Chapter VII: Part 7

In the morning when he woke and found himself all alone on the top of the high mountain and his ring gone, he wept bitter tears, and felt too weary to attempt the descent of the steep mountain side. For three days he remained here weary and weeping, and then, becoming faint from hunger, he took some of the herbs that grew on the mountain top for food. As soon as he had eaten these he was turned into a donkey, [126] but as he retained his human intelligence, he said to himself, this herb has its uses, and he filled one of the panniers on his back with it. Then he came down from the mountain, and when he was at the foot of it, being hungry with the long journey, he ate of the grass that grew there, and, behold! he was transformed back into his natural shape; so he filled the other basket with this kind of grass and went his way.

Having dressed himself like a street seller, he took the basket of the herb which had the property of changing the eater into a donkey, and stood under the window of the house where he had been so evil entreated, and cried, 'Fine salad! fine salad! who will buy my fine salad?' [127]

'What is there so specially good about your salad?' asked the maid, looking out. 'My young mistress is particularly fond of salad, so if yours is so very superfine, you had better come up.'

He did not wait to be twice told. As soon as he saw the beautiful daughter, he said, 'This is fine salad, indeed, the finest of the fine, all fresh gathered, and the first of its kind that ever was sold.'

'Very likely it's the first of its kind that ever was sold,' said she; 'but I don't like to buy things I haven't tried; it may turn out not to be nice.'

'Oh, try it, try it freely; don't buy without trying;' and he picked one of the freshest and crispest bunches.

She took one in her hand and bit a few blades, and no sooner had she done so than she too became a donkey. Then he put the panniers on her back and drove her all over the town, constantly cudgelling her till she sank under the blows. Then one who saw him belabour her thus, said, 'This must not be; you must come and answer before the emperor for thus belabouring the poor brute;' but he refused to go unless he took the donkey with him; so they went to the emperor and said, 'Here is one who is belabouring his donkey till she has sunk under his blows, and he refuses to come before the emperor to answer his cruelty unless he bring his donkey with him.' And the emperor made answer, 'Let him bring the beast with him.'

So they brought him and his donkey before the emperor. When he found himself before the emperor he said, 'All these must go away; to the emperor alone can I tell why I belabour my donkey.' So the emperor commanded all the people to go to a distance while he took him and his donkey apart. As soon as he found himself alone with the emperor he said, 'See, it is I, thy brother!' and he embraced him. Then he told him all that had befallen him since they parted. Then said the emperor to the donkey, 'Go now with him home, and show him where thou hast laid all the things--the bird's heart, the sheepskin jacket, the wand, and the ring, that he may bring them hither; and if thou deliver them up faithfully I will command that he give thee of that grass to eat which shall give thee back thy natural form.'

So they went back to the house and fetched all the things, and the emperor said, 'Come thou now and live with me, and give me of thy sequins, and I will share the empire with thee.' Thus they reigned together.

But to the donkey they gave of the grass to eat, which restored her natural form, only that her beauty was marred by the cudgelling she had received. And she said, 'Had I not been so wilful and malicious I had now been empress.'

[In these stories we have had the actions of three Fate, somewhat resembling English fairies; in the following, we meet with three who, as often happens in Roman stories, are nothing better than witches.]

SIGNOR LATTANZIO.

They say there was a duke who wandered over the world seeking a beautiful maiden to make his wife.

After many years he came to an inn where was a lady, who asked him what he sought.

'I have journeyed half the earth over,' answered the duke, 'to find a wife to my fancy, and have not found one; and now I go back to my native city as I came.'

'How sad!' answered the lady. 'I have a daughter who is the most beautiful maiden that ever was made; but three fairies have taken possession of her, and locked her up in a casino in the Campagna, and no one can get to see her.'

'Only tell me where she is,' replied the duke, 'and I promise you I'll get to see her, in spite of all the fairies in the world.'

'It is useless!' replied the lady. 'So many have tried and failed. So will you.'

'Not I!' answered the duke. 'Tell me how they failed, and I will do otherwise.'

'I have told so many, and all say the same as you, and all go to seek her, but none ever come back.'

'Never mind! Tell it once again, and I promise you it shall be the last time, for I will surely come back.'

'If you are bent on sacrificing yourself uselessly,' proceeded the lady, 'this is the story. You must go to the mountain of Russia, and at the foot of it there will meet you three most beautiful maidens, who will come round you, and praise you, and flatter you, and pour out all manner of blandishments, and will ask you to go into their palace with them, and will entreat you so much that you will not be able to resist; then you will go into their palace with them, and they will turn you into a cat, for they are three fairies. But, on the other hand, if you can resist only for the space of one hour to all they will say to you, then you will have conquered, and they will be turned into cats, and you will have free access to my daughter to release her.'

'I will go,' said the duke firmly; and he rose up and went his way to the mountain of Russia.

