Chapter II: One day the hare said suddenly, (6)

Milia had scarcely uttered these words when she was completely dazzled. The old woman was changed suddenly into a beautiful fairy, adorned with a lovely necklace of fine pearls, and dressed in a magnificent robe of blue and rose-color, all embroidered with gold.

“What do you wish for? I am powerful; ask, and it shall be granted you.”

“I wish to know where my brothers are; are they dead or alive?”

“Your brothers are living, but it will be very difficult for you to recognize them. To find them you have only to go on straight before you. They are shut up in the first house that you will find on your way.”

“Thanks, good fairy.”

And Milia set out.

After having walked hours and hours, the little sister saw a house.

“This is where they are, doubtless,” she thought, and she walked more rapidly.

Milia was not more than fifty paces from it when the wicked fairy saw her.

She threw out her ring quickly.

But a large bird flew by and carried it off in its beak.

It was the bird that the young girl had set free.

Tap! tap!

“Come in.”

Milia entered.

“Sit down a moment, while I go to find you something to eat; you must be tired,” said the old woman to her; then she went out.

Then the bird came and tapped at the window.

“Milia, take nothing from that wicked old woman, or you will be turned to stone. Your brothers, changed to goats, are shut up in the cellar.”

The old fairy came in at that moment.

“Here, eat a piece of this cake and drink a little of this exquisite wine.”

“Thanks, madam; I am neither hungry nor thirsty.”

“What, after such a long journey?”

“I do not want anything; if you wish to please me, let me sleep quietly in this corner.”

“Make yourself comfortable, my poor child.”

However, the fairy thought,--

“This little one must not escape me; I wish to have her at all hazards.”

And she went for a necklace of gold and robes changeable as the sky.

“Since you will not accept anything to eat, take these things, at least; for it must not be said that any one rests at my house without taking away some token of my good will.”

“What do you wish a poor girl to do with all these wonderful things? Robes and necklace would soon be torn up among the bushes through which I must pass.”

Seeing that all her designs were baffled, the perfidious fairy stretched herself on her bed, and slept soundly.

The bird came again and tapped at the window.

“Milia, wake up! wake up, Milia!”

“What do you want?”

“Kill that wicked fairy, or she will soon find means to destroy you. Then take the chemise that she wears, put it on yourself, and you will possess her magic power.”

Milia got up softly, and taking a knife which was on the table, killed the wicked old woman; then she undressed her, took her chemise and put it on herself.

Her mind was enlightened in a moment. A number of things which she had thought impenetrable mysteries were now explained to her.

Before trying her power, Milia went over the whole house. In a hall were a number of statues, two of which were in a niche. They were a king and queen laid under a spell by the magician.

Then Milia went down into the cellar. There she saw six goats, extremely emaciated, though they had an abundance of food.

“Ah, poor beasts! and to think they are my brothers!”

And Milia, good sister that she was, began to cry. She would have restored them to their original shape at that moment, but she did not know how to manage it.

Happily, she remembered that on the fairy’s chemise was written,--

“Chemise, chemise, until death,
Obey me in everything.”

Milia repeated these words, then thought,--

“Chemise, chemise, cause these goats to become men again as they were before!”

And immediately the goats lost their hair, their horns fell off, and their feet were changed into the two hands and feet of a man.

Imagine Milia’s joy! She threw herself on her brothers’ necks, for she knew them at once; and for a long time they embraced each other joyfully.

“Where is the old fairy who changed us to beasts?”

“She is dead; and I have all her power.”

“How did it happen? In what does this power reside?”

“I cannot tell you my secret. I am going now to set free all those who are in the castle.”

This was quickly done.

The king and the queen and all the other persons thanked Milia very much, as you may suppose. They wished to bestow castles and villas on her; but she refused them all. Had she not the fairy’s chemise to put her in possession of all that she desired?

By means of her magic power the young girl made handsome carriages come up out of the ground, and distributed them among all those who were there, so that they could return to their homes.

