Chapter VI: Part 6

After a time there was again a great stir in the city, everyone was abroad in the streets whispering and consulting. To the king's daughter was born a little son, and no one knew who the father was, not even the princess herself. Then the king sent for all the men in the city, and brought them to the infant, and said, 'Is this your father?' but the babe said 'No!' to them all.

Last of all, Scioccolone was brought, and when the king took him up to the babe and said, 'Is this your father?' the babe rose joyfully from its cradle and said, 'Yes; that is my father!' When the king heard this and saw what a rough ugly clown Scioccolone was, he was very angry with his daughter, and said she must marry him and go away for ever from the palace. It was all in vain that the princess protested she had never seen him but for one moment from the top of the palace. The babe protested quite positively that he was his father; so the king had them married, and sent them away from the palace for ever; and the babe was right, for though Scioccolone and the princess had never met, Scioccolone had wished that he might have a son, of whom she should be the mother, and by the power of the spell [99] the child was born.

Scioccolone was only too delighted with the king's angry decree. He felt quite out of place in the palace, and was glad enough to be sent away from it. All he wanted was to have such a beautiful wife, and he willingly obeyed the king's command to take her away, a long, long way off.

The princess, however, was quite of a different mind. She could not cease from crying, because she was given to such an uncouth, clownish husband that no tidy peasant wench would have married.

When, therefore, Scioccolone saw his beautiful bride so unhappy and distressed, he grew distressed himself; and in his distress he remembered once more the promise of the fairy, that whatever he wished he might have, and he began wishing away at once. First he wished for a pleasant villa, [100] prettily laid-out, and planted, and walled; then, a casino [101] in the midst of it, prettily furnished, and having plenty of pastimes and diversions; then, for a farm, well-stocked with beasts for all kinds of uses; for carriages and servants, for fruits and flowers, and all that can make life pleasant. And when he found that with all these things the princess did not seem much happier than before, he bethought himself of wishing that he might be furnished with a handsome person, polished manners, and an educated mind, altogether such as the princess wished. All his wishes were fulfilled, and the princess now loved him very much, and they lived very happily together.

After they had been living thus some time, it happened one day that the king, going out hunting, observed this pleasant villa on the wold, where heretofore all had been bare, unplanted, and unbuilt.

'How is this!' cried the king; and he drew rein, and went into the villa intending to inquire how the change had come about.

Scioccolone came out to meet him, not only so transformed that the king never recognised him, but so distinguished by courtesy and urbanity, that the king himself felt ashamed to question him as to how the villa had grown up so suddenly. He accepted his invitation to come and rest in the casino, however; and there they fell to conversing on a variety of subjects, till the king was so struck with the sagacity and prudence of Scioccolone's talk, that when he rose to take leave, he said:

'Such a man as you I have long sought to succeed me in the government of the kingdom. I am growing old and have no children, and you are worthy in all ways to wear the crown. Come up, therefore, if you will, to the palace and live with me, and when I die you shall be king.'

Scioccolone, now no longer feeling himself so ill-adapted to live in a palace, willingly consented, and a few days after, with his wife and his little son, he went up to the palace to live with the king.

But the king's delight can scarcely be imagined when he found that the wife of the polished stranger was indeed his very own daughter.

After a few years the old king died, and Scioccolone reigned in his stead. And thus the promises of all the three fairies were fulfilled.

[Among the Italian-Tirolese tales is one called 'I tre pezzi rari' (The Three Rare Things), which begins just like 'Scioccolone,' and then the fairies give the three gifts of a dinner-providing table-cloth, an exhaustless purse, and a resistless cudgel, which we so often meet with, as in Grimm's 'Tischchen deck dich,' p. 142; Campbell's 'Three Soldiers,' i. p. 176-93, who refers to numerous other versions, in which other incidents of the two next succeeding tales occur. The Spanish version I have given by the name of 'Matanzas' in 'Patrañas.'

In the Roman version of the 'Dodici palmi di naso,' it is singular that it is the second and not the youngest son who is the hero. There is another Italian-Tirolese story, entitled 'Il Zufolotta,' in which only one boy and two fairies are concerned, and they only give him the one gift of the Zufoletto, which, instead of supplying every wish as in 'Dodici palmi di naso,' has the power of the Zauberflöte, the pipe of the 'Pied Piper,' and kindred instruments in all times and countries, so that, when it has got its possessor into such trouble that he is condemned to be executed, it answers the same end as the cudgel, liberating its master by setting the judge and executioner dancing, instead of by thumping them.]