'Now, if all these other men have failed in this same attempt,' he mused within himself as he went along, 'it behoves me to be prudent. I know what I will do; I will put a bandage over my eyes, and then I shan't see the fairies, and their blandishments will have no power over me.' And so he did.

Then the fairies came out to him and said, 'Signor Lattanzio! welcome, welcome! how fair you are; do take the bandage off and let us see you; how noble you look. Do let us see your face? We are dying to have you with us!'

But the duke remained firm, and seemed to take no heed, though their voices were so soft and persuasive that he longed to look at them, or even to lift up one corner of the bandage and take a peep. But he remained firm.

'Signor Lattanzio! Signor Lattanzio! Don't be so ungallant,' pursued the fairies. 'Here are we at your feet, as it were, begging you to give us your company, and you will not so much as speak to us, or even look at us!'

But the duke remained firm, and seemed to take no heed, though his head was turned by their accents, and he felt that if he could only go with them as they wished he should want no more. But he remained firm.

'Signor Lattanzio! Signor Lattanzio! Signor Lattanzio!' cried the three fairies disdainfully, for now they began to suspect in right good earnest that at last one had come who was too strong for them. 'The fact is you are afraid of us. If you are a man, show you have no fear, and come and talk with us.'

But the duke remained firm, though a vanity, which had nearly lost him, whispered that it would be a grander triumph to look them in the face and yet resist them, than to conquer without having ventured to look at them, yet prudence prevailed, and he remained firm.

So they went on, and the duke felt that the hour was drawing to a close. He took out his repeater and struck it, and the hour of trial was over.

'Traitor!' cried the three fairies, and in the same instant they were turned into cats. Then the duke went into their palace, and took their wand, and with it he could open the gates of the casino where the lady's daughter was imprisoned.

When he saw her, he found her indeed fairer than the fairest; fairer even than his conception.

When, therefore, with the wand he had restored all the cats that were upon the mountain to their natural shapes as those that had failed in their enterprise, he took her home with him to be his wife.

[As this was told me, the sign by which the duke was to recognise the three fairies was, that they were to be sweeping the ground with their breasts. The incident seemed so extravagant, that I omitted it in writing out the story; I mention it, however, now because I find the same in Note 1, on an Albanian story, to p. 177, in Ralston's 'Russian Folk Tales'; I met the incident subsequently in another Roman story.

The idea which has prompted this tale is apparently the same as that which has given rise to the story of 'Odysseus and the Seirens.' See Cox's 'Aryan Mythology,' II. 242.]

HOW CAJUSSE WAS MARRIED. [128]

There was a poor tailor starving for poverty because he could get no work. One day there knocked at his door a good-natured-looking old man; the tailor's son opened the door, and he won the boy's confidence immediately, saying he was his uncle. He also gave him a piastre [129] to buy a good dinner. When the father came home and found him installed, and heard that he called himself his son's uncle, and would, therefore, be his own brother, he was much surprised; but as he found he was so rich and so generous, he thought it better not to dispute his word. The visitor stayed a whole month, providing all expenses so freely all the time that everyone was delighted with him, and when at last he came to take leave, and proposed that the tailor's boy should go with him and learn some business at his expense, the son himself was all eagerness to go, and the father, too, willingly gave his consent.

As soon as they had gone a good way outside the gates the stranger said to the boy, 'It is all a dodge about my calling myself your uncle. I am not your uncle a bit; only I want a strong daring sort of boy to do something for me which I am too old to do myself. I am a wizard, [130] and if you do what I tell you I will reward you well; but if you attempt to resist or escape you may be sure you will suffer for it.'

'Tell me what I have to do, before we talk about resisting and escaping,' replied the boy; 'maybe I shan't mind doing it.'

They were walking on as they talked, and the boy observed that they got over much more ground than by ordinary walking, and they were now in a wild desolate country. The wizard said nothing till they reached a spot where there was a flat stone in the ground. Here he stopped, and as he lifted up the stone, he said, 'This is what you have to do. I will let you down with this rope, and you must go all along through the dark till you come to a place where is a beautiful garden. At the gate of the garden sits a fierce dog, which will fly out at you, and bark fearfully. I will give you some bread and cheese to throw to him, and, while he is devouring the bread and cheese, you must pass on. Then all manner of terrible noises will cry after you, calling you back; but take no heed of them, and, above all, do not look back; if you look back you are lost. As soon as you are out of sound of the voices you will see on a stone an old lantern, take that and bring it back to me.'

The boy showed no unwillingness to try his fortune, and the magician gave him the bread and cheese he had promised, and let him down by a rope. He gave him also a ring, saying, 'If anything else should happen, after you have got the lantern, to prevent your bringing it away, rub this ring and wish at the same time for deliverance, and you will be delivered.'

The boy did all the wizard had told him, and something more besides; for when he got into the garden he found the trees all covered with beautiful fruits, which were all so many precious stones; with these he filled his pockets till he could hardly move for the weight of them; then he came back to the opening of the cave, and called to the wizard to pull him up.

