Chapter III: Part 3

A cat was sitting on a gate-post. “Puss, puss, catch rat,” called the old woman. “Rat won’t gnaw rope, rope won’t hang butcher, butcher won’t kill ox, ox won’t drink water, water won’t quench fire, fire won’t burn stick, stick won’t beat dog, dog won’t bite pig, and I shan’t get home till midnight with my pail of fine ripe blackberries.”

“No,” answered puss, “I am very comfortable sitting here. Why should I disturb myself just to please you. But if you will get the red cow to give you a saucerful of milk for me then I will catch the rat.”

So the little old woman tied the pig to the stile, and then she climbed over the fence into the field where the red cow was standing.

“Please, good cow, give me a saucerful of milk for puss,” she said, “so that puss will catch the rat that won’t gnaw the rope that won’t hang the butcher who won’t kill the ox that won’t drink the water that won’t quench the fire that won’t burn the stick that won’t beat the dog that won’t bite the pig that won’t go over the stile so that I can get home before midnight with my pail of fine ripe blackberries.”

Said the cow, “If you will go over yonder to where the haymakers are working and fetch me a wisp of hay to eat, then I will give you the milk.”

So the little old woman went over to the haymakers and said, “Please, good kind haymakers, give me a wisp of hay to give to the cow so that she may give me some milk to give to the cat.”

The haymakers were very hot and thirsty and they said, “Very well; if you will go down to the stream and fetch us a pailful of water we will give you the hay.”

So the little old woman emptied out her blackberries on the ground very carefully and then she hurried down to the stream and brought back to the haymakers a pailful of fresh cool water.

The haymakers drank deep of it and then they gave the little old woman all the hay she wanted. She put the blackberries back in the pail and hurried back to the cow with the hay.

The cow gladly gave her a saucerful of milk in return for the hay.

The old woman took the milk to the cat, and while puss was drinking it the old woman untied the rope that fastened the pig to the stile.

Puss finished the milk and licked up the last drop of it, and then she bounded down beside the stile and began to catch the rat.

The rat squeaked with terror and began to gnaw the rope.

The rope began to hang the butcher, the butcher began to kill the ox, the ox began to drink the water, the water began to quench the fire, the fire began to burn the stick, the stick began to beat the dog, the dog began to bite the pig, and the pig squealed at the top of its lungs and scrambled over the stile and ran for home so fast that the little old woman could hardly keep up with it.

They got home in less than no time; it wasn’t even midday, and the little old woman had her blackberries for dinner, and what was left over she gave to the pig.

THE WHITE CAT

There was once a king who had three sons, and he loved them all so tenderly that each one was dearer to him than the others. He loved them all so well that he could not make up his mind to which one to leave his kingdom. He thought and thought, and then he called his wise old councilor to him and asked his advice.

“Your Majesty,” said the Councilor, “you love all three of the princes equally, and so my advice is to leave the kingdom to the one who loves you best.”

“But I do not know which one loves me best,” said the King.

“Then set them three tasks. The one who performs the tasks the best, and who takes the most trouble to please you,—he must be the one who bears you the most love.”

This advice pleased the King, and he sent for his three sons, and told them what he had decided to do. “I have,” said he, “a great wish for a little dog to amuse me. I will give you a year in which to find me the smallest and prettiest little dog in the world. Whichever of you will bring me such a dog shall receive a third of my kingdom.”

As soon as the princes heard this they were eager to set out in search of such a dog. The two older brothers were sure one of them would find it, for they did not think much of their younger brother. Each one rode away to a great city, and went to the best dog dealers there. The eldest son bought a little white dog no larger than a small kitten, and very pretty and playful. The second son bought a red dog so small it could curl up in the palm of his hand. Each was content with his choice, and rode home without searching further.

The King was delighted with the dogs they brought, and his sons wished him to decide at once as to which of them deserved the kingdom, but this the King would not do. “No, no,” said he, “we must wait until your brother comes. He can hardly find another dog as pretty as these, but still it is only right to wait until he returns, or until the year is up.”

Meanwhile the youngest prince had ridden on and on, much farther than either of his other brothers. Everywhere he asked for dogs, and hundreds of them were brought to him, big and little, fat and thin, black and white, and gray and red and yellow. But not one of them was what the Prince wanted.

At last one day he came to a deep forest. A storm had risen; the Prince was wet to the skin with rain, and covered with mud. He saw a light before him shining through the trees, and he rode toward it. He hoped he might find there some shelter for the night.

What was his surprise, as he drew near the light, to see it came from a magnificent palace that had been built here in the deep forest far away from any city. The Prince knocked at the door and at once it opened before him. He went in and looked about him, but he saw no one, though invisible hands closed the door behind him. An unseen hand took his and he was led through several rooms to a handsome chamber that seemed to have been made ready for him. His wet and muddy clothes were removed and he was dressed in a suit of white and silver; but with all this he still saw no one.

