on his forehead like a string of beads in the shop-window. But by and by he reached the other shore, and the old man jumped down from his back. " Phew!" says the drummer, " I am glad to be here at last !"
And now for the wonder of all this: The old man was an old man no longer, but a splendid tall fellow with hair as yellow as gold. "And who do you think I am ?" said he. * >
But of that the drummer knew no more than the mouse in the haystack, so he shook his head, and said nothing.
" I am king of the storks, and here I have sat for many days; for the wicked one-eyed witch who lives on the glass hill put it upon me for a spell that I should be an old man until somebody should carry me over the water. You are the first to do that, and you shall not lose by it. Here is a little bone whistle; whenever you are in trouble just blow a turn or two on it, and I will be by to help you."
Thereupon King Stork drew a feather cap out of his pocket and clapped it on., his head, and away he flew, for he was turned into a great, long, red-legged stork as quick as a wink.
But the drummer trudged on the way he was going, as merry as a cricket, for it is not everybody who cracks his shins against such luck as he had stumbled over, I can tell you. By and by he came to the town over the hill, and there he found great bills stuck up over the walls. They were all of them proclamations. And this is what they said:
The princess of that town was as clever as she was pretty ; that was say ing a great deal, for she was the handsomest in the whole world. (" Phew! but that is a fine lass for sure and certain," said the drummer.) So it was proclaimed that any lad who could answer a question the princess would ask, and would ask a question the princess could not answer, and would catch the bird that she would be wanting, should have her for his wife and half of the kingdom to boot, (" Hi! but here is luck for a clever lad," says the drummer.) But whoever should fail in any one of the three tasks should have his head chopped off as sure as he lived. (" Ho! but she is a wicked one for all that," says the drummer.)
That was what the proclamation said, and the drummer would have a try for her; " for," said he, " it is a poor fellow who cannot manage a wife when he has her"— and he knew as much about that business as a goose about churning butter. As for chopping off heads, he never bothered his own about that; for, if one never goes out for fear of rain one never catches fish.
Off he went to the king's castle as fast as he could step, and there he knocked on the door, as bold as though his own grandmother lived there.
But when the king heard what the drummer had come for, he took out
his pocket-handkerchief and began to wipe his eyes, for he had a soft heart under his jacket, and it made him cry like anything to see another coming to have his head chopped off, as so many had done before him. For there they were, all along the wall in front of the princess's window, like so many apples.
But the drummer was not to be scared away by the king's crying a bit, so in he came, and by and by they all sat down to supper— he and the king and the princess. As for the princess, she was so pretty that the drummer's heart melted inside of him, like a lump of butter on the stove—and that was what she was after. After a while she asked him if he had come to answer a question of hers, and to ask her a question of his, and to catch the bird that she should set him to catch.
" Yes," said the drummer, " I have come to do that very thing." And he spoke as boldly and as loudly as the clerk in church.
"Very well, then," says the princess, as sweet as sugar candy, "just come along to-morrow, and I will ask you your question."
Off went the drummer ; he put his whistle to his lips and blew a turn or two, and there stood King Stork, and nobody knows where he stepped from.
" And what do you want ?" says he.
The drummer told him everything, and how the princess was going to ask him a question to-morrow morning that he would have to answer, or have his head chopped off.
" Here you have walked into a pretty puddle, and with your eyes open," says King Stork, for he knew that the princess was a wicked enchantress, and loved nothing so much as to get a lad into just such a scrape as the drummer had tumbled into. " But see, here is a little cap and a long feather —the cap is a dark-cap, and when you put it on your head one can see you no more than so much thin air. At twelve o'clock at night the princess will come out into the castle garden and will fly away through the air. Then throw your leg over the feather, and it will carry you wherever you want to go; and if the princess flies fast it will carry you as fast and faster.''