'Send up the lantern first,' said the magician, 'and I'll see about pulling you up afterwards.'

But the boy was afraid lest he should be left behind; so he refused to send up the lantern unless the wizard hauled him up with it. This the wizard would by no means do.

'Ah! the youngster will be frightened if I shut him up in the dark cave a bit,' said he, and closed the stone, meaning to call to him by-and-by to see if he had come round to a more submissive mind. The boy, however, finding himself shut up alone in the cave, bethought him of the ring, and rubbed it, wishing the while to be at home. Instantly he found himself there, lantern in hand. His parents were very much astonished at all he told them of his adventures, and, poor as they were, were very glad to have him safe back.

'I wonder what the magician wanted this ugly old lantern for,' said the boy to himself one day. 'It must be good for something or he would not have been so anxious to have it; let me try rubbing it, and see if that answers as well as rubbing the ring.' He no sooner did so than One [131] appeared, and asked his pleasure. 'A table well laid for dinner!' said the boy; and immediately a table appeared covered with all sorts of good things, with real silver spoons and forks. [132] Then he called on his mother and father, and they made a good meal; after that they lived for a month on the price of the silver which the mother took out and pawned. [133] One day she found the town all illuminated. What is going on?' she asked of the neighbours. 'The daughter of the Sultan is going to marry the son of the Grand Vizier, and there is a distribution of alms to the people on the occasion; that is why they rejoice.' Such was the answer.

When she came home she told her son what she had heard. He said, 'That will not be, because the daughter of the Sultan will have to marry me!' but she only laughed at him. The next day he brought her three neat little baskets filled with the precious stones which he had gathered in the under-ground garden, and he said, 'These you must take to the Sultan, and say I want to marry his daughter.' But she was afraid and would not go; and when at last he made her go, she stood in a corner apart behind all the people, for there was a public audience, and came back and said she could not get at the Sultan; but he made her go again the next two days following, and she always did the same. The last day, however, the Sultan sent for her, saying, 'Who is that old woman standing in the corner quite apart? bring her to me.' So they brought her to him all trembling.

'Don't be afraid, old woman,' said the Sultan. 'What have you to say?'

'My son, who must have lost his senses, sent me to say he wanted to marry the daughter of the Sultan,' said the old woman, crying for very fear; 'and he sends these baskets as a present.'

When the Sultan took the baskets and saw of what great value were the contents, he said, 'Don't be afraid, old woman; go back and tell your son I will give him an answer in a month.'

She went back and told her son; but at the end of a week the princess was married, nevertheless, to the son of the Grand Vizier.

'There!' said the mother, when she heard it; 'I thought the Grand Sultan was only making game of you. Was it likely that the daughter of the Sultan should marry a beggar, [134] like you?'

'Don't be in too great a hurry, mother,' replied the lad; 'leave it to me, leave it to me.' [135]

With that he went and took out the old lantern, and rubbed it till One appeared asking his pleasure.

'Go to-night, at three hours of night,' [136] was his reply, 'and take the daughter of the Sultan and lay her in a poor wallet in the out-house here.'

At three hours of night he went into the out-house and found the princess on the poor wallet as he had commanded. Then he laid his sabre on the bed between them, and sat down and talked to her; but she was too frightened to answer him. This he did three nights running. The princess, however, went crying to her mother, and told her all that had happened. The Sultana could not imagine how it was. 'But,' she said, 'something wrong there must be;' and she went and told the Sultan, and he, too, said it was all wrong, and that the marriage must be annulled. Also the son of the Grand Vizier went to his father and complained, saying, 'Every night my wife disappears just at bed-time, and, though the door is locked, I see nothing of her till the next morning.'

His father too said, 'There must be something wrong,' and when the Sultan said the marriage must be annulled, the Grand Vizier was quite willing. So the marriage was annulled.

At the end of the month, the lad made his mother go back to the Sultan for his answer, and he gave her three other baskets of precious stones to take with her. The Sultan, when he saw the man had so many precious stones to give away, thought he must be in truth a prince in disguise, and he answered, 'He may come and see us.' He also said, 'What is his name that I may know him?'

And his mother said, 'His name is Cajusse.'

So she went home and told her son what the sultan had said. Then he rubbed the lantern and asked for a suit to wear, all dazzling with gold and silver, and a richly caparisoned horse, and six pages in velvet dresses, four to ride behind, and one to go before with a purse scattering alms to the people, and one to cry, 'Make place for the Signor Cajusse!' Thus he came to the sultan, and the sultan received him well, and gave him his daughter to be his wife; but Cajusse had brought the lantern with him, and he rubbed it, and ordered that there should stand by the side of the sultan's palace a palace a great deal handsomer, furnished with every luxury, and that all the windows should be encrusted round with precious stones, all but one. This was all done as he had said, and he took the princess home with him to live there. Then he showed her all over the beautiful palace, and showed her the windows all encrusted with gems, 'and in this vacant one,' said he, 'we will put those in the six baskets I sent you before the sultan consented to our marriage; 'and they did so; but they did not suffice.

