Chapter IV: Part 4

No sooner had he done this, than he felt as though the strength of ten men had passed into him. It seemed to him as though he could tear up trees by the roots if he chose, or carry a mountain on his shoulders and think nothing of it.

When he came back, his mother was in a fine rage. “I ought to beat you for keeping me waiting all this time,” she cried, “and I would do it, too, if I were not so tired. Wherever we’re to sleep I’m sure I don’t know, for it’s too late now to get on to the next village.”

The boy answered nothing, but he trudged along at his mother’s side, and all the while he was feeling stronger and stronger.

After a while the old woman said she was tired, and she would have to sit down and rest a bit.

The lad asked leave to go to the top of a cliff close by, so as to look about and see whether he could not see a house somewhere near.

“Go if you choose,” said his mother, “but if you stay away as you did before, I’ll give you a good beating when you get back, however tired I am.”

The lad ran quickly to the top of the cliff and looked about him, and there, sure enough, off toward the North, he saw the light of a house, and it was not so very far away, either.

He ran down and told his mother what he had seen. “Mother, let us go there and ask for a bite to eat, for if we don’t, we’ll have to go hungry till to-morrow,” he cried. “And maybe the people who live there will let us spend the night there, too.”

The mother began to groan and lament. “Never in the world could I climb up that cliff and over,” said she. “I’m so tired I can scarce put one foot before the other, and that’s the truth of the matter.”

“Never bemoan yourself about that,” cried the lad, “for I’ll carry you over”; and so saying, he caught her up as though she weighed no more than a feather, and ran up the cliff and over, and down on the other side with her; and when he put her down he was not even breathing fast from carrying her.

“You’ve grown to be a strong, stout lad, and there’s no doubt about that,” said his mother.

After that they went along again until they came to the house with the light in it, and when they got up close to it, the mother began to shake and tremble.

“Come away! Come away!” said she. “This is a Troll’s house, and it would be a bad thing for us if he were to get hold of us.”

But the lad was not one whit afraid. He knocked at the door, and then, before any one could answer the knock, he opened the door and stepped inside, dragging his mother with him.

There, on a great settle by the fire, sat a man at least twenty feet high, and it was easy enough to tell by the look of him that he was a Troll.

The mother almost fainted with terror, but the lad spoke up as bold as bold could be, for he felt the strength inside of him and feared nobody. He told the Troll that he and his mother were footsore and weary, and he asked whether they might come in and rest a bit.

The Troll told him he and his mother were welcome, and then he made the lad sit down and they talked of one thing and another, but the woman was so frightened she just crept into a corner and groaned every time the Troll looked at her.

After a while the lad asked the Troll whether he could not give him and his mother a bite of supper, for they were hungry as well as weary.

Yes, the Troll could do that, too.

He went outside and came back with a whole load of wood in his arms, as much as two horses could haul. This he threw upon the fire and stirred it up into a blaze.

And now the woman began to shake and shiver as though she would fall to pieces, for she thought for sure the Troll was making ready to cook her and her son for supper; but instead he brought in a whole ox and put it over the fire to roast. When it was done, he took out a great silver platter from the cupboard, and the platter was so large that when he put the ox on it, not any part of the ox hung over the edge. He also set out on the table knives and forks, each six feet long, and a great hogshead for a drinking cup.

When all this was done, he said to the lad, “Draw up and eat and drink as you are able.”

The lad bade his mother come, too, but she would not, so he took up the knife and fork with no trouble at all to himself and cut a slice from the ox and carried it to her. After she had eaten, he lifted the hogshead down from the table, and then he carried her over to it and lowered her down into it so she could drink.

He himself, after he had eaten, climbed to the edge of the hogshead and hung himself over into it head downward, and drank till he was satisfied. After a while the Troll said he might as well have a bite of supper himself. So he went to the table and ate all that was left of the ox--the meat and the bones and the horns and hoofs of it--and drained off all that was in the hogshead at one draught.

Not long afterward it was time to go to bed, and the Troll did not know how to manage that.

“There’s only the bed I sleep in, and a cradle,” said the Troll.

But when the lad came to look at the cradle, it was as long and wide as any bed he had ever seen.

“This will do for me,” said he.

So it was settled that he should sleep in the cradle and his mother in the bed, though it was so enormous that she shook and shivered at the very thought of getting into it, and if she had had her choice, she would have stayed all night in the corner.