TWELVE FEET OF NOSE. [102]

There was a poor old father, who was very poor indeed, and very old. When he came to die, he called his three sons round his bed, and said they must summon a notary to make his will. The sons looked at each other, and thought he was doating. He repeated his desire, and then one of them ventured to say:

'But father, dear, why should we go to the expense of calling in a notary; there is not a single thing on earth you have to leave us!'

But the old man told them again to call a notary, and still they hesitated, because they thought the notary would say they were making game of him.

At last the old man began to get angry when he found they would not do as he said, and, just not to vex him in his last moments, they called the notary, and the notary brought his witnesses.

Then the father was content, and called them all to his bedside.

'Now, pull out the old case under the bed, and take out what you find there.'

They found an old broken hat, without a brim, a ragged purse that was so worn you could not have trusted any money in its keeping, and a horn. [103]

These three things he bequeathed in due form of law, one to each of his sons; and it was only because they saw that the man was in his death agony that those who were called to act as witnesses could keep from laughing. To the notary, of course, it was all one whether it was an old hat or a new one, his part was the same, and when he had done what was needful, he went his way, and the witnesses went with him; but as they went out, they said one to another:

'Poor old man! perhaps it is a comfort to him in his last moments to fancy he has got something to leave.'

When they were all gone, as the three sons were standing by, very sad, and looking at each other, not knowing what to make of the strange scene, he called the eldest, to whose portion the hat had fallen, and said:

'See what I've given you.'

'Why, father!' answered he, 'it isn't even good enough to bind round one's knee when one goes out hoeing!'

But the father answered:

'I wouldn't let you know its value till those people were gone, lest any should take it from you; this is its value, that if you put it on, you can go in to dine at whatever inn you please, or sit down to drink at what wineshop you please, and take what you like and drink what you like, for no one will see you while you have it on.'

Then he called his second son, to whose lot the purse had fallen, and he said:

'See what I have given you.'

'Why, father!' answered the son, 'it isn't even good enough to keep a little tobacco in, if I could afford to buy any!'

But the father answered:

'I wouldn't tell you its value till those people were gone, lest any should take it from you; but this is its value; if you put your fingers in, you'll find a scudo there, and after that another, and another, as many as ever you will; there will always be one.'

Then he called his youngest son, and said:

'See what I have given you.'

And he answered:

'Yes, father, it's a very nice horn; and when I am starving hungry I can cheat myself into being content by playing on it.'

'Silly boy!' answered the father; 'that is not its use. I wouldn't tell you its value while those people were here, lest they should take it from you. Its value is this, that whenever you want anything you have only to sound it, and one will come who will bring whatever you want, be it a dinner, a suit of clothes, a palace, or an army.'

After this the father died, and each found himself well provided with the legacy he had given him.

It happened that one day as the second son [104] was passing under the window of the palace a waiting-maid looked out and said: 'Can you play at cards?'

'As well as most,' answered the youth.

'Very well, then; come up,' answered the waiting-maid; 'for the queen wants some one to play with her.'

Very readily he went up, therefore, and played at cards with the queen, and when he had played all the evening he had lost fifty scudi.

'Never mind about paying the fifty scudi,' said the queen, as he rose to leave. 'We only played to pass away the time, and you don't look by your dress as if you could afford fifty scudi.'

'Not at all!' replied the youth. 'I will certainly bring the fifty scudi in the morning.'

And in the morning, by putting his fingers fifty times into the ragged purse, he had the required sum, and went back with it to the palace and paid the queen.

The queen was very much astonished that such a shabby-looking fellow should have such command of money, and determined to find out how it was; so she made him stay and dine. After dinner she took him into her private room and said to him:

'Tell me, how comes it that you, who are but a shabby-looking fellow, have such command of money?'

'Oh!' answered he quite unsuspectingly, 'because my father left me a wonderful purse, in which is always a scudo.'

'Nonsense!' answered the queen. 'That is a very pretty fable, but such purses don't exist.'

'Oh, but it is so indeed,' answered the youth.

'Quite impossible,' persisted the queen.

'But here it is; you can see for yourself!' pursued the incautious youth, taking it out.

The queen took it from him as if to try its powers, but no sooner was she in possession of it than she called in the guard to turn out a fellow who was trying to rob her, and give him a good beating.

Indignant at such treatment, the youth went to his eldest brother and begged his hat of him that he might, by its means, go and punish the queen.

Putting on the hat he went back to the palace at the hour of dinner and sat down to table. As soon as the queen was served he took her plate and ate up all that was in it one course after another, so that the queen got nothing, and finding it useless to call for more dishes, she gave it up as a bad job, and went into her room. The youth followed her in and demanded the return of his wonderful purse.

'How can I know it is you if I don't see you?' said the queen.

'Never mind about seeing me. Put the purse out on the table for me and I will take it.'

