Chapter III: Part 3

"Claiming kin again, Abraham," said Ruth. "Look out for your life next time."

"Strangle the hypocrite," said one.

"Give the impudent whelp a bath in the mill-pond," said another.

"No," said the parson, "let him confess."

"Gentlemen," said he, "I am innocent. If I stole the bag of money, why should I leave my saddlebags behind, with my name on them, and one side of which is full of money?"

The saddlebags were now examined by the crowd, and the stranger's statements found to be true.

"Then," said he, "why should I encumber myself this way? In fact, how could I? It would be impossible."

This somewhat appeased the crowd, until someone suggested that maybe he took the bag of money outside to hide it, intending to come back and get his own property; but as daylight overtook him he hired someone to gag and cord him in that way. On hearing this one man grabbed the prisoner by the foot and started to drag him to the cistern again. In so doing one boot was pulled off, out of which fell a picture.

"Here, Abraham," said Ruth, handing him the picture, "this may be all you will ever get for your bag of money."

Abraham took the picture and looked at it closely.

"Now, gentlemen," said the stranger, "a few more points, and I will have this mystery clear."

"You had better clear it quickly," said the crowd.

"Don't be too hard," said the parson. "Let him confess."

"Yes," said the stranger, "I am anxious to confess. This gentleman is really my uncle. He and my father have not met since I was born. Father and I agreed to pay him a visit. Since I have always been a funny chunk of humanity, father thought it might be well for me to come last night and twit uncle a little. He promised to arrive this morning. As I neared this house last night I saw two men standing close to the door, as though listening to what was going on inside. On seeing me they moved off at a brisk pace. Before knocking, I listened and heard Uncle Abraham and Aunt Ruth talking of their money, and what they intended to do with it the next day. Now, of course I thought the two men were listening to the same thing, and would be back in the night to rob them. After I had been admitted and had spoiled the ashcake--so that I could have a good excuse for giving them a nice little gift this morning for wronging them--and had gone to bed, it seemed I could see those two men trying to get into the house. Sleep fled my eyes; and, as I lay pondering what I would do in an emergency, I beheld the good parson here at the meal barrel. Thinking that he was one of the men I distrusted I slipped up behind him, and, after bundling him up in the fashion you beheld him, I tucked him into the closet. When the deacon came I treated him likewise, and rolled him into the cistern. The groceries they brought were put in the barrel. I could not account for this part of it, but now I see. Having disposed of the supposed robbers so nicely, Uncle Abraham put the bag of money in my keeping. Thinking I had nothing more to fear, I set the bag at my side and fell asleep. When I awoke a man was looking in the window through which the parson had climbed. As I heard no signs of another, I opened the door and grappled with him. While we were rolling over the ground a second man walked off with the money. I started to follow him, but my man clung to me so that I had to drag him a considerable distance before I could beat him off. In fact, he was so exhausted he did not rise for some time, to follow me. I caught up with the other fellow just as I neared the old well. He evidently thought I was his confederate. I said not a word, but lifted the bag from his shoulder and dropped it into the well. Seeing his mistake, he struck me a terrible blow that felled me to the ground. When I came to myself I was bound and gagged, just as these officers found me."

The crowd gazed at one another in unbelief, but decided, nevertheless, after some parley to proceed to the well to investigate the truth of the strange story the prisoner had to tell. Arrived there, a man was lowered into the well, and soon gave the signal to be drawn out, with the bag of money. Some of the crowd were still disposed to doubt the innocence of their captive. They claimed that he was one of the band, that the bag of money fell into the well by accident, and that he was beaten, bound, and gagged because he was too mean to go along with the others.

"In short," said one, "they left you here for an outraged people to dull their vengeance upon. Let every lover of justice help to string him up."

"Hold! hold," said Abraham. "This picture has a story to tell. There are two likenesses on here. One is that of a brother that I have not seen for thirty years, and the other is of the stranger here. Is this not sufficient evidence with what you have already heard? I think--guess--believe--that this is enough for---- Well, gentlemen, don't you think this is enough for me?"

"Yes," said a low-browed son of passion who was trying to put a noose around the stranger's neck, "it is enough to make this fit decently."

"Let the man have a chance to confess," cried out the parson and the deacon jointly.

"Let me have a chance to collar his neck with this noose," said the low-browed son of passion.

Then followed a struggle, in which the parson and the deacon seized the noose on either side of the fellow's neck, and kept it from being tightened. The struggle grew in intensity, so much so that none of the excited throng noticed a dignified old gentleman dismount and run up to the crowd. Abraham, standing to one side in the confusion, noted the old man's approach, gazed at him, and at once clasped him around the neck and cried: "My brother! my brother!"

Disengaging himself, and upon seeing the young man in his sorry plight, the old gentleman hurried forward crying: "My son! my son!"

The young man hearing the cry in the midst of the melee looked up and gasped, "My father! my father!"

By this time Abraham and the young man's father forced their way to the young man's side. The people fell back and scattered in all directions, leaving the young man almost exhausted. His bonds were at once cut, and he was put upon his feet and refreshed.