She bestowed one of them upon herself, and harnessed to it two beautiful horses as fleet as the wind.

Thus she went back to the home of her parents, who were amazed to see her with her brothers in such an equipage.

“Ah! our daughter has a fortune,” said they to themselves.

And they were happy.

Unfortunately, the chemise became so very, very dirty that one day Milia wanted to have it washed.

It was spread in the sun to dry.

A tramp saw it, seized upon it, and ran away.

They sought for it a long time in vain; they could never find it.

Milia died in despair at having lost the precious chemise from which she derived all her power.

As for her brothers, who went in search of the thief, nothing more was heard of them. If I learn anything about them, you may be sure I will tell you of it.

ORTOLI, “Contes de l’ile de Corse.”

THE SIREN OF LA FRESNAYE

A STORY OF UPPER BRITANNY

Once upon a time there was in the woods of the isle of Aval, in the parish of Saint-Cast, a wooden-shoe maker, who lived with his wife and two children in a poor little mud hut which he had built himself by the seashore, just at the end of the valley. There are those who say that the ruins of it may still be seen; but that is hardly credible, for it is a long time since then, and usually the cabins of wooden-shoe makers do not last very long.

They were not rich; for they had only their work to live on; and you know wooden-shoe makers rarely buy small farms. The husband dug out the wooden shoes, his wife helped him as well as she could, and the little boy and girl, who were not large enough to work in the wood, went every day to fish along the shore.

One day when the little boy was fishing among the rocks, he heard suddenly a sweet, musical song, and looking in the direction from which it seemed to come, he saw the Siren, who was singing as she swam among the waves; and around her the sea was so brilliant that it dazzled you to look at it.

He ran very quickly to the cabin where his father was working.

“Ah, papa!” said he to him, “do come and see! there is a fish in the bay of Port-au-Moulin more beautiful than any I have ever seen; it sings, and it shines like gold!”

“Like fire, papa,” added the little girl, who had seen it also.

The wooden-shoe maker and his wife hastened to follow their children; but when they reached the shore, the Siren had disappeared; they saw nothing on the sea and heard no singing.

“It was nothing,” said the mother; “the children dreamed it all.”

But the wooden-shoe maker was not so incredulous as his wife. The next morning he said to the children,--

“Go back again to the edge of the water, and watch attentively to see if the beautiful singing fish will show herself again.”

The little boy went out; but as soon as he had gone a few steps from the cabin he ran back, crying out,--

“Ah, papa! the beautiful fish has returned; you can hear it sing from here.”

When they went outside, they heard a delicious music in the distance; and they hastened to go to the seashore, where they saw the Siren, who sang as she played about on the waves, and leaped sometimes more than three feet above the water.

“It is not an ordinary fish,” said the wooden-shoe maker; “it looks like a human being.”

“Ah!” said his wife, “we must get the lines; perhaps you can catch it. I should like very much to see it close by.”

They all went to work to get the lines ready: and when the sea was high, they set them; but in vain. They put the choicest bait on the hook; the singing fish did not come to take it, although they saw it every day.

The wooden-shoe maker thought often of the wonderful fish, and devised means to possess himself of it. One day as he was walking on the shore, he saw the Siren, who, cradled by the waves, and fast asleep, was floating at a short distance from the shore. He went into the water without making any noise, and slipped a large basket that he had, under her, and carried her off in it to the land without waking her.

She was about the size of a child of eight years. She had golden hair on her head, and her white and polished body resembled that of a woman; but instead of feet she had fins, and her body ended with the tail of a fish.

“Ah!” said the wooden-shoe maker, as he looked at her, “my little brats did not lie; it is really the most curious thing that ever was seen. It is doubtless a siren; for it is half woman and half fish.”

He made these reflections on his way back to his cabin, and he had almost reached it when the Siren awoke and said to him,--

“Ah, wooden-shoe maker! you surprised me while I was asleep; I beg you to take me back to the water, now that you have seen me close, and I will protect you, you and all your family, as long as you live.”

