Chapter II: Part 2

“I am the Prince who was changed into the horse for the ogre,” said the youth, addressing the Princess. “I was stolen at the same time you were and the ogre who was the husband of the witch took me and the witch took you, but this youth has rescued us, for it was here that the magic bean was kept that restored me to my own form, and if it had not been for a fairy who came to me one night and told me the secret I never should have regained my own form.”

All the time the Prince was speaking the peasant saw the Princess looking at him with loving glance, and he knew the Princess was not for him, and besides that he knew he never would be happy in a palace.

They began to look about and found they were in a beautiful palace that the old witch had lived in, but, now that she was gone for good, the peasant said he would take it as his reward and let the Prince and the Princess return to her father.

In the stables they found beautiful white horses, and on one of them the Prince and Princess rode away after making the peasant promise to come to their wedding and to dance with the bride. “For we will never forget you,” said the Princess, “and we must always be friends.”

The father and mother of the Princess listened to the story the Prince told, and then the Queen said: “I can tell whether this is my lost child or not. Let me see your left shoulder; she bears her name on that shoulder if she be our child.”

The Princess bared her shoulder and there the Queen saw a tiny lily which proved she was her child.

The King gave a great feast in honor of his daughter’s return, and the Prince and Princess were married; and the peasant danced at the wedding as he promised.

NARDO AND THE PRINCESS

Once there lived a king who had two sons, and, though they were twins, they were as different as if they had been strangers.

Nardo was kind and good, while his brother Stephen was greedy and selfish, never doing any one kindness.

One day there came to the King’s gates an old beggar man who asked for a night’s lodging and food.

The brothers were standing near and Stephen told the servants to close the gates, that a palace was no place for beggars.

“Stop,” said Nardo to the servant; “a palace is just the place for beggars. Brother, we have a plenty and to spare; let the poor man enter.”

The beggar thanked Nardo and said: “You shall never regret your kindness. Wear this ring, and whenever you wish for something money cannot buy you shall have your wish.”

Nardo put the ring in his pocket and forgot all about it until he fell in love with a beautiful princess, and, like all lovers, he was afraid she did not love him.

Then he remembered the old beggar man and the ring, and put it on and wished for the love of the beautiful Princess.

It happened that Stephen also loved the Princess, but he knew she did not love him, and, seeing the ring the old beggar had given Nardo on his hand one day, he remembered what the beggar had said when he gave his brother the ring.

“I must have the ring,” said Stephen. “Then I will have the love of the Princess; besides that, her father, the King, is old, and when he dies I shall be king in his place.”

But it was no easy matter to possess the ring, for Nardo was as big and strong as Stephen. There was no way to get the ring from off his finger unless he took it by force or could get some witch to weave a spell over him.

And all this time the beautiful Princess was in love with Nardo. Had he only known it, he needed no magic ring to win her love for him.

One night after trying in vain to get the ring Stephen went to an old witch who lived in a cave by the sea and asked her to get the ring for him, promising to make her rich if she would get it.

The witch was greedy for gold, so one night while Nardo slept she crept into the palace, aided by the wicked Stephen, and cast a spell over Nardo, which made him forget the ring and also his love for the beautiful Princess.

Stephen, with the ring on his finger, felt that all was easy now, and he promptly forgot all about the old witch and the gold he promised her.

The beautiful Princess looked with sad eyes upon the now cold and indifferent Nardo, and, while she did not love Stephen, she felt each day that she was being drawn to him, though she knew well enough she did not love any one but Nardo.

The old witch, however, helped the Princess out of part of her troubles, for when she found that Stephen did not intend to give her the gold, she waited for him one day in the palace grounds, hidden behind a clump of bushes, and when he came out for a walk she pointed her lean fingers at him and placed him under a spell which made him follow her to her cave by the sea.

Here she chained him to a rock and put a dragon to watch that he did not escape; but while the Princess escaped marrying Stephen, he still possessed the ring which kept Nardo from remembering he had ever loved the Princess.

One night when the Princess was sitting in her window looking at the moon and sighing over her lost lover and his love she saw a nightingale caught by its wing in a tree.

The tree was so close that the Princess had only to reach out and rescue the poor bird and set it free.

The nightingale, in gratitude for its life, began to sing so sweetly that the Princess exclaimed, “Oh, sing each night by my window, beautiful bird, that I may for a little while at least forget my sorrow.”

The hour of midnight was just then striking, and as the last stroke of twelve died away the nightingale changed into a fairy.

“I am powerless to use my magic until the hour of midnight strikes,” said the little fairy. “I have chosen to become a nightingale until then, and the Queen will not give me the power of a fairy until I change my form to one.

“If it had not been for your kindness I might never have become a fairy again, for the nightingale’s wing would have been broken, and no imperfect creature can reclaim its form, once it has changed from a fairy.