The young man was soon able to smile.

His Uncle Abraham and Aunt Ruth kissed him and commended his heroism.

Sometime later in the day the two real culprits were apprehended, and confessed their guilt, stating that they had overheard part of Abraham's conversation regarding the money when the young man's approach had led them to await a better hour. Thus were Abraham and Ruth vindicated; thus, too, were all doubts as to the young man's story laid at rest. Parson Prudence got the bag of money with which to buy the parsonage and bell, and Deacon Brindlebee was handsomely rewarded for his part in the comedy.

Ashcakes were never thought of again in that house, for Abraham's brother and nephew were rich, and they all lived as one family. The parsonage was erected. The bell was hung; and, as Abraham prophesied, the bell spread their fame above and the women who visited the parson's wife spread it below.

THE JACKAL AND THE LION[1]

AN AFRICAN FOLK-LORE TALE

The Jackal and the Lion were hunting in the jungle. "Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "the young elephant we seek is a good distance away. Well, it is not so far away either, but you see it will run around and around and in and out, and that will make the distance long. I see that you have a sore foot, and so long a journey might cost you your life. It would be a pity to lose your great head and pretty voice."

"It would, indeed," said the Lion. "I am glad to find someone who understands my worth."

"You see, Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "if I should get lost or killed the world would not miss me, but you, Brother Lion--you----!"

"Yes, Brother Jackal," broke in the Lion, "my place could not be filled; but do not take my greatness too seriously. You are worth a little, and that little should be saved."

"Brother Lion," continued the Jackal, "I would gladly give my whole self for your pleasure. You lie down here in the shade, keep cool and think great thoughts, while I take your spear and run down and kill the elephant that you have long desired to eat. When I have done so I will return and take you to it!"

"Very good," said the Lion. "You are kind and thoughtful. Take my spear and best wishes and be off. I can almost taste the feast now."

The Jackal took the spear, and in a short time had killed the elephant and covered the body with leaves. It then ran to another road, cut its finger and let the blood drip here and there for a great distance. Then it returned to the Lion and said: "Brother Lion, I almost lost my life in killing the elephant. Just go through yonder forest until you come to the straight road. By the elephant's blood you can trace it to the spot where it fell. As soon as I rest I'll be with you, I charge you now that to taste the meat before I come will mean death to you. This is a new law of the jungle."

The Lion went in search of the bloody path, and the Jackal returned to the elephant and began to eat. Now it happened that the Lion hurt his foot and, while binding it up, saw the Jackal eating and looking around.

When the Lion came up to the Jackal he said: "You little rascal, I have a notion to eat you for deceiving me."

"Be patient, Brother Lion; I am doing you a favor. Unless a Jackal eats of a young elephant first, its meat will kill a Lion. This is a new law of the jungle, and I am still in love with your great head and pretty voice. You remember I gave you a charge to this end."

"Yes," said the Lion, "I remember, and I thank you for saving my head and voice; but since you have tested the meat, what keeps me from eating my fill?"

"Just another new law of the jungle," said the Jackal. "This new law says that such meat must be put upon a high stone tower where the sun's rays may strike it. Then all may eat it unharmed."

"Oh, Brother Jackal," said the Lion, "how can I ever pay you for saving my head and voice?"

"In this way," replied the Jackal. "According to the law, my wife and children must be masons upon the wall, and you and yours must hand up the stones; and you see there are plenty of them about here. Of course, I remain on the ground to direct. I have told my wife and children, and they are coming. You go and bring yours."

"That suits me quite well," said the Lion. "I'll be back with mine in a short while."

When the Lion and his family had returned, the Jackal and his family had eaten half of the elephant and were dancing.

"You little rascal!" roared the Lion, "have you deceived me again?"

"Not a bit of it," replied the Jackal. "See that little bird lying dead there? That is the messenger of the new laws. By accident I killed it. The new law requires that the one who kills such a bird, and his family, must eat half the meat present as a punishment; and such a punishment as it has been! But for this new dance my wife invented we should all be dead. This means that you would be dead, too. The life of the Jackal in such a case goes into the bird. It becomes ten times as powerful as a Lion and kills everyone it meets. See?"

"I do," replied the Lion, "and thanks again for my head and voice. Let me remind you, Brother Jackal, that my wife and family are not likely to die at present from over-eating."

"Let me remind you, Brother Lion, that one more speech like that from you will put life into that bird, and you will never eat another dinner."

"Thanks, Brother Jackal, for your wisdom and kindness. Let's build the tower."

In a short time the tower was erected.

"How are we to get the meat up?" asked the Lion.

"Oh," said the Jackal, "my wife, who invented the dance, has invented a rope to pull the meat up with."

"I am glad to hear that, Brother Jackal," said the Lion, "for my wife, who is rather dull, may learn many things from yours."

"Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "when a Lion passes a compliment like that upon a Jackal's wife he had better roar it far and wide, or he will be counted a flatterer, and flattery puts life into that little bird."