'No, I can't if I don't see you,' replied the queen. 'I can't believe it is you unless I see you.'

The youth fell into the snare and took off his hat.

'How did you manage to make yourself invisible?' asked the queen.

'Just by putting on this old hat.'

'I don't believe that could make you invisible,' exclaimed the queen. 'Let me try.'

And she snatched the hat out of his hand and put it on. Of course she was now in turn invisible, and he sought her in vain; but worse than that, she rang the bell for the guard and bid them turn the shabby youth out and give him a bastonata.

Full of fresh indignation he ran to his youngest brother and told him all his story, begging the loan of his horn, that he might punish the queen by its means; and the brother lent it him.

He sounds the horn and One comes. [105]

'I want an army with cannons to throw down the palace,' said the youth; and instantly there was a tramp of armed men, and a rumble of artillery waggons.

The queen was sitting at dinner, but when she heard all the noise she came to the window; meantime the soldiers had surrounded the palace and pointed their guns.

'What's all this about! What's the matter!' cried the queen out of the window.

'The matter is, that I want my purse and my hat back,' answered the youth.

'To be sure! you are right; here they are. I don't want my palace battered down, so I will give them to you.'

The youth went up to receive them; but when he got upstairs he found the queen sunk half fainting in a chair.

'Oh! I'm so frightened; I can't think where I put the things. Only send away that army and I'll look for them immediately.'

The youth sent away the army, and the queen got up and began looking about for the things.

'Tell me,' she said, as she wandered from one cupboard to another, 'how did you, who are such a shabby-looking fellow, manage to call together such an army?'

'Because I've got this horn,' answered the youth. 'And with it I can call up whatever I want, and if you don't make haste and find the purse and the hat, I'll call up the army again and batter down the palace in right earnest.'

'You won't make me believe that!' replied the queen. 'That sorry horn can't work such wonders as that: let me try.' And she took the horn out of his hands and sounded it and One appeared. 'Two stout men!' she commanded quickly; and when they came she bid them drive the shabby-looking youth out of the palace and give him a bastonata.

He was now quite undone, and was ashamed to go back to his brothers. So he wandered away outside the town. After much walking he came to a vineyard, where he strolled in; and what struck him was, that though it was January, there was a fine fig-tree covered with ripe luscious figs.

'This is a godsend indeed,' he said, 'to a hungry man,' and he began plucking and eating the figs. Before he had eaten many, however, he found his nose had begun to grow to a terrible size; a foot for every fig.

'That'll never do!' he cried, and left off eating the figs and wandered on. Presently he came to another vineyard, where he also strolled in: there, though it was January, he saw a tree all covered with ripe red cherries. 'I wonder what calamity will pursue me for eating them,' he said, as he gathered them. But when he had eaten a good many he perceived that at last his luck had turned, for in proportion as he ate his nose grew less and less, till at last it was just the right size again.

'Now I know how to punish the queen,' he said, and he filled a bottle with the juice of the cherries, and went back and gathered a basketful of figs.

These figs he cried under the palace window, and as he had got more dusty and threadbare with his late wanderings no one recognised him. 'Figs in January! that is a treat!' and they bought up the whole basketful. Then as they ate, their noses all began to grow, but the queen, as she was very greedy, ate twelve for her share, so that she had twelve feet of nose added to the length of hers. It was so long that it trailed behind her on the ground as she walked along.

Then there was a hue and cry! All the surgeons and physicians in the kingdom were sent for, but could do no good. They were all in despair, when our youth came up disguised as a foreign doctor.

'Noses! I can heal noses! whoever has got too much nose let him come to me!'

All the inhabitants gathered round him, and the queen called to him loudest of all.

'The medicine I have to give is necessarily a very strong one to effect so extraordinary a cure; therefore I won't give it to the queen's majesty till she has seen it used on all her servants, beginning with the lowest.'

Taking them all in order, beginning with the lowest, he gave a few drops of cherry-juice to each, and all their noses came right.

Last of all the queen remained.

'The queen can't be treated like common people,' he said; 'she must be treated by herself. I must go into her room with her, and I can cure her with one drop of my cordial.'

'You think yourself very clever that you talk of curing with one drop of your cordial, but you're not the only person who can work wonders. I've got greater wonders than yours. I've got a hat which makes you invisible, a purse that never is empty, and a horn that gives you everything you call for.'

'Very pretty things to talk about,' answered the pretended doctor, 'but such things don't exist.'

'Don't they!' said the queen. 'There they are!'

And she laid them all out on the table.