But the magician meantime had learnt by his incantations what had happened, and in order to get possession of the lantern he watched till Cajusse was gone out hunting; then he came by dressed as a pedlar of metal work, [137] and offered to exchange old lanterns for new ones. The princess thought to make a capital bargain by exchanging Cajusse's shabby old lantern for a brand new one, and thus fell into his snare. The magician no sooner had possession of it than he rubbed it, and ordered that the palace and all that was in it should be transported on to the high seas.

The sultan happened to look out of window just as the palace of Cajusse had disappeared. 'What is this?' he cried. And when he found the palace was really gone, he uttered so many furious threats that the people, who loved Cajusse well, ran out to meet him as he came home from hunting, and told him of all that had happened, and warned him of the sultan's wrath. Instead of going back to be put in prison by the sultan therefore, he rubbed his ring and desired to be taken to the place wherever the princess was. Instantly he found himself on a floating rock in mid ocean, at the foot of the palace. Then he went to the gate and sounded the horn. [138] The princess knew her husband's note of sounding and ran to the window. Great was her delight when she saw that it was really he, and she told him that there was a horrid old man who had possession of the palace, and persecuted her every day to marry him, saying her husband was dead. And she, to keep him at a distance, yet without offending him lest he should kill her, had said: 'No, I have always resolved never to marry an old man, because then if he dies I should be left alone, and that would be too sad.' 'But when I say that,' she continued, 'he always says, "You need not be afraid of that, for I shall never die!" so I don't know what to say next.'

Then the prince said, 'Make a great feast to-night, and say you will marry him if he tells you one thing: say it is impossible that he should never die, for all people die some day or other; it is impossible but that there should be some one thing or other that is fatal to him; ask him what that one fatal thing is, and he, thinking you want to know it that you may guard him against it, will tell; then come and tell me what he says.'

The princess did all her husband had told her, and then came back and repeated what the magician had said: 'One must go into the wood,' she repeated, 'where is the beast called hydra, and cut off all his seven heads. In the head which is in the middle of the other six, if it is split open, will be found a leveret; if this leveret is caught and his head split open there is a bird; if this bird is caught and his head split open, there is in it a precious stone. If that stone is put under my pillow I must die.'

The prince did not wait for anything more: he rubbed the ring, and desired to be carried to the wood where the hydra lived. Instantly he found himself face to face with the hydra, who came forward spueing fire. But Cajusse had also asked for a coat of mail and a mighty sword, and with one blow he cut off the seven heads. Then he called to his servant to take notice which was the head which was in the middle of the other six, and the servant pointed it out. Then he said, 'Watch when I split it open, for a leveret will jump out. Beware lest it escapes.' The servant stood to catch it, but it was so swift it ran past the servant. The prince, however, was swifter than it, and overtook it and killed it. Then he said, 'Beware when I split open the head of the leveret. A little bird will fly out; mind that it escapes not, for we are undone if it escapes.' So the servant stood ready to catch the bird, but the bird was so swift it flew past the servant. The prince, however, was swifter than the bird, and he overtook it and killed it, and split open its head and took out the precious stone. Then he rubbed the ring and bid it take him back to the princess. The princess was waiting for him at the window.

'Here is the stone,' said the prince; and he gave it to her, and with it a bottle of opium. 'To-night,' he said, 'you must say you are ready to marry the wizard; make a great feast again, and have ready some of this opium in his wine. He will sleep heavily, and not see what you are doing; then you can put the stone under his pillow and when he is dead call me.'

All this the princess did. She told the wizard that she was now ready to do as he wished. The magician was so delighted that he ordered a great banquet.

'Here,' said the princess at the banquet, 'is a little of my father's choicest wine, which I had with me in the palace when it was brought hither,' and she poured out to him to drink of the wine mixed with opium.

After this, when the wizard went to bed, he was heavy and took no notice what she did, and thus she put the stone under his pillow. No sooner did he, therefore, lay his head on the pillow than he gave three terrible yells, turned himself round and round three times, and was dead.

There was no need to call the prince, for he had heard the death yells, and immediately came up. They found the lantern, after they had hunted everywhere in vain, tied on to the magician's body under all his clothes, for he had hid it there that he might never part with it. By its power Cajusse ordered the palace to be removed back to its place, and there they lived happily for ever afterwards.