“If I can help you, tell me and I will go to the Queen and ask to remain a fairy, and then no matter how hard the task you set I am sure I can make you happy.”

Of course, the Princess did not know about the magic ring, and she could only tell the fairy how once she had felt sure that Nardo loved her and then suddenly he had changed and would not notice her at all.

The fairy listened to the Princess and told her not to worry; that she was sure there was something wrong; that Nardo still loved her, and at midnight the next night she would return, and away she flittered in the moonlight, leaving the Princess happier than she had been for many a day.

It took the fairy but a short time to unravel the mystery, and the next night when the Princess went to her window she found the little fairy waiting for her, perched on the sill.

“Do not grieve, my Princess,” said the fairy. “Nardo still loves you; it is all the work of his wicked brother Stephen, who loved you, too.”

Then she told the Princess the story of the ring and how Stephen had got the old witch to get it for him, and that if he had given her the gold he would have married the Princess in spite of all she could have done.

“But if Nardo still loves me, why does he keep away? Why does he not tell me of his love?” asked the Princess.

“He will, my dear Princess, when he remembers,” said the fairy, “and there is where the difficult part comes in.

“We must get the ring or the stone. It is only the stone that holds the charm, but that is still on Stephen’s finger, and to get near to him the dragon must be overpowered.”

“Oh! I will send all my father’s soldiers,” said the Princess; “they can kill the dragon, I am sure.”

“Not a dragon that belongs to a witch,” said the fairy, “and if my plan works, and I think it will, we shall not need soldiers. I will be back before the sun rises. Wait for me.”

Away went the fairy to her Queen and again asked to be changed into a nightingale. “It is to help some one in trouble, dear Queen,” she said, “and never again will I ask to change my form.”

The Queen granted her wish and away flew the nightingale toward the sea, where lived the witch and the dragon.

When she was near the cave she began her sweetest song, and as she flew nearer she sang more sweetly and softly until she alighted on a tree right over the rock where lay the dragon and the sleeping Stephen.

The eyes of the dragon were wide open, watching on all sides for any one who might dare attempt to rescue Stephen.

When he heard the sweet tones of the nightingale the dragon raised its head and looked around, but, seeing only a bird perched over his head, he had no fear. Softly, sweetly, the nightingale trilled and sang its soothing song until at last the dragon began to nod its head, and after a while it dropped to the ground, fast asleep.

The poor nightingale was so worn out with singing so long that it hardly had strength to fly down to where Stephen was sleeping.

Very carefully it did so with only a soft waving of its wings, and then its bill plucked from the ring on Stephen’s hand the red stone, and off it flew with the stone held tightly in its bill.

Only once did it stop, and that was to sip a drop of dew from a rose-bush where it alighted to rest, and then on it went to the palace where Nardo was sleeping and flew through the window of his bedroom.

Nardo’s hand was open on the pillow beside his face, and into his hand the nightingale placed the red stone and flew away to the Princess.

“Your lover will be here with the sun,” she said, “and as it is not far from that time I must fly to my Queen.

“Farewell, my kind Princess. May you be happy with your Prince, and if you are as good and kind as a Queen as you were when a Princess I shall never regret my night’s work.”

The Princess thanked her again and again, but the fairy was away before she had finished, and just then the sun peeped through the trees and at the same time the sound of horses’ hoofs was heard coming along the road.

The Princess’s cheeks grew red, for she knew it was her lover, and when she reached the palace door there he was just riding up.

When the spell was broken for Nardo it released poor Stephen from the power of the witch; the sea rolled in and the wind shrieked among the trees and the next thing Stephen knew he was running through the forest toward his home.

Of course, he was too much ashamed to tell of all that had happened to him and said he had been hunting in the forest and lost his way; and Nardo and the Princess kept his secret and did not let him know they were aware of his treachery, and as he grew to be a better man as the years went by, they were glad they did.

OLD THREE HEADS

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Lucy. She was always opening doors and looking into rooms that did not belong to her, and it made her appear very rude.

One day Lucy was sent to the woods to gather berries, but instead of filling her basket as she should have done she walked about, looking behind rocks and trees, thinking that she might find an opening in some of them.

“Better look out for Old Three Heads,” said a squirrel, as he ran past her.

“I wonder what he means,” she said. “I must keep on looking, for somewhere around here Old Three Heads must live, or the squirrel would not have said ‘look out,’ and I want to see what he is like.”

“Better look out for Old Three Heads,” called a bird from the limb of a tree.

“Better look out for Old Three Heads,” called a rabbit as he ran into his hole.

“I wish some one would tell me where Old Three Heads lives,” said Lucy, “instead of just saying look out for him.”

Just then she came to a path which led through thick bushes.