“No,” answered the wooden-shoe maker; “I will not put you back into the sea; I have watched for you for a long time, and so have my wife and children. I am going to take you to the house so that they can see you; but when you have sung a song, if my wife wishes, I will carry you back to the place from which I took you.”

He called his wife, who was named Olérie, and cried to her,--

“Olérie, come here and see, and bring the children; I have the singer in my basket.”

The good woman ran, full of joy, followed by the little boy and girl, and began to examine the Siren.

“She asks to be taken back to the water,” said the wooden-shoe maker; “she will sing you a song first. Do you agree to that?”

“No,” she answered; “it is too beautiful a fish; I have never seen one like it; we must eat it.”

“Ah!” said the Siren, “if you feed upon my flesh, if you feast upon my fish, you will never eat anything else in this world, for you will perish. I am not a fish like the others; I am the Siren of Fresnaye, and your husband surprised me while I was sleeping. Ask of me what you will, and I will grant it, for I have the power of a fairy. But make haste to carry me back to the sea, and do not lose any time; I am already growing weak and I shall soon die.”

“What do you say about it?” asked Olérie of her husband.

“If you consent to it, I am very willing to put her back into the sea; it would be a shame to kill her, she is so pretty and has never done any harm to any one.”

They each took hold of one end of the basket, and carried the Siren gently to the sea, and let her plunge into it again without thinking of asking anything of her.

When she felt the freshness of the water, she shouted with laughter, for joy that she was no longer in captivity, and she said to the wooden-shoe maker,--

“What do you ask of me now?”

“I ask,” said he, “for some bread, some fish, and clothing for my wife and my children.”

“You shall have all that in twenty-four hours,” said the Siren.

“I should like very well also,” added he, “if it is in your power, to have a little money to pay my master, for I am not at all rich.”

The Siren did not make any reply, but she begun to flap the water with her fins, and each time that she struck the waves they flashed up in little drops, and all that went up in the air became gold which fell down at the feet of the wooden-shoe maker. The shore was soon covered with it; then she became still and said to the wooden-shoe maker and his wife,--

“All that is for you, good people; you can pick it up.”

They thanked the Siren, who went off singing; then they filled their pockets with gold and returned to their cabin very happy.

When the twenty-four hours had passed, Olérie and her husband returned to the seashore to look for the clothing that the Siren had promised them. They heard her singing in the distance, and soon they saw her glide over the waves and come near them, always singing her sweet and melodious song. She flapped the water with her fins; a large wave broke into foam on the strand, and rolled back, leaving at the feet of the wooden-shoe maker a very large and tightly closed chest. Then the Siren leaped three times out of the water and said to the wooden-shoe maker,--

“You will find in this chest what I promised you; good-by, till I see you again, you who have been so good to me! When you want some fish, do not forget this shore.”

They took the chest away with them to their house; it contained good clothing made to fit them; and every time that they or their children wanted to catch fish, they went to the seashore, and in a few moments they caught an abundance.

For a whole year they did not see the Siren; their purse grew lighter meanwhile, and the lighter it grew, the more they thought of the Siren. They often went to the seashore, listening and hoping to hear her voice.

One day they heard her singing in the distance; they ran at once to the shore, and were very glad to see her gliding over the waves; all along where she had passed, the sea gleamed like a pathway of fire.

When she came within a little distance, the wooden-shoe maker said to her,--

“My Siren, I am very glad to see you again; if you will, you can do me a great service, for I have no longer either bread or money.”

“I will give you,” said the Siren, “enough to fill your purse again.”

After saying these words, she unfolded her fins, and beating the water around her, she sent to the shore a wave of gold and silver.

“With that,” said she, “you can buy all you need; but if you wish to keep it, use it well. Hereafter you will see me no more; I am going to leave this country and go to India.”

The Siren went away after having said this; since then no one has ever seen her, or heard her sing in the bay of Fresnaye.