The Lion roared the compliment until every beast in the jungle heard it. The Jackal's wife and children let down the rope and pulled the meat up.

"Brother Lion, there is one precaution we must take. That little bird lying there must never be allowed to come back to life, and there is but one way to do it."

"Brother Jackal, pray what is that?"

"Pick up that rock lying there by the bird. When my wife has pulled me to the top of the tower, throw it to me. If I catch it, the bird is dead forever. We will then pull you and your family up, and what a feasting there will be!"

"My dear Brother Jackal," roared the Lion, "you are all wisdom. Now you are up, and I am ready with the rock. Shall I throw it?"

"My dear Brother Lion," said the Jackal, "I am so high up I fear I shall not be able to catch it. There is one way to keep me from missing it. Put your wife right under my hands as I hold them out."

"She is there," called the Lion. "Now catch the rock." The Lion threw up the rock. The Jackal withdrew his hands, and it came back, striking the Lion's wife and almost killing her.

"You've killed Ma! you've killed Ma!" cried all the little Lions, and scampered off into the forest.

"That was a terrible mistake, Brother Lion," said the Jackal. "It was all your fault. You didn't ask me whether or not I was ready. That bird is coming to life! I feel it. Unless I can get you up here in five minutes it will be on wing and right after you. Now throw up the rock. That's right. I have it. Good for you. Here, wife, heat this rock and hand it back to me when I ask for it. You understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jackal," called the Lion, "hand your husband the rock when he asks for it, for that is indeed a precious rock."

The Jackal let down the rope, telling the Lion to tie it tightly around his body below the forearms. When this was done the Jackal began to pull the Lion up.

"Brother Lion," called the Jackal, "that little bird down there is moving."

"Sister Jackal," cried the Lion, "have you the rock?"

By this time the Jackal's wife was holding the rock with a pair of tongs, for it was very hot.

"That's right," shouted the Lion, "hold that rock carefully."

"That terrible bird!" mourned the Jackal.

"Ha, ha!" said the Jackal's wife, "I'll drop this hot rock into your mouth, and then how you'll kick and claw the air!"

She tried to drop the rock, but the tongs would not open. She then tried to drop both tongs and rock, but could not. The tongs soon began to burn her hands. In trying to throw them from her, she fell from the tower and killed herself.

The Jackal dropped the rope and so freed the Lion. The tower trembled and fell.

The little bird that the Jackal thought dead was the cause of the change. It was the spirit of the jungle and believed in fair play. It sang a sad song while the wife of the Jackal was being buried. It then sang joyously while the Lion and his wife and children, who had come back, ate the rest of the meat.

The Jackal was badly hurt and crippled by falling with the tower, yet he had to wait on the Lion and his family while they were feasting. And ever afterwards the Jackal was an outcast among animals, despised by all because of his evil and deceitful spirit.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] This story was told to me by a native African who was lecturing in this country.

THE KING'S SHOES

When King Mesina died his twin sons, Savo and Savoda, became joint heirs to the throne. This was according to the King's wishes. He thought, however, that as Savo was the older and meaner he might at some time rob his brother of his part in the kingdom. So he had placed in his will a clause to the effect that should this happen Savoda was to be the sole heir. Ere the people had ceased mourning for the King, Savo began to persecute Savoda. It mattered not what Savo did Savoda always had an excuse for him. In fact, he thought his brother angelic; and, hence, could do no wrong.

As the time for the coronation approached Savo more and more ignored and persecuted Savoda. At last he said: "Savoda, my servant, sit down in the corner and be as little as you really are while I, your king, conduct matters." Savoda obeyed with a smile upon his face, thinking that all things work together for good to him who is the son of a king and has an earthly angel for a brother.

Savo looked after the coronation in every part. He made all kinds of demands upon his people, and they gladly responded. He sent his leading captain to visit distant lands and bring back luxuries for the occasion. Everything progressed nicely until the captain returned with, as his sole cargo, an ugly dwarf.

This threw Savo into a rage. He had the captain seized, beaten and thrown into prison. When the dwarf was brought before him, he said: "Begone, human reptile! Go, dwell in the woods with your kinsmen."

"My body is small and weak, but by the power of wit shall I be remembered in the affairs of this kingdom," said the dwarf.

Savoda was still sitting in the corner, trying to smile, and to be small at the same time.

"You, sir," said Savo, pointing at Savoda, "are as impudent as this dwarf. Your stillness means plotting, and your smile means ridicule. You think that by your wit too you shall be remembered in the affairs of the kingdom? I'll see to that. My wisdom is a seine that holds fast to the big fish and crushes the minnows as they slip through. Minnow, sniff your fate. Well, you may have wit enough to dish out soup. Soldiers, to the woods with this abominable dwarf, and to the soup-house with this simpleton who dreams of being king."

After Savo had recovered from what he considered a very righteous indignation he sent for his trusty porter.

"Well, Porter," said he, "is everything ready for the coronation?"

"Everything is ready, my King, save your shoes; and to-morrow is the event. The dwarf you sent to the woods took them with him."