“I will see where this leads,” she said. “Perhaps it leads to Old Three Heads’ house.”

Lucy walked along the path and soon she saw a castle standing among the trees. Most little girls would have hesitated about going into a strange house, but Lucy’s curiosity was so great she thought only of seeing the inside of the castle. She walked up the steps and opened the door. The hall was long and dark, but she was not afraid. So she closed the door and walked along.

There were many doors on each side of the hall, and Lucy opened one and looked in. In one corner of the room was a horse with three heads. “What a queer place to keep a horse!” thought Lucy.

“Better look out for Old Three Heads,” said the horse, shaking all three heads and looking sad.

“How did you get three heads?” asked Lucy.

“I looked in the window one day when Old Three Heads was eating his dinner, and he saw me. You better look out,” he warned her again.

Lucy thought of the other doors and decided to keep on, for she was very anxious to see what was behind all of them.

She opened another door and a three-headed cat ran toward her. “You have only one head!” said the cat, in a tone of surprise. “You better look out for Old Three Heads.”

“I am not afraid,” said Lucy, as she left the room and opened another door. In this room was a three-headed dog. He looked at her and said, “Better look out for Old Three Heads; you will find him if you keep on opening doors.”

“I want to see him,” answered Lucy. “Where is he?”

“You better run while you can,” said the dog, “but you will find him if you keep on, and then you will wish you had taken my advice.”

But Lucy only laughed and went to another door. In that room she saw a three-headed cow.

“What a queer place!” she said. “I never saw animals living in a house before. Why are the animals kept in the house?” she asked the cow.

“We belong to Old Three Heads,” replied the cow, “and every creature that comes in this castle has three heads. You better look out for Old Three Heads,” she warned her.

“Why did you come in, if you knew you had to wear three heads?” asked Lucy.

“We wanted to see what was in here, just as you did,” replied the cow. “The cat found the door open and she walked in to look about; the dog saw her enter and he followed. Old Three Heads saw them. You better look out,” she warned Lucy again.

But Lucy was more curious than ever, and she kept on with her questions.

“How did you and the horse get three heads?” she asked. “You did not walk in the door, did you?”

“Not at first,” answered the cow. “The horse put his head in the window one day when it was open and Old Three Heads saw him.”

“And you,” asked Lucy again, for the cow stopped and hung her three heads, “what did you do?”

“I saw some green corn on the window-sill,” the cow confessed, very slowly, “and I put my head in the window to get it and Old Three Heads saw me.”

“What happens when he sees you?” she asked.

“Wait and see,” replied the cow. “But I have warned you; you’d better look out for Old Three Heads and run while you can.”

As that was all the information she could get from the cow, Lucy told her she would find out for herself how they all got their three heads, and she went to the next door and opened it.

The room was dark, and at first Lucy could not see anything, but some one said, “Who-who,” and as the sound came from a corner of the room Lucy went in and looked about.

As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness she saw perched on the back of a chair an owl with three heads.

“Well, of all things!” exclaimed Lucy. “How did so wise a bird as you happen to be caught by Old Three Heads?” she asked.

“Who-who are you?” stuttered the owl. “You-you better look out for Old Three Heads,” he warned Lucy.

“Tell me how it happened that you have three heads,” asked Lucy, ignoring the warning as she had before.

“Who-who are you?” stuttered the owl again.

“I am a girl,” said Lucy. “Can’t you see?”

“Bet-bet-better look out,” warned the owl again.

“Oh dear!” said Lucy. “You are worse than the others. I am going to find Old Three Heads and find out, if I can, how all of you got three heads.”

“Who-who,” said the owl as she went out of the room.

Lucy opened another door, and there on the throne in this room sat a giant with three heads. She had found Old Three Heads at last.

For the first time since she entered the castle Lucy was frightened when she saw the curious-looking creature; but there was no chance to escape; it was too late.

The giant looked at her a second, and then he called out to his attendants, who all had three heads but were much smaller men: “Bring the intruder before me.”

“Bring two heads,” he said, when Lucy stood before him.

When the heads were brought one had black hair and one red.

“I do not want those heads,” said Lucy; “they do not match my hair. Can’t I have two golden-haired heads?”

“Those are all I have,” said the giant, “and you will have to wear them. On with them,” he said, and the attendants fastened the heads on Lucy’s shoulders, one on each side of her own head.

“I wish I could see myself,” said Lucy, still curious.

“Take her to her room,” said the giant, and Lucy was taken to one of the rooms that opened out of the long hall.

When she was alone she looked around the room and saw a mirror hanging on the wall. She ran and looked into it. The new heads looked very cross.

“What is the matter with you?” asked Lucy.

“I do not like red hair or light hair,” said the dark-haired head.

“And I do not like dark hair or light hair,” said the head with red hair.

“I cannot help that,” said Lucy. “I did not want either of you.”