After they were all settled, the lad thought to himself, “I’d best stay awake and listen how things go on through the night, for there’s no knowing what this Troll may intend to do to us before morning.” But he lay there very quiet and kept his eyes shut, and now and then he snored a bit, so the Troll thought he was asleep.

Presently the Troll began to talk to the woman. “Do you think that lad of yours is asleep?” he asked of her.

“He must be from the way he’s snoring,” she answered.

“Then, listen,” said the Troll. “It has come into my head that you and I could live here very happily together if we could only get rid of him, for to tell you the truth I have no liking for the way he goes about things.”

“I’m sure I don’t know how you can do anything with him,” said the woman, “for he seems to have grown very strong all of a sudden.”

Oh, the Troll had a plan that would do for the lad. The next morning he would ask the woman and her son to stay there with him for a day or so, and she was to agree. Then sometime in the morning he would take the lad out to the quarry with him to get out some cornerstones, and once there, it would be easy enough in one way or another to send him down to the bottom of the quarry, and then roll a rock down on him and crush him.

To this plan the woman consented, and all the while they talked the boy lay there and listened, though he breathed with his mouth open as though he were still sleeping.

The next day the woman got up early and cooked breakfast for them, and after they had all eaten, the Troll said, wouldn’t she stay there and keep house for him for a day or so.

“There’s nothing to take me elsewhere,” answered the woman.

Not long after, the Troll took up a crowbar that he kept over in a corner.

“I’ll just go over to the quarry and get out a few cornerstones while you are cooking the dinner,” said he. He then asked the lad whether he would go along with him.

“Yes, and gladly,” answered the lad; so the two set out together.

They worked for awhile at the top of the quarry, and then the Troll told the lad to go down to the bottom of it and see whether there were any loose stones lying around down there.

The lad was willing to do that, too. He went on down toward the bottom of the quarry. No sooner was he gone than the Troll set to work with his crowbar. He worked so hard that he groaned and sweated, and presently he loosened a whole crag and sent it rolling down on the boy.

But the lad saw it coming and was ready for it. He put out his hands and stopped it until he could get out of the way, and then he let it roll on to the bottom. After that he went back to where the Troll was.

“I couldn’t find any loose rocks down there so now do you go down and look for some,” he said.

The Troll was frightened when he saw the lad had come back to the top of the quarry unharmed. He thought he would certainly have been crushed under the crag that had rolled down on him. Neither did the Troll want to go down there below, but he had to.

Then the lad took up the crowbar and pried out another crag, and it rolled down on the Troll and hurt him so that he could not move, but lay where he was groaning. The boy had to go down and roll the crag off him and pick him up and carry him back to the house, and all the while the Troll kept on groaning most terribly. When they got home, the lad put the Troll to bed and he was hurt so badly he had to lie there.

That night the lad stayed awake again and listened, and presently the Troll and the woman began to talk things over again.

“I tell you he’s a dangerous one,” said the woman, “and I’m sure I don’t see how you’re ever to get rid of him.”

“I have a brother,” said the Troll, “and he has a walled-in garden, and in the garden are twelve fierce lions. If we could find some excuse for getting the lad there, they would very quickly tear him to pieces.”

“Then I will find the excuse,” said the woman. “To-morrow I will say that I am very poorly, and that nothing in the world will cure me except a few drops of lions’ milk. Then you must tell about the lions in your brother’s garden, and I’ll beg and entreat him until he’ll agree to go off there to get some for me.”

This plan pleased the Troll, and it was settled between them that as she said so they would do.

The next morning the woman did not get up to cook the breakfast, but lay in bed, moaning.

“What ails you, mother?” asked the lad.

“Oh I’m ill. I’m very ill,” replied the woman.

“I’m sorry for that,” said her son, “but I’m sure I don’t know what would make you better.”

“If I had but a few drops of lions’ milk, that would cure me,” groaned the woman.

“That’s a hard thing to get,” replied the lad; “and if that’s the only thing to cure you, I fear you’ll be ailing a long time.”

Then the Troll spoke up and said he knew where such milk was to be had. “But it takes a brave heart and a strong arm to get it, and that’s the truth,” said the Troll. He then told about his brother’s walled-in garden and the lions that were in it, and he said that if any one had the courage to go for it, ’twas there the milk was to be had.

The woman at once began to beg and entreat the lad to go and get it for her. He did not say no. “Though,” said he, “I think it is but little good the milk will do you, and that’s the truth.”