"Go quickly and have the same shoemaker turn your king out another pair on time."

"My king, there is no relief in that; for he went with the dwarf, and neither can be found."

"By the clearness of my conscience, is there not one other in all my vast domain that can so fit my feet that my wrath shall not be called upon to fit him?"

"There was one this morning, my King."

"Is he not now?"

"He is, my King."

"What is he doing?"

"He is shoeing his soul."

"Shoeing his soul? What mean you?"

"A shoe is used to cover something that very much needs to be covered. Is it not, my King?"

"It is."

"As you know, this shoemaker was skilled at making shoes, and especially skilled in stealing leather, my King. He believed that the ease with which a king treads upon his handiwork will blot out the theft in procuring the leather. The story runs that this morning he went to the soup-house to get his usual bowl of soup. A stranger waited upon him. As he put the bowl to his lips the soup turned clear as water, and in it appeared two pictures. The first was the likeness of the stranger before him, and on his breast was the name, 'King Savoda.' The second represented himself standing before a great white throne. His soul was uncovered, and over it were written the names of the ones from whom he had stolen leather. His soul was the shape of a boot; and there he stood trying to make a shoe to cover it from the sight of Him who sat upon the throne as the Great Judge. The longer he looked the more fearful became the second. In a fit of despair he gulped down the soup so fast that it strangled him, and he fell dead at the counter. So, my King, is he not shoeing his soul? My King, the people say that Savoda, who was a stranger to the shoemaker, knew not what he saw in the bowl. He simply thought he was weak from overwork and, in keeping with his good nature, he straightway gave him a decent burial."

"Ha, ha! The dreams of a porter frighten not his king. If there be no real workman about, find me a cobbler."

"A cobbler there is at the turn of the square, but, O my King, his failure at making you shoes will be equaled only by your success in cutting off his head."

"Porter, you are wide-awake when you speak of cutting off heads. Take this leather and my measure to the cobbler. Remind him that to-morrow is the coronation, and that no shoes for the King means no head for the cobbler."

The porter departed, and the cobbler soon received the leather and the measure and the message and, despite the gloom of the latter, he worked bravely on until he had completed his task. Being very tired, he fell asleep. When he awoke he found that the cat had turned the candle over on one of the shoes, and, as a result, the upper was burned completely out. He had received just leather enough to make the shoes, and there was no more of that kind to be had. The hour of the coronation was near at hand. What was he to do? Just then the porter came in. Without saying a word he put the shoes under his arm and carried them to the king. As soon as the king saw them he ordered the cobbler's head to be taken off.

The cobbler had hardly finished kissing his wife and children when the king's soldiers seized him and began dragging him through the streets toward the block. A terrible voice then sounded forth. It was more like thunder than that of a human being's. The soldiers knew it was the voice of the great giant Lubercal; so they left the cobbler and hastened to save themselves. After giving the cobbler something to refresh him, the giant put him in one of his coat pockets and carried him off to his mountain home. The cobbler soon found there were two others in the pocket with him.

"Ah," said they, "we are glad you are in here."

"Ah," said the cobbler, "you are no gladder than I. They were about to cut my head off out there. How relieved I feel!"

"On the life of us," said they, "we don't see where the relief comes in. As we see it, you have simply exchanged a beheading for an eating. So certain were we to be eaten by the giant and his wife for supper that we had already said our prayers. As you are so big and tender, it may be the giant will feast upon you to-night and leave us for breakfast, giving us a chance to escape in the darkness. We are told that he always refreshes the one he is going to eat first. So, you see we are glad you are in here."

By this time the giant had reached his home. He took all three out, and said to his wife: "Here they all are. Prepare the cobbler first. The other two will keep."

We must now leave the cobbler and his friends to their fate with the giant and his wife, and return to the coronation at the palace. The palace is thronged with noblemen, and Savo is pacing up and down barefooted and bareheaded. We know why he is barefooted; but why is he bareheaded? He had the crown placed upon the throne instead of on his head. He did this he said in order to start a new custom; but it was simply to hide, if possible, the mishap with the shoe.

The king and his noblemen soon sat down to supper. The order was, eat a while and boast a while. To make the events of the supper clear we must know something that took place at the gate just before the coronation.

The porter had served under the old King Mesina, and had kept fairly straight. Being a wise man, he saw that Savo was weak and his kingdom would soon fall, so he set about making himself whole. As soon as Savo cast aside the shoes because of the burnt one, he saw the possibilities of a fortune in the good one. His business that night was to sit at the palace gate and admit the guests. To every simple looking nobleman that passed he would hold up the good shoe and say: "How much am I offered for a shoe that is so fine the king will not wear it?"

At last there came a nobleman whose bluntness equaled the porter's wit. He took the shoe, and left the porter a bag of gold.

As has been said, the order at the supper was eat a while and boast a while.

Nobleman after nobleman told of some precious keepsake he had, and its history. At last they called on the nobleman with the shoe. He was so slow to respond that he was roundly hissed by the guests, as having nothing worthy the attention of a king. This was too much for nobility at a feast. He first told a strange story of how he came into possession of the shoe. Then he snatched it from his pocket so quickly that it dropped from his hand and fell plump into the king's dish of soup.