This was enough for him. Taking advantage of the lesson she had given him by her example, he quickly put on the hat, making himself invisible; after that it was easy to snatch up the other things and escape; nor could anyone follow him. He lived very comfortably for the rest of his life, taking a scudo out of his purse for whatever he had to pay, and his brothers likewise got on very well with their legacies, for he restored them as soon as he had rescued them from the queen. But the queen remained for the rest of her life with TWELVE FEET OF NOSE.

A YARD OF NOSE. [106]

There was once a poor orphan youth left all alone, with no home, and no means of gaining a living, and no place of shelter.

Not knowing what to do he wandered away over the Campagna, straight on; when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness, he at last saw a fig-tree covered with ripe figs.

'There's a godsend!' said the poor orphan; and he set to upon the figs without ceremony. But, lo! he had scarcely eaten half-a-dozen when his nose began to feel very odd; he put his hand up to it and it felt much bigger than usual; however, he was too hungry to trouble himself about it, and he ate on. As he ate on his nose felt queerer and queerer; he put his hand up and found it was quite a foot [107] long! But he was so hungry he went on eating still, and before he had done he had fully a yard of nose.

'A pretty thing I have done for myself now! As well might I have died of starvation as make myself such an object as this! Never can I appear among civilised beings again.' And he laid himself down to sleep, hiding himself in the foliage of the fig-tree lest anybody passing by should see his nose.

In the morning the first thing he thought of when he awoke was his nose; he had no need to put up his hand to feel it for it reached down to his hand, a full yard of it waggling about.

'There's no help for it,' he said. 'I must keep away from all habitable places, and live as best I may.'

So he wandered on and on over the Campagna away from all habitations, straight on; and when he had wandered all day and was ready to die of hunger and weariness he saw another fig-tree covered with ripe figs.

Right glad he was to see anything in the shape of food. 'If it had only been anything else in the world but figs!' he said. 'If I go on at this rate I shan't be able to carry my nose along at all! Yet starving is hard, too, and I'm such a figure now, nothing can make me much worse, so here goes!' and he began eating at the figs without more ado.

As he ate this time, however, his nose, instead of feeling queerer and queerer as it had before, began to feel lighter and lighter.

Less, less, and still less it grew, [108] till at last he had to put his hand up to feel where it was, and by the time he had done eating, it was just its natural size again.

'Now I know how to make my fortune!' [109] he cried, and he danced for delight.

With a basketful of the figs of the first tree he trudged to the nearest town, still clad in his peasant's dress, and cried, 'Fine figs! fine figs! who'll buy my beautiful ripe figs!'

All the people ran out to see the new fruit-seller, and his figs looked so tempting that plenty of people bought of him. Among the foremost was the host of the inn, with his wife and his buxom daughter, and every one of them, as they ate the figs their noses began to grow and grow till everyone of them had a nose fully a yard long.

Then there was a hue and cry through the whole town, everyone with his yard of nose dangling and waggling, came running out, calling, 'Ho! Here! Wretch of a fruit-seller!' [110]

But our fruit-seller had had the good sense to foresee the coming storm, and had taken care to get far out of the way of pursuit.

But the next day he dressed himself like a doctor, all in black, with a long false beard, and came to the same town, where he entered the druggist's [111] shop, and gave himself out for a great doctor.

'You come in good season!' said the druggist. 'A doctor is wanted here just now, if ever one was, for to everyone almost in the town is grown a nose [112] so big! so big! in fact, a full yard of nose! Anyone who could reduce these noses might make a fortune indeed!'

'Why, that's just what I excel at of all things. Let me see some of these people,' answered our pretended doctor.

The druggist looked incredulous at a real remedy turning up so very opportunely; but at the same moment a pretty peasant girl came into the shop to buy some medicine for her mother; that is, she would have been pretty if it had not been for the terrible nose, which made a fright of her. The false doctor was seized with compunction when he saw what a fright his figs had made of this pretty girl, and he took out some figs of the other tree and gave her to eat, and immediately her tremendous nose grew less, and less, and less, and she was a pretty girl again. Of course it need not be said that he did not give her the figs in their natural state and form; he had peeled and pounded, and made them up with other things to disguise them.

The druggist no sooner saw this wonderful cure than he was prompt to publish it, and there was quite a strife who should have the new doctor the first.

It was the innkeeper who succeeded in being the first to possess himself of him. 'What will you give me for the cure?' said the strange doctor.

'Whatever you have the conscience to ask,' replied the host, panting to be rid of the monstrosity.

'Four thousand scudi apiece,' replied the false doctor; and the host, his wife, and his buxom daughter stood in a row waiting to be cured. With the same remedy that had cured the peasant girl he cured the host first, and next his daughter. After he had cured her he said, 'Instead of the second premium of four thousand scudi, I will take the hand of your daughter, if you like?'