The Troll told him exactly where the garden was, and he gave him a key to the gate of it, so he would have no trouble in getting in. The lad took the key and a milking pail, and off he set. The Troll and the woman had no other thought than that was the end of him.

On and on he went, one foot before the other, and after a while he came to the garden, and then he took out the key and unlocked the door and stepped inside.

No sooner had he done this than he saw twelve great lions, each one fiercer and larger than the other, and they came at him ramping and roaring so that he was almost deafened by the noise of it, and their teeth were terrible to see.

But the lad was no whit frightened. He caught hold of the foremost lion, and tore it in two, and scattered it in pieces all about him.

When the other lions saw that, all the fierceness went out of them, and they crawled to his feet, and fawned on him, and became as tame as dogs.

The lad patted them, and then he milked a few drops into the milk pail and started for home with it, but the lions would not be left behind. They followed after him close at his heels, as dogs follow their master.

After a while he came within sight of the Troll’s house, and at that very moment the woman happened to be looking out of the window, and there she saw him coming along, with the eleven lions following after him. Then she was terribly frightened, and she called to the Troll, and together they barred all the doors and windows, so the lions could not get in at them.

The lad came to the door and tried to open it, and when he found it was fastened, he called to them to let him in, but they would not until he made the lions lie down outside, and promised they should stay there.

When he went in, there stood his mother shaking and trembling.

“Well, mother, here is the lions’ milk,” he said, “and I’m sure I hope it may make you well again.”

The woman was obliged to drink the milk, though she did not want it.

That night the Troll and she began talking together after they thought the lad was sleeping. But he was wide awake and heard all they said between them, though they spoke in whispers.

“This son of yours is so strong I don’t see how we’re ever to get rid of him,” said the Troll.

“Well, if you don’t know, I’m sure I don’t,” replied the woman.

“There’s one other plan we might try,” said the Troll. “I have two more brothers who live not so very far away from here in a castle, and they are very strong and terrible. Round about the castle is an orchard that bears apples all the year round, and any one who so much as tastes of those apples at once falls into a deep sleep, and nothing can waken him till he has had his sleep out, and the sleep lasts for three days and three nights. If we could but send the lad there after the apples, he would be sure to eat of them, and fall asleep, and then my brothers would find him there and tear him to pieces for they come out every day to walk in the garden and so would be sure to find him.”

“If that is the way of it, we’ve no need to worry,” said the woman, “for I’ll find a way to send him there.”

The next day the woman said she still was not able to get up. She lay there in the bed, moaning and groaning.

“I’m sorry to see you so ailing, mother, but I’m sure I don’t know what to do about it.”

“If I but had some apples from the orchard that belongs to the Troll’s brothers, I’d be well enough,” said the woman, “and if you were but the good son you pretend to be, I know you’d fetch them for me.”

“I’ll fetch you the apples soon enough,” replied her son. “No trouble about that. Though to tell you the truth, I doubt whether they’ll cure you.”

The lad made no more ado about it, but off he set for the orchard, and the eleven lions followed close at his heels.

When he came to where the apple trees were, he climbed up into the one that bore the finest fruit, and ate and ate until he could eat no more. Then he came down and stretched himself out on the soft grass and fell into a deep sleep.

The eleven lions gathered about him and guarded him while he slept.

Now not long after this, the Troll’s two brothers came out into the orchard for a stroll, and there, the first thing they saw, was the lad lying under the finest of the apple trees fast asleep, with the apples lying all about him and one in his hand.

At that sight they flew into a fine rage, and they turned themselves into fierce man-eating steeds, and rushed at him to destroy him.

But before they had a chance even so much as to touch him, the eleven lions rose up and rushed at the two steeds and fought them, and tore them into small pieces and scattered them around like dung.

At the end of three days and three nights, the lad awoke and looked about him, and there were the lions still guarding him, but the ground was all dug up as though a battle had been fought there, and there were deep hoof marks, and pieces of the steeds were scattered all about the orchard. The lad looked and wondered, and he could not think what had been happening, but he was not a bit afraid, and he thought as long as he was there, he might as well go and have a look at the castle.

When he drew near to it, he saw a most beautiful maiden looking out from one of the windows, and at sight of her the lad’s heart melted within him for love of her, she was so beautiful.

“It is lucky for you that you had your lions with you just now,” said the maiden.

“Why is that?” asked the lad.