"Soldiers of the king," said Savo, "cast the intruder into prison, and see that his head comes off bright and early to-morrow morning."

Thus ended the coronation. The guests departed, and Savo retired for the night. Just after the nobleman was placed in prison the giant Lubercal passed the palace gate and saw the porter asleep beside his bag of gold. Knowing what had happened, he took the porter and the bag of gold around to the prison. There was a huge chimney leading down into the cell where the nobleman was. The giant reached down and brought out the nobleman and put the porter in his place. The nobleman and his bag of gold were carried by the giant to his mountain home.

In the meantime what had become of the cobbler and his two friends?

They were still at the home of the giant, safe and sound, with no fear of being eaten. What had the giant meant by telling his wife to prepare the cobbler first? Simply that he had heard the conversation that passed among the three men in his pockets as he went home, and as he was of a rather grim but jovial nature he made pretence of devouring his captives. Of these three we know of the cobbler, but who were the two friends? One was the captain that Savo had put in prison for bringing the dwarf. The other was Savoda.

The giant Lubercal thought that Savo might make away with them during the coronation, so he protected them in this way.

Early the next morning Savo sent word to the jailer to dispatch the man in the cell and bring the head to him. It was done; but, when the head was brought, Savo almost fell from his throne.

"My porter! my porter!" said Savo, "you have been dealt with foully. How dare you, Jailer, to turn the nobleman out and put my porter in his place? Soldiers of the king, seize the deceiver, and off with his head."

Before the soldiers could carry out the order the giant Lubercal appeared before the palace and sent his voice through the halls.

"Come, Savo," said he, "it is time to reckon."

The giant first took from his pocket the cobbler, who was red-eyed and sneezing, and bidding him no longer to fear King Savo, gave him his liberty. When the cobbler was set free he secured the burnt shoe, that it might remind him never again to fall asleep over his work, and hastened to his family.

Lubercal then followed this by freeing the nobleman, with a similar injunction. When the nobleman was given his liberty, he distributed the bag of gold among the poor, and, after awaiting Savoda's coronation, departed to his own estates.

Then the giant Lubercal now, in keeping with King Mesina's will, put Savoda upon the throne, and made Savo gate-keeper.

A good giant was Lubercal? Well, he was not so good, after all, as one other act will show. Even giants must live by some law.

The law by which Lubercal was controlled allowed him to be king if he could steal the whole nation at once. To do this all the people must be gathered into one house. Lubercal's aim was to deceive the people into building a house large enough to hold them all, and then proclaim himself king.

He suggested to Savoda that he force his people to erect such a house, so that the whole nation might come together and celebrate his (Savoda's) accession to the throne. Savoda did so. After much time and labor, the house was ready. The morning of the fatal day arrived--the day on which Lubercal intended to put into execution his plan of stealing the throne and Savoda's people. Lubercal stood upon the mountain and sent his voice ringing over the country. Savoda and the people thought this a good omen, and expected the giant to come down and rejoice with them. While King Savoda was arranging his crown, in walked the dwarf.

"Good morning, my King," said he. "I have come to rescue you and your people this day from the hands of the designing Lubercal." Noting Savoda's look of suspicion and incredulity the dwarf continued: "I see, my King, that you have little faith in my remark. Go you now to the temple, and ere the day is done you shall see your own salvation."

King Savoda and his people, after further insistence, though still not convinced, went to the temple, while the dwarf hastened to encounter the giant.

Again we must go back, in order to make clear events soon to be narrated.

Savo had been too silly to remain king, yet he was wise enough to see the force that removed him. He therefore set about finding the source of Lubercal's strength. While Lubercal was away he went up into the mountain and hid himself where he could see, but could not be seen. Lubercal soon came, and straightway tried to pull up a large tree by the roots. At first he failed to move it. He then went to a large cask containing fluid of some kind, and smelled it. At the next trial he pulled the tree halfway up. He went back to the cask and smelled again. Then he walked to the tree and with a slight effort snatched it from the ground and tossed it down the mountain.

"Ah," said Savo, "I have the secret of your strength. It is in that fluid."

Then Lubercal sat down, and began to talk to himself of how his strength lay in smelling the fluid in the cask, and how his length of days depended upon the running of the old-fashioned clock that hung beside a tree.

That night, as the giant slept, Savo slipped to the cask and examined it. He found it had two chambers, and that the fluid was in the lower one. He climbed into the upper chamber, thinking he might find some way of letting the fluid out. He found none, and to his surprise smelling the fluid made him weak instead of strong. He soon became so weak he could not get out; so there he stayed until morning. At daybreak he first heard the giant's voice ringing over the country. He next heard the shouts of King Savoda and his people as they were hurrying to the great temple, and lastly, the small clear voice of the dwarf piping out a challenge to Lubercal.

"Giant Lubercal, I have come to thwart your designs upon King Savoda and his people. Strength, I suppose will be your weapon; but wit shall be mine. The war is on. Here's at you."