He was then led to a banquet hall where a fine feast was laid out.

Suddenly, while the Prince stood looking about him there was a sound of trumpets; the doors opposite to him swung open, and a strange procession marched into the room. First, walking upright came a small and very pretty white cat. She was dressed all in black, and wore a long black veil, and an ebony crown. She was followed by other cats. Some of these were dressed as ladies-in-waiting, some as courtiers, and some as trumpeters.

The White Cat came up to the Prince and bade him welcome. “I saw you as you rode through the forest,” she said, “and this feast was made ready for you. Come, Prince, let us take our places at the table and eat.”

The cat then seated herself at the head of the table and motioned the Prince to sit beside her.

Unseen hands at once served them with the most rare and delicious dishes. The cat ate daintily, and the Prince noticed that she touched nothing but some oddly cooked birds, and some cream.

He himself was hungry and ate of everything, and while he ate the White Cat talked to him with so much sense and wit that he was delighted with her.

After supper the White Cat left him and he was led by invisible hands to a magnificent chamber, where he spent the night.

The next morning when he awoke he found a hunting-suit of green laid out for him, and high riding-boots and a plumed hat. Unseen hands dressed him, and food was served to him in a breakfast-room hung about with curtains of satin embroidered with gold.

After he had eaten, the Prince went in search of the White Cat. He found her in the courtyard. She and her attendants and several cats dressed as huntsmen were about to set out on a hunt. She invited the Prince to go with them, and he gladly accepted.

A troop of monkeys all saddled and bridled were led up to the palace steps. The Prince looked on in wonder while the White Cat sprang upon the back of the largest and finest monkey. The other cats also mounted, but as the Prince was too large to ride a monkey a large wooden horse on wheels was brought for him to ride. This seemed so absurd to the Prince that he was about to refuse, but the White Cat motioned him to it so politely that he was ashamed to say no. He sprang to the back of the wooden steed, and at once he felt it move and stir under him as though it were alive. The cat-huntsmen sounded their horns, and away the hunting-party went. The White Cat and the Prince rode first, and the Prince found the wooden horse rolled along so smoothly and swiftly that nothing could have been pleasanter.

The day was spent in hunting through the forest, and in the evening there was another grand feast at the palace, this time with music and dancing. The dancers were six large black cats dressed in spangled clothes, and their leaps and bounds and twirlings were wonderful. The Prince had never been so well amused in his life before.

Day after day slipped by, and still the Prince stayed at the White Cat’s palace, and he was so happy there that he quite forgot his father and the kingdom he had hoped to win. The year had passed, all but three days, when suddenly the Prince remembered his errand. He was filled with dismay, for now it was too late for him to seek for a little dog, and he feared he had lost all chance of winning the kingdom.

But the White Cat saw his trouble. “Do not be dismayed, Prince,” she said. “I know the errand that brought you here, and I am ready to help you.” She then handed him an acorn. “Here,” she said, “take this and you will find in it the thing you seek.”

The Prince thought the cat was mocking him, but she bade him put the acorn to his ear and listen. When he did this he could hear from within the acorn a sound of barking as thin and small as the squeaking of a mouse.

“Do not open it until you reach home,” said the White Cat. “Then, when your father sees what is inside of it he will know that you are the one who deserves the kingdom.”

The Prince thanked the cat, and mounted his own horse, which had been brought from the stables, and rode on home. Just before he reached his father’s palace he bought an ugly dog from a beggar, and took it with him.

When he entered the palace he went at once to the room where his father sat upon his throne with his two elder sons by him.

When the two princes saw their younger brother enter the court with the ugly dog at his heels they laughed aloud with scorn. They felt very sure that now the kingdom would belong to them.

The King was very much offended. He spoke to the young Prince harshly. “Why do you bring such an ugly cur to my court?” he asked. “Have you no more respect for my wishes than to present me with such a dog as that?”

The Prince, however, answered gently, “Dear father, have patience for a moment and I may offer you something that will please you better.”

He then drew out the acorn and opened it. Inside it was a tiny satin cushion, and upon this cushion lay a dog so small and so exquisite that the King was filled with wonder. He could scarcely believe his eyes.

“Truly you deserve to have the kingdom at once,” cried he, “but I have promised that there shall be three trials before I give the kingdom to any one of you.”

The King then told the princes that he wished them to bring him a piece of muslin so fine and delicate that it could be drawn through the eye of a needle. Whichever one succeeded best should receive at least a part of the kingdom.