'Yes, if you wish; it's a very good idea,' replied the host.

'Never, while I live!' said the wife.

'Why not? He's a very good husband!' said the host.

'An ugly old travelling doctor, who comes no one knows whence, to marry my daughter indeed!' said the wife.

'I'm sure we're under great obligations to his cleverness,' said the husband.

'Then let him be paid his price, and go about his business, and not talk impudence!' said the wife.

'But I choose that he shall marry her!' said the husband.

'And I choose that he shan't,' said the wife; 'and you'll find that much stronger.'

Just then a customer came in, and the host had to go and attend upon him, and while he was gone the wife called the servants, and bade them turn the doctor out, and give him a good drubbing into the bargain, saying, 'I'll have some other doctor to cure me!'

So he left them, and went on curing people's noses all day, till he had made a lot of money. Then he went away, but limping all the time from the beating he had received. The next day he came back dressed like a Turk, so that no one would have known him for the same man, and he came back to the same inn, saying he, too, could cure noses.

The mistress of the inn gave him a hearty welcome, as she was very anxious to find another doctor who could cure her nose.

'My treatment is effectual, but it is rude,' said the pretended Turk. 'I don't know if you'll like to submit to it.'

'Oh yes! Anything, whatever it may be, only to be rid of this monstrous nose,' said the hostess.

'Then you must come into a room by yourself with me,' said the pretended Turk; 'and I have a stick here made out of the root of a particular tree. I must thump you on the back with it, and in proportion as I thump you the nose will draw in. Of course it will hurt very much, and make you cry out, so you must tell your servants and people outside that however much you may call they are not to come in. For if they should come in and interrupt the cure, it would all have to be begun over again, and all you had suffered would go for nothing.'

So the hostess gave strict orders, saying, 'I am going into this room with the Turk to be cured by him, and however much I may call out, or whatever I may say, mind none of you, on pain of losing your places, open the door, or come near the room.'

Then she took the Turk into a room apart, and shut the door. The Turk no sooner got her alone than he made her lie with her face downwards on a sofa, and then--whack, whack, whack! [113] he gave her such a beating that she felt the effects of it to the end of her days.

Of course it was in vain she screamed and roared for help; the servants had had their orders, and none of them durst approach the room. It was only when she had fainted that the Turk left her alone and went his way.

But she never got her nose cured, and he married the pretty peasant girl who was the subject of his first cure.

[The two following stories contain a jumbling mixture of the incidents of the three preceding, set in a different framework; more or less mixed up with those in the stories of other countries mentioned at p. 128. Some of those in 'The Transformation Donkey' occur in the Siddhi Kür story of 'The Gold-spitting Prince,' in 'Sagas from the Far East,' but they are constructed into a quite different tale.]

THE CHICORY-SELLER AND THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS. [114]

There was a chicory-seller, with a wife and a son, all of them dying of hunger, and sleeping on the floor because they couldn't afford a bed. Once when they went out in the morning to gather chicory, the son found such a large plant of it, never was such a plant seen, it took them an hour, working at it together, to pull it up, and it filled two great bags. What is more, when they had got it all up, there was a great hole in the ground.

'What can there be down in that hole?' said the son. 'I must go and see!' In he jumped, [115] and down he went.

Suddenly he found himself in the midst of a splendid palace, and a number of obsequious servants gathered round him. They all bowed to the ground, and said,

'Your lordship! your lordship!' and asked him what he 'pleased to want.'

So there he was, dressed like a clodhopper, and all these servants dressed like princes, bowing and scraping to him.

'What do I want?' said the lad; 'most of all, I want a dinner.'

Immediately they brought him a banquet of a dinner, and waited on him all the time. Dinner over, they dressed him like a prince.

By-and-by there came in an ugly old hag, as ugly as a witch, who said,

'Good morning, Prince; are you come to marry me?'

'I'm no prince; and I'm not come to marry you most certainly!' replied the youth.

But all the servants standing round made all sorts of gesticulations that he should say 'yes.'

'It's no use mouthing at me,' said the lad; 'I shall never say "yes" to that!'

But they went on making signs all round that he should say 'yes,' till at last they bewildered him so, that, almost without knowing what he did, he said 'yes.'

Directly he had said 'yes,' there were thunder and lightning, and thunderbolts, and meteors, and howling of wind, and storm of hail. The youth felt in great fear; but the servants said:

'It is all right. She you thought an old hag is indeed a beautiful princess of eighteen, but she was under a spell; by consenting to marry her you have ended that spell, if you can only stand through the fear of this storm for three days and three nights, no harm can come to you, and we also shall all be set free.'