Then the maiden told him how the Trolls had gone out into the orchard a bit ago, when he was asleep under the apple tree, and how they had changed themselves into man-eating steeds and come at him to destroy him, and how the lions had then risen up and torn the Trolls to pieces.

The lad listened to her until she had made an end of the story, and then he said, “That is as it should be, and it was to guard me that I brought them hither.” Then he asked the maiden whether he might come in, and at first she would not let him, because she was afraid of the lions, but when he promised they should not harm her, but would lie down at the threshold as quiet as house cats, she opened the door to him.

The lad looked about him, and it seemed to him the castle was but a rough place for such a beauty to live in.

“I wonder,” said he, “that such a one as you should be living here with no better company than those two Trolls were.”

“It is not of my own will I am living here,” replied the maiden. Then she told him she was the daughter of the King of Arabia, and that she had been walking in her father’s garden one day, and the Trolls had appeared out of a forest near by, and carried her away with them, and she had been well-nigh scared out of her wits by it. But they had done her no harm, though they had kept her a prisoner here, and they intended that after a while one or other of them should take her as a wife. Then she asked the lad who he was, and where he had come from, and he told her all about it.

“You may be the son of a beggar, but all the same it seems to me you are something of a hero,” said the Princess, “and now we will see whether I am right about it.”

Then she led him into another room and showed him where two great swords were hanging on the wall.

“Those are the Trolls’ swords,” said the Princess, “and they are very heavy to handle. Now try whether you can lift one of them down from the wall, though I doubt whether you are strong enough.”

“That is an easy task you are setting me,” said the lad. He took a chair and set it on a table, and another chair on top of that; and then he climbed up on them, for the swords were so high on the wall that only in that way could he reach the place where they were hanging. Then he reached out and set one finger under the point of one of the swords, and tossed it up in the air and caught it, and he leaped down and flourished the sword about him, so that it whistled.

“Yes, I can see that you are indeed a hero,” said the Princess; “so now tell me: shall I go home to my father, the King of Arabia, or shall I stay here and be your wife?”

It did not take the lad long to make his choice in that matter.

“You shall stay here and be my wife,” said he, “for indeed I love you so dearly that if I cannot marry you, then I shall never marry any one.”

So the Princess stayed on in the castle, and she and the lad were very happy together.

But after some time had passed, the Princess said she ought to go back and see her father, for he did not know what had become of her, and no doubt he had grieved bitterly, thinking she was dead.

This reminded the lad that he had promised to take back the apples to his mother, and it was agreed between them that she should go back to Arabia, and that he should take the apples to his mother, and that then he should come after her to her father’s kingdom and claim her.

So the next day they set out, and the Princess went to the nearest seaport, and hired a vessel with some of the jewels she wore, and sailed back to Arabia. But the lad set out for the Troll’s house with the bosom of his shirt full of apples, and the lions following close at his heels.

When he came near the Troll’s house, his mother was looking out of the window, and no sooner did she see him than she began to shake and shiver.

“There is my son back again,” said she, “and indeed I feel terribly frightened.”

“He’s a strong one, and that’s the truth,” said the Troll, “and I wish we could find out what makes him so, for it’s not in nature for any one to be as strong as he is.”

“Perhaps there is indeed some secret about it,” said the woman, “and if there is, I may be able in some way to wheedle it out of him. At least I can do no better then try.”

So she made haste to open the door and welcome the lad back to his home again, but the lions had to stay outside, because both she and the Troll were afraid of them.

“And did you get the apples?” she asked of him.

Yes, he had the apples. “And I hope they’ll cure you, mother,” said he, “though I think you have little need of them, for I never saw you looking better.”

“Oh I’m still very ailing,” said she, “and I’ll eat the apples after a bit; but first do you sit down and have a bite of the good supper I’ve cooked for you.”

So the lad sat down, and the mother gave him his supper, and while he ate it, she sat beside him and talked to him.

“You’re a strong one,” said she, “and there’s no doubt about that.”

“Strong enough,” replied her son, still eating.

“And how did it all come about?” asked the woman. “For only a while ago you were a weakling, and it was I who had to help you over the rough places.”

“Now I’ll tell you,” said the lad, for he was sleepy from eating so much supper and scarce knew what he was saying. “It’s all because of that blue belt that we saw at the crossroads and that I wanted to pick up, and you forbade me.”

Then he told his mother the whole story, and the woman sat and listened, and the Troll listened, too, only he was hidden behind a door and the lad did not see him.

“And that’s the way the strength came to me,” said the lad, when he had made an end of the telling.

