Chapter III (8)

When the sun mounted higher, Eliza saw before her, half floating in the air, a mountainous country with shining masses of ice on its water, and in the midst of it rose a castle, apparently a mile long, with row above row of elegant columns, while beneath waved the palm woods and bright flowers as large as mill-wheels. She asked if this was the country to which they were bound, but the swans shook their heads, for what she beheld was the gorgeous, everchanging palace of Fata Morgana, and into this they might bring no human being. As Eliza gazed at it, mountains, woods, and castle fell down, and twenty proud churches, all nearly alike, with high towers and pointed windows, stood before them. She fancied she heard the organs sounding, but it was the sea she heard. When she was quite near the churches they changed to a fleet sailing beneath her, but when she looked down it was only a sea mist gliding over the ocean. Thus she had a continual change before her eyes, till at last she saw the real land to which they were bound. There arose the most glorious blue mountains, with cedar forests, cities, and palaces. Long before the sun went down she sat on the rock, in front of a great cave overgrown with delicate green trailing plants looking like embroidered carpets.

"Now we shall see what you will dream of here to-night," said the youngest brother; and he showed her to her bed-chamber.

"Heaven grant that I may dream of a way to release you," she replied.

And this thought possessed her mightily, and she prayed ardently for help; yes, even in her sleep she continued to pray. Then it seemed to her as if she were flying high in the air to the cloudy palace of Fata Morgana; and the fairy came out to meet her, beautiful and radiant; and yet the fairy was quite like the old woman who had given her the berries in the wood, and had told her of the swans with golden crowns on their heads.

"Your brothers can be released," said she. "But have you courage and perseverance? Certainly, water is softer than your delicate hands, and yet it changes the shape of stones but it feels not the pain that your fingers will feel; it has no heart, and cannot suffer the agony and torment you will have to endure. Do you see the stinging nettle which I hold in my hand? Many of the same kind grow around the cave in which you sleep: those only, and those that grow upon churchyard graves, are serviceable, remember that. Those you must pluck, though they will burn your hands into blisters. Break these nettles to pieces with your feet, and you will have flax; of this you must plait and weave eleven shirts of mail with long sleeves: throw these over the eleven swans, and the charm will be broken. But recollect well, from the moment you begin this work until it is finished, even though it should take years to accomplish, you must not speak. The first word you utter will pierce your brothers' hearts like a deadly dagger. Their lives hang on your tongue. Remember all this!"

And she touched her hand with the nettle; it was like a burning fire, and Eliza awoke with the smart. It was broad daylight; and close by the spot where she had slept lay a nettle like the one she had seen in her dream. She fell upon her knees and prayed gratefully, and went forth from the cave to begin her work.

With her delicate hands she groped among the ugly nettles. These stung like fire, burning great blisters on her arms and hands; but she thought she would bear it gladly if she could only release her dear brothers. Then she bruised every nettle with her bare feet and plaited the green flax.

When the sun had set her brothers came, and they were frightened when they found her dumb. They thought it was some new sorcery of their wicked stepmother's; but when they saw her hands, they understood what she was doing for their sake, and the youngest brother wept. And where his tears dropped she felt no more pain and the burning blisters vanished.

She passed the night at her work, for she could not sleep till she had delivered her dear brothers. The whole of the following day, while the swans were away, she sat in solitude, but never had time flown so quickly with her as now. One shirt of mail was already finished, and now she began the second.

Then a hunting horn sounded among the hills, and she was struck with fear. The noise came nearer and nearer; she heard the barking dogs, and timidly she fled into the cave, bound into a bundle the nettles she had collected and prepared, and sat upon the bundle.

Immediately a great dog came bounding out of the ravine, and then another, and another: they barked loudly, ran back, and then came again. Only a few minutes had gone before all the huntsmen stood before the cave, and the handsomest of them was the King of the country. He came forward to Eliza, for he had never seen a more beautiful maiden.

"How did you come hither, you delightful child?" he asked.

Eliza shook her head, for she might not speak--it would cost her brothers their deliverance and their lives. And she hid her hands under her apron, so that the King might not see what she was suffering.

"Come with me," said he. "You cannot stop here. If you are as good as you are beautiful, I will dress you in velvet and silk, and place the golden crown on your head, and you shall dwell in my richest castle, and rule."

And then he lifted her on his horse. She wept and wrung her hands; but the King said:

"I only wish for your happiness: one day you will thank me for this."

And then he galloped away among the mountains with her on his horse, and the hunters galloped at their heels.