The three princes at once set out on this new errand. The elder brothers sought out the dealers in great cities as before, but the youngest Prince rode straight to the castle of the White Cat.

The cat received him kindly. “I know what is required of you,” she said. “Do not trouble yourself in the matter. Stay here with me, and when the proper time arrives you shall have what is needed.”

So the Prince stayed there in the White Cat’s palace for a year, all but three days, and the time passed even more pleasantly than before. At the end of that time the White Cat gave a walnut to the Prince. “Take this,” she said, “and do not open it until you are at home again. Within it you will find what you desire.”

The Prince took the walnut and rode away. When he reached the court his brothers were already there. Each had brought with him a piece of muslin so fine that it would pass through the eye of a darning-needle, but they could not draw it through the eye of a cambric needle.

Then the third Prince took out the walnut and cracked it. Within it he expected to see a piece of muslin, but instead he found only a hazel-nut. He cracked the hazel-nut and inside of it was a cherry-stone. He cracked the cherry-stone and inside of it was a grain of wheat. The Prince began to fear the White Cat had deceived him, and that he must lose the kingdom. As for his brothers, they laughed aloud and mocked at him.

“What trick is this that you are playing on us?” they asked. “If you have the muslin show it to us, and if not then confess to our father that you have failed.”

Without answering, the Prince cracked the grain of wheat, and inside it was a millet-seed. His heart sank. However, he cracked the millet seed, and there was the piece of muslin the cat had promised to him. He shook it out and there were ells and ells of it and all as fine as gossamer. Never had such a piece of cloth been seen before. The King looked and wondered and admired. The muslin was so fine it could be drawn not only through the eye of a darning-needle, but through the eye of a cambric needle as well.

“This is a wonderful piece of cloth,” said the King to the young Prince. “You have indeed again deserved the kingdom, but there is one more task to be performed before I can give it to anyone. I wish you to bring to me the most beautiful princess in the world. Whichever of you can do this shall receive at least a half of the kingdom.”

When the elder brothers heard this they were in haste to set out. The youngest brother had already brought to their father the smallest and prettiest dog in the world, and the finest piece of muslin, but with good luck one of them might still bring to him the most beautiful princess. They journeyed away to far kingdoms where there were princesses who were famed for their beauty; but the youngest prince rode no place at all but to the palace of the White Cat.

The cat welcomed him even more kindly than before. “I know what you have come to seek,” said she. “This matter is not so easy as the others were. But do not be downhearted. I will help you when the proper time comes.”

Again the days passed pleasantly in the White Cat’s castle, and the Prince was well content to stay there. He was so happy that a whole year, all but a day, slipped by before he thought about it. Then one morning he awoke, and remembered that the next day he must be back at the King’s palace with the most beautiful princess in the world, if he were to win the kingdom. “Alas, alas!” he cried. “The kingdom is certainly lost to me. I have no time left to seek for a princess, and moreover it is a three days’ journey back to the palace. Before I reach there the kingdom will certainly have been divided between my brothers.”

“Have I not promised to help you?” asked the cat. “Why do you trouble yourself? If you do exactly as I tell you the kingdom will be yours; and not that kingdom only, but others beside.”

The cat then told the Prince to draw his sword and cut off her head, but the Prince refused to do such an act. He was filled with horror at the bare thought of it.

The White Cat began to weep bitterly. “What have I not done for you?” she cried; “and you will not do even this one thing for me.”

She wept and lamented so bitterly that at last the Prince could refuse no longer. He drew his sword to cut off the cat’s head, but at the same time he closed his eyes that he might not see the cruel deed.

When he opened his eyes again what was his wonder to see no cat, but a beautiful princess who stood before him smiling. Never had he seen such beauty before.

“Prince,” said the Princess, “you have saved me from a cruel fate. I was taken by the fairies when I was a baby and lived with them as a daughter until I grew up. Then I made them angry because I would not marry a very rich and ugly dwarf who was a friend of theirs. They then changed me and all my companions into cats, and we were obliged to live in these shapes until some young and kind-hearted prince would cut off my head. This you have done, and now we are all restored to our proper shapes again. This shows me that the fairies have forgiven me and will give me back the two kingdoms that were mine by rights.”

The Princess, a cat no longer, then ordered the wooden horse to be brought to the door. She and the Prince mounted upon it, and away they went, so fast that the wind whistled past their ears. The three day’s journey was made in less than a day, and when the Prince led the Princess into court, everyone was obliged to own that now he had indeed fairly won the kingdom. His two brothers had also brought home with them beautiful princesses, but neither could compare in beauty with the bride of the youngest Prince; for his bride she had promised to be.

As soon as a feast could be prepared, she and the young Prince were married.