“I will not stay here,” said the dark-haired head.

“Neither will I,” said the head with the red hair.

And they began to pull away. Lucy bent first to one side and then to the other, with the pulling of the quarrelsome heads.

“Do keep quiet,” she said at last. “I am sorry I said anything about the color of your hair. If you will be good I’ll try to get you something nice to eat.”

This plan quieted the heads, and Lucy went to the door. It was not locked, and she opened it and went out.

First she went to the room where the horse was.

“Horse, can you tell me where I can get something to eat?” she asked.

“Yes,” said the horse. “Go to the fireplace and call up the chimney.”

“I want my dinner,” Lucy called.

Down came a table with food upon it and a chair standing beside it. Lucy seated herself and began to eat.

Then the trouble began; every time she raised the fork to her mouth the dark head or the head with red hair would stretch out their necks and take the food from the fork before Lucy could get a chance.

The new heads quarreled because each thought the other was getting more than its share.

Lucy put her fork and knife on the table in despair. “You are a pair of greedy heads,” she said. “I have not had a bite.”

“It is all your fault,” said one; “you should not have got us.”

Lucy went into the room where the cat was and asked her if she would tell her where she could get something to drink.

“Rap three times on the wall,” said the cat.

Lucy tried this and a cup appeared filled with water. Lucy tried to put it up to her lips, but the head with the red hair reached it and drank all the water.

Lucy rapped again, and another cup appeared, and this time the head with dark hair reached it and drank every drop of water before Lucy could stop it.

She tried several times, but each time the greedy heads drank it before she could get her lips to the cup.

She went into the room where the dog was kept.

“Where can I find a comfortable chair and a book?” she asked.

“Tap on the floor three times,” the dog said.

Lucy did as he said, and a chair appeared, and beside it a table filled with books. Lucy opened one of the books and looked at the pictures.

“I cannot see them,” said the head with the red hair. Lucy moved the book to one side.

“I should think you would remember that you have three heads,” said the head with the dark hair. “How do you expect me to see if you keep the book over that side?”

Lucy moved the book to the other side, and then the head with the red hair began to fuss again.

“Oh dear!” said Lucy. “You are the most selfish heads I ever saw. I will go to the cow and see if she can help me,” she said.

“Where can I find a bed?” she asked the cow. “These heads have just tired me out.”

“I will get you one,” said the cow. “Moo, moo!” she called up and from the floor came a bed.

Lucy lay down upon it. “I do not want to go to sleep,” said the head with dark hair. “I do,” said Lucy. “I am tired and I am going to sleep; you can stay awake if you wish to.”

“I do not feel tired,” said the head with red hair; “I feel like singing,” and it began to sing so loudly that Lucy had to get up.

“I’ll go to the owl and see if he can help me,” she said, as she went out of the room.

She went into the room where the owl was and opened the window. The owl hid its three heads.

“You are such a wise bird,” she said to the owl, “I wish you would tell me what to do with these new heads; they quarrel all the time.”

“Who-who!” said the owl.

“I cannot understand how any one could ever think you were wise,” said Lucy; “all you can say is who-who. I wish I could be rid of these troublesome heads.”

“Why don’t you, then?” said the head with red hair. “We come off if you pull hard.”

“I never thought of that,” said Lucy, pulling at the head with red hair.

Off it came and flew through the window.

Then she tried the other and it came off and followed the other through the window.

“Would you like to be rid of your extra heads?” Lucy asked the owl.

“Who-who,” answered the owl.

“You silly bird!” said Lucy, pulling at his extra heads. Off they came and followed Lucy’s heads.

“Let’s go to the cow,” said Lucy, “and take off her heads.”

The owl tried to follow her, but bumped against the wall and fell to the floor.

“Oh, I forgot that you could not see in the daytime,” said Lucy. “I’ll put you on my shoulder,” she said, picking him up from the floor.

“Would you like to get rid of your extra heads?” Lucy asked the cow.

“Of course I would,” she said. “How did you get rid of yours?”

“I will show you,” said Lucy, pulling at the cow’s extra heads. Off they came and out the window they flew.

“Well, I never should have thought of that,” said the cow.

“Let us go to the cat and the dog and the horse,” said Lucy, “and help them to get rid of their troubles.”

Each of them said they had never thought to try pulling the extra heads off, and they were very grateful to Lucy for helping them.

The heads all flew out of the window and that was the last that was ever seen of them.

“I think we should get out of this place as soon as we can,” said Lucy. “Old Three Heads might get us again.”

They hurried out of the house and soon were in the woods a long way from the castle.

“Did Old Three Heads get you?” asked the animals they met in the woods.

Lucy told them he did. “But he will not bother you,” she said, “if you keep away from his house, and I warn you that three heads are a nuisance, and you may not be so fortunate as we have been in escaping from them.”