When the sun went down, the fair regal city lay before them, with its churches and cupolas; and the King led her into the castle, where great fountains plashed in the lofty marble halls, and where walls and ceilings were covered with glorious pictures. But she had no eyes for all this--she only wept and mourned. Passively she let the women put royal robes upon her, and weave pearls in her hair, and draw dainty gloves over her blistered fingers.

When she stood there in full array, she was dazzlingly beautiful, so that the Court bowed deeper than ever. And the King chose her for his bride, although the archbishop shook his head and whispered that the beauteous fresh maid was certainly a witch, who blinded the eyes and led astray the heart of the King.

But the King gave no ear to this, but ordered that the music should sound, and the costliest dishes should be served, and the most beautiful maidens should dance before them. And she was led through fragrant gardens into gorgeous halls; but never a smile came upon her lips or shone in her eyes; there she stood, a picture of grief. Then the King opened a little chamber close by, where she was to sleep. This chamber was decked with splendid green tapestry, and completely resembled the cave in which she had been. On the floor lay the bundle of flax which she had prepared from the nettles, and under the ceiling hung the shirt of mail she had completed. All these things one of the huntsmen had brought with him as curiosities.

"Here you may dream yourself back in your former home," said the King. "Here is the work which occupied you there, and now, in the midst of all your splendor, it will amuse you to think of that time."

When Eliza saw this that lay so near her heart, a smile played round her mouth and the crimson blood came back into her cheeks. She thought of her brothers' deliverance, and kissed the King's hand; and he pressed her to his heart, and caused the marriage feast to be announced by all the church bells. The beautiful dumb girl out of the wood became the Queen of the country.

Then the archbishop whispered evil words into the King's ear, but they did not sink into the King's heart. The marriage was to take place; the archbishop himself was obliged to place the crown on her head, and with wicked spite he pressed the narrow circlet so tightly upon her brow that it pained her. But a heavier ring lay close around her heart--sorrow for her brothers; she did not feel the bodily pain. Her mouth was dumb, for a single word would cost her brothers their lives, but her eyes glowed with love for the kind, handsome King, who did everything to rejoice her. She loved him with her whole heart, more and more every day. Oh, that she had been able to confide in him and to tell him of her grief; but she was compelled to be dumb, and to finish her work in silence. Therefore at night she crept away from his side, and went quietly into the little chamber which was decorated like the cave, and wove one shirt of mail after another. But when she began the seventh she found that she had no flax left.

She knew that in the churchyard nettles were growing that she could use; but she must pluck them herself, and how was she to go out there unseen?

"Oh, what is the pain in my fingers to the torment my heart endures?" thought she. "I must venture it, and help will not be denied me!"

With a trembling heart, as though the deed she purposed doing had been evil, she crept into the garden in the moonlight night, and went through the lanes and through the deserted streets to the churchyard. There, on one of the broadest tombstones she saw sitting a circle of lamias. These hideous wretches took off their ragged garments, as if they were going to bathe; then with their skinny fingers they clawed open the fresh graves, and with fiendish greed they snatched up the corpses and ate the flesh. Eliza was obliged to pass close by them and they fastened their evil glances upon her; but she prayed silently, and collected the burning nettles, and carried them into the castle.

Only one person had seen her, and that was the archbishop. He was awake while others slept. Now he felt sure his opinion was correct, that all was not as it should be with the Queen; she was a witch.

In secret he told the King what he had seen and what he feared; and when the hard words came from his tongue, the pictures of saints in the cathedral shook their heads, as though they could have said: "It is not so! Eliza is innocent!" But the archbishop interpreted this differently--he thought they were bearing witness against her, and shaking their heads at her sinfulness. Then two heavy tears rolled down the King's cheeks; he went home with doubt in his heart, and at night pretended to be asleep; but no real sleep came upon his eyes, for he noticed that Eliza got up. Every night she did this, and each time he followed her silently, and saw how she disappeared from her chamber.

From day to day his face became darker. Eliza saw it, but did not understand the reason; but it frightened her--and what did she not suffer in her heart for her brothers? Her hot tears flowed upon the royal velvet and purple; they lay there like sparkling diamonds, and all who saw the splendor wished they were Queens. In the meantime she had almost finished her work. Only one shirt of mail was still to be completed, but she had no flax left, and not a single nettle. Once more, for the last time, therefore, she must go to the churchyard, only to pluck a few handfuls. She thought with terror of this solitary wandering and of the horrible lamias, but her will was firm as her trust in Providence.

Eliza went on, but the King and the archbishop followed her. They saw her vanish into the churchyard through the wicket gate; and when they drew near, the lamias were sitting upon the gravestones as Eliza had seen them; and the King turned aside, for he fancied her among them, whose head had rested against his breast that very evening.