PAUL SEBILLOT, “Contes des Paysans et des Pêcheurs.”

THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK

A LORRAINE STORY

Once there was a king who had three sons; but he treated only the first two as his sons: the youngest was a hunchback; only his mother loved him.

One day the king called the oldest to him and said to him,--

“My son, I should like to have the water which restores youth.”

“My father, I will go after it.”

The king gave him a beautiful carriage drawn by four horses, and as much gold and silver as he wanted, and the young man started on his journey.

He had gone two hundred leagues on the way, when he met a shepherd, who said to him,--

“Prince, my handsome prince, would you help me to set free one of my sheep which is caught in a thicket?”

“You should not have let it go there,” replied the prince; “I have no time to lose.”

When he arrived at Pekin, he went to a fine hotel, had his horses taken out, and ordered a good dinner. He soon made friends, and thought no more of continuing his journey.

At the end of six months the king, seeing that he did not return, called his second son, and asked him to go and seek for the water that restored youth. He gave him a handsome carriage drawn by four horses, covered with pearls and diamonds. The young man got into it and started off. After having gone two hundred leagues, he met the shepherd, who said to him,--

“Prince, my handsome prince, would you help me to set free one of my sheep which is caught in a thicket?”

“For whom do you take me?” answered the prince. “You should not have let it go there.”

He arrived at Pekin, where he lodged in the same hotel as his brother. He also soon made friends and did not think of going any farther. The king waited a year, and seeing that he did not return, he said to himself: “I have no more children! Who, then, will wear my crown?” He thought no more of the little hunchback than if he had not been in the world.

Meanwhile the latter fell sick. They sent for a physician; the young prince told him that he was ill of grief seeing that his father did not love him, and that he wished very much to travel. The physician repeated these words to the king, who came to see his son.

“My father,” said the little hunchback to him, “I would like to go after the water that restores youth, and I will not do as my brothers did; I will bring it back with me.”

“You can go if you wish,” said the king.

He gave him an old carriage that had only three wheels, an old horse that had only three legs, very little money,--though the queen added something to that,--and the prince set out.

After having gone two hundred leagues, he met the shepherd, who said to him,--

“Prince, my handsome prince, would you help me to set free one of my sheep which is caught in a thicket?”

“Willingly,” said the prince.

And he helped the shepherd to set free his sheep. When he had gone away, the shepherd, remembering that he had given him nothing for his trouble, called him back and said to him,--

“Prince, I forgot to reward you. Here, take these arrows; all that these arrows pierce will be well pierced. Here is a flageolet; all who hear it will dance.”

The prince went on his way and arrived at Pekin. When he passed by the hotel where his brothers lodged, the latter, who were on the steps, were ashamed of him and went into the house. The poor little hunchback alighted at a miserable inn, where he unhitched his horse himself; then he took with him a guide to show him the city. As he was walking along he saw a dead man who had been left unburied.

“Why do they not bury this man?” asked he.

“Because he had a great many creditors and could not pay them.”

“If they were paid for him, would they have him buried?”

“Yes, certainly.”

The prince sent for the creditors, paid the dead man’s debts, and gave the money to have him buried. After that he continued his journey. One day a good old woman received him in her little house and gave him something to eat and drink; he paid her generously and then went on farther.

When he had gone two hundred leagues more, he found that all his money was gone and he had no longer anything to eat. His horse was more fortunate than himself; he could browse a little on the grass along the road. A fox passed by; the prince was about to let fly one of his arrows at him, when the fox cried to him,--

“Wretch! what are you going to do? would you kill me?”

The prince, seized with fright, put his arrow back into the quiver. Then the fox gave him a napkin in which he found something to eat and drink, and said to him,--

“You are looking for the water that restores youth? It is in that castle very far below there. The castle is guarded by an ogre, by tigers, and by lions. To reach it, it is necessary to cross a river; on this river you will see a boat, which the same man has steered for eighteen hundred years. Be very careful to enter the boat feet foremost; for if you should get in backwards, you would take the man’s place forever. When you reach the castle, do not allow yourself to be charmed by the magnificence that you will find there. You will see in the stables mules adorned with plates of gold: take the ugliest one: you will see also two green birds: take the ugliest one.”