“Did you have to feed them all?” asked a squirrel.

“Yes,” answered Lucy, “or at least I tried to, but they quarreled so that I had to go without.”

“I will never go near Old Three Heads,” said the squirrel. “I have all I can do to take care of one head.”

“I have had my lesson,” said Lucy. “I shall never look into rooms again when the door is closed, for one head is all I care to have.”

THE ENCHANTED BOAT

Once there was a King who had a very beautiful daughter, and when the Queen died the King married a woman who had a son named Tito because he thought this new Queen would be kind and good to the Princess.

But in this the King was greatly mistaken, for the Queen thought only of her son and wished to make him King.

She told the King that if he would make the Princess marry Tito that he need have no fear about the future of his kingdom, for he could be sure her son would make a good king.

“And a woman should not be Queen and rule alone such a big kingdom as you possess,” said the scheming Queen.

The King, who thought more of his daughter’s happiness than anything in the world, called the Princess and told her of his plan. “Marry your stepmother’s son and all will be well with you and I can die happy,” he told the Princess.

But the Princess did not want to marry Tito, for she did not love him, and when she found that her father would not listen to her pleadings, but told her that very night she should wed Tito, the little Princess ran out of the palace and threw herself face down on the grass and wept.

When it came time for the wedding she was nowhere to be found, and though the palace and the gardens were searched, it was all in vain. The Princess had disappeared.

What had happened was that while the Princess was crying and bemoaning her sad lot she heard a sound, and when she looked up there was a lake she had never seen at the foot of the garden, and on it a beautiful boat with a sail of silk the color of gold.

There was no one in the boat, and the Princess, forgetting her sorrow in her wonderment at this strange sight, ran down to the water’s edge, where another surprise awaited her. For the boat came sailing straight to the place where she stood.

The Princess stepped in, and away went the boat out over the blue water, and in a few minutes she was in a country she had never seen before.

The little Princess was not frightened, for she felt sure nothing worse could befall her than if she stayed at the palace and had to marry Tito, and, while she was sorry to leave her father, she could not be happy with a man she did not love.

The lake led to a river, along the banks of which were high hills and beautiful woods, and the Princess was so lost in admiring the beauty of the scene she did not notice they were approaching a castle until her boat sailed under a white marble bridge, which soon brought her at the steps which led into the garden of the castle.

Here the strange boat stopped and the Princess knew she was expected to get out.

She walked up the steps into a garden filled with pink and white roses, with a fountain of pearl and gold in the center which threw a perfumed spray all about, which filled the air with fragrance.

There were no paths in the garden, but the grass was like green velvet and yellow birds flittered among the small green trees and sang sweet songs.

Through the roses and trees the Princess saw the entrance to the castle, and on the broad steps of marble and gold came a queer-looking creature followed by more servants than the Princess had ever seen in her father’s palace.

The Princess did not feel at all afraid, although the strange-looking creature had the body of a beautiful leopard, while his head was that of the handsomest youth the Princess had ever beheld.

His hair was dark and as he came nearer to her the Princess saw that his eyes were deep blue, the kindest eyes she had ever seen.

He held out one huge paw toward her and then withdrew it and said, “I fear you will not care to take the paw of such a beast as I am, but I can assure you I will not harm you, Princess.”

“I am not afraid,” said the Princess, putting out her hand, “but tell me how you know that I am a princess?”

After the leopard-man had taken her hand he led her up the steps, and as they walked along he told her that no one but a princess could have entered the boat. “It had sailed for many a year in quest of the princess who would be willing to sail away in it,” he told her, “and as only a princess can help me, no one but a princess could get into the enchanted boat.”

When the Princess and the leopard-man entered the castle he told her his strange story. He was a prince who had been changed by a witch into the shape she saw, and the only thing that could save him was a gold root which grew far up on a blue mountain-peak.

“But that root must be brought to me by a princess and no one else,” said the leopard-man, “so you see how impossible it is that I shall ever regain my own shape.”

“If you will tell me where this blue mountain-peak can be found,” said the Princess, “I will undertake the task, for I do not wish to return to my father’s palace, and I would like to help you.”

“The enchanted boat will take you if you really wish to try,” said the leopard-man, “but I fear it is a task you are far from fitted to undertake, for no one can go with you; that would break the spell.”

The Princess, however, told him she would try, and at once set out on the strange errand, the boat sailing along the river and then out into the open sea.

By and by the Princess saw on the side of a high mountain, the top of which was blue, something growing which shone like gold, and she knew it must be the golden root for which she was seeking.

The enchanted boat sailed close to the foot of the mountain and stopped, and the Princess knew she was to get out, but how was she to reach the golden root which grew far up on the mountain?