"A flea in a kettle of hot water, my little man, is not more at a disadvantage than you are with me," said Lubercal; "but if you want a quick, easy death, come on."

At this the dwarf scratched the giant's great toe, but did not even make it bleed.

"For that, sir," said the giant, "you shall serve to whet my appetite for breakfast."

Now, according to an ancient custom, the giant could not eat a human being without first closing his eyes and saying a long blessing. While he was thus engaged, the dwarf turned himself into a fierce bird and circled above the giant's head. Every now and then he would strike the giant a stinging blow. After a hard struggle the giant succeeded in catching him. He held him tightly in his great hand; but in a flash the dwarf turned to a flea. The giant was not well proportioned. His body was large, with a deep crease between the shoulders, and his arms were so short they could not reach it.

The dwarf found the crease and began to bite. The giant soon became frantic. He ran to the tree; and, in trying to kill the dwarf, he broke the old-fashioned clock upon the running of which depended the length of his days.

He lay upon his back and rolled and tumbled, and then with marvelous force he drew up his limbs and straightened them out. One of his feet struck the cask, and fluid and Savo were dashed down the steep mountain-side. The once mighty Lubercal soon became so weak that the dwarf assumed his original form, tied a rope around his neck, and led him into the temple where King Savoda and his people were celebrating. At the dwarfs command Lubercal told the assembled multitude of his designs against them, and begged that he be allowed to return to his mountain home and breathe out his last as his forefathers had done. He returned, and soon a terrible wail told the people he was no more.

"Honor to whom honor is due," said King Savoda. "Let us honor the dwarf who has saved our whole nation. Truly, the power of his wit shall be felt in the affairs of this people."

"My great and good King," said the dwarf, "I am honored in being in your midst, and happy in seeing you happy. My life work is ended and I am ready to go."

As the autumn leaf falls withered to the ground, so the dwarf fell dead at the king's feet.

"My people," said King Savoda, "let us spend the rest of the day mourning for the dwarf and honoring his memory. How shall we best do this?"

"My King," said an aged man, "I have a suggestion."

"What have you done that you should be allowed to even make a suggestion concerning so great a person as the dwarf," said the King.

"My good and wise King, look closely and you will see that I am the captain who was imprisoned for bringing the dwarf into this kingdom."

The King looked, and seeing the man had spoken truthfully, told him to draw near.

"You shall no longer be the captain of a ship, but the first of my wise men. We will follow your suggestion. Let us have it."

"My King," said the captain, "yonder mountain-top upon which the giant Lubercal now lies dead is a solid rock. I suggest that you send your best workmen in stone up there. As they look upon the giant, let them shape out of the rock his exact image with the arms extended. Let them lay a marble slab across the arms, and upon this place the image of the dwarf."

The King was so impressed with the suggestion that he sent hundreds of his best workmen to carry it out. A signal told when they had finished the work. Then the King, followed by the people bearing the body of the dwarf, ascended the mountain. He was much pleased with the images, and ordered that the bodies of the giant and the dwarf be buried in the solid rock side by side.

As he started to leave he heard some one say:

"My brother, Savoda, I am nigh unto death. Hear me ere I depart."

The King turned and, seeing it was his brother Savo, clasped him in his arms, and placed a kiss upon his cheek. Savo in a few words begged his brother to forgive him for what he had done, told him of his adventure in the cask and how it ended. He then kissed his brother again and again, and expired. Savoda was so overcome that he had to be borne to his palace. Knowing their King's feelings in the matter, the workmen made an exact image of Savo, and placed it beside that of Lubercal, after which his body was buried close to the others. At the command of the king a huge stone was placed near the statues to remind the king and people of their duty.

Ever after that people would take their children to the mountain top and tell them the story of the king's shoes and the lessons to be learned from it.

King Savoda lived a long and useful life. His people loved him for his wisdom and goodness. He left twin sons to succeed him. They were so small that both sat in the same chair. They always agreed, and under them the kingdom flourished. They were so much like their father that the people called them the double king with one soul, borrowed from their father.

HOW MR. RABBIT SECURES A PRETTY WIFE AND RICH FATHER-IN-LAW

Mr. Rabbit was hard to please in love affairs. Those upon whom his eyes fell were either too ugly or too poor, and in some cases both. At last he concluded that the greatest failure in the world is courting that does not end in a wedding.

He arose early one morning and sat down by the roadside to think over the different flowers along the path of love that had proven thorns to his soul. As he sat there, taking them up and dismissing one by one, with a frown on his face and a bachelor-like sourness in his soul, he chanced to see a beautiful maiden tripping over the meadows. As soon as he saw that she was pretty, he believed he loved her, as soon as he learned that her father was rich, he knew it.

"O soul, my poor wounded soul! a smile from yon creature of grace and beauty would cure you. Let us haste and secure the remedy. I can well afford to exchange a task like this for the smiles of so pretty a wife and her father's pocket-book."