"The people must condemn her," said he.

And the people condemned her to suffer death by fire.

Out of the gorgeous regal halls she was led into a dark damp cell, where the wind whistled through the grated window; instead of velvet and silk they gave her the bundle of nettles which she had collected: on this she could lay her head; and the hard burning coats of mail which she had woven were to be her coverlet. But nothing could have been given her that she liked better. She resumed her work and prayed. Without, the street boys were singing jeering songs about her, and not a soul comforted her with a kind word.

But toward evening there came the whirring of swans' wings close by the grating--it was the youngest of her brothers. He had found his sister, and she sobbed aloud with joy, though she knew that the approaching night would probably be the last she had to live. But now the work was almost finished, and her brothers were here.

Now came the archbishop, to stay with her in her last hour, for he had promised the King to do so. And she shook her head, and with looks and gestures she begged him to depart, for in this night she must finish her work, or else all would be in vain, all her tears, her pain, and her sleepless nights. The archbishop withdrew, uttering evil words against her; but poor Eliza knew she was innocent, and diligently continued her work.

The little mice ran about the floor; they dragged the nettles to her feet, to help as well as they could; and a thrush sat outside the grating of the window, and sang to her the whole night long, as sweetly as possible, to keep up her courage.

It was still twilight; not till an hour afterward would the sun rise. And the eleven brothers stood at the castle gate, and demanded to be brought before the King. That could not be, they were told, for it was still almost night; the King was asleep, and might not be disturbed. They begged, they threatened, and the sentries came, yes, even the King himself came out, and asked what was the meaning of this. At that moment the sun rose and no more were the brothers to be seen, but eleven wild swans flew away over the castle.

All the people came flocking out at the town gate, for they wanted to see the witch burned. The old horse drew the cart on which she sat. They had put upon her a garment of coarse sackcloth. Her lovely hair hung loose about her beautiful head; her cheeks were as pale as death; and her lips moved silently, while her fingers were engaged with the green flax. Even on the way to death she did not interrupt the work she had begun; the ten shirts of mail lay at her feet, and she wrought at the eleventh. The mob derided her.

"Look at the red witch, how she mutters! She has no hymn-book in her hand; no, there she sits with her ugly sorcery--tear it in a thousand pieces!"

And they all pressed upon her, and wanted to tear up the shirts of mail. Then eleven wild swans came flying up, and sat round about her on the cart, and beat with their wings; and the mob gave way before them, terrified.

"That is a sign from heaven! She is certainly innocent!" whispered many. But they did not dare to say it aloud.

Now the executioner seized her by the hand; then she hastily threw the eleven shirts over the swans, and immediately eleven handsome Princes stood there. But the youngest had a swan's wing instead of an arm, for a sleeve was wanting to his shirt--she had not quite finished it.

"Now I may speak!" she said. "I am innocent!"

And the people who saw what happened bowed before her as before a saint; but she sank lifeless into her brother's arms, such an effect had suspense, anguish, and pain upon her.

"Indeed, she is innocent," said the eldest brother.

And now he told everything that had taken place; and while he spoke a fragrance arose as of millions of roses, for every piece of faggot in the pile had taken root and was sending forth shoots; and a fragrant hedge stood there, tall and great, covered with red roses, and at the top a flower, white and shining, gleaming like a star. This flower the King plucked and placed in Eliza's bosom; and she awoke with peace and happiness in her heart.

And all the church bells rang of themselves, and the birds came in great flocks. And back to the castle such a marriage procession was held as no King had ever seen.

TAPER TOM

In a certain kingdom there was a very beautiful Princess, but she was so sad that no one could make her laugh; she would not even smile, though all in the court were gay and happy.

For a long time her father tried hard to find something that would amuse her. But she would sit all day at her window, and, though the members of the court passed and repassed, and called out greetings to her, she would only sigh.

So at last her father the King caused it to be published abroad that whoever should make the Princess laugh should have her hand in marriage, and that half of the kingdom would be her dowry.

But, that none might attempt this difficult feat without fair assurance, the King added as a sort of postscript to his decree that whoever tried to make the Princess laugh and failed should have two broad red stripes cut in his back, and salt should be rubbed into the stripes!

Now, as you may imagine, soon there were a great many sore backs in the kingdom and in the kingdoms round about. For it was deemed but a slight matter to make a Princess laugh: did not women giggle at little and at nothing?

But, although many came, and there were strange things done, the Princess remained as sad as before.