“And have you the belt on you now?” asked the woman.

“Yes, I have,” said the lad, and he opened his shirt and showed it to her.

Then, before he could stop her, the woman caught hold of the belt and tore it from him, and at once all his strength went out of him, so that he was helpless before her.

Then the Troll came from behind the door, and he and the woman made merry together because the lad was so helpless, and they talked together about what they should do with the lad to get rid of him. The woman was for taking him out to a high cliff and throwing him over, but the Troll said no, that was not bad enough for him. In the end the Troll put out the lad’s eyes, and set him adrift in a boat on the sea, and he and the woman thought that was the end of him.

But it was not, for the lions were faithful, and they had followed after, and when they saw the boat drifting away, they swam after it and caught the edge of the boat with their teeth, and brought it ashore on an island.

There they and the lad lived, and the lions took care of him, for the lad was helpless because he was blind. The lions found a cave for him to live in and caught birds and wild animals for him to eat, and the lad picked the feathers off the birds, and took the skins of the animals, and made a soft bed for himself, and always, while some of the lions were out hunting, others stayed with him to guard him and see that no harm came to him.

One day the oldest lion went out hunting, and he went a long way before he found anything. Then, after a while, he started up a hare, and it was blind. The lion chased the hare, and it went leaping along, and presently, because it was blind, it fell into a pool of water. As soon as the water touched its eyes, it could see again, and it scrambled out from the pool and escaped the lion.

The lion went back to where the lad was sitting in his cave, and took hold of his clothes, and began to pull at them. The lad did not know what the lion wanted of him, but he got up and allowed the lion to lead him. It led him on and on, until they came to the edge of the pool, and then the lion loosed his clothing and gave the lad such a push that he fell head over heels into the water. No sooner did the water touch his eyes than the blindness was all gone, and he could see again even better than before.

Then the lad rejoiced greatly, and he got into the boat and went back to the place where the Troll lived, and the lions swam after.

After he landed, he crept up toward the house very carefully, so that no one saw him, and peeped in at the door. The woman was busy at the dough-trough making up bread, and her back was toward him, and there was the blue belt hanging from a nail in the wall.

The lad crept in and seized it and put it around him, and then he began to shout and stamp about, and call to the woman and the Troll to come and catch hold of him.

The woman turned about, and when she saw the lad was there and the belt gone from the wall, she knew what had happened. She was terribly frightened, and began to coax and cajole him, and beg him to let her have the belt again.

But the lad would not listen to her. He threw open the door and called in the lions, and they soon made an end of her. Then they ran out and found the Troll, too, and tore him to pieces in spite of all his cries and prayers for mercy.

That was the end of them, and after that the lad was ready to set out for Arabia to claim the Princess as his wife, but he would not let the lions go with him for there was no need for them in that business.

The lad journeyed on and on, and after a while he came to Arabia, and there he heard a story of how the daughter of the King of that country had been stolen away by Trolls, and kept a prisoner for a long time but now she was home, and the King was so glad to have her back he said he would never let her leave him again. He had hidden her away, no one knew where, and when any one came to ask her hand in marriage the King said no one might have her but he who could find her, and if any one tried to find her and failed, he should have his head cut off.

Many kings and princes had lost their lives in this manner.

The lad listened and listened to everything that was said, and he thought to himself that he would be the next to have a try at finding the Princess, but he said nothing about it to any one.

One day the lad met a man who was selling white bearskins, and the lad stopped him and began talking to him. “I will tell you what we will do,” said he. “I will put on one of those bearskins, and then do you fasten a collar around my neck and lead me through the town by a chain, and I will dance and perform tricks.”

This plan pleased the man, and he readily agreed to it; so the lad put on the bearskin, and the man led him about by a chain, and everywhere the lad danced and performed in such a wonderful way that the people were amazed.

After a while it came to the King’s ears that such a beast was in the town, and that not only could it dance and perform tricks, but it could understand everything that was said to it.

The King became very curious to see the animal, and he sent word for the man to come to the palace and bring the bear with him.

The man at once set out for the palace, and on the way he said to the lad, “Now you must do your best, for if you can succeed in pleasing the King, he will be sure to pay us well.”

“Yes,” said the lad, “but when we come to the palace, you must warn everybody that they are not to laugh at me, for if the people there laugh at me, I may become so enraged that I will tear them to pieces before I know what I am doing.”