The prince was careful to enter the boat feet foremost, and arrived at the castle; he was just going to take the mule and the bird when the ogre came in.

“What are you doing here?” said the ogre to him.

The prince excused himself, bowed to him, and asked his pardon. The ogre said to him,--

“I will not eat you; you are too thin.”

He gave him something to eat and to drink, and the prince remained at the castle, where he had everything he wanted. The ogre sent him to fight his enemies, beasts like himself; the prince, thanks to his arrows, won the fight and brought back the skins. He fought five or six times and was always conqueror.

Now there was in the castle a princess whom the ogre wished to marry, but who did not want him. One day, when the prince had won a great fight, he took a notion to play a tune on his flageolet. The princess was at table with the ogre; as they heard the marvelous flageolet, they began to dance together, without knowing at first whence the music came. When the ogre saw that it was the prince who was playing, he made him come to the table, and said to him,--

“Ask me what you will; I will grant it.”

He thought surely that the prince would ask of him permission to go away.

“I ask,” said the prince, “for what is most beautiful here, and for permission to go over the castle three times.”

The ogre consented to it. There was so much gold in the castle that they did not know what to do with it; but the prince did not touch it: he took the uglier of the two green birds, and the ugliest mule, which stepped seven leagues at a time, and did not forget a vial of the water which restores youth; then he put the princess, who was a party to the whole thing, on the mule. Instead of going over the castle three times, he only went twice and ran off with the princess. As soon as the ogre found it out, he went in pursuit of them, but he could not catch them.

The young man met the fox the second time; and the fox said to him,--

“If you see any one in trouble, be sure not to help them out.”

A little farther on, he was very kindly received by the good old woman in her little house. At last he arrived at Pekin with the princess. On one of the squares there was a gallows erected.

“For whom is that gallows?” asked the prince.

He was told that it was for two young strangers who were to be hung that day. At that moment the condemned men were brought out; he recognized his brothers. He asked what their crime was.

He was told that they had contracted debts which they were not able to pay.

The young man assembled the creditors, paid them, and set his brothers free; then they set out together on the road to their father’s kingdom. The little hunchback had given the mule to his oldest brother; to the other, the green bird; and the water which restores youth, he kept for himself and the princess. Still his brothers were not satisfied; together they sought out opportunities to get rid of him, and the princess, who saw their jealousy, was distressed on account of it.

One day as they were passing by a well which was three hundred feet deep, the two elder brothers said to the youngest,--

“Look at that beautiful well!”

And as he leaned over to look, they pushed him in and carried off the princess, the mule, and the bird. When they arrived at the castle, the princess was in a fainting condition; the mule and the bird were dejected. They put the mule in an old stable, the bird in an old cage. The water could not restore the king’s youth: they put it in a corner among the old rugs.

Meanwhile the poor prince sent up loud cries from the bottom of the well; the fox hastened to him and went down into the well.

“I charged you especially not to help any one out of trouble. However, I am going to help you to get out of this place; hold fast to my tail.”

The young man did as he was told, and the fox climbed up; he had almost reached the top when his tail broke, and the young man fell back to the bottom of the well. The fox tied his tail on again, rubbing it with grease, and took the prince on his back. Once more in the open air, he straightened him up, and the young man; disburdened of his hunch, became an elegant prince.

He went to the castle of the king, his father, and had himself announced as a great physician, saying that he could cure the king and the princess. At first he went into the stable; at once the mule took on a handsome hide and began to neigh: he approached the bird; it resumed its beautiful plumage and began to sing. He gave his father some of the water which restores youth; the king became young again immediately and got up out of his sick-bed. The princess was restored to health as soon as she saw the young man. Then the prince made himself known to his father and told him what had happened; then the bird spoke in its turn and told the whole story over again.