As the Princess had already two kingdoms of her own she begged the old King to divide his kingdom between his two elder sons. This was done, the older princes were married to the beauties they had brought home with them, and they all lived in love and happiness forever after.

BRITTLE-LEGS

There was once a man who was such a boaster that scarcely a word he said was true. One day he was talking with some companions and he said, “I have no need to work or worry over anything. I could be richer than the King himself if I chose, for I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold.”

A nobleman who was passing by overheard this, and he went to the King and repeated to him what the man had said.

Now the King of that country was very fond of gold; he never could have enough of it. He at once sent to the boaster’s house and had him and his daughter brought to the palace. They were brought to where the King sat, and the King said, “I hear that you have boasted that your daughter can spin straw into gold. Is that true?”

The man was very much frightened when he heard this, but he was afraid to deny what he had already said.

“Yes, your majesty, that is what I said,” he answered.

“Very well,” said the King. “We shall soon know whether you have spoken the truth or not. I have had a large room made ready for your daughter. It is filled with straw. I will have her taken to it, and if she spins it into gold you shall be well rewarded, but if she fails you shall both be punished severely.”

Both the father and daughter were terrified at these words. They did not know what would become of them. The boaster was allowed to go home, but the girl was taken to a large room filled with straw, and was left there. She sat and cried and cried.

Presently the door opened and a crooked little brown dwarf came into the room.

“Tut, tut, what a noise,” said he. “Why are you crying so bitterly.”

“I am crying because the King has put me here to spin this straw into gold, and I do not know how to set about it.”

“That should not be such a hard matter. What will you give me if I do it for you?”

“This necklace around my neck,” said the girl.

“Very well, give it to me.” The dwarf took the necklace and sat down to the spinning wheel, and it did not take him long to spin all the straw into gold—heaps and heaps of it. Then he hopped away, and no one saw him come or go but the girl.

Early the next morning the King came to see how the girl was getting on. When he saw the room full of glittering gold instead of straw he was filled with joy and wonder. But for all that he was not satisfied. He led the girl into a still larger room, and it, too, was full of straw.

“You have done very well,” said he, “but I expect you to do still better. Spin this straw into gold for me and the reward shall not be lacking.” Then he went away, leaving the girl alone.

She sat and cried and cried.

Presently the door opened, and the same little dwarf came hopping into the room.

“What will you give me,” said he, “if I spin this straw into gold for you?”

“I will give you the gold ring from my finger,” answered the girl.

The dwarf sat down at the spinning wheel, and soon all the straw was spun into gold. Then the dwarf took the ring from the girl’s finger and went away.

The next day, when the King came and saw all the gold he was even more delighted than before. He was now as rich as any emperor, but even yet he was not content. He took the girl into a still larger room, and it, like the others, was full of straw.

“If you will spin this, too, into gold, then you shall be my bride,” said he.

The King had scarcely left her before the dwarf came hopping into the room. “Well,” said he, “what will you give me this time if I spin the straw into gold for you?”

“Alas, alas!” cried the girl, “I have nothing more to give.”

“Promise me that if the King marries you, you will give me your first child, and I will help you,” said the dwarf.

At first the girl did not want to promise this, but then she thought that after all it was very unlikely the King would marry her, and even if he did she might never have a child. “Very well,” said she, “I promise.”

The dwarf laughed aloud and snapped his fingers with joy. Then he sat down at the spinning wheel and spun till the wheel whirred. You could scarcely see it, it flew so fast. Soon all the straw was spun. “There,” said he, “now you will not need me again. But do not forget your promise, for at the right time I shall certainly come to claim the child.” Then he hopped away, laughing as he went.

Not long afterward the King came into the room. He could wait no longer to see whether the girl had finished her task. When he saw the heaps of gold, more than ever before, he hardly knew what to do with himself, he was so happy.

“Now I am satisfied,” said he. “You shall be my wife, as I promised, and your father shall be brought to court and become a great nobleman.”

As the King said, so it was done. He and the girl were married, and her father was sent for to come and live at the court.

And now the girl was very happy. She loved the King, and she had forgotten all about the promise she had made to the dwarf.

At the end of a year a fine little child was born to the Queen. The whole kingdom was filled with rejoicings. As to the King he was almost beside himself with joy.

One day, as the Queen was sitting by the baby’s cradle, the door opened, and the crooked little dwarf hopped into the room. When the Queen saw him she turned as white as paper.

“Well,” said the dwarf, “and are you ready to keep the promise you made when I spun the straw into gold for you?”

Then the Queen began to beg and entreat that the dwarf would leave the baby with her, and not take it away. She offered him gold and jewels, and even the golden crown from her head, if he would only leave her the child. But no—no—the dwarf had gold and jewels, more than he cared for. It was the young Prince he wanted.