So as soon as the man came to the palace, he said that no one was to laugh at the bear, whatever happened, and the King promised that no one should.

Then the lad began to perform his tricks, but in the very midst of things one of the maids began to laugh, and at once the pretended bear flew at her and tore her to pieces before any one could stop him.

The man was terrified, but the King said, “It does not matter; she was only a maid, after all.”

After that the King said the man and the bear must spend the night at the castle. The man might sleep in the kitchen, but the bear should stay in the little room that opened out from the King’s own chamber. The man had nothing to sleep on but hard boards, but the bear was given a bed made of feathers and soft cushions to lay his head on.

That night, when all the palace was still, and no one awake to see him, the King came to the room where the pretended bear was lying, and roused him and bade him come with him, for the King had a mind to show the bear to his daughter, and have her see the tricks and the dancing.

The King led the pretended bear upstairs and downstairs, and through cellars and long galleries and around corners, and all the while the lad kept his eyes open, and watched carefully just where they were going, so that he might know how to come the next time.

After a while, the King still leading him, they came out on a long pier with the water washing about it. Here the King pulled and pushed at different posts and wooden pegs, and all the while the lad watched him carefully. Presently a little house came floating, floating across the water until it lay close up against the pier, and then the King took out a bunch of keys and unlocked the door and

led the bear inside, and there, in a little golden room, sat the beautiful Princess.

The Princess started up when the King entered, and when she saw the bear she cried aloud with terror. But the King bade her not to fear it, for it was a trained bear, and there was no danger from it unless some one laughed at it.

The Princess promised she would not laugh, and then the King bade the bear perform its tricks. All went well until the Princess’ waiting-maid quite forgot the warning the King had given, and began to laugh. At once the pretended bear flew at her and tore her in pieces.

The Princess screamed, but the King said, “Why should you be troubled? It was her own fault, for I warned her. Besides, she was nothing but a waiting-maid.”

Then he said he would leave the bear there until morning, for he had no mind to lead it back through all those galleries and cellars and windings at that time of night.

The Princess was very unwilling to have the beast left there, and so she told the King, but while she and her father were talking, the bear curled down in the corner and pretended to go to sleep. So then the Princess agreed that it might stay there, but she made the King promise to come back and get it the first thing in the morning.

Then the King went away, locking the door behind him, and as soon as he had gone, the bear rose up and came over to the Princess, and begged her to undo his collar. The Princess was like to die of terror at this, but the bear spoke so gently and pleaded with her so piteously that at last she took courage and felt in among his fur and unfastened the collar.

At once the lad threw off the bear skin, and there the Princess saw her own dear husband standing before her. Then there was great joy between them, and the lad told the Princess all that had happened to him since they had parted, and they spent the night together very happily.

But at earliest dawn the lad put on the bearskin again, and made the Princess fasten the collar, for so he would have it, and when the King came again, there was the bear still slumbering in his corner, and the Princess asleep among her pillows.

The King took hold of the chain that was fastened to the bear’s collar, and made it get up and follow, and he led it out of the house to the pier. Then he pulled and pushed at the posts and pivots, and the little house floated away across the water, to some place where no one could see it. After that the King led the bear back to its master, and gave the man a handful of gold as a reward, and bade him be off with it.

As soon as the man and the lad were back where they lived, the lad made him undo the collar, and he took off the bearskin. Then it was not long before he was back at the palace and asking to see the King, for he said he had come there to have a hunt for the Princess.

When the King saw the lad he had pity on him because he was so young and handsome.

“This is a very foolish thing that you would do,” said he. “Do you not know how many kings and nobles have lost their lives in searching for the Princess? Why should you wish to perish also?”

But the lad would not listen to him. Hunt for the Princess he must and would.

“Very well”, said the King at last. “Since your heart is set on it, you must go your own way, but remember you will be allowed only twenty-four hours in which to find her.”

Very well! That suited the lad well enough.

Now there were many pretty girls in the palace, and music and dancing, and the lad joined in and danced and laughed with the best of them. He amused himself all day, and at last only one hour was left of all the twenty-four in which he was to search for the Princess.

“There!” said the King. “Now you have danced your life away, and it is time for the headsman.”

“Not so,” said the lad, “for I have still one hour left, and now I will go and look for the Princess.”

With that he set out, and the King and the court were obliged to follow. The lad went upstairs and downstairs, through cellars and along galleries, along the way the King had led him the night before, and all the while the King kept saying, “This is not the way to go. You are all wrong, and you will never find her this way.”