The whole apartment now seemed on fire, and when that ceased for a time, it seemed to rain fire all around.

For two days he managed to endure, but on the third day he got so frightened that he ran away. He had not much bettered his condition, however; for, if he had got away from the magic storms of the under world, he had come into real storms in the actual world, and there he was alone in the Campagna, starving and destitute again.

At last an old man appeared, who said to him:

'Why were you so foolish as to run away? You were told no harm could happen to you. Now you have nearly lost all. There is, however, one remedy left. Go on to the top of that high mountain, and gather the grass that grows there, and bring back a large bundle of it, and give it to these people to eat, and that will finish what you have begun. You will marry the princess, and share her kingdom; and all her people will be set free. For all those who waited on you as servants are noblemen of her court, who are under a spell.'

'How am I to get up to the top of that high mountain?' said the youth; 'it would take me a life of weariness to arrive there!'

'Take this divining-rod,' said the old man, 'and whatever difficulty comes in your way, touch it with this wand, and it will disappear.'

The youth took the wand, and bent his steps towards the mountain. There were rivers to be crossed, and steep places to be climbed, and many perils to be encountered, but the wand overcame them all. Arrived at the top, he saw a plat of fine, long grass growing, which he made no doubt was the grass he had to take. But he thought within himself, 'If this wand can do so much, it can surely give me also a house and a dinner; and, then, why should I toil down this mountain again at all!'

'Rod! rod! give me a nice little house!' he commanded; [116] and there was a nice little house on the top of the mountain.

'Rod! rod! give me a good dinner!' and a good dinner was spread on the table.

And thus it was with everything he wanted; so he went on living on the top of the mountain, without thinking of those he had to deliver in the hole under the earth.

Suddenly, there stood the old man. [117] 'You were not sent here to amuse yourself,' said he, severely. 'You were sent to fetch the means of delivering others;' and he took the wand away from him, and touched the casino, and it disappeared, and he was once more left destitute.

'If you would repair the past,' said the old man, as he went away, 'gather even now a bundle of grass and take it, and perhaps you will be in time yet; but you will have to toil alone, for you have forfeited the rod. And now, remember this counsel: whoever meets you by the way and asks to buy that grass, sell it to no man, or you are undone.'

As there was nothing else to be done, the youth set to work and cut some grass, and then terrible was the way he had to walk to get down again. Storms of fire broke continually over him, and every moment it seemed as though he would be precipitated to the bottom.

As he reached the plain a traveller met him.

'Oh, you have some of that grass,' said he. 'I was just going up the mountain to get some. If you will give it me, and save my journey, I will give you a prancing horse, all covered with gold trappings studded with precious stones.'

But this time the youth began to pay more attention to the injunctions laid upon him, and he shook his head, and walked on.

'Give it me,' continued the stranger, 'and I will give you in return for it a casino of your own in the Campagna, where you may live all your life.'

But the youth shook his head, and continued his way, without so much as answering him.

'Give it me,' said the stranger the third time, 'and I will give you gold enough to make you rich all your days.'

But the youth stood out the third temptation as well as the other two, and then the stranger disappeared.

Without further hindrance he arrived at the chicory-hole, let himself down, and gave the grass to all the people to eat, who were half dead with waiting so long for him; and as they ate, the spell ceased. Only as he had cut the grass in an indolent sort of way, he had not brought so large a quantity as he ought, and there was one poor maiden left for whose deliverance the provision sufficed not.

Meantime the whole face of the country was changed. The plain was covered with flourishing cities; over the chicory-hole was a splendid palace, where the maiden, who had under the spell looked like an old hag, took up her abode, and where the old man had promised that he should live with her for his reward.

This reward he now came to claim.

'But you have not completed your task,' said the princess.

'I think I have done a pretty good deal,' answered the youth.

'But there is that one who is yet undelivered.'

'Oh, I can't help about one. She must manage the best way she can.'

'That won't do,' said the princess. 'If you want to have me, you must complete your work.'

So he had to toil all the way up to the top of the mountain, and all the way down again, and at last the work was complete.

Then the princess married him, and all went wondrously well. [118]

THE TRANSFORMATION-DONKEY. [119]

There was once a poor chicory-seller: all chicory-sellers are poor, but this was a very poor one, and he had a large family of daughters and two sons. The daughters he left at home with their mother, but the two sons he took with him to gather chicory. While they were out gathering chicory one day, a great bird flew down before them and dropped an egg and then flew away again. The boys picked up the egg and brought it to their father, because there were some figures like strange writing on it which they could not read; but neither could the father read the strange writing, so he took the egg to a farmer. [120] The farmer read the writing, and it said:--

'Whoso eats my head, he shall be an emperor.'