"Dong! Dong!" The clock struck twelve, and the princess came out of her house; but in the garden was the drummer waiting for her with the dark-cap on his head, and he saw her as plain as a pikestaff. She brought a pair of great wings which she fastened to her shoulders, and away she flew. But the drummer was as quick with his tricks as she was with hers; he flung his leg over the feather which King Stork had given him, and away he flew after her, and just as fast as she with her great wings.
By and by they came to a huge castle of shining steel that stood on a mountain of glass. And it was a good thing for the drummer that he had on his cap of darkness, for all around outside of the castle stood fiery dragons and savage lions to keep anybody from going in without leave.
But not a thread of the drummer did they see; in he walked with the princess, and there was a great one-eyed witch with a beard on her chin, and a nose that hooked over her mouth like the beak of a parrot.
11 Uff!" said she, " here is a smell of Christian blood in the house."
" Tut, mother!" says the princess, " how you talk! do you not see that there is nobody with me?" For the drummer had taken care that the wind should not blow the cap of darkness off of his head, I can tell you. By and by they sat down to supper, the princess and the witch, but it was little the princess ate, for as fast as anything was put on her plate the drummer helped himself to it, so that it was all gone before she could get a bite.
" Look, mother!" she said, " I eat nothing, and yet it all goes from my plate; why is that so ?" But that the old witch could not tell her, for she could see nothing of the drummer.
" There was a lad came to-day to answer the question I shall put to him," said the princess. " Now what shall I ask him by way of a question ?"
" I have a tooth in the back part of my head," said the witch, " and it has been grumbling a bit; ask him what it is you are thinking about, and let it be that."
Yes; that was a good question for sure and certain, and the princess would give it to the drummer to-morrow, to see what he had to say for himself. As for the drummer, you can guess how he grinned, for he heard every word that they said.
After a while the princess flew away home again, for it was nearly the break of day, and she must be back before the sun rose. And the drummer flew close behind her, but she knew nothing of that.
The next morning up he marched to the king's castle and knocked at the door, and they let him in.
There sat the king and the princess, and lots of folks besides. Well, had he come to answer her question ? That was what the princess wanted to know.
Yes; that was the very business he had come about.
Very well, this was the question, and he might have three guesses at it; what was she thinking of at that minute ?
Oh, it could be no hard thing to answer such a question as that, for lasses' heads all ran upon the same things more or less ; was it a fine silk dress with glass buttons down the front that she was thinking of now ?
No, it was not that.
Then, was it of a good stout lad like himself for a sweetheart, that she was thinking of ?
No, it was not that.
No ? Then it was the bad tooth that had been grumbling in the head of the one-eyed witch for a day or two past, perhaps.
Dear, dear! but you should have seen the princess's face when she heard this ! Up she got and off she packed without a single word, and the king saw without the help of his spectacles that the drummer had guessed right. He was so glad that he jumped up and down and snapped his fingers for joy. Besides that he gave out that bonfires should be lighted all over the town, and that was a fine thing for the little boys.
The next night the princess flew away to the house of the one-eyed witch again, but there was the drummer close behind her just as he had been before.
" Uff!" said the one-eyed witch," here is a smell of Christian blood, for sure and certain." But all the same, she saw no more of the drummer than if he had never been born.
" See, mother," said the princess, " that rogue of a drummer answered my question without winking over it."
" So," said the old witch, " we have missed for once, but the second time hits the mark; he will be asking you a question to-morrow, and here is a book that tells everything that has happened in the world, and if he asks you more than that he is a smart one and no mistake."
After that they sat down to supper again, but it was little the princess ate, for the drummer helped himself out of her plate just as he had done before.
After a while the princess flew away home, and the drummer with her.
" And, now, what will we ask her that she cannot answer ?" said the drummer; so off he went back of the house, and blew a turn or two on his whistle, and there stood King Stork.
" And what will we ask the princess," said he, " when she has a book that tells her everything?"
King Stork was not long in telling him that; " Just ask her so and so and so and so," said he, " and she would not dare to answer the question."