The elder sons of the king were out hunting. The king had their young brother concealed behind the door; and when they came in, he said to them,--

“I have just heard of a strange adventure which took place in one of the cities of my kingdom. Three young men were walking together on the shore of the lake; two of them threw their companion into the lake. Give Solomon’s judgment; what punishment do these men deserve?”

“They deserve death.”

“Miserable creatures! then you also deserve it. You shall not be thrown into the water, but you shall be burned.”

The sentence was executed. Afterwards they made a great feast, and the young prince married the princess.

EMMANUEL COSQUIN, “Contes Populaires Lorrains.”

THE PRINCESS OF TRONKOLAINE

A STORY OF LOWER BRITANNY

Once upon a time there was a poor coal-man who had already had twenty-five children baptized. God sent him the twenty-sixth, and he set out to look for a godfather and godmother for it. He saw the king pass in his carriage, and knelt down in the mud to greet him. The king threw him a piece of gold.

“This is not what I am in search of at this moment, although I am in great need of it,” said the coal-man; “I want a godfather for the twenty-sixth child that my wife has just presented me.”

“Twenty-six children, my poor man!” exclaimed the king. “Ah! well! come to the church to-morrow with your child and a godmother, and I will be the godfather, myself.”

The coal-man was promptly at the appointed place; he took with him the godmother, and the king arrived also at the hour agreed upon.

The child was baptized, and named Louis. The godfather gave the father a purse full of gold and told him to send his son to school when he was ten years old. He gave him also half of a platine, keeping the other half himself, and charging him to give it to his son when he should have reached the age of eighteen, to bring it back to him at his court at Paris. He would recognize him by this sign. Then he went away.

The child was put to school when he was ten years old, and as he was intelligent, he made rapid progress. When he was eighteen, his father gave him the half-platine, and told him to go and take it to his godfather, the king of France, at his palace in Paris. Until then he had concealed from him who his godfather was. He gave him also one of his horses, a jade used for hauling coal, and the young man set out.

As he was going along a long and narrow street, he met a little old woman, bending over her stick, who said to him,--

“Good morning, Louis, godson of the king of France.”

“Good morning, grandmother,” answered Louis, astonished at being known to the old woman.

“Almost immediately, my child,” said the latter, “you will come to a spring by the roadside, and you will see some one there who will invite you to get down from your horse and quench your thirst; do not listen to him, but go on your way.”

“Thanks, grandmother,” answered the young man. And he passed along.

Sure enough, a moment after, he came to a spring near which there was a person of disagreeable countenance, who cried to him,--

“Come, Louis! stop a moment, and get down from your horse.”

“I have not time,” answered Louis; “I am in a hurry.”

“Come, I tell you, quench your thirst at this spring,--the water is delicious,--and converse a little; you do not recognize me, then--one of your schoolmates?”

Louis, hearing these last words, got down from his horse; but he did not recognize the pretended schoolmate. Nevertheless, he started to drink from the spring, and as he was leaning over the water to drink out of the hollow of his hand, the other, with one hunch of his shoulder, threw him into it; then he took away his half-platine, mounted his horse and departed. Poor Louis got out of the water as well as he could and began to run after the thief. The horse was old and foundered, so that at last he overtook him, and they entered the courtyard of the king’s palace together. The king, at sight of the half-platine, had no doubt that the bearer of it was his godson, and welcomed him heartily, although he thought him ill-looking. He asked him also, who the young man was who accompanied him.

“That is a young countryman, godfather,” replied he, “who followed me, hoping to find employment at your court.”

“Very well,” answered the king; “occupation shall be found for him.”

He was, in fact, employed as a stable-boy, while the other followed the king everywhere, dressed like a prince, and had nothing to do every day but eat, drink, and go out walking.

Very soon the pretended godson, wishing to get rid of Louis, the sight of whom annoyed him, said to the king one day,--

“If you could only know, godfather, what the stable-boy from my country boasts that he will do!”