'Whoso eats my heart, he shall never want for money.'

'Ho, ho!' said the farmer to himself, 'it won't do to tell the fellow this; I must manage to eat both the head and the heart myself.' So he said, 'The meaning of it is that whoever eats the bird will make a very good dinner; so to-morrow when the bird comes back, as she doubtless will to lay another egg, have a good stick ready and knock her down; then you can make a fire, and bake it between the stones, and I will come and eat it with you if you like.'

The poor chicory-seller thought his fortune was made when a farmer offered to dine with him, and the hours seemed long enough till next morning came.

With next morning, however, came the bird again. The chicory-seller was ready with his stick and knocked her down, and the boys made a fire and cooked the bird. But as they were not very apt at the trussing and cooking, the head dropped into the fire, and the youngest boy said: 'This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;' so he ate it. The heart also fell into the fire and got burnt, and the eldest boy said: 'This will never do to serve up, all burnt as it is;' so he ate that.

By-and-by the farmer came, and they all sat down on a bank--the farmer quite jovial at the idea of the immense advantage he was going to gain, and the chicory-seller quite elated at the idea of entertaining a farmer.

'Bring forward the roast, boys,' said the father; and the boys brought the bird.

'What have you done with the head?' exclaimed the farmer, the moment he saw the bird.

'Oh, it got burnt, and I ate it,' said the younger boy.

The merchant ground his teeth and stamped his foot, but he dared not say why he was so angry; so he sat silent while the chicory-seller took out his knife [121] and cut the bird up in portions.

'Give me the piece with the heart, if I may choose,' said the merchant; 'I'm very fond of birds' hearts.'

'Certainly, any part you like,' replied the chicory-seller, nervously turning all the pieces over and over again; 'but I can't find any heart. Boys, had the bird no heart?'

'Yes, papa,' answered the elder brother, 'it had a heart, sure enough; but it tumbled into the fire and got burnt, and so I ate it.'

There was no object in disguising his fury any longer, so the farmer exclaimed testily, 'Thank you, I'll not have any then; the head and the heart are just the only parts of a bird I care to eat.' And so saying he turned on his heel and went away.

'Look, boys, what you've done! You've thrown away the best chance we ever had in our lives!' cried the father in despair. [122] 'After the farmer had taken dinner with us he must have asked us to dine with him, and, as one civility always brings another, there is no saying what it might not have led to. However, as you have chosen to throw the chance away, you may go and look out for yourselves. I've done with you.' And with a sound cudgelling [123] he drove them away.

The two boys, left to themselves, wandered on till they came to a stable, when they entered the yard and asked to be allowed to do some work or other as a means of subsistence.

'I've nothing for you to do,' said the landlord; 'but, as it's late, you may sleep on the straw there, on the condition that you go about your business to-morrow first thing.'

The boys, glad to get a night's lodging on any condition, went to sleep in the straw. When the elder brother woke in the morning he found a box of sequins [124] under his head.

'How could this have come here,' soliloquised the boy, 'unless the host had put it there to see if we were honest? Well, thank God, if we're poor there's no danger of either of us taking what doesn't belong to us.' So he took the box to the host, and said: 'There's your box of sequins quite safe. You needn't have taken the trouble to test our honesty in that way.'

The host was very much surprised, but he thought the best way was to take the money and say nothing but 'I'm glad to see you're such good boys.' So he gave them breakfast and some provisions for the way.

Next night they found themselves still in the open country and no inn near, and they were obliged to be content to sleep on the bare ground. Next morning when they woke the younger boy again found a box of sequins under his head.

'Only think of that host not being satisfied with trying us once, but to come all this way after us to test our honesty again. However, I suppose we must take it back to him.'

So they walked all the way back to the host and said: 'Here's your box of sequins back; as we didn't steal it the first time it was not likely we should take it the second time.'

The host was more and more astonished; but he took the money without saying anything, only he praised the boys for being so good and gave them a hearty meal. And they went their way, taking a new direction.

The next night the younger brother said: 'Do you know I've my doubts about the host having put that box of sequins under your head. How could he have done it out in the open country without our seeing him? To-night I will watch, and if he doesn't come, and in the morning there is another box of sequins, it will be a sign that it is your own.'

He did so, and next morning there was another box of sequins. So they decided it was honestly their own, and they carried it by turns and journeyed on. About noon they came to a great city where the emperor was lately dead, and all the people were in great excitement about choosing another emperor. The population was all divided in factions, each of which had a candidate, and none would let the candidate of the others reign. There was so much fighting and quarrelling in the streets that the brothers got separated, and saw each other no more.