Now, there was in the kingdom a farmer who had three sons, and they decided that each should have a trial at this task; for to win a dowry of half a kingdom was well worth trying.

The oldest of the farmer's sons was a soldier, and had served in the wars, where there was always much laughter. And he said that it would not be worth while for his two brothers to plan to journey to the court, because he intended to win the Princess that very first day.

So he dressed up in his uniform, and put his knapsack on his back, and strutted up and down the road in front of the window of the Princess like any pouter-pigeon. But, though the Princess looked at him, once, she did not even turn her eyes in his direction a second time, and the stripes which were cut in his back were deep and broad, and he went home feeling very sore.

His next brother was a schoolmaster, and had one long leg and one short leg, so that when he stood on the long leg he seemed a very tall man, and when he stood on the short leg he seemed but a dwarf, and he had always found that he could make folk laugh by quickly changing himself from a tall man to a mere dwarf. Moreover, he was a preacher, and he came out on the road in front of the Princess' window and preached like seven parsons and chanted like seven clerks; but it was all for naught, for after the first glance the Princess did not even look at him, though the King who stood near had to hold on to the pillars for laughing.

So the schoolmaster also went home with a very sore back; and when the third brother, whose name was Taper Tom, because he sat in the ashes and made tapers out of fir, said he now would go and make the Princess laugh, the two older brothers turned to him in scorn, for how could he do what neither of them, the soldier and the schoolmaster, had quite failed to do? The Princess would not even look at him, he might be sure.

But Taper Tom said that he would try.

But when he came to the court he did not go before the King to say that he had come to make the Princess laugh. Many there were who were trying that each day, and there was hardly a well back in all the kingdom by now, and Taper Tom had no mind to have his own back cut, for they were cutting the stripes broader and rubbing the salt in harder every day.

So Taper Tom went to the court and asked for work to do. They told him that there was no work to be done, but he said:

"What, no work--even in the kitchen? I am sure that the cook needs some one to fetch and carry for her."

"Well, now," said the lord high chamberlain, "that might perhaps be. You may go to the kitchen and see."

So Taper Tom went to the kitchen and the cook gave him work fetching and carrying. And every day Taper Tom saw the men who came and went away with their backs sore.

One morning he was sent to the stream to catch a fish, and he caught a nice, fat one. As he came back he met a woman leading a goose with golden feathers by a string tied around its neck.

The old woman wanted a fish, so she asked Taper Tom if he would trade the fish for the golden goose. "For," she said, "it is a very strange goose. If you lead it about and anyone lays hands on it, and you say, 'Hang on, if you care to come with us,' he will have to hang on and go with the goose wherever you lead."

"Then," said Taper Tom, "you may have my fish and I will take your goose."

So the old woman took the fish, and Taper Tom took the end of the string in his hand, and the goose followed after.

He had not gone far when he met a goody who looked longingly at the goose with the golden feathers, and at last she said to Taper Tom: "That is a very fine goose, and I would like to stroke it."

"All right," said Taper Tom.

So the goody laid her hand on the back of the goose, and Taper Tom said: "Hang on, if you care to go with us." And the old woman could not take her hands off the goose, no matter how hard she tried.

They went on down the road a way and came to a man who for a long time had hated the goody, and he laughed loudly to see her hanging on to the goose and trying so hard to let go; and thinking to make more difficulty for her he lifted up his foot and kicked at her.

As his foot touched her dress Taper Tom said: "Hang on, if you care to come with us." And the man's foot hung on to the dress of the goody, and, try as hard as he would, he could not let go. He had to follow, hopping on one foot all the while, and falling often and being dragged. He was very angry, and said a great many bad words.

As they passed the blacksmith shop the brawny smith stood at the door, and when he saw Taper Tom leading the goose, and the goody hanging on to its back, and the man following, hopping on one leg, he began to laugh very much, and ran up to the man and struck him with his bellows, which he held in his hand.

And as the bellows touched the man, Taper Tom said: "Hang on, if you care to come with us." And the smith had to follow after the man, for, try as he would, he could not let go of the bellows, nor would the bellows let go of the man.

Then Taper Tom turned in on the road that lay in front of the window of the Princess, and though he did not look up, he knew that the Princess was watching.

And when the Princess saw the boy leading the golden goose, and the goody hanging on to the back of the goose, and the man hopping on one leg behind the goody, and the smith hanging on to his bellows, she smiled inwardly, but she did not laugh.

Taper Tom did not stop, but went on around to the kitchen; and when the cook came out to ask for her fish, with her pot and ladle in her hand, and she saw the golden goose, and the goody, and the man, and the smith, she began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, so that all the court came out to see what had happened, and the Princess leaned from her window to know what it was all about.