At last he said, “Listen, I will give you one chance. If within three days you can guess what my name is you shall keep the child, but if you fail in this then you must give him to me, and no more words about it.”

To this the Queen agreed willingly, for she had no fear but what she could guess the dwarf’s name.

As soon as he had gone she sent out to all the neighbors round to learn what were the names of all the men they knew, and when the dwarf came the next day she was ready for him.

“Was his name John?” “No, it was not.” “Was it Henry?” “No.” “Was it James or Conrad or Phillip or Habbakuk?” “No, no, no; it was none of them.” The Queen went over all the names she had learned, but not one of them was the right one, and the dwarf went away rejoicing.

The next day he came again and the Queen had a fresh list of names ready, for she had sent out messengers far and wide, and they had brought back every name they could hear of. But the dwarf said no to all of them. Not one of them was right. Then the Queen’s heart sank within her, but she plucked up courage, and as soon as the dwarf had gone, sent out other messengers, but these brought back not a single name but those she knew already. The Queen was in despair. She sat at the window and waited for the dwarf to come, and she held the baby in her arms.

Then she heard the King’s forester talking to his sweetheart in the courtyard below. He had heard nothing of how the Queen had sent far and wide to gather names, for he had been off in the forest for three days. The forester told his sweetheart how he had lost his way in the forest the night before. Then he had come to a hollow, and it was full of rocks, and a red fire was burning among them. Around this fire a crooked little dwarf was dancing and as he danced he sang:

“To-day I brew, to-night I bake,
To-morrow I the young prince take,
For none could guess, unless they were told
That Brittle-Legs is the name I hold.”

When the Queen heard that, she laughed aloud. Then she arose and put the baby down, and sent word to the forester that he should tell no one else of what he had seen in the forest.

Not long afterward the dwarf came as usual.

“Well, and have you guessed my name?” he asked; “for if you have not I must have the child.”

The Queen pretended to be in great trouble. “Is it—is it Short-Shanks?” she asked.

“No,” cried the dwarf and his eyes shone like sparks.

“Is it Long-Arms?”

“No,” shouted the dwarf, and he hopped up and down with joy.

“Is it—is it by any chance Brittle-Legs?”

When the Queen said that the dwarf gave a scream of rage. His face grew first as black as thunder, and then as red as fire.

“Someone has told you! Someone has told you!” he shrieked and he stamped so hard that his foot sank down into the floor and he could not pull it out, so he shook it off and hopped away, leaving one leg behind him, and what became of him after that nobody ever knew. But the Queen lived happy and untroubled forever after.

“I WENT UP ONE PAIR OF STAIRS,” ETC.

Now I will tell you a joke; whatever I say to you, you must answer “Just like me.” Now we will begin.

I went up one pair of stairs.

_Just like me._

I went up two pair of stairs.

_Just like me._

I turned myself round about.

_Just like me._

I went up three pair of stairs.

_Just like me._

I made a cross on the wall.

_Just like me._

I went up four pair of stairs.

_Just like me._

I looked out of a window.

_Just like me._

And I found I was up as high as the highest tree-top.

_Just like me._

I saw something moving about in the highest tree-top.

_Just like me._

I stared and stared to see what it was.

_Just like me._

And then I saw it was a little monkey.

_Just like me._

Just like you! Ha, ha! You said the monkey was just like you; I think you must be a little monkey yourself if it looked just like you.

* * * * *

Now I will tell you something else. I will say _one_ and then you must say _two_; I will say _three_, and you must say _four_ and so on; but each time we must say after the number “a dead horse.” Like this. I say _one_ a dead horse, and you must say _two_ a dead horse.

Now begin.

One a dead horse.

_Two a dead horse._

Three a dead horse.

_Four a dead horse._

Five a dead horse.

_Six a dead horse._

Seven a dead horse.

_Eight a dead horse._

Eight a dead horse! Ate a dead horse! You said you ate a dead horse. Oh! oh! Did it taste good? I hope you enjoyed it. For my part I wouldn’t care to eat a dead horse.

* * * * *

Now I will tell you what kind of a lock I am, and you must be the same kind of a key. If I say I am a gray lock, you must say you are a gray key. If I say I am a queer lock you must say you are a queer key. If I say I am a rusty lock you must say you are a rusty key.

I am a gray lock.

_I’m a gray key._

I’m a red lock.

_I’m a red key._

I’m a dull lock.

_I’m a dull key._

I’m a monk lock.

_I’m a monk key._

You’re a monkey! You’re a monkey. That’s the second time you’ve said it, so now I’m sure it must be so. Well, what other kinds of locks and keys are we? Let us begin all over again.