“What does he boast that he will do?” asked the king.

“That he will go and ask the sun why he is red when he rises in the morning.”

“Indeed? Very well; let him go, for I am really very curious to know why.”

And poor Louis was obliged to start off to go to see the sun, although he declared that he had never said anything of the sort.

As he was going sadly along by the seashore, he met a venerable old man, who asked him,--

“Where are you going, my son?”

“Truly, grandfather,” he replied, “I do not know at all. I was told that, under pain of death, I should find out from the sun why he is so red when he rises in the morning, and I do not know where to find the sun.”

“Well! my son, I will help you to find him.” And showing him a wooden horse, he said,--

“Jump on this horse, which will rise in the air, at your command, and carry you to the foot of a mountain on the summit of which is the castle of the sun. Leave the horse at the foot of the mountain, where you will find it again on your return, and go alone to the castle.”

Louis mounted the wooden horse, which rose at once into the air and put him down at the foot of a high mountain. He climbed the mountain with difficulty, and when at last he reached the summit, he saw a place so fine, so resplendent, that he was dazzled by it. It was the palace of the sun. He knocked at the door. An old woman came and opened it for him.

“Is my lord the sun at home?” asked he.

“No, my child; but he will soon return,” answered the old woman.

“I will wait for him, then.”

“But, my poor child, my son will be very hungry when he comes; he might very likely eat you up.”

“I beg you, madam, do not let him eat me, for I must speak to him.”

“Very well! come in at any rate, my boy, and I will try to manage it.”

And he went in. The sun arrived a little while after, calling out,--

“I am hungry, I am very hungry, mother!” Then having sniffed the air; “I smell the smell of a Christian. There is a Christian here, and I am going to eat him.”

“Oh, yes,” said his mother; “it’s very likely that I should give you _this_ poor, pretty child to eat. _There_ is your supper all ready; eat it quickly and keep silent, or look out for my stick!”

The sun hung his head, at this threat, like a timid child, and began to eat in silence. When he had finished, Louis, emboldened by seeing him so gentle, put this question to him,--

“I should like very much to know, my lord the sun, why you are so red, so handsome, when you rise in the morning.”

“I will tell you willingly,” answered the sun; “it is because the castle of the princess of Tronkolaine is near here, and she is so beautiful that I have to show myself in all my splendor so as not to be surpassed by her.”

“I am very much obliged, my lord, the sun,” answered Louis.

And he bowed low and went away. He went down the mountain again, mounted his wooden horse, which was waiting for him, and quickly returned to the king’s court.

“Well?” said the latter to him, “have you really been all the way to the sun, and can you tell me now why he is red when he rises in the morning?”

“Yes, sire; I can tell you why.”

“Let us hear it, then.”

“It is in order not to be eclipsed by the Princess Tronkolaine, whose castle is near his own, and who is the most wonderful beauty in existence.” The king appeared satisfied with the explanation.

But some time after that the false godson said again,--

“If you could know, godfather, how this stable-boy still brags!”

“What does he brag about?” asked the king.

“Of being able to bring the Princess Tronkolaine herself to your court so that you can marry her.”

“Indeed! has he boasted of that? Very well! he must do it, or death is his only portion.”

And poor Louis was obliged to attempt this adventure, in spite of all his protestations of never having said any such thing. Fortunately for him, he met again on the road the unknown old man, who said to him,--

“Go back to the king, and tell him that in order to accomplish your enterprise you must have a ship loaded with wheat, bacon, and beef, that you may distribute these provisions among the kings of the ants, the sparrow-hawks, and the lions which you will meet on your way, and which, if you feast them well, will be useful to you later.”

He obtained the ship loaded with provisions. Then the old man gave him besides a white stick, by means of which he could obtain a favorable wind from whatever direction he should turn it toward. He set sail, passed by the kingdoms of the ants, the sparrow-hawks, and the lions, and regaled all these animals as well as he could, and they all promised to come to his help as soon as he called them.