And just then the cook's ladle touched the shoulder of the smith, and at that moment Taper Tom said: "Hang on, if you care to come with us."

And he turned and started back past the window of the Princess. And when the Princess saw the cook hanging on to the shoulder of the smith, with her ladle and her pot in her hand, and trying hard to get loose, and the smith hanging on with his bellows to the coat of the man, and the man hanging on with one foot to the goody, and the goody with her hands on the back of the golden goose, and the golden goose following Taper Tom, led by a string, she began to laugh and to laugh and to laugh.

Then the King proclaimed that Taper Tom should wed the Princess, and that half the kingdom would be her dowry.

THE BOY WHO WENT TO THE NORTH WIND

"Go you now to the safe and get some meal," said the mother of the Boy. "And mind that you carry it carefully, for there is but little left."

So the Boy went to the safe to get the meal, but as he came back with it the North Wind blew it away, and he went home empty-handed, and there was no meal in the house that day.

The next morning the mother sent the Boy to the safe again, and once more the North Wind came and took the meal.

On the third day it was as before. Then the Boy said: "I will go to the North Wind and demand that he give back my meal, for we have nothing to eat in the house."

So the boy started and went far, far to the country where the North Wind abode; and when he had come there the North Wind said:

"I give you greeting and thanks for your coming. What can I do for you?"

The Boy answered: "I give you back your greeting, and I am come for the meal which you have taken away from me, for we have none left in the house."

Then he told how for three days the North Wind had come and taken the meal as he returned with it from the safe, and now there was nothing to eat in the house.

"I have not got your meal," said the North Wind, "but I will give you a magic cloth which, whenever you say to it, 'Cloth, serve forth a dinner,' will provide you with all that you can eat and drink in a moment."

So the boy took the cloth and started for his home, but as he had a long way to go he stopped over night at an inn, and, being hungry, and wanting to test the cloth, he sat down at a table and unfolded it before him, saying: "Cloth, serve forth a dinner." Immediately there was served upon the cloth all sorts of good things to eat--such food as the Boy had never eaten before in his life.

"It is indeed a magic cloth," said the Boy, when, the dinner eaten, he folded the cloth carefully and put it under his pillow before he slept.

Now, the inn-keeper had been a witness to the thing which had happened, and had heard the words which the Boy said to the cloth, so he decided that he must possess so wonderful a thing as that, for it would save him much labor. Accordingly, after the Boy had gone to sleep, he stole quietly into the room and slipped the wallet from under the Boy's pillow and put into it a cloth of his own exactly like it.

When the Boy reached home the next day his mother asked him if he had been to the North Wind, and if he had brought back the meal.

The Boy said: "The North Wind was glad to see me, and thanked me for coming, but said he did not have the meal. Instead, he gave me a magic cloth, so that we need never be hungry again, for it will serve us a dinner at any time we bid it."

So he took the cloth from his wallet and unfolded it on the table, as he had done at the inn, and said: "Cloth, serve forth a dinner." But, as it was not a magic cloth, nothing happened.

Then the Boy said that he would go again to the North Wind and tell him that his cloth would not do as it was bidden. So he journeyed far to the home of the North Wind, and the North Wind said: "I give you greeting and thanks for your coming. What can I do for you?"

Then the boy told him how he had come before to ask him for the meal which the North Wind had taken, and the North Wind had given him a magic cloth which should serve forth a dinner when it was bidden; but that, though at the inn the cloth had served forth a dinner, when he reached his home it had not done so, and there was nothing to eat in the house.

Then said the North Wind: "I have no meal to give you, but I will give you a ram which, whenever you say to it, 'Ram, Ram, coin money,' will coin gold ducats before you."

So the Boy took the ram and started for home; but as it was a long way he stopped at the same inn on his way home, and being anxious to try the skill of the ram, and needing to pay his bill to the inn-keeper he said to it: "Ram, Ram, coin money." And the ram coined golden ducats until the Boy told it to stop.

"Now," thought the observing inn-keeper, "this is a famous ram indeed. I must have this ram, and I will not need to work at all."

So when the Boy had gone to bed, leaving the ram safely tied in his room, the inn-keeper slipped in quietly, leading another ram which could not coin ducats, which he left in place of the ram which the North Wind had given to the Boy.

And when the Boy reached home his mother asked him if he had brought back the meal this time. And the Boy answered: "The North Wind was glad to see me, and thanked me for coming, but he said that he did not have the meal. But he gave me a ram, which, when I bid it, 'Ram, Ram, coin money,' coins golden ducats, so that we will not be hungry any more, for we can buy what we need."