I’m a don lock.

_I’m a don key._

Are you indeed? Are you really a dear little donkey? Who would have thought it?

THE STRAW, THE COAL, AND THE BEAN

A bean and a hot coal met each other on the highroad, and as they were both rolling along in the same direction they soon struck up a friendship.

Presently they were joined by a straw, and the three began talking together. They were all going out in the world to seek their fortunes.

“It is just a bit of luck that I can travel about in this way,” said the bean. “If I had not been a stout active fellow I would have been boiled into soup by now. The mistress was about to throw me into the pot with a lot of other beans, but I managed to slip through her fingers and rolled out through the doorway and down the steps without her even noticing I was gone.”

“That was a clever trick,” said the hot coal. “I, too, am a lively chap. I and my brothers were set to heat a kettle, but I jumped out of the fire, and I was so hot the cook did not dare to touch me. She pushed me out of doors with her foot, and now I am free to go about the world as I choose, and seek my fortune.”

The straw sighed. “I was never as active as that,” she said. “Always wherever the wind blew me I went. The farmer had picked up a whole armful of straws to make a bed for the cow; but the wind caught me up and carried me off—and here I am.”

While they were talking in this way the comrades came to a brook, and this stopped their journey, for they did not know how to get across. The straw could easily have sailed over on the first puff of wind, but that way would not do for the other two.

“Listen!” said the straw. “I am long enough to reach from one side of the stream to the other. I will lay myself across it like a bridge, and then you can both walk on over me without getting wet.”

To this plan the other two were glad to agree, so the straw laid herself across the stream.

“You go first,” said the bean, for he was a cautious fellow, and wanted to see whether the bridge was safe before he tried it.

The coal, however, was quick and fiery. He ran out on the straw, but half-way over he grew dizzy and had to stop.

“Quick! quick!” cried the straw. “I am burning”; for the coal was still very hot.

“Wait,” said the coal, balancing himself. “Just a minute!”

But the straw could not wait even for a minute. The coal had burned through it, and down they both went into the water, the coal hissing as it fell.

That seemed so comical to the bean that it began to laugh. It laughed and laughed; it laughed so hard that at last it split its skin, and that would have been the end of it if a tailor had not chanced to come by just then.

“Help! help!” cried the bean.

The tailor looked all about him, and then he saw the bean lying on the ground. He picked it up, and it did not take him long to see what was the matter with it. “This slit can be easily mended,” said he, and he whipped out his needle and thread and sewed up the bean in a trice. Unluckily he had only black thread, and the stitches made a line of black down the side of the bean. And ever since then, if you look, you will see that every bean of that kind has a black line down one side of it.

THE WATER-SPRITE

A little brother and sister were playing one day on the edge of a well that belonged to a water-sprite. The little girl held her brother’s hand, and leaned far over to look down into it.

“It seems to me that down below there I can see green meadows and flocks of sheep moving over them,” she said.

“It is only the reflection of the clouds,” said the little boy. “But be careful. I fear you will fall in.”

Even as he spoke the little girl slipped and fell into the well, and as she had hold of her brother’s hand she pulled him in after her.

The two children went down—down—down—through the waters, and when they came to the bottom they found themselves in a country of green meadows and trees and streams, and before them stood a shining castle with domes and towers.

This castle belonged to the water-sprite who owned the well.

The little brother and sister went up to the castle and knocked at the door, and at once the water-sprite opened it to them.

“Come in, come in,” said she. “I saw you playing on the edge of the well, and it was I who caused you to fall in. I am lonely here, so you shall stay with me and be my servants, and whatever I bid you do that you must do.”

The water-sprite would have been beautiful if only she had not been so green. Her face was green and her hair was green, and her eyes were green. Only her teeth were white.

The sprite led the children into the kitchen and there she gave the little girl a bucket that had no bottom. “Go,” said she, “and fetch me some water to boil the dumplings for supper. And you,” said she to the boy, “must cut me some wood,” and she gave him an ax that had no edge. It was as blunt as a hammer.

The little sister went out to the spring that the water-sprite showed her, and tried to dip up water, but as fast as she dipped it up it ran out again, for the bucket had no bottom.

The brother began to chop at a tree near by. He chopped and he chopped and he chopped, but he could scarcely make a dent, the ax was so blunt.

When the children came back to the castle without either wood or water, the sprite was very cross with them. “I can easily see that you are both very stupid,” said she. “But sit down; sit down at the table. Even if you are stupid I suppose you must eat.”

The children sat down at the table, and the water-sprite set before them a dish of dumplings, but as the dumplings had not been cooked and were only dough the children could not eat them. They slipped them into their pockets, and then, when the sprite was not looking they gave the dumplings to the water-cat that rubbed about their chairs.