Well, the next morning there was the drummer at the castle all in good time ; and, had he come to ask her a question ? that was what the princess wanted to know.
Oh, yes, he had come for that very thing.
Very well, then, just let him begin, for the princess was ready and waiting, and she wet her thumb, and began to turn over the leaves of her Book of Knowledge.
Oh, it was an easy question the drummer was going to ask, and it needed no big book like that to answer it. The other night he dreamed that he was in a castle all built of shining steel, where there lived a witch with one eye. There was a handsome bit of a lass there who was as great a witch as the old woman herself, but for the life of him he could not tell who she was; now perhaps the princess could make a guess at it.
There the drummer had her as tight as a fly in a bottle, for she did not dare to let folks know that she was a wicked witch like the one-eyed one; so all she could do was to sit there and gnaw her lip. As for the Book of Knowledge, it was no more use to her than a fifth wheel under a cart.
But if the king was glad when the drummer answered the princess's question, he was twice as glad when he found she could not answer his.
All the same, there is more to do yet, and many a slip betwixt the cup and the lip. " The bird I want is the one-eyed raven," said the princess; " Now bring her to me if you want to keep your head off of the wall yonder."
Yes ; the drummer thought he might do that as well as another thing. So off he went back of the house to talk to King Stork of the matter.
" Look," said King Stork, and he drew a net out of his pocket as fine as a cobweb and as white as milk; " take this with you when you go with the princess to the one-eyed witch's house to-night, throw it over the witch's head, and then see what will happen; only when you catch the one-eyed raven you are to wring her neck as soon as you lay hands on her, for if you don't it will be the worse for you."
Well, that night off flew the princess just as she had done before, and off flew the drummer at her heels, until they came to the witch's house, both of them.
" And did you take his head this time ?" said the witch.
No, the princess had not done that, for the drummer had asked such and such a question, and she could not answer it; all the same, she had
him tight enough now, for she had set it as a task upon him that he should bring her the one-eyed raven, and it was not likely he would be up to doing that. After that the princess and the one-eyed witch sat down to supper together, and the drummer served the princess the same trick that he had done before, so that she got hardly a bite to eat.
" See," said the old witch when the princess was ready to go, " I will go home with you to-night, and see that you get there safe and sound." So she brought out a pair of wings, just like those the princess had, and set them on her shoulders, and away both of them flew with the drummer behind. So they came home without seeing a soul, for the drummer kept his cap of darkness tight upon his head all the while.
" Good-night," said the witch to the princess, and " Good-night" said the princess to the witch, and the one was for going one way and the other the other. But the drummer had his wits about him sharply enough, and before the old witch could get away he flung the net that King Stork had given him over her head.
" Hi!" but you should have been there to see what happened; for it was a great one-eyed raven, as black as the inside of the chimney, that he had in his net. 9
Dear, dear, how it flapped its wings and struck with its great beak ! But that did no good, for the drummer just wrung its neck, and there was an end of it.
The next morning he wrapped it up in his pocket-handkerchief and off he started for the king's castle, and there was the princess waiting for him, looking as cool as butter in the well, for she felt sure the drummer was caught in the trap this time.
" And have you brought the one-eyed raven with you ?" she said.
" Oh, yes," said the drummer, and here it was wrapped up in this handkerchief.
But when the princess saw the raven with its neck wrung, she gave a great shriek and fell to the floor. There she lay and they had to pick her up and carry her out of the room.
But everybody saw that the drummer had brought the bird she had asked for, and all were as glad as glad could be. The king gave orders that they should fire off the town cannon, just as they did on his birth day, and all the little boys out in the street flung up their hats and caps and cried, " Hurrah ! Hurrah !"
But the drummer went off back of the house. He blew a turn or two
on his whistle, and there stood King Stork. " Here is your dark-cap and your feather," says he, " and it is I who am thankful to you, for they have won me a real princess for a wife."