Then he led forth the ram into the room and said to it: "Ram, Ram, coin money." And the ram, not being a magic ram, did nothing but stand in the middle of the room and stare at him.

Now the Boy was angry, and he said: "I will go to the North Wind and tell him that his ram is worth nothing, and that I want my rights for the meal which he has taken."

So back he went to the North Wind, and when he had told his story the North Wind said: "I have nothing that I can give you but that old stick in the bag yonder. But when you say to it, 'Stick, come forth and lay on,' it lays on unceasingly until you say to it, 'Stick, stop.'"

So the Boy took the bag with the stick right willingly, for he had by this time a fair idea of the cause of his trouble; and he stopped that night at the inn as he had done before. Though he did not call forth his magic stick, the inn-keeper knew by the way in which he cared for his bag that he had some special treasure, and decided that the Boy was a simple fellow, and that he must have this too, whatever it was in the bag.

So when the Boy had gone to his room the man slipped in quietly and reached his hand under the Boy's pillow, where the bag lay. But the Boy had not gone to sleep this time, and when he felt the hand under his pillow he said, "Stick, come forth and lay on."

And the stick came forth and began to lay on about the inn-keeper's head, and so hard did it strike that the inn-keeper soon besought the Boy to bid it stop--for the stick would respond only to the owner. But the Boy would not bid the stick to stop until the inn-keeper had been roundly punished for his stealings, and had promised to return the magic cloth and the magic ram. When he had these again in his possession the Boy bade the stick return to the bag, and the next morning he went on to his home.

And when he had laid the cloth on the table and said to it, "Cloth, serve forth a dinner," and the cloth had served forth a dinner, and he and his mother had eaten; and he had said to the ram, "Ram, Ram, coin money," and the ram had coined golden ducats until he bade it to stop; and he had put the stick in a safe place where it could always do his bidding, he and his mother had plenty, and were well paid for the meal which the North Wind had taken.

THE WONDERFUL IRON POT

Once upon a time a little boy and his mother lived together in a small brown house at the foot of a hill. They were very poor, for the boy's father was dead, and the rich man who lived at the top of the hill had taken everything that they had, except one cow.

At last it came that there was nothing in the house to eat, and the mother said: "Now we will have to sell the cow."

So she told the little boy to take the cow to town and sell it, and the boy put a rope around the cow's neck and started off down the road.

He had not gone far before he met a man with a cloak over him and carrying something under it. He asked the little boy where he was going, and the boy told him that there was nothing to eat in the house and he was trying to sell the cow.

"Will you sell her to me?" asked the man.

"What will you give me for her?" asked the little boy.

"I will give you an iron pot," said the man.

Now, the little boy knew that he ought not to sell the cow for an iron pot, and he quickly said he would not, but as he spoke he heard a tiny voice under the man's cloak saying: "Buy me! Buy me!" So he told the stranger that he might have the cow.

The man took the rope in his hands, and gave the little boy the iron pot, and he took it and went home again.

"And what did you get for the cow?" asked his mother.

By this time the boy was very much ashamed of having sold the cow for an iron pot, and he hung his head when his mother asked him what he had gotten. They were about to throw the pot away, for, as the mother said, there was nothing to cook in it, when they heard a tiny voice say: "Put me over the fire and put in water."

So the mother put the little pot over the fire and put in water, which, indeed, was all that she had to put in. And soon the water in the pot began to bubble and to boil, and the little pot said: "I skip! I skip!"

"How far do you skip, little Pot?" asked the mother.

"I skip to the house of the rich man at the top of the hill," said the pot.

And the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the house of the rich man at the top of the hill, and it skipped right into the kitchen of the rich man's house where his wife was making a pudding. All at once she looked up and saw the little iron pot on the table, where it had skipped in at the window, and right in front of her, and she said:

"Oh, where did you come from, little Pot? You are just what I want to put my pudding in."

So she put the pudding into the little iron pot, and as soon as the pudding was in and safely covered up, the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, down the hill, and though the farmer's wife ran after, she could not catch it, and away it went straight to the little brown house at the bottom of the hill.

So the little boy and his mother had pudding to eat for dinner.

The next morning the little pot begged to be put on the fire, and as soon as the water began to bubble and to boil, it called, "I skip! I skip!"

"How far do you skip, little Pot?" asked the mother.

"I skip to the barn of the rich man at the top of the hill," said the little pot.

And the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the barn of the rich man at the top of the hill. And in the barn the thrashers were thrashing the wheat, and the little pot skipped right out on the thrashing floor.