After that the children went to bed and slept.

The next day it was the same thing over again. The water-sprite set them tasks that they could not possibly do, and gave them only dough to eat, so the children made up their minds to run away. They waited, however, until afternoon, when the water-sprite went up to the top of the well to look about her.

When they were about to set out, the water-cat said to them, “You do well to run away. You would not be happy here. But do not think my mistress will allow you to escape if she can help it. When she comes home and finds you gone, she will at once set out in pursuit of you. She can go very much faster than you, and she will certainly catch you unless you take with you her comb, her brush, and her mirror. These are magic things. Each time you find she is about to catch you, throw one or other of these things over your shoulder. By this means, and by this means only, can you hope to escape.”

The children thanked the little cat, and did as it advised them. They took the water-sprite’s brush and comb and mirror, and carried them off with them, and ran as fast as they could along the road that led to the upper world.

Soon after they had left, the water-sprite came home. When she found them gone she only stopped long enough to scold the cat, and then she put on her shoes of swiftness and started after them.

Presently the children looked behind them and saw her coming. She came so fast on her shoes of swiftness, that it seemed as though they could not possibly escape her.

However, the children remembered what the water-cat had told them. They threw the comb behind them, and at once it spread and grew into a wall of spikes, tremendously stiff and high. It took the water-sprite a long time to climb over this wall, and the children were well on their way before they heard her behind them again.

Then the little girl threw the brush over her shoulder. At once the brush became a great thick forest, through which the water-sprite could hardly find her way.

But she got through it at last, and then it did not take her long to be at their heels again.

“And now we have only one more thing left,” said the brother, and he threw the mirror behind him.

At once the mirror became a hill of glass so steep and smooth that no one could possibly climb it. The sprite tried to run up it, but no sooner had she gone a step or so than she slipped back again. At last, with a shriek of rage, she turned and fled back to her castle, and that was the last of her.

But the children went on their way, and the road led them straight to the upper world and the door of their home. After that they were always careful to keep away from the edge of the water-sprite’s well.

STAR JEWELS

A little girl once lived all alone with her old grandmother upon the borders of a forest. They were so poor that they were scarcely able to buy food for their mouths, or clothes to cover them.

“Never mind, Granny,” the little girl would say. “Some day I will be big enough to work, and then I will earn so much that I will be able to buy everything that we need, and to give something to other poor folk as well.”

One day the child went off into the forest to gather fagots. These she hoped to sell for a few pennies in the town over beyond the hill. She was to be gone all day, so she took with her into the forest a bit of the black bread, which was all they had left to eat.

It was winter, and the air was bitterly cold. The child wrapped her little shawl about her, and ran on as fast as she could. She was hungry, but she intended to save her crust until after the fagots were gathered.

Just as she reached the edge of the forest she met a boy, even smaller than she herself, and he was crying bitterly.

The little girl had a tender heart. She stopped and asked the child why he was weeping.

“I am weeping,” he answered, “because I am hungry.”

“Have you had nothing to eat to-day?” she asked.

“I have had nothing, and I am like to starve, for I know not where to go for food.”

The little girl sighed. “You are, perhaps, hungrier than I,” she said, and she took the crust from her pocket and gave it to the boy. Then she again hurried on.

A little farther on, she met another child who was even more miserable-looking than the first, for this child seemed almost frozen with cold. Her clothing hung about her in rags, and her skin looked blue through the rents.

“Ah,” cried she, “if I had but a warm little dress like yours! Help me, I pray of you, or I will certainly die of cold.”

The good little girl was filled with pity. “It is not right,” thought she, “that I should have both a dress and a shawl. I will give one of them to this poor child.”

She took off her dress and gave it to the child, and then wrapped the shawl closely about her shoulders. In spite of the shawl she felt very cold. Still she was near the place where the fagots were to be found, and as soon as she had gathered them she would run home again.

She hastened on, but when she reached the place where the fagots were she saw an old woman already there, gathering up the fallen wood. The old woman was so bent and poor and miserable-looking that the little girl’s heart ached for her.

“Oh, oh!” groaned the old woman. “How my poor bones do ache. If I had but a shawl to wrap about my shoulders I would not suffer so.”

The child thought of her own grandmother, and of how she sometimes suffered, and she had pity on the old woman.

“Here,” said she, “take my shawl”; and slipping it from her shoulders she gave it to the old woman.

And now she stood there in the forest with her arms and shoulders bare, and with nothing on her but her little shift. The sharp wind blew about her, but she was not cold. She had eaten nothing, but she was not hungry. She was fed and warmed by her own kindness.