" Yes, good," says King Stork, " you have won her, sure enough, but the next thing is to keep her; for a lass is not cured of being a witch as quickly as you seem to think, and after one has found one's eggs one must roast them and butter them into the bargain. See now, the princess is just as wicked as ever she was before, and if you do not keep your eyes open she will trip you up after all. So listen to what I tell you. Just after you
are married, get a great bowl of fresh milk and a good, stiff switch. Pour the milk over the princess when you are alone together, and after that hold tight to her and lay on the switch, no matter what happens, for that is the only way to save yourself and to save her."
Well, the drummer promised to do as King Stork told him, and by and by came the wedding-day. Off he went over to the dairy and got a fresh pan of milk, and out he went into the woods and cut a stout hazel switch, as thick as his finger.
As soon as he and the princess were alone together he emptied the milk all over her; then he caught hold of her and began laying on the switch for dear life.
It was well for him that he was a brave fellow and had been to the wars, for, instead of the princess, he held a great black cat that glared at him with her fiery eyes, and growled and spat like anything. But that did no good, for the drummer just shut his eyes and laid on the switch harder than ever.
Then—puff !—instead of a black cat it was like a great, savage wolf, that snarled and snapped at the drummer with its red jaws; but the drummer just held fast and made the switch fly, and the wolf scared him no more than the black cat had done.
So out it went, like a light of a candle, and there was a great snake that lashed its tail and shot out its forked tongue and spat fire. But no; the drummer was no more frightened at that than he had been at the wolf and the cat, and, dear, dear! how he dressed the snake with his hazel switch.
Last of all, there stood the princess herself. " Oh, dear husband !" she cried, " let me go, and I will promise to be good all the days of my life.'' " Very well," says the drummer, " and that is the tune I like to hear."
That was the way he gained the best of her, whether it was the bowl of milk or the hazel switch, for afterwards she was as good a wife as ever churned butter ; but what did it is a question that you will have to answer for yourself. All the same, she tried no more of her tricks with him, I can tell you. And so this story comes to an end, like everything else in the world.
THERE was a blacksmith who lived near to a great, ckrk pine forest. He was as poor as charity soup ; tut dear knows whether that was his fault or not, for le laid his troubles upon the back of ill-luck, as everybody else does in our town.
One day the snow lay thick all over the ground, and hunger and cold sat in the blacksmith's house. " I'll go out into the forest," says he, " and see
whether I cannot get a bagful of pine-cones to make a fire in the stove." So off \/ stumped, but could find no cones, because they were all covered up witi white. On into the woods he went, farther and farther and deeper and Deeper, until he came to a high hill, all of bare rock. There he found a cle,r place and more pine-cones scattered over the ground than a body
count. He filled his basket, and it did not take him long to do that. ut he was not to get his pine-cones for nothing: click ! clack ! — a great door opened in the side of the hill, and out stepped a little dwarf, as ugly as Ugly could be, for his head was as big as a cabbage, his hair as red as carrots, and his eyes as green as a snake's.
w 'So," said he, "you are stealing my pine-cones, are you? And there a re none in the world like them. Look your last on the sunlight, for now you shall die."
Down fell the blacksmith on his knees. " Alas!" said he, " I did not know that they were your pine-cones. I will empty them out of my sack arid find some elsewhere."
"No," said the dwarf, "it is to:, kite to do that now. But listen, you might hunt the world over, .u-i find no such pine-cones as these; so we will strike a bit of a bargain between us. You shall go in peace with your pine-cones if you will give me wha: iies in the bread-trough at home."
"Oh, yes," said the blacksmith, "I will do that gladly."
"Very well," said the dwarf, "I will come for i^ pay at the end of seven days," and back he went into the hill again, and the door shut to behind him.
Off went the blacksmith, chuckling to hims-lf. " It i s the right end of the bargain that I have this time," said he.
But, bless you! he talked of that horse behre he had looked into its mouth, as my Uncle Peter used to say. For, lisen: while his wife sat at home spinning, she wrapped the baby in a blanke and laid it in the bread-trough, because it was empty and as good as a cra<l e . And that was what the dwarf spoke of, for he knew what had been done over at the black smith's house.