[The introduction into this story of the dog to be appeased with a sop, and the hydra to be slain, no trace of either occurring in 'Aladdin's Lamp,' is noticeable; the incident of the unjewelled window loses its point, probably through want of memory. The transporting the palace into the middle of the sea is a novel introduction; but the most remarkable change is in the mode of compassing the death of the magician. This episode as here described enters into a vast number of tales. It occurs in a Hungarian one I have in MS.:--A king directs in dying that his three sons shall go out to learn experience by adventure before they succeed to the throne. The first two nights of the journey the two elder brothers keep watch in turn, while the others sleep, and each kills a dragon. The third night, István (Stephen), the youngest, keeps watch, and is enticed away by the cries for help of a frog, which he delivers, but when he comes back the watch-fire is out. He has now to wander in search of fresh fire; he sees a spark in the distance and makes for it; by the way he meets 'Dame Midnight,' who tells him the fire is a week's journey off, so he binds her to a tree, and the same with 'The Lady Dawn,' so that it might not be day before his return. In a week he reaches the fire, but three giants guard it, who are laying siege to a vár (fortress) to obtain possession of three beautiful maidens, whom they destined to be the brides of the King of the Dwarfs and of the very two dragons his brothers had killed. But before they give him of their fire they say he must help them in the siege. He, however, kills them by stratagem, and makes his way into the princesses' sleeping apartment, takes three pledges of his having been there, and returns to his brothers. They continue their wanderings till they come to an inn where the three princesses and the king their father have established themselves in disguise, and make all who pass that way tell the tale of their adventures as a means of discovering who it was delivered them from the giants. The princes make themselves known, and the king bestows his daughters on them. As they drive home with their brides, they pass the Dwarf-King in a ditch by the roadside, who implores them to deliver him. The two elder brothers take no notice. István stops and helps him out. The dwarf with his supernatural strength thrusts István back into the ditch, and drives off with his bride. István sets out to search after and recover her; he meets the frog he delivered, who gives him supernatural aid, and leads him through heroic adventures in which he does service to other persons and animals, who in turn assist him by directing him to the palace of the Dwarf-King. Here exactly the same scene occurs between István and his bride as between Cajusse and the sultan's daughter, and they lay the same plan. But the Dwarf-King is more astute than the magician, and he at first tells her that his life's safety lies in his sceptre, on which she makes him give her the sceptre, 'that she may take care of it,' in reality intending to give it up to István. When he sees her so anxious for his safety, he tells her it is not in the sceptre, but he does not yet tell the truth; he next says it is in the royal mantle, and then in the crown (incidents proper to the version of Hungary, which sets so great store by the royal crown and mantle). Ultimately he confides that it resides in a golden cockchafer, inside a golden cock, inside a golden sheep, inside a golden stag, in the ninety-ninth sziget (island). She communicates all this to István. He overcomes the above-named series of golden animals by the aid of the animals he lately assisted, and thus recovers his bride.

All these incidents (somewhat differently worked in), occur in the Norse tale of 'The Giant who had no Heart in His Body,' and in the Russian 'Koschei the Deathless,' and in many others.

I have other of the 'Arabian Night' stories, told with the local colouring of characters and incidents proper to the neighbourhood of Rome; particularly various versions of 'The Forty Thieves,' leading to a number of Brigand stories, for which I have not space left in this volume.]

LEGENDARY TALES AND ESEMPJ.

WHEN JESUS CHRIST WANDERED ON EARTH.

1

One day the Madonna was carrying the Bambino through a lupin-field, and the stalks of the lupins rustled so, that she thought it was a robber coming to kill the Santo Bambino. [139] She turned, and sent a malediction over the lupin-field, and immediately the lupins all withered away and fell flat and dry on the ground, so that she could see there was no one hidden there. When she saw there was no one hidden there, she sent a benediction over the lupin-field, and the lupins all stood up straight again, fair and flourishing, and with tenfold greater produce than they had at the first.

2

One day when Jesus Christ was grown up, and went about preaching, He came to a certain village and knocked at the first door, and said, 'Give me a lodging.' [140] But the master of the house shut the door in his face, saying, 'Here is nothing for you.' He came to the next house, and received the same answer; and the next, and the next, no one in all the village would take Him in. Weary and footsore, He came to the cottage of a poor little old woman, who lived all alone on the outskirts, and knocked there. 'Who is there?' [141] asked the old woman. 'The Master with the Apostles,' answered Jesus Christ. The old woman opened the door, and let them all in. 'Have you no fire?' asked Jesus Christ. 'No fire have I,' answered the old woman. Then Jesus Christ blessed the hearth, and there came a pile of wood on it, and a fire was soon made. 'Have you nothing to give us to eat?' asked Jesus Christ. 'Nothing worth offering you,' answered the old woman; 'here is a little fish' (it was a little fish, that, not so long as my hand) 'and some crusts of bread, which they gave me at the eating-shop in charity just now, and that's all I have;' and she set both on the table. 'Have you no wine?' again asked Jesus Christ. 'Only this flask of wine and water they gave me there, too;' and she set it before Him.