She gathered her fagots and started home again. It was growing dusk, and the stars shown through the bare branches of the trees. Suddenly an old man stood beside her. “Give me of your fagots,” said he, “for my hearth is cold, and I am too old to gather wood for myself.”

The little girl sighed. If she gave him the fagots she would have to stop to gather more. Still she would not refuse him. “Take them,” she said, “in heaven’s name.”

No sooner had she said this than she saw it was not an old man who stood before her, but a shining angel.

“You have fed the hungry,” said the angel, “you have clothed the naked, and you have given help to those who asked it. You shall not go unrewarded. See!”

At once a light shone around the child, and it seemed to her that all the stars of heaven were falling through the bare branches of the trees, but these stars were diamonds and rubies and other precious stones. They lay thick upon the ground. “Gather them together,” said the angel, “for they are yours.”

Wondering, the child gathered them together—all that she could carry in the skirt of her little shift.

When she looked about her again the angel was gone, but the child hastened home with her treasure. It was enough to make her and her old grandmother rich. From then on they lacked for nothing. They were not only able to have all they wished for, but to give to many who were poor. So they were not only rich, but beloved by all who knew them.

SWEET PORRIDGE

There was once a poor widow who had only one daughter, a child who was so good and gentle that everyone who knew her, loved her.

One day the child went into the forest to gather firewood, and she was very sad because there was nothing left in the house to eat, and because she and her mother were so often obliged to go hungry.

She had already gathered a bundle of sticks, and was about to go home, when she saw a poor old woman who had also come to the forest for wood. The woman was so bent and stiff that it was pitiful to see her. The child felt sorry for her and wished to help her.

“Good mother,” said she, “let me gather the wood for you; it must be hard for you to stoop.”

She put down her own load, and gathered for the old woman as much as she was able to carry. “I would take it home for you,” said the little girl, “but my mother is waiting for me, and I must make haste, for I am already late.”

“Child,” said the old woman, “you have a good heart, and you deserve to be rewarded.” She then drew out from under her cloak a little iron pot. “Take this,” she said. “It is a magic pot. Whenever you are hungry you have only to say—

“‘Boil little pot
Till the porridge is hot,’

and it will begin to boil and fill up with sweet porridge. When you have had enough say—

“‘Cease little pot,
The porridge is hot,’

and it will stop boiling.”

She made the child repeat the words after her several times, and she then gave her the pot and hobbled away through the forest.

The child was filled with joy at the thought that now she and her mother need never be hungry again. She ran home as fast as she could, carrying the pot with both hands.

When she came in her mother asked her where the wood was.

“I have brought home something better than wood,” cried the child. “The wood only warms us, but here is something that will feed us as well.” She set the pot upon the table and said:

“Boil little pot
Till the porridge is hot.”

The pot at once began to bubble and boil, and soon it was full and brimming over with sweet porridge. The widow caught up a spoon and dipped some of the porridge out into a bowl, but the more she dipped out the more there was in it. When all the bowls in the house were full, the child said:

“Cease little pot,
The porridge is hot,”

and at once the pot stopped boiling.

The widow was overjoyed at the treasure the little girl had brought home. “Come,” cried she, “let us sit down and eat.”

“Yes, dear mother,” said the child, “but first I will carry some of the porridge to the neighbors who were so kind to us when we had nothing.”

She filled a large kettle with porridge and started out with it, but no sooner had she gone than the widow began to wonder whether they had kept enough for themselves. She did not feel satisfied, so she said to the pot:

“Boil little pot
Till the porridge is hot.”

Immediately the pot began to bubble and boil. Soon it was full and the porridge began to run over. The widow wished to stop it, but she had forgotten what to say. “Enough!” she cried. “Stop! Stop!” but the porridge still boiled up and over the edge of the pot. The widow caught up the spoon and again began dipping out the porridge; she dipped as fast as she could. Soon all the pots and pans in the house were full and still the pot continued to boil out porridge. In despair the widow seized the pot and threw it outside the door, but the porridge flowed out from it in a stream, and ran down the road.

The little girl was coming home when she met the stream of porridge, and at once she guessed what had happened. She ran as fast as she could and when she came to the place where the pot lay she cried:

“Cease little pot,
The porridge is hot.”

At once the pot stopped boiling, but already enough porridge had been wasted to have fed the whole countryside.

After that the widow never again dared to tell the pot to boil. When they wished for porridge it was the child who spoke to it. But from then on she and her mother never lacked for anything, for the porridge was so delicious that people came from far and near to buy from them.

CHICKEN-DIDDLE

One day Chicken-diddle had gone to sleep under a rose-bush, and a cow reached over the fence and bit off the top of the rose-bush. The noise wakened Chicken-diddle, and just as she woke a rose-leaf fell on her tail.