The Princess stepped out of the boat on the rocks and sat down to think what she could do, for to climb up the steep, smooth side of the mountain was out of the question; if only she could fly she thought she might reach it.

Just then she heard a swishing sound, and, looking up, she saw a big eagle coming toward her with a broken leg.

The bird fell at her feet, and, as so many strange things had already happened, the Princess did not feel afraid of the big creature, for she felt sure that in some way he would help her.

“Oh, you poor hurt bird!” she said, tearing off a piece of her dress to bind up its leg; then from a stream falling from the mountain she brought in the hollow of her hand water for him to drink.

At night the Princess took off her cloak and covered the eagle, while she huddled close to the mountain and behind a rock to keep the cold from herself.

In the morning she was surprised to find the eagle had flown away, but on the rocks was her cloak, and two feathers from the wings of the bird lay beside it.

The Princess put on her cloak and took up one of the feathers, and to her surprise the hand that held the feather flew up over her head.

She picked up the other feather with the other hand and up she was carried, her cloak spreading out like a pair of wings.

With the feathers she guided herself until she alighted on the top of the blue-peaked mountain.

She laid the feathers down and began to dig for the root which the Prince had said was the only thing that could save him.

When she had enough of the golden root she again took the feathers, one in each hand, and flew down to the water, where the enchanted boat, which had sailed away when she left it, now stood waiting.

The feathers from the eagle she put carefully on the rocks, but the bird was nowhere to be seen, and, knowing that it must have been a part of the magic plan to help her, the Princess sailed away, feeling sure the eagle was safe and his broken leg quite well.

When she reached the castle of the leopard-man he was on the steps to meet her and without waiting to enter the castle he took the golden root from her and tasted it.

The leopard body disappeared and there he stood before her, a tall, handsome youth whom any maiden, even a princess, would fall in love with.

The Princess told him her story and the Prince told her they would go at once to her father and he would ask for her hand, for he had already asked for her heart and found that it was his.

The enchanted boat took them back to the garden of the King, where they found that the Queen, when she knew that her son had lost the chance of becoming King when the Princess disappeared, had put the King in a dungeon under the palace and she and her son had become the rulers of the kingdom.

The Prince quickly undid all this mischief by setting the King free, and when he found out how treacherous his Queen really was he sent her, with her son, away from the palace and told them never to return or they would both be put in prison.

He was a kind-hearted King and gave them gold to care for them the rest of their days, and it did not take them long to leave the palace, you may be sure, for already the wedding feast was being made ready for the marriage of the Princess and her Prince.

The enchanted boat now was not needed, and that with the lake disappeared, but when the Princess set out with her husband to go to the castle she found that it was within her father’s kingdom that the Prince had lived.

At the end of the castle garden where the Prince and the Princess live is a long stone seat, and at one end grows a bush of golden flowers, the like of which no one ever saw before, and at the other is the figure of a big eagle made of gold and bronze, but only the Princess and her husband know what these things mean.

NICKO AND THE OGRE

Once upon a time there lived on the banks of a deep, wide river an ogre who ate all the fish in the river, never letting the people who lived in the town come near the river to fish.

And this was not all the ogre did. He would make such a noise when he slept that all the children were frightened so they could not sleep at night, and the people decided at last that something must be done.

One day a youth named Nicko said he would go to an old witch who lived in the forest and ask her what could be done.

So to this witch the youth went. “There is only one way to get rid of the ogre,” she told Nicko, “and that secret is known only to a mermaid, who comes up from the river every night and sings to the ogre.”

Of course the ogre would see Nicko if he went to the mermaid when she was singing, so he decided to have a suit made of green and silver that would make him look like a huge fish and dive into the river, hoping in that way to find the home of the mermaid and learn the secret she knew.

One night after the mermaid had finished her song to the ogre, Nicko slipped from behind a rock where he was hidden, dressed in his green-and-silver suit, and swam to the place he had seen the mermaid go under the water.

Down, down he went, and just before he reached the bottom of the river the mermaid turned around and saw him.

She had never seen such a beautiful big fish before and the silver glistened and shone so in the moonlight that the mermaid was filled with envy.

“Oh, beautiful fish, tell me where you got your shining coat! I must have a dress like it at once,” she said, swimming along beside Nicko.

“I will tell you, beautiful mermaid, willingly, and I will bring you a dress of wonderful brightness,” said Nicko, “if you will tell me how the people who live in the river town can get rid of the ogre you sing to every night.”

The mermaid no longer smiled when she heard this; her face looked sad and unhappy.

“That can never be done; for the way to be rid of the ogre is beyond my power, although I know the secret,” answered the mermaid; “but you cannot help me.”

“Well, if I cannot help you, at least tell me how it could be brought about that the river folk could be rid of their trouble.”