Then Jesus Christ blessed all the things, and handed them round the table, and they all dined off them, and at the end there remained just the same as at the beginning. When they had finished, He said to the old woman, 'This fire, with the bread, and the fish, and the wine, will always remain to you, and never diminish as long as you live. And now follow Me a little way.'

The Master went on before with His Apostles, and the old woman followed after, a little way behind. And behold, as they walked along, all the houses of that inhospitable village fell down one after the other, and all the inhabitants were buried under them. Only the cottage of the old woman was left standing. When the judgment was complete, Jesus Christ said to her, 'Now, return home.' [142]

As she turned to go, St. Peter said to her, 'Ask for the salvation of your soul.' And she went and asked it of Jesus Christ, and He replied, 'Let it be granted you!'

3

One day as He was going into the Temple, He saw two men quarrelling before the door: a young man and an old man. The young man wanted to go in first, and the old man was vindicating the honour of his grey hairs.

'What is the matter?' asked Jesus Christ; and they showed Him wherefore they strove.

Jesus Christ said to the young man, 'If you are desirous to go in first, you must accept the state to which honour belongs,' and He touched him, and he became an old man, bowed in gait, feeble, and grey-haired, while to the old man He gave the compensation for the insult he had received, by investing him with the youth of the other.

4

In the days when Jesus Christ roamed the earth, He found Himself one day with His disciples in the Campagna, far from anything like home. The only shelter in sight was a cottage of wretched aspect. Jesus Christ knocked at the door.

'Who is there?' said a tremulous voice from within.

'The Master with the disciples,' answered Jesus Christ. The man didn't know what He meant; nevertheless, the tone was too gentle to inspire fear, so he opened, and let them all in.

'Have you no fire to give us?' asked Jesus Christ.

'I'm only a poor beggar. I never have any fire,' said the man.

'But these poor things,' said Jesus Christ, 'are stiff with cold and weariness; they must have a fire.'

Then Jesus Christ stood on the hearth, and blessed it, and there came a great blazing fire of heaped-up wood. When the beggar saw it, he fell on his knees in astonishment.

'Have you no food to set before us?' asked Jesus Christ.

'I have one loaf of Indian corn, [143] which is at your service,' answered the beggar.

'One loaf is not enough,' answered Jesus Christ; 'have you nothing else at all?'

'Nothing at all about the place that can be eaten,' answered the beggar. 'Leastwise, I have one ewe, which is at your service.'

'That will do,' answered Jesus Christ; and he sent St. Peter to help the man to prepare it for dressing.

'Here is the mutton,' said the beggar; 'but I cannot cook it, because I have no lard.' [144]

'Look!' said Jesus Christ.

The beggar looked on the hearth, and saw everything that was necessary ready for use.

'Now, then, bring the wine and the bread,' said Jesus Christ, when the meat was nearly ready.

'There is the only loaf I have,' said the beggar, setting the polenta loaf on the table; 'but, as for wine, I never see such a thing.'

'Is there none in the cellar?' asked Jesus Christ.

'In the cellar are only a dozen empty old broken wine-jars that have been there these hundred years; they are well covered with mould.' Jesus Christ told St. Peter to go down and see, and when he went down with the beggar, there was a whole ovenful of fresh-baked bread boiling hot, [145] and beyond, in the cellar, the jars, instead of being broken and musty, were all standing whole and upright, and filled with excellent wine.

'See how you told us falsely,' said St. Peter, to tease him.

'Upon my word, it was even as I said, before you came.'

'Then it is the Master who has done these wonderful things,' answered St. Peter. 'Praise Him!'

Now the meat was cooked and ready, and they all sat down to table; but Jesus Christ took a bowl and placed it in the midst of the table and said, 'Let all the bones be put into this bowl;' and when they had finished he took the bones and threw them out of the window, and said, 'Behold, I give you an hundred for one.' After that they all laid them down and slept.

In the morning when they opened the door to go, behold there were an hundred sheep grazing before the door.

'These sheep are yours,' said Jesus Christ; 'moreover, as long as you live, neither the bread in the oven nor the wine in the cellar shall fail;' and He passed out and the disciples after Him.

But St. Peter remained behind, and said to the man who had entertained them, 'The Master has rewarded you generously, but He has one greater gift yet which He will give you if you ask Him.'

'What is it? tell me what is it?' said the beggar.

'The salvation of your soul,' answered St. Peter.

'Signore! Signore! add to all Thou hast given this further, the salvation of my soul,' cried the man.

'Let it be granted thee,' [146] answered the Lord, and passed on His way.

5

Another day Jesus Christ and His disciples dined at a tavern. [147]

'What's to pay?' said Jesus Christ, when they had finished their meal.

'Nothing at all,' answered the host.

But the host had a little hunchback son, who said to him, 'I know some have found it answer to give these people food instead of making them pay for it; but suppose they forget to give us anything, we shall be worse off than if we had been paid in the regular way. I will tell you what I'll do now, so as to have a hold over them. I'll take one of our silver spoons and put it in the bag that one of them carries, and accuse them of stealing it.'