Mr. Rabbit knew his only stock in trade was wit, so he sharpened this and visited the girl's father. He walked up to the old gentleman and said:

"Good morning, sir. My name is Mr. Rabbit. I have come to be your son-in-law, and your daughter has my letter of introduction."

The old gentleman was so surprised at Mr. Rabbit's words he did not call his daughter to test their truthfulness. He admired his visitor's boldness and readiness of speech and, after talking awhile, invited him out to breakfast. Having learned the girl's name during the conversation, Rabbit spoke to her on coming out, and also took her by the hand. Now, he carried in his hand a stamp bearing the words "I propose."

After breakfast the old gentleman asked his daughter if she had Mr. Rabbit's letter of introduction, and she answered by holding up her hand. Then he asked her if she had ever met him before, and she said she had not. Without further ado he seized Rabbit by the throat and said:

"My dear child, this whole thing has been forced upon you. Now, how shall I punish the impudent young whelp?"

"Why, father," said she in her sweetest tones, "let both of us punish him by making him your son-in-law."

Seeing that he could not withstand the combined forces of Cupid, his only daughter, and a wily lover, the old gentleman said: "Well, Mr. Rabbit, you may have the girl on the condition that you go down to the great frog settlement and prove that you are master of all the frogs there. This must be done by to-morrow at twelve o'clock."

"It shall be done," said Mr. Rabbit.

He dressed himself as strangely as possible, and, taking a looking-glass in his hand, went down to the frog settlement. He stood by the branch and waved the glass until the frogs gathered around him.

"This is not the place," said he. "This is not the place."

"Yes, it is," said an old frog. "It is the very place that has been here all the time."

Mr. Rabbit looked again and said: "It is the place, sure enough."

"Didn't I tell you so?" said the old frog. "If this place had moved, we would have known it."

This served to open the conversation. While talking, Rabbit held the glass so the frogs could see themselves. He told them it was a soul-drawing machine, and that by looking into it the soul would come out of the body and go behind the glass.

"Do you know," said Rabbit, "why Mr. Snake swallows so many of you? It is simply to get your souls. As the soul is in the body, he must swallow the body, also. Let him see that the soul is out of the body, and he will no longer bother the body, but go after the soul. If the soul is behind the glass, he can't get it. So you see, gentlemen, every frog should have a glass. All he has to do is to carry the glass with him, and, when Mr. Snake comes, just hold it up so as to see himself. Mr. Snake, seeing the soul out of his reach, will scamper off."

All agreed with Rabbit, but wanted to know where glasses sufficient for all could be had.

"Ah," said Rabbit, "that is my business here. I have come to build a factory for making them. All you have to do is to turn the wheel I will make. This wheel will turn the mill and out will come the glasses. There will be no charges."

The frogs agreed to turn the wheel as long as needed. Then Rabbit built a watermill for grinding wheat and corn, and put the wheel above the water. The frogs knew no better.

"In order to turn the wheel," said Mr. Rabbit, "you frogs must be divided into as many bands as there are paddles to the wheel. The first band must jump upon a paddle and force it down, then jump into the water and swim to shore ready for the next turn. Each band must do so in turn, and the wheel will go round. There are several things you must do. You must not be seen until I give the signal. Then you must come, start the wheel, and keep it going until I tell you to stop. At the second signal you must bellow as loudly as you can, or your souls will be so long in getting behind the glass that Mr. Snake will catch them. On the third signal you must dance as you come around, or the glass will be easily broken."

All agreed, and said there should not be a single hitch in the programme.

Then Rabbit sent for his father-in-law to come, and bring his wheat with him. He did so; but laughed at Rabbit's mill-wheel.

"The wheat will be ground," said Rabbit, approaching the water and giving the signal agreed upon with the frogs.

At the first signal the frogs came by hundreds and sent the wheel over and over again in great haste. At the second signal they began to bellow; and, at the third, to dance. This procedure was continued, and in a short time the wheat was all ground.

"Now," said Mr. Rabbit, "I am not a member of the family as yet, but see what a means of income I am. How will it be further on? By the way, my father-in-law-to-be, how do you like the wedding-march my slaves are playing for me?"

"Very well, my son Rabbit, very well," said the old gentleman. "Come, let us have the ceremony." They then proceeded to the magistrate, when Mr. Rabbit and the young lady were duly wedded.

What became of the mill? Mr. Rabbit cared nothing for a cheap affair like that when he had succeeded in securing a pretty wife and rich father-in-law.

What about the frogs?

There is no telling how long they turned the wheel, bellowed, and danced; or how they got the glasses from between the millstones.

THE LITTLE BOY AND MISTER DARK

My name is Little Boy, an' I'se gwine ter tell you er story 'bout myself an' Mister Dark. Once 'twuz night, an' my Mammy an' my Daddy an' my dawg an' my cat an' myself wuz in de big cabin-room. My Daddy, he dun skinned de rabbit fer de breakfust time, an' my Mammy, she dun stirred up de hoecakes fer ter go 'long wid de rabbit, an' I dun make up my mind ter sleep till I gits er appertite fer bofe de cakes an' de rabbit. Meanwhile my cat, she says: "Meaw, meaw!" an' my dawg's tail says: "I whop, whop on de floor."