“A mortal must come to this river and live here,” said the mermaid. “And he must marry me. Now you see how impossible it is for any one to learn the rest of the secret, for who would marry a mermaid and live at the bottom of the river?”

Nicko had fallen in love with the pretty mermaid at first sight, and when he heard this he said: “Show me your home, pretty maid. Perhaps I can help you, even if I am only a fish.”

To the very bottom of the river the mermaid took Nicko, and when they stood on the white sand before her home of crystal Nicko said:

“Mermaid, I love you! Behold your mortal lover. Will you be my wife?”

As he spoke he threw off the green-and-silver costume he wore, and there stood the mortal who had come to woo her.

The pretty little mermaid blushed and hung her head. “I did not know; I could never have guessed you were a mortal,” she stammered.

“Of course you couldn’t,” said Nicko, almost forgetting why he was there, he was so very much in love with the pretty creature. “Now where shall I find your father?” he asked.

The little mermaid clapped her tiny hands, and from under the rock came many little silver-colored fish, swimming all around her.

“Run quickly and tell the dolphin to find Father Neptune,” said the mermaid.

Soon the water began to roll and tumble about, and Nicko saw swimming toward them two sea-horses drawing a chariot in which stood a man carrying in one hand a curious and big three-pronged fork.

“He is Father Neptune,” said the mermaid. “Ask him for me if you wish.”

“Well, young mortal, what do you wish here at the bottom of my river?” asked Father Neptune.

At first Nicko did not know what to say, for Father Neptune was very big and stern-looking; but when he saw the little mermaid swim up to him and lean her head against his shoulder he took courage and spoke.

“I wish to marry your daughter,” he said, “and live at the bottom of the river.”

Father Neptune began to smile. “The spell is broken for you, my dear,” he said to the little mermaid, “and I am glad. I would have helped you before this if I could, but it was not in my power.

“She is yours, mortal youth,” said Neptune. “I pronounce you man and wife. And now we will see what can be done to get rid of that awful ogre on the bank of the river. He has bothered me so much, I shall be glad to have him gone.”

“Now we are married,” said the mermaid to Nicko, “I can tell you I am not a mermaid at all, but a king’s daughter who was changed into a mermaid to sing for the ogre because my father did not invite the dreadful ogre to a feast at his palace one night.

“The ogre cast a spell over me which could be broken only when a mortal should come to the bottom of the river and ask me to marry him, which the ogre thought never could happen.

“Now it is my turn to have the ogre changed into another form, and if Father Neptune will consent I will ask the old forest witch to change him into a big rock in the middle of the river.”

“Very well, my dear,” said Father Neptune, “a big rock will be an addition to my river, and when I run in here to rest my sea-horses will have a place to play and my dolphins a place to sit.”

“Good-by, Father Neptune,” said the mermaid. “I shall no longer wear this form after to-night, for when I touch the land I shall be a mortal again.”

“I will take you to the shore,” said Father Neptune; “jump in, both of you.” It took only a minute for the sea-horses to dash to the top of the river, and another for them to bring the chariot to the bank of the river near the forest.

Nicko jumped out and lifted the little mermaid to the ground, which she no sooner touched than before him stood a beautiful young girl on two dainty feet.

When he looked around Father Neptune was gone and the Princess (for we must call her so now) said: “We must hurry to the witch and tell her before sunrise, or the ogre will have another day in which to bother the river-town people.”

When the old witch saw the Princess she began to laugh. “Ha-ha!” she said. “Now the ogre will be in my power. Leave him to me, my dear. I will change him into any shape you wish.”

The Princess told her she wished him changed into a huge rock to be placed in the middle of the river.

“Come along, my pretties; you shall see it done,” said the old witch, clapping her hands as she spoke.

Up from behind the cave jumped a big broomstick, and on it hopped the witch and the Princess and Nicko, and off they flew to the place where the ogre sat fishing by the river.

When they were near enough for the old witch to touch him with her crooked cane she leaned over and tapped him on the head and said:

“In the middle of the river,
To dwell there forever,
A rock you shall be
So all folks may see.”

A peal of thunder that shook the woods around was heard, and then a loud splash.

When the mist of the splashing water cleared Nicko and the Princess saw a huge black rock in the middle of the river, and the next thing they knew they were flying through the air with the old witch again.

“Here is your home, Princess,” said the witch at last. “They will be waiting for you and your husband, for I sent word you had been rescued, and a feast is being made in honor of your marriage.”

Before Nicko or his bride could thank the witch she was far above their heads and flying away.

The King and the Queen were overjoyed to have their daughter again and gave Nicko such a welcome that he quite forgot his home by the river and never returned.

But this did not matter, as he was an orphan, but no one thought of him as being the cause of the ogre’s disappearance. The people in the river town knew the ogre had gone, and they cared not who brought it about.