When they came out on the pier, the lad began pulling and pushing at posts and pivots, and the King did not dare to stop him.

Presently the little house came floating up to the pier, and there were only two minutes left of all the twenty-four hours.

“And now unlock the door,” cried the lad, “for within here sits the Princess.”

The King took out his keys, and he fumbled and fumbled, and then he said he had no key there to unlock it.

“Then if you have not, I have,” said the lad, and he raised his fist and with one blow the door was shattered and burst open, and he stepped inside,--and there was the Princess.

Then she rose up and threw her arms about him and kissed him, and she told her father the lad was her own true love who had saved her from the Trolls and had come all this way to find her, and how if she might not have him for her husband, she would pine away with grief and longing.

When the King heard this, he could no longer refuse to let her marry the lad, and indeed he was well enough pleased to have such a clever fellow for a son-in-law, for the lad soon told him of the trick he had played upon him.

So he and the Princess were married and with much rejoicing, and the lad sent back to the Troll’s house for the lions that had been waiting for him there all this time. And when they came, they were given a whole park to roam about in, and the lad and the Princess lived happy forever after, with no misfortunes to trouble them.

THE DUTIFUL DAUGHTER

A KOREAN STORY

There once lived in Korea a rich merchant and his wife who had no children, though they greatly desired them and prayed every day that a child might be granted them.

They had been married sixteen years and were no longer young, when the wife had a wonderful dream.

In her dream she walked in a garden full of beauteous fruits and flowers and singing birds, and as she walked, suddenly a star fell from heaven into her bosom.

As soon as the wife awoke, she told this dream to her husband. “I feel assured,” said she, “that this dream can mean only one thing, and that is that heaven is about to send us a child, and that this child will be as a star for beauty and wonder and grace.”

The merchant could hardly believe that this good fortune was really to be theirs; but it was indeed as the wife had said, and in due time a daughter was born to the couple, and this child was so beautiful that she was the wonder of all who saw her.

The husband and wife, who had hoped for a son, were greatly disappointed that the long-wished-for child was only a daughter, but their disappointment was soon forgotten in the joy and pride they felt in her beauty and wit and goodness.

Unhappily, while Sim Ching (for so the girl was named) was still a child, her mother died, and her father’s grief over the loss of his wife was so great that he became completely blind. He was now obliged to leave the most of his business affairs in the hands of his servants, and these servants were so dishonest and so idle that they either wasted or stole all his money. At last he became so poor that he could scarcely provide enough food to keep himself and his daughter alive.

One day the merchant in his unhappiness wandered away from home, and being blind and so unable to tell where he was going, he fell into a deep pit out of which he was unable to climb.

He feared he would die there, but presently, hearing footsteps on the road above, he called out loudly for help.

The footsteps he heard were those of a greedy and dishonest priest who lived near by. Every day he passed by this way on his walks to and from the temple.

Hearing the voice from the pit, the priest went to the edge of it and looking down into it, saw the blind man there below.

“Who are you?” asked the priest, “and how have you fallen into this pit?”

“I am a poor blind man, who was once a rich merchant,” replied the man in the pit. “I lost at once both my sight and my wealth, and because I cannot see I fell into this pit from which I am not able to climb. For the sake of mercy reach down your hand and draw me out.”

“Not so,” replied the priest. “That would be a foolish thing for me to do. Instead of drawing you out, I might myself be pulled in. But if you will promise to give me a hundred and fifty bags of rice that I may offer them up in the temple, I will go and get a rope, and throw the end of it down to you, and by that means I may be able to pull you out without danger to either of us.”

The priest asked for the rice for the temple not because he really wished to make an offering of it, for indeed he meant to keep it for himself, but he thought, “If this man was once rich, no doubt he must still know some wealthy people, and if he goes to them and asks for rice to offer up in the temple they will be more likely to give it to him than if he told them it was for me.”

When the poor man heard that the priest demanded his promise of a hundred and fifty bags of rice before he would help him, he cried aloud with grief and wonder.

“How is it possible I should promise you such a thing as that?” he cried. “None but a very rich man could make such a gift to the temple, and I am so poor that I cannot even provide food enough for myself and my daughter.”

“Your daughter!” cried the priest. “You have then a daughter?”

“Yes; and she is so beautiful that no one in the whole land can compare with her for fairness, and she is as good as she is beautiful, and as witty as she is good.”