Now St. Peter was a great eater, and when anything was left over from a good meal he was wont to put it by in a bag against a day when they had nothing. Into this bag therefore the hunchback put the silver spoon.

When they had gone on a little way the young hunchback ran after them and said to Jesus Christ,--

'Signore! one of these with you has stolen a spoon from us.'

'You are mistaken, friend; there is not one of them who would do such a thing.'

'Yes,' persevered the hunchback; 'it is that one who took it,' and he pointed to St. Peter.

'I!!' said St. Peter, getting very angry. 'How dare you to say such a thing of me!'

But Jesus Christ made him a sign that he should keep silence.

'We will go back to your house and help you to look for what you have lost, for that none of us have taken the spoon is most certain,' He said; and He went back with the hunchback.

'There is nowhere to search,' answered the hunchback, 'but in that man's bag; I know it is there, because I saw him take it.'

'Then there's my bag inside out,' said St. Peter, as he cast the contents upon the floor. Of course the silver spoon fell clattering upon the bricks.

'There!' said the hunchback, insolently. 'Didn't I tell you it was there? You said it wasn't!'

St. Peter was so angry he could not trust himself to speak; but Jesus Christ answered for him:

'Nay, I said not it was not there, but that none of these had taken it. And now we will see who it was put it there.' With that He motioned to them all to stand back, while He, standing in the midst and raising his eyes to Heaven, said solemnly,

'Let whoso put it in the bag be turned to stone!'

Even as He spoke the hunchback was turned into stone.

6

There was another tavern, however, where the host was a different sort of man, and not only said he would take nothing when Jesus Christ and His disciples dined there, but really would never take anything; nor was it that by any miracle he had received advantages of another sort, but out of the respect and affection he bore the Master he deemed himself sufficiently paid by the honour of being allowed to minister to Him.

One day when Jesus Christ and His disciples were going away on a journey, St. Peter went to this host and said, 'You have been very liberal to us all this time: if you were to ask for some gift, now, you would be sure to get it.'

'I don't know that there is anything that I want,' said the host. 'I have a thriving trade, which you see not only supplies all my wants, but leaves me the means of being liberal also; I have no wife to provide for, and no children to leave an inheritance to: so what should I ask for? There is one thing, to be sure, I should like. My only amusement is playing at cards: if He would give me the faculty of always winning, I should like that; it isn't that I care for what one wins, it is that it is nice to win. Do you think I might ask that?'

'I don't know,' said St. Peter, gravely. 'Still you might ask; He is very kind.'

The host did ask, and Jesus Christ granted his desire. When St. Peter saw how easily He granted it, he said, 'If I were you, I should ask something more.'

'I really don't know what else I have to ask,' replied the host, 'unless it be that I have a fig-tree which bears excellent figs, but I never can get one of them for myself; they are always stolen before I get them. I wish He would order that whoever goes up to steal them might get stuck to the tree till I tell him he may come down.'

'Well,' said St. Peter, 'it is an odd sort of thing to ask, but you might try; He is very kind.'

The host did ask, and Jesus Christ granted his request. When St. Peter saw that He granted it so easily, he said, 'If I were you I should ask something more.'

'Do you really think I might?' answered the host. 'There is one thing I have wanted to ask all along, only I didn't dare. But you encourage me, and He seems to take a pleasure in giving. I have always had a great wish to live four hundred years.'

'That is certainly a great deal to ask,' said St. Peter, 'but you might try; He is very kind.'

The host did ask, and Jesus Christ granted his petition, and then went His way with His disciples. St. Peter remained last, and said to the host, 'Now run after him, and ask for the salvation of your soul.' ('St. Peter always told them all to ask that,' added the narrator in a confidential tone.)

'Oh, I can't ask anything more, I have asked so much,' said the host.

'But that is just the best thing of all, and what He grants the most willingly,' insisted St. Peter. 'Really?' said the host; and he ran after Jesus Christ, and said, 'Lord! who hast so largely shown me Thy bounty, grant me further the salvation of my soul.'

'Let it be granted!' said Jesus Christ; and continued His journey.

All the things the host had asked he received, and life passed away very pleasantly, but still even four hundred years come to an end at last, and with the end of it came Death.

'What! is that you, Mrs. Death, [148] come already?' said the host.

'Why, it's time I should come, I think; it's not often I leave people in peace for four hundred years.'

'All right, but don't be in a hurry. I have such a fancy for the figs of that fig-tree of mine there. I wish you would just have the kindness to go up and pluck a good provision of them to take with me, and by that time I'll be ready to go with you.'

'I've no objection to oblige you so far,' said Mrs. Death; 'only you must mind and be quite ready by the time I do come back.'

'Never fear,' said the host; and Mrs. Death climbed up the fig-tree.