But the blacksmith was as happy as a cricket u\der th? hear**1 **' on he plodded, kicking up the soft snow with his toes ; bu a ll the erne the basket of pine-cones kept growing heavier and heavier.
" Come," said he, at last, " I can carry this load no tether, some of the pine-cones must be left behind." So he opened the bas';^ to throw a parcel of them out. But —
Hi! how he did stare! for every one of those pine-cones ha turned to pure silver as white as the frost on the window-pane. After that L Wi < s f^ throwing none of them away, but for carrying all of them home, if h broke his back at it, and upon that you may depend.
"And I had them all for nothing," said he to his wife; "for the a, ar f gave them to me for what was in the bread-trough, and I knew very up that there was nothing there."
"Alas," said she, "what have you done! the baby is sleeping there, . has been sleeping there all the morning."
When the blacksmith heard this he scratched his head, and looking
and looked down, for he had burned his fingers with the hot end of 1 bargain after all. All the same, there was nothing left but to make the^ t that he could of it. So he took two or three of the silver pine-cones to t town and bought plenty to eat, and plenty to drink, and warm this wear into the bargain.
At the end of seven days up came the dwarf and knocked at the black smith's house.
" Well, and is the baby ready?" said he, " for I have come to fetch it."
But the blacksmith's wife begged and prayed and prayed and begged that the baby might be spared to her. " Let us keep it for seven years at least," said she, " for what can you want with a young baby in the house?"
Yes, that was very true. Young babies were troublesome things to have about the house, and the woman might keep it for seven years since she was anxious to do so. So off went the dwarf, and the woman had what she wanted, for seven years is a long time to put off our troubles.
But at the end of that time up came the dwarf a second time.
" Well, is the boy ready now?" said he, " for I have come to take him."
" Yes, yes," says the woman, " the boy is yours, but why not leave him for another seven years, for he is very young to be out in the world yet ?"
Yes, that was true, and so the dwarf put off taking him for seven years longer.
But when it had passed, back he came again, and this time it did no good for his mother and father to beg and pray, for he had put off his bargain long enough, and now he was for having what was his.
" All the same," says he to the blacksmith, " if you will come after five years to the place in the woods where you saw me, you shall have your son, if you choose to take him." And off he went with the lad at his heels.
Well, after five years had passed, the blacksmith went into the forest to find the dwarf and to bring back his son again.
There was the dwarf waiting for him, and in his hand he held a basket. " Well, neighbor," says he,' " and have you come to fetch your son again ?"
Yes, that was what the blacksmith wanted.
" Very well," says the dwarf, " here he is, and all that you have to do is to take him." He opened the basket, and inside was a wren, a thrush, and a dove.
" But which of the three is the lad?" says the blacksmith.
" That is for you to tell, neighbor," says the dwarf.
The blacksmith looked and looked, and first he thought it might be the wren, and then he thought it might be the thrush, and then he thought it might be the dove. But he was afraid to choose any one of the three, lest he should not be right in the choosing. So he shook his head and sighed, and was forced at last to go away with empty hands.
Out by the edge of the forest sat an old woman spinning flax from a distaff.
" Whither away, friend ?" said she, " and why do you wear such a sorrow ful face?"
The blacksmith stopped and told her the whole story from beginning to end. "Tut!" said the old woman, "you should have chosen the dove, fof that was your son for sure and certain."
" There !" said the blacksmith, " if I had only known that in the first place it would have saved me so much leg wear," and back he went, hot foot, to find the dwarf and to get his son again.
There was the dwarf waiting for him with a basket on his arm, but this time it was a sparrow and a magpie and a lark that were in it, and the
blacksmith might take which of the three he liked, for one of them was his own son.
The man looked and looked, and could make nothing of it, so all that he could do was to shake his head and turn away again with empty hands.