Nicko and the Princess lived happily ever after, and one day became the King and Queen in the country where they lived.

THE GINGERBREAD ROCK

Once there lived near a forest a little boy named Hans and his sister, whose name was Lisbeth.

Their parents had died when they were tiny and their uncle had taken them because he thought they could do all the work and so save the money he would have to pay for a servant.

But this uncle was a miser and gave Hans and Lisbeth very little to eat, so very little that often they went to bed very hungry.

One night when they were more hungry than usual, for they had worked hard all day, Hans whispered from his cot in one corner of the room: “Lisbeth, let us get up and go into the woods. It is bright moonlight and we may be able to find some berries. I am so hungry I cannot go to sleep.”

So out of the house they went, making sure their uncle was sound asleep, and soon they were running along the path through the woods.

Suddenly Hans stopped and drew Lisbeth back of a tree. “Look!” he said, in a whisper, “there is smoke coming from the side of that great rock.”

Lisbeth looked and, sure enough, a tiny curling smoke was coming from a little opening in the rock.

Very cautiously the children crept up to the rock and Hans stood on tiptoe and sniffed at the smoke.

“It is a pipe,” he whispered into Lisbeth’s ear. “Some one is inside the rock, smoking.”

“No one could live inside a rock,” said Lisbeth, creeping closer and standing on a stone that she, too, might sniff at the curling smoke.

Lisbeth became curious when she discovered it was the smoke from a pipe. “You could boost me, Hans,” she said, “and I could peep in and see if some one is inside.”

Hans told her he did not think it was nice to peek, but Lisbeth told him it was very different from peeking into a house, and so Hans boosted her, for he was just as curious as his sister.

Lisbeth grasped the edge of the opening in the big rock with both her little hands, when, to the surprise of both children, it crumbled and Lisbeth lost her balance.

Over went both of them on the soft moss, and when they sat up Lisbeth held something in both her little hands.

“It’s cake!” she said, with wide open eyes. “No; it is gingerbread!” she corrected, as she tasted it.

And, sure enough, it was gingerbread; the rock, instead of being stone, was all gingerbread.

Hans and Lisbeth forgot the smoke and their curiosity in the joy of their discovery, and soon both of them were eating as fast as they could big pieces of the Gingerbread Rock.

Hans and Lisbeth were not greedy children. So when they had satisfied their hunger they ran off home without taking even a piece of the gingerbread with them to eat the next day.

They were soon in bed and asleep, and if each had not told to the other the same story the next morning they would have been sure they had dreamed it all.

The next night they were hungry, as usual, and when the moon was well up in the sky out they crept again and ran into the woods.

But this time there was no curling smoke to guide them, and they tried several rocks before they found the gingerbread. For, strange to say, the place they had broken away did not show at all and there were so many rocks the children could not find it.

But at last Hans cried out with joy, “Here it is, Lisbeth!” and held up a big piece of gingerbread he had broken off.

Lisbeth, in her hurry to get a piece, broke off much more than she intended, and, to the surprise of both children, a big opening was made, large enough for them to step through.

“Perhaps we may find out where the smoke came from,” said Lisbeth, suddenly remembering the smoke they had seen the night before.

Eating as they went, both of them stepped inside the rock and walked into a big room where, by the table, sat an old man asleep.

His glasses had tumbled off his nose and the pipe he had been smoking was on the floor beside him, where it had tumbled. His lamp had gone out and his paper had slipped from his hand.

Lisbeth and Hans looked at him and then at the gingerbread they held. “It is his house,” said Hans.

“And we are eating it up! What shall we do?” asked Lisbeth, looking very much frightened.

“Better wake him up and tell him,” said Hans, “and perhaps he will let us bake some more and mend the place we have broken.”

“I’ll pick up his paper and pipe and brush up the ashes,” said tidy little Lisbeth, “and you light his lamp, and perhaps he will forgive us when we tell him we did not know it was his house we were eating.”

But instead of being cross when he awoke, the old man smiled at them and asked, “Did you eat all you wanted of the gingerbread?”

Hans told him they were very sorry and that they did not know any one lived inside when they ate the gingerbread.

“We will bake you some more and patch the place we made,” said Lisbeth.

“Right through that door you will find the kitchen,” said the old man. “Run along, if you like, and bake it.”

And such a kitchen as Hans and Lisbeth found, for Hans went along, you may be sure, to fix the fire for his sister!

The shelves and cupboards were filled with flour and butter and eggs and milk and cream and meat and pies, cookies, puddings, but no gingerbread.

“We will get breakfast first for the man,” said Lisbeth, “for I am sure he must be hungry and it is growing light. Look out the window.”

To Hans’s surprise there was a window. Then he saw a door, and when he looked out he found they were in a pretty white house with green blinds and not a rock, as he had supposed.