At this time it happened that it was the turn of the younger brother to be carrying the box of sequins. When the sentinels at the gate saw a stranger coming in carrying a box they said, 'We must see what this is,' and they took him to the minister. When the minister saw his box was full of sequins he said, 'This must be our emperor.' And all the people said, 'Yes, this is our emperor. Long live our emperor!' And thus the boy became an emperor.

But the elder brother had entered unperceived into the town, and went to ask hospitality in a house where was a woman with a beautiful daughter; so they let him stay. That night also there came a box of sequins under his head; so he went out and bought meat and fuel and all manner of provisions, and gave them to the mother, and said, 'Because you took me in when I was poor last night, I have brought you all these provisions out of gratitude,' and for the beautiful daughter he bought silks and damasks, and ornaments of gold. But the daughter said, 'How comes it, tell me, that you, who were a poor footsore wayfarer last night, have now such boundless riches at command?' And because she was beautiful and spoke kindly to him, he suspected no evil, but told her, saying, 'Every morning when I wake now, I find a box of sequins under my head.'

'And how comes it,' said she, 'that you find a box of sequins under your head now, and not formerly?' 'I do not know,' he answered, 'unless it be because one day when I was out with father gathering chicory, a great bird came and dropt an egg with some strange writing on it, which we could not read. But a farmer read it for us; only he would not tell us what it said, but that we should cook the bird and eat it. While we were cooking it the heart fell into the fire and got burnt, and I ate it: and when the farmer heard this he grew very angry. I think, therefore, the writing on the egg said that he who ate the heart of the bird should have many sequins.'

After this they spent the day pleasantly together; but the daughter put an emetic in his wine at supper, and so made him bring up the bird's heart, which she kept for herself, and the next morning when he woke there was no box of sequins under his head. When he rose in the morning also the beautiful girl and her mother turned him out of the house, and he wandered forth again.

At last, being weary and full of sorrow, he sat down on the ground by the side of a stream crying. Immediately three fairies appeared to him and asked him why he wept. And when he told them, they said to him: 'Weep no more, for instead of the bird's heart we give you this sheepskin jacket, the pockets of which will always be full of sequins. How many soever you may take out they will always remain full.' Then they disappeared; but he immediately went back to the house of the beautiful girl, taking her rich and fine presents; but she said to him, 'How comes it that you, who had no money left when you went away, have now the means to buy all these fine presents?' Then he told her of the gift of the three fairies, and they let him sleep in the house again, but the daughter called her maid to her and said: 'Make a sheepskin jacket exactly like that in the stranger's room.' So she made one, and they put it in his room, and took away the one the fairies had given him, and in the morning they drove him from the house again. Then he went and sat down by the stream and wept again; but the fairies came and asked him why he wept; and he told them, saying, 'Because they have driven me away from the house where I stayed, and I have no home to go to, and this jacket has no more sequins in the pockets.' Then the fairies looked at the jacket, and they said, 'This is not the jacket we gave you; it has been changed by fraud:' so they gave him in place of it a wand, and they said, 'With this wand strike the table, and whatever you may desire, be it meat or drink or clothes, or whatsoever you may want, it shall come upon the table.' The next day he went back to the house of the woman and her daughter, and sat down without saying anything, but he struck the table with his wand, wishing for a great banquet, and immediately it was covered with the choicest dishes. There was no need to ask him questions this time, for they saw in what his gift consisted, and in the night, when he was asleep, they took his wand away. In the morning they drove him forth out of the house, and he went back to the stream and sat down to cry. Again the fairies appeared to him and comforted him; but they said, 'This is the last time we may appear to you. Here is a ring; keep it on your hand; for if you lose this gift there is nothing more we may do for you;' and they went away. But he immediately returned to the house of the woman and her beautiful daughter. They let him in, 'Because,' they said, 'doubtless the fairies have given him some other gift of which we may take profit.' And as he sat there he said, 'All the other gifts of the fairies have I lost, but this one they have given me now I cannot lose, because it is a ring which fits my finger, and no one can take it from my hand.'

'And of what use is your ring?' asked the beautiful daughter.

'Its use is that whatever I wish for while I have it on I obtain directly, whatever it may be.'

'Then wish,' said she, 'that we may be both together on the top of that high mountain, and a sumptuous merenda [125] spread out for us.'

'To be sure!' he replied, and he repeated her wish. Instantly they found themselves on the top of the high mountain with a plentiful merenda before them; but she had a vial of opium with her, and while his head was turned away she poured the opium into his wine. Presently after this he fell into a sound sleep, so sound that there was no fear of waking him. Immediately she took the ring from his finger and put it on her own; then she wished that she might be replaced at home and that he might be left on the top of the mountain. And so it was done.