Atter while my Mammy, she snored an' my Daddy, he snored, an' de cat meawed, an' de dawg's tail whopped on de floor, an' I got so skeered I could hardly keep comp'ny wid my own bref.

Den sump'in' happened. Mister Wind, he broke down de door an' roared in an' licked up de candle light. Den I shet my eyes an' listened fer my cat, but didn't heah no meaw. Mister Rain, he spattered down de chimbly an' swallowed up de fire. Den I put my hands over my face an' listened fer my dawg, but didn't heah no tail flopping on de floor. Atter bein' skeered er long time I spunked up an' opened my eyes, an' dere wuz Mister Dark es big es de cabin-room.

Atter er nudder while I spunked up erg'in an' says I: "Mister Dark, whar does you live?"

Mister Dark says: "I lives everywhar when de sun's in bed." Den I asks him a r'al spunky question: "Mister Dark, how big is you?"

Mister Dark says: "I'se es big es de whole world when de sun's kivered up in bed."

Den I says: "Dis cabin-room's too little fer you. Jes leave it fer us."

Mister Dark, he says: "I'se gwine ter stay heah an' have sum fun outer you. Ef you's skeered, Little Boy, jes' call on yo' Daddy's snore an' yo' Mammy's dreams, an' yo' cat's meaw an' yo' little dawg's floppin' tail. You must read me a story. Heah's er book. Heah's specticle-glasses fer de dark. Now read an' let de fun begin."

I shakes my head, an' den I seemed jes' like er big piece o' gumbo. I wuz tall an' den short, an' in an' den out an' square an' den round. I says ter myself: "Ef I ends er foot ball, Mister Dark will have a great big kick cum'in'." All at once I felt de book in my hand, de specticle-glasses on my nose, an' I wuz tryin' ter read. I could read, an' den I couldn't. I'd call de fust wud, an' den dat wud would jump on all de udder wuds es I cum ter 'em, an' I'd jes' call dat wud right on frum de top ter de bottom o' de page.

"Looker-heah, Little Boy," said Mister Dark, "you jes' cyarn't read. Let's all laf." Den Mister Dark chuckled er laf, an' Mister Rain spattered er laf, an' Mister Wind roared er laf, an' my cat meawed er laf, an' my little dawg flopped er laf wid his tail, an' I lafed jes' er little teeny bit, an' I wanted it back erg'in.

Mister Dark made er funny little noise, an' whut does you reckon happened? My cat wuz on one knee, an' my dawg on de udder. De specticle-glasses wuz on dey noses, an' dey read every wud in dat book. Now what does you reckon dem wuds wuz erbout? Dey wuz erbout dat wud dat played leap frog frum de top ter de bottom o' dat page when I tried ter read, an' erbout dat rabbit an' dem hoecakes, an' how I wuz gwine ter oversleep myself, an' how my mouf would wotter when I seed de rabbit's bones picked clean.

Den I said ter Mister Dark: "Mister Dark, you's pokin' fun at me, an' you's makin' my cat meaw fun at me an' my dawg flop fun at me wid his tail; but I'se gwine ter beat you in de end fer I'se gwine ter sleep."

"'Scuse me fer readin'," meawed my cat, an' jumped down frum my right knee.

"'Scuse me fer readin'," barked my dawg, an' jumped down frum my left knee.

"'Scuse us too," mumbled de book an' de specticle-glasses.

"Now, my Little Boy," said Mister Dark, "ef you'll jes' shet yo' eyes an' open yo' mouf you'll 'scuse me too to-morrow mawnin'."

I closed my eyes an' opened my mouf an' went ter sleep. I sleeped an' sleeped an' sleeped, an' at last I waked up. Mister Daylight wuz dere as big as de cabin-room, an' my Mammy wuz frying de hoecakes, an' my Daddy wuz stewin' de rabbit, an' when I got all de glue outen my eyelids I sed: "Mammy, I'se bin erway, an' I'se hongry."

"Give dat chile er cake," says Mammy.

"An' sum rabbit," says Daddy.

"An' give my cat an' dawg sum too," says I.

Den we all eat an' eat an' eat, an' all at once Mammy says: "Look-er-heah, chile, you dun growed er whole pound last night."

"Yas'm," says I, "an' it wuz dis way. While you all wuz er snorin' Mister Dark cumed in an' tried ter skeer me, but I jes' spunked up an' closed my eyes an' opened my mouf an' swallowed Mister Dark right down an' went ter sleep, an' course I'se bigger."

"Give dat smart chile er nudder cake," says Mammy.

Daddy puts de cake in my mouf, an' I starts ter swallow it 'fore I thinks ter say: "I thank you." Den I tries ter say it an' swallow at de same time, but I gits choked. Den I swallows an' swallows an' swallows jes' dis way (Imitate swallowing), an' at last I swallows it down. Den I reaches fer en nudder cake, but it ain't dere.