Then he landed on an island. In the middle of the island there was a magnificent castle. It was there that the princess of Tronkolaine dwelt. He saw her, beside a fountain, combing her blond hair with a golden comb, and a large-toothed comb of ivory. He plucked an orange from an orange-tree near by and threw it into the fountain. The princess turned, saw him, smiled at him, and told him to come forward. Then she led him to her castle, feasted him on exquisite meats and delicious fruits, and invited him to remain with her. At the end of a fortnight’s stay at the castle Louis asked the princess if she would agree to follow him to the court of France.

“Willingly,” she answered, “when you shall have done all the work there is to do here.”

“Tell me, princess, what you wish me to do, and if it is possible, I will do it.”

The next morning the princess took him to the barn of the castle, and showed him a great heap of mixed grain.

“There,” said she, “is a heap of mixed grain,--wheat, rye, and barley. You must put each kind of grain in a pile by itself, without making a mistake in a single grain, and it must be done by sunset.” Then she went away.

Louis called the ant to his assistance, and the sorting was done perfectly by the appointed hour. So when the princess came at sunset, she was very much astonished. She examined carefully, and not finding a single grain of a different sort in any one of the three piles,--

“It is very well done,” said she.

“Will you come with me now, princess?” asked Louis of her again.

“Not yet; I have something else to ask of you first.”

Accordingly, the next morning, she gave him a wooden axe, and having led him into the great avenue of the castle, she said to him, showing him the great oaks,--

“You must cut down all these trees before sunset, with your wooden axe.” Then she went away.

As soon as the princess was gone, Louis called the lions to his assistance, and when she returned at sunset, there was not a single tree left standing in the avenue. Her astonishment was greater than before.

“Will you follow me now, princess?” asked Louis.

“I have still another task--a last test to give you,” she answered; “and if you get through it as successfully as the others, nothing shall then prevent me from following you.”

The next morning the princess led him to the foot of a high mountain, and said to him,--

“Here is a mountain which obscures my palace and prevents my seeing at a distance, and I desire that it shall disappear by the setting of the sun.” And she went away again.

This time Louis called the sparrow-hawks to his assistance, and they were so numerous that with their beaks and claws they soon made the mountain disappear, and leveled down the earth. When the princess returned at sunset,--

“Well, princess, are you satisfied?” said Louis.

“Yes,” she replied, “you have not your equal on the earth; and now I will follow you where you will.”

Then she gave him a kiss. They went towards the sea after that. The ship in which Louis had come to the island was there waiting for him. They went aboard of her and reached the continent without hindrance. During the voyage, the princess let the key of her castle fall into the sea, without saying anything of it to Louis.

The old man was waiting for them on the other side of the water.

“Well, my son,” said he to Louis, “did you succeed?”

“Yes, grandfather, thanks to you, and may God bless you.”

When the princess arrived at the court, the old king was so charmed with her beauty, that he wished to marry her immediately.

“Holloa!” said she then, “I did not come here for an old gray-beard like you, nor for this other creature,” and she pointed to the pretended godson, “whom you believe to be your godson, and who is only a demon! Here is your real godson, and it is he who shall be my husband.” And she pointed to Louis. “Now, have the furnace heated, and let this demon be thrown into it.”

No sooner said than done. And as the demon, otherwise the pretended godson, uttered fearful cries, and tried to get out of the furnace, they sent for a young woman with her first child, and with her wedding ring, which she presented to him at the opening of the furnace when he tried to get out, she forced him to stay inside. Then he cried out,--

“If I had remained at the court only a year, I should have reduced the kingdom to a hopeless condition.”

Then Louis married the Princess Tronkolaine, and he succeeded to the throne of the old king, his godfather, who had no children. He brought his old father and mother to the court, and also his brothers and his sisters, whom he established very magnificently.

F. M. LUZEL,
“Cinquième Rapport sur une Mission en Bretagne.”

THE END

Transcriber's Notes:

Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.

Perceived typographical errors have been changed.