"Oh," said one of the men, "Where did you come from, little Pot? You are just the thing to hold some of this wheat."

So the man began pouring the wheat into the pot, and poured and poured until the little pot seemed quite full, but still there was room, so the man poured until all the wheat was in the pot.

Then the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, out of the barn and out on the road. And though all of the men ran after it they could not catch it, and it skipped down the hill to the little brown house.

So the little boy and his mother had plenty of white bread to eat.

The next morning the little pot begged to be put on the fire, and as soon as the water began to bubble and to boil it began to skip, skip, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the bank of the rich man, and it skipped right into the window where the rich man sat with all his money spread out on his desk. And as he counted he looked up and saw the little iron pot standing in front of him, and he said, "Where did you come from, little Pot? You are just the thing for me to put my money into."

Then he began to pile his money into the iron pot, and though it was soon full there was yet more room, and he piled more and more, until at last all his money was in the iron pot. Then the little pot began to skip, skip, skippity skip, skippity skip, right out of the bank and down the street and straight on till it came to the little brown house at the bottom of the hill. And though the rich man ran after it he could not catch it, and so all the money that he had taken from the little boy and his mother was carried back to them in the little iron pot.

The next morning the little pot begged to be put on the fire again, and the mother said: "Why should you be put on the fire, little Pot? Have we not everything that we want?" But the little pot still wanted to be put on the fire; and at last, when the mother had put in the water and made the fire, and the water began to bubble and to boil, the little pot said: "I skip! I skip!"

And the mother said: "How far do you skip, little Pot?"

"I skip to the end of the world," said the little pot. And it began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the top of the hill, and there was the rich man hunting for his money. And when he saw the little iron pot he cried out: "There is the pot that stole my money!" And he caught up with the pot and put his hand into it to take out his money, but his hand could not find the money; so he put his head in to look for it, and he could not see it; next he climbed into the pot, and then it began to skip, skip, far away up the hill and up the mountain, and away to the end of the world.

THE SHEEP AND PIG WHO SET UP HOUSEKEEPING

Once upon a time a Sheep stood in a pen to be fattened for the winter's feast. He lived well, for he was given the best of everything, and he soon became so fat that one day the maid who came to bring his food said: "Eat full to-day, little Sheep, for to-morrow will come the killing and we shall eat you." And she shut the gate and went away.

"Oh," said the Sheep, "I have heard that, Women's words are worth heeding, and that, There is a cure and a physic for everything except death. There being no cure for that, it is best to find a way out of it."

So he ate up all the food that the maid had left for him, and then he butted hard against the gate of the pen, and it flew open, and the Sheep went out of the pen and out on the big road.

He followed the road to a neighboring farm, and made his way to a pigsty where was fastened a Pig that he had known on the common.

"Good day, and thanks for our last merry meeting!" said the Sheep. "Do you know why you are fed so well while you stay in this sty?"

"No, that I do not," said the Pig. "But I am very glad to get the good food and plenty of it, which they have been bringing to me since I was shut up."

"Ho, there is reason for that," said the Sheep. "Many a flask empties the cask. They want to make you very fat, for their purpose is to eat you at the winter's feasting."

"May they not forget to say grace after meat," said the Pig. "I can do naught to hinder their eating."

"If you will do as I do we will go off together into the woods and build a house and set up housekeeping," said the Sheep. "A home is a home, be it ever so homely."

So the Sheep and the Pig together butted down the pigsty, and started off on the big road together. "Good company is good comfort," said the Pig, as they trotted along.

As they entered the big woods they met a Goose, who had come out on the common.

"Good day, and thanks for our last merry meeting," said the Goose, "where are you going so fast?"

"You must know that we were too well off at home, and so we have set off into the woods to build a house and set up housekeeping," said the Sheep, "for, Every man's house is his castle, if he build it but big and strong enough."

"As for that," said the Goose, "all places are alike to me, but I should like to build a house; so if you like I will go with you, for, It's but child's play when three share the day."

"With gossip and gabble is built neither house nor stable!" said the Pig. "What can you do to help build the house?"

"By cunning and skill a cripple can do what he will," said the Goose. "I can gather moss to put into the crevices and cracks, and so make the house warm and comfortable."

Now, Piggy wanted above everything else to be warm and comfortable, so he said that the Goose might come along.

As the three journeyed on they met a Hare.

"Good day, and thanks for our last merry meeting," said the Hare; "where are you hurrying to so fast?"

Then the Sheep explained how they were too well off at home, and were going into the woods to build a house and set up housekeeping, "For," he said, "You may travel the world around, but there is no place like home."