Out by the edge of the forest sat the old woman spinning. "Prut!" says she, " you should have chosen the lark, for it was your son for sure and certain. But listen ; go back and try again ; look each bird in the eyes, and choose where you find tears ; for nothing but the human soul weeps."
Back went the man into the forest for the third time, and there was the dwarf just as before, only this time it was a sparrow and a jackdaw and a raven that he had in his basket.
The man looked at each of the three in turn, and there were tears in the raven's eyes.
" This is the one I choose," said he, and he snatched it and ran. And it was his son and none other whom he held.
As for the dwarf, he stood and stamped his feet and tore his hair, but that was all he could do, for one must abide by one's bargain, no matter what happens.
You can guess how glad the father and the mother were to have their son back home again. But the lad just sat back of the stove and warmed his shins, and stared into the Land of Nowhere, without doing a stroke of work from morning till night. At last the father could stand it no longer, for, though one is glad to have one's own safe under the roof at home, it is another thing to have one's own doing nothing the livelong day but sit back of the stove and eat good bread and meat; for the silver pine-cones were gone by this time, and good things were no more plentiful in the blacksmith's house than they had been before.
" Come!" says he to lazy-boots one day, " is there nothing at all that you can do to earn the salt you eat ?"
" Oh, yes," said the lad, " I have learned many things, and one over at the dwarf's house yonder, for the dwarf is a famous blacksmith." So out he came from behind the stove, and brushed the ashes from his hair, and went out into the forge.
" Give me a piece of iron," says he, " and I will show you a trick or two worth the knowing."
" Yes," says the blacksmith, " you shall have the iron; all the same I know that it is little or nothing that you know about the hammer and the tongs."
But the young fellow answered nothing. He made a bed of hot coals, and laid the iron in it.
" Here," said he to his father, " do you blow the bellows till I come back, and be sure that you do not stop for so much as a wink, or else all will be spoiled." So he gave the handle into the blacksmith's hand and off he went.
The old man blew the bellows and blew the bellows, but the dwarf over in the forest knew what was being done as well as though he stood in the forge. He was not for letting the lad steal his tricks if he could help it. So he changed himself into a great fly, and came and lit on the blacksmith's neck, and bit him till the blood ran ; but the blacksmith just shut his eyes tight, and grinned and bore it, and blew the bellows and blew the bellows.
By and by the lad came in, and the fly flew away. He drew the iron out of the fire, and dipped it in the water, and what do you think it was ? Why, a golden tree with a little golden bird sitting in the branches, with bright jewels for its eyes.
The lad drew a little silver wand from his pocket, and gave the tree a tap, and the bird began to hop from branch to branch, and to sing so sweetly that it made one's heart stand still to listen to it.
As for the blacksmith, he just stood and gaped and stared, with his mouth and eyes as wide open as if they never would shut again.
Now there was no king in that country, but a queen who lived in a grand castle on a high hill, and was as handsome a one as ever a body's eyes looked upon.
" Here," says the lad to his father, " take this up to the queen at the castle yonder, and she will pay you well for it." Then he went and sat down back of the stove again, and toasted his shins and stared at nothing at all.
Up went the blacksmith to the queen's castle with the golden bird and the golden tree wrapped up in his pocket-handkerchief. Dear, dear, how the queen did look and listen and wonder, when she saw how pretty it was, and heard how sweetly the little golden bird sang. She cattfe^l her steward and bade him give the blacksmith a whole bag of gold and silver money for it, and off went the man as pleased as pleased could be.
And now they lived upon the very best of good things over at the blacksmith's house; but good things cost money, and by and by the last penny was spent of what the queen had given him, and nothing would do
but for the lad to go out and work a little while at the forge. So up he got from back of the stove, and out he went into the forge. He made a bed of coals and laid the iron upon it.
" Now," says he to his father, " do you blow the bellows till I come back," and off he went.