'Now stick there!' said the host, and for all her struggling Mrs. Death could by no means extricate herself any more.

'I can't stay here, so take off your spell; I have my business to attend to,' said she.

'So have I,' answered the host; 'and if you want to go about your business, you must promise me, on your honour, you will leave me to attend to mine.'

'I can't do it, my man! What are you asking? It's more than my place is worth. Every man alive has to pass through my hands. I can't let any of them off.'

'Well, at all events, leave me alone another four hundred years, and then I'll come with you. If you'll promise that, I'll let you out of the fig-tree.'

'I don't mind another four hundred years, if you so particularly wish for them; but mind you give me your word of honour you come then, without giving me all this trouble again.'

'Yes! and here's my hand upon it,' said the host, as he handed Mrs. Death down from the fig-tree.

And so he went on to live another four hundred years. ('For you know in those times men lived to a very great age,' was the running gloss of the narrator.)

The end of the second four hundred years came too, and then Mrs. Death appeared again. 'Remember your promise,' she said, 'and don't try any trick on me this time.'

'Oh, yes! I always keep my word,' said the host, and without more ado he went along with her.

As she was carrying him up to Paradise, they passed the way which led down to Hell, and at the opening sat the Devil, receiving souls which his ministers brought to him from all parts. He was marshalling them into ranks, and ticketing them ready to send off in batches to the distinct place for each.

'You seem to have got plenty of souls there, Mr. Devil,' said the host. 'Suppose we sit down and play for them?'

'I've no objection,' said the Devil. 'Your soul against one of these. If I win, you go with them; if you win, one of them goes with you.'

'That's it,' said the host, and picking out a nice-looking soul, he set him for the Devil's stake.

Of course the host won, and the nice-looking soul was passed round to his side of the table.

'Shall we have another game?' said the host, quite cock-a-hoop.

The Devil hesitated for a moment, but finally he yielded. The host picked out a soul that took his fancy, for the Devil's stake, and they sat down to play again, with the same result.

So they went on and on till the host had won fifteen thousand souls of the Devil. 'Come,' said Death when they had got as far as this, 'I really can't wait any longer. I never had to do with anyone who took up so much time as you. Come along!'

So the host bowed excuses to the Devil for having had all the luck, and went cheerfully the way Mrs. Death led, with all his fifteen thousand souls behind him. Thus they arrived at the gate of Paradise. There wasn't so much business going on there as at the other place, and they had to ring before anyone appeared to open the door.

'Who's there?' said St. Peter.

'He of the four hundred years!'

'And what is all that rabble behind?' asked St. Peter.

'Souls that I have won of the Devil for Paradise,' answered the host.

'Oh, that won't do at all, here!' said St. Peter.

'Be kind enough to carry the message up to your Master,' responded the host.

St. Peter went up to Jesus Christ. 'Here is he to whom you gave four hundred years of life,' he said; 'and he has brought fifteen thousand other souls, who have no title at all to Paradise, with him.'

'Tell him he may come in himself,' said Jesus Christ, 'but he has nothing to do to meddle with the others.'

'Tell Him to be pleased to remember that when He came to my eating-shop I never made any difficulty how many soever He brought with Him, and if He had brought an army I should have said nothing,' answered the host; and St. Peter took up that message too.

'That is true! that is right!' answered Jesus Christ. 'Let them all in! let them all in!'

7

PRET' OLIVO. [149]

When Jesus Christ was on earth, He lodged one night at a priest's house, and when He went away in the morning He offered to give His host, in reward for his hospitality, whatever he asked. What Pret' Olivo (for that was his host's name) asked for was that he should live a hundred years, and that when Death came to fetch him he should be able to give her what orders he pleased, and that she must obey him.

'Let it be granted!' said Jesus Christ.

A hundred years passed away, and then, one morning early, Death came.

'Pret' Olivo! Pret' Olivo!' cried Death, 'are you ready? I'm come for you at last.'

'Let me say my mass first,' said Pret' Olivo; 'that's all.'

'Well, I don't mind that,' answered Death; 'only mind it isn't a long one, because I've got so many people to fetch to-day.'

'A mass is a mass,' answered Pret' Olivo; 'it will be neither longer nor shorter.'

As he went out, however, he told his servant to heap up a lot of wood on the hearth and set fire to it. Death went to sit down on a bench in the far corner of the chimney, and by-and-by the wood blazed up and she couldn't get away any more. In vain she called to the servant to come and moderate the fire. 'Master told me to heap it up, not to moderate it,' answered the servant; and so there was no help. Death continued calling in desperation, and nobody came. It was impossible with her dry bones to pass the blaze, so there she had to stay.

'Oh, dear! oh, dear! what can I do?' she kept saying; 'all this time everybody is stopped dying! Pret' Olivo! Pret' Olivo! come here.'

At last Pret' Olivo came in.