"Oh," said the Hare, "for the matter of that, I have a home in every bush. But I have always thought that some day I would build a house, and I will go with you if you like."

"We could use you to scare away the dogs," said the Pig, "but you would be no good for anything else."

"He who lives long enough will always find work to do," said the Hare. "I have sharp teeth to gnaw the boards, and paws to hammer them fast. I can set up at any time for a carpenter, for, Good tools make good work, as the man said."

So he got leave to go, and there was no more said about it.

As they went deeper into the woods they met a Cock, who gave them greeting and asked where they were going.

Then the Sheep explained how they were too well off at home, and were going into the woods to build a house and set up housekeeping, "For," said the Sheep, "He who out of doors shall bake, loses at last both coal and cake."

"Well," said the Cock, "that is just my case, for, It's far better to sit on one's own perch, for then one can never be left in the lurch; besides, All cocks crow loudest at home. If I may have your leave, I will come with you."

But the Pig protested. "Flapping and crowing sets tongues a-going!" he exclaimed, "but, A jaw on a stick never yet laid a brick. How can you help us or make yourself useful?"

"Oh," said the Cock, "That house will never have a clock where there is neither dog nor cock. I will wake you up every morning, and will cry the alarm when the dawn arises."

"Very good," said the Pig, who was very like to oversleep. "Sleep is a greedy thief, and thinks nothing of robbing you of half your life. You may come with us."

So they all set off together into the woods, and at last they came to a good place and built the house. The Pig hewed the timber, and the Sheep drew it home; the Hare was the carpenter, and the Goose gathered moss and filled all of the cracks and crevices, and the Cock wakened them every morning early.

At last the house was done, and it was snug, and warm, and comfortable. "'Tis good to travel east and west, but, after all, a home is best," said the Sheep.

And they lived together until cold weather came, when they put up a stove to keep warm, and they planned to enjoy the long winter.

Now, not far off from the house lived the Wolf and his family, and his brother and his brother's family.

And the Wolf and his brother saw the house which the Sheep and the Pig and the Goose and the Hare and the Cock had builded, and they talked together of how warm and comfortable it was, and the Wolf decided that they must get acquainted with their new neighbors.

So he made up an errand and went to the door and said he had come to ask for a light to his pipe; and while the door was held open he pushed himself inside.

Then all at once he found himself in a great confusion, for the Sheep butted him so hard that he fell against the stove; and the Pig gored and bit him; and the Goose nipped and pecked him; and the Hare ran about over the house, now on the floor and now aloft, so that the Wolf did not know who or what he was, and was scared out of his wits, and all the time the Cock perched on a top beam and flapped his wings and crowed and crowed.

By-and-by the Wolf managed to get near the door and to dash through it.

"Neighborhood makes for brotherhood," said the Wolf's brother. "You must have made good friends, since you remained so long. But what became of your errand, for you have neither pipe nor smoke?"

"Nice life makes pleasant company," said the Wolf. "Such manners I never saw. For no sooner was I inside than the shoemaker flew at me with his last, and two smiths blew bellows and made the sparks fly, and beat and punched me with red-hot pincers, and tore great pieces out of my body, the hunter kept running about trying to find his gun, and it is well for me that he did not, for I should never have come out alive; and all the while a butcher sat up on a beam and flapped his arms and sang out to the others: 'Put a hook into him! Put a hook into him and drag him thither!' so it was all I could do to get out alive!"

"Well," said his brother, "we can't choose in this wicked world, and an unbidden guest sometimes gets bad treatment. But I think that we will be very well advised to let these new neighbors alone."

So the Wolf, and the Wolf's family, and the Wolf's brother and his brother's family, let the Sheep and the Pig and the Goose and the Hare and the Cock alone, and they lived very happily in their house in the woods.

DOLL-IN-THE-GRASS

Once upon a time there was a King who had twelve sons. These sons did not like to do useful things--they only liked to ride and to hunt in the woods, and to do what pleased them.

One day the King said: "You shall each one go forth into the world to seek a bride. But you must choose a bride who can do useful things--and, to prove it, she must be able to gather the flax and spin and weave a shirt all in one day. If she cannot do this, I will not accept her as my daughter-in-law."

So the sons set out on their errands, each riding a beautiful horse, and looking forward to having a great time out in the world while he hunted for his bride.

But the youngest son, Boots, was not popular with the others. So they said:

"Boots shall not go with us. We will not have him along--he will not do the things that we want to do."

So Boots drew rein on his horse, and the others rode out of sight.