Well, the old man took the handle and blew and blew, but the dwarf knew what was going on this time, just as well as he had done before. He changed himself into a fly, and came and lit on the blacksmith's neck, and dear, dear, how he did bite ! The blacksmith shut his eyes and grinned, but at last he could bear it no longer. He raised his hand and slapped at the fly, but away it flew with never a hair hurt.
In came the lad and drew the iron out of the fire and plunged it into the water, and there it was a beautiful golden comb that shone like fire. But the lad was not satisfied with that. " You should have done as I told you," said he, " and have stopped at nothing; for now the work is spoiled."
The blacksmith vowed and declared that he had not stopped from blowing the bellows, but the lad knew better than that; for there should have been a golden looking-glass as well as the comb. The one was of no use without the other, for when one looked in the golden looking-glass, and combed one's hair with the golden comb, one grew handsomer every day, and the lad had intended both for the queen.
" All the same," said the old man, " I will take the golden comb up to the castle;" and it did no good for the lad to shake his head and say no. " For," says the father, " old heads are wise heads ; and the queen will like this as well as the other." So up to the castle he would go, and up to the castle he went.
But when the queen saw the golden comb her brows grew as black as a thunder-storm. " Where is the looking-glass?" said she; and though the old man vowed and declared that no looking-glass belonged with the comb, she knew a great deal better. So, now, the blacksmith might have his choice; he should either bring her the looking-glass that belonged to the golden comb or bring her that which was the best in all the world. If he did neither of these he should be thrown into a deep pit full of toads and vipers.
Back went the old man home again and told the lad all that had happened from beginning to end. And then he wanted to know what he should do to get himself out of his pickle.
Well, it was no easy task to make what the queen wanted ; all the same, the lad would try what he could do. So he rolled up his sleeves and out he went into the forge and laid a piece of iron upon the bed of hot coals.
This time he would not trust the old man to blow the bellows for him, but took the handle into his own hand and blew and blew.
The dwarf knew what was happening this time as well as before. He changed himself into a fly and came and sat on the lad's forehead, and bit until the blood ran down into his eyes and blinded him; but the lad blew the bello\vs and blew the bellows.
First the fire burned red, and then it burned white, and then it burned blue, and after that the work was done.
Then the young man raised his hand and struck the fly and killed it, and that was an end of the dwarf for good and all.
What he had made he dipped into the water and it was a gold ring, nothing less nor more. He took a sharp knife and drew charms upon it, and inside of the circle he wrote these words:
" WHO WEARS THIS SHALL HAVE THE BEST THAT THE WORLD HAS TO GIVE."
" Here," said the lad to his father, " take this up to the queen, for it is what she wants, and there is nothing better in the world."
Off marched the old man and gave the ring to the queen, and she slipped it on her finger.
That was how the blacksmith saved his own skin; but the poor queen did nothing but just sit and look out of the window, and sigh and sigh.
After a while she called her steward to her and bade him go over and tell the blacksmith's son to come to her.
There sat the lad back of the stove. " Prut!" said he, " she must send a better than you if she would have me come to her." So the steward had just to go back to the castle again and tell the queen what the lad had said.
Then the queen called her chief minister to her. " Do you go," said she, " and bid the lad come to me."
There sat the lad back of the stove. " Prut!" said he, " she must send a better than you if she would have me come to her."
Off went the minister and told the queen what he had said, and the
queen saw as plain as the nose on her face that she must go herself if she would have the lad come at her bidding.
There sat the lad back of the stove. And would he come with her now ?
Yes, indeed, that he would. So he slipped from behind the stove and took her by the hand, and they walked out of the house and up to her castle on the high hill, for that was where he belonged now. There they were married, and ruled the land far and near. For it is one thing to be a blacksmith of one kind, and another thing to be a blacksmith of another kind, and that is the truth, whether you believe it or not.
And did the queen really get the best in the world ? Bless your heart, my dear, wait until you are as old as I am, and have been married as long, and you will be able to answer that question without the asking.