“Now listen!” said the priest. “If you will swear to give me the bags of rice, not only will I pull you out of the pit, but I foresee that because of this gift your daughter will be raised to the highest place in the land, and you yourself will receive great wealth and honor, and your sight will return to you.”

This the priest said, not because he really foresaw anything of the kind, but because he wished to tempt the blind man into making him the promise of the rice.

The poor man still declared that he had no means of making such an offering, but the priest urged and begged and threatened, until at last the blind man gave his promise.

The priest then ran and got a rope, and soon pulled the blind merchant out of the pit.

“Now remember!” said he. “Exactly a month from now I will send my servants for the rice, and you must in some way have it ready, whether you beg or borrow or steal it, and if you do not, you shall receive a good beating for breaking your bargain with me, and be thrown into a prison that is worse than any pit.”

The priest then went on to the temple, while the blind man returned home, very sad and sorrowful.

As soon as he entered the door, his daughter saw by his look that something unfortunate had happened and begged him to tell her what it was.

At first he would not say because he feared to frighten her, but she asked him so many questions that at last he was obliged to tell her the whole story.

Sim Ching was indeed terrified when she heard what her father had promised the priest.

“Alas! Alas!” she cried. “How can we possibly get the rice ready for him? You know it is only by the kindness of the neighbors that we have the handful that I have cooked for our dinner to-day.”

The poor man began to weep. “What you say is true,” he cried. “Better that I should have died in the pit than be thrown into prison as will surely happen to me if I cannot give the priest the hundred and fifty bags that I promised him.”

The blind man now set out to beg, telling every one his sad story and asking them to help him to collect the rice, but the people of the village were themselves poor and had no more than enough food for their own families.

Time slipped by, until at last the day arrived when the priest’s servants were to come to demand the rice, and the blind man had not yet been able to get together even one bagful of rice, let alone a hundred and fifty.

He and his daughter sat together very sorrowful, and now and then the blind man bemoaned himself as he thought of how he was to be beaten and thrown into prison, for he had now learned enough about the priest to know that he could expect no mercy from one as cruel and greedy as he.

Now there lived in another city, not far away, a very rich merchant who owned many ships that traded in foreign lands. This merchant had become so proud of his wealth and his power that he called himself the Prince of the Sea, and so it was that he obliged others to address him. This greatly offended a powerful Water Spirit who lived under the sea over which the ships of the merchant sailed. And now, in order to punish the merchant, the Water Spirit sent storms down upon the ships. Many were destroyed, and others were driven on to reefs, or back to the ports they sailed from. So many misfortunes overtook the vessels that sailors became afraid to sail on them, and the merchant began to fear he would be ruined.

In his trouble he sent for a number of wise men and magicians and asked them why he was now so unlucky, and what he could do to bring back good fortune.

The wise men and magicians studied their books and consulted together for a long time, and then they came to the merchant and said, “We have found why you are so unlucky. Your pride has offended a powerful Water Spirit, and it is he who is wrecking your ships or driving them back into port. There is only one way in which to turn aside his anger. If a young and beautiful maiden can be found who will willingly offer herself as a sacrifice to him, then he will be satisfied and will punish you no further. Otherwise he will certainly destroy every vessel you send out, and so in the end you will be ruined.”

When the merchant heard this, he was in despair. “Now indeed there is no hope for me,” he cried, “for I am very sure there is not, in the whole of Korea, a maiden who would be willing to be sacrificed to this Water Spirit, however great the reward I might offer. For indeed of what use would any reward be to her, if in order to gain it she must be drowned in the sea.”

However, his head steward, who had charge of his affairs, begged him at least to send out a proclamation and to offer a reward to the family of any maiden who would consent to the sacrifice. “It may be that such a one will be found,” said he;--“some one who values the fortunes of her parents even above her own life.”

The merchant finally agreed to the wishes of his steward, and messengers were sent forth to read the proclamation aloud in every city, town and village in the country. They went this way and that, East, West, North and South, and finally one of them came to the place where the blind man and his daughter lived. The day the messenger came to the village was the very day when the servants of the wicked priest were to come and demand the hundred and fifty bags of rice from the blind man.

The merchant’s messenger took his stand not far from the blind man’s house, and from there he read aloud the proclamation as to the sacrifice and the reward that would be paid to the parents of any maiden who would be willing to be thrown to the Water Spirit.

The people of the village gathered about him in a great crowd to listen, but after they had heard what he said, they began to make a great noise, with cries and laughter.