The Crimson Fairy Book

Part 1 out of 6








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The Crimson Fairy Book

Edited by

Andrew Lang



Preface

Each Fairy Book demands a preface from the Editor, and these
introductions are inevitably both monotonous and unavailing. A
sense of literary honesty compels the Editor to keep repeating that
he is the Editor, and not the author of the Fairy Tales, just as a
distinguished man of science is only the Editor, not the Author of
Nature. Like nature, popular tales are too vast to be the creation of
a single modern mind. The Editor's business is to hunt for
collections of these stories told by peasant or savage grandmothers
in many climes, from New Caledonia to Zululand; from the frozen
snows of the Polar regions to Greece, or Spain, or Italy, or far
Lochaber. When the tales are found they are adapted to the needs
of British children by various hands, the Editor doing little beyond
guarding the interests of propriety, and toning down to mild
reproofs the tortures inflicted on wicked stepmothers, and other
naughty characters.

These explanations have frequently been offered already; but, as far
as ladies and children are concerned, to no purpose. They still ask
the Editor how he can invent so many stories--more than
Shakespeare, Dumas, and Charles Dickens could have invented in a
century. And the Editor still avers, in Prefaces, that he did not
invent one of the stories; that nobody knows, as a rule, who
invented them, or where, or when. It is only plain that, perhaps a
hundred thousand years ago, some savage grandmother told a tale
to a savage granddaughter; that the granddaughter told it in her
turn; that various tellers made changes to suit their taste, adding or
omitting features and incidents; that, as the world grew civilised,
other alterations were made, and that, at last, Homer composed the
'Odyssey,' and somebody else composed the Story of Jason and the
Fleece of Gold, and the enchantress Medea, out of a set of
wandering popular tales, which are still told among Samoyeds and
Samoans, Hindoos and Japanese.

All this has been known to the wise and learned for centuries, and
especially since the brothers Grimm wrote in the early years of the
Nineteenth Century. But children remain unaware of the facts, and
so do their dear mothers; whence the Editor infers that they do not
read his prefaces, and are not members of the FolkLore Society, or
students of Herr Kohler and M. Cosquin, and M. Henri Guidoz and
Professor Child, and Mr. Max Muller. Though these explanations
are not attended to by the Editor's customers, he makes them once
more, for the relief of his conscience. Many tales in this book are
translated, or adapted, from those told by mothers and nurses in
Hungary; others are familiar to Russian nurseries; the Servians are
responsible for some; a rather peculiarly fanciful set of stories are
adapted from the Roumanians; others are from the Baltic shores;
others from sunny Sicily; a few are from Finland, and Iceland, and
Japan, and Tunis, and Portugal. No doubt many children will like to
look out these places on the map, and study their mountains, rivers,
soil, products, and fiscal policies, in the geography books. The
peoples who tell the stories differ in colour; language, religion, and
almost everything else; but they all love a nursery tale. The stories
have mainly been adapted or translated by Mrs. Lang, a few by
Miss Lang and Miss Blackley.



Contents

Lovely Ilonka
Lucky Luck
The Hairy Man
To your Good Health!
The Story of the Seven Simons
The Language of Beasts
The Boy who could keep a Secret
The Prince and the Dragon
Little Wildrose
Tiidu the Piper
Paperarello
The Gifts of the Magician
The Strong Prince
The Treasure Seeker
The Cottager and his Cat
The Prince who would seek Immortality
The Stone-cutter
The Gold-bearded Man
Tritill, Litill, and the Birds
The Three Robes
The Six Hungry Beasts
How the Beggar Boy turned into Count Piro
The Rogue and the Herdsman
Eisenkopf
The Death of Abu Nowas and of his Wife
Motikatika
Niels and the Giants
Shepherd Paul
How the wicked Tanuki was punished
The Crab and the Monkey
The Horse Gullfaxi and the Sword Gunnfoder
The Story of the Sham Prince, or the Ambitious Tailor
The Colony of Cats
How to find out a True Friend
Clever Maria
The Magic Kettle



Lovely Ilonka

There was once a king's son who told his father that he wished to
marry.

'No, no!' said the king; 'you must not be in such a hurry. Wait till
you have done some great deed. My father did not let me marry till
I had won the golden sword you see me wear.'

The prince was much disappointed, but he never dreamed of
disobeying his father, and he began to think with all his might what
he could do. It was no use staying at home, so one day he
wandered out into the world to try his luck, and as he walked along
he came to a little hut in which he found an old woman crouching
over the fire.

'Good evening, mother. I see you have lived long in this world; do
you know anything about the three bulrushes?'

'Yes, indeed, I've lived long and been much about in the world, but
I have never seen or heard anything of what you ask. Still, if you
will wait till to-morrow I may be able to tell you something.'

Well, he waited till the morning, and quite early the old woman
appeared and took out a little pipe and blew in it, and in a moment
all the crows in the world were flying about her. Not one was
missing. Then she asked if they knew anything about the three
bulrushes, but not one of them did.

The prince went on his way, and a little further on he found another
hut in which lived an old man. On being questioned the old man
said he knew nothing, but begged the prince to stay overnight, and
the next morning the old man called all the ravens together, but
they too had nothing to tell.

The prince bade him farewell and set out. He wandered so far that
he crossed seven kingdoms, and at last, one evening, he came to a
little house in which was an old woman.

'Good evening, dear mother,' said he politely.

'Good evening to you, my dear son,' answered the old woman. 'It
is lucky for you that you spoke to me or you would have met with a
horrible death. But may I ask where are you going?'

'I am seeking the three bulrushes. Do you know anything about
them?'

'I don't know anything myself, but wait till to-morrow. Perhaps I
can tell you then.' So the next morning she blew on her pipe, and lo!
and behold every magpie in the world flew up. That is to say, all
the magpies except one who had broken a leg and a wing. The old
woman sent after it at once, and when she questioned the magpies
the crippled one was the only one who knew where the three
bulrushes were.

Then the prince started off with the lame magpie. They went on
and on till they reached a great stone wall, many, many feet high.

'Now, prince,' said the magpie, 'the three bulrushes are behind that
wall.'

The prince wasted no time. He set his horse at the wall and leaped
over it. Then he looked about for the three bulrushes, pulled them
up and set off with them on his way home. As he rode along one of
the bulrushes happened to knock against something. It split open
and, only think! out sprang a lovely girl, who said: 'My heart's love,
you are mine and I am yours; do give me a glass of water.'

But how could the prince give it her when there was no water at
hand? So the lovely maiden flew away. He split the second bulrush
as an experiment and just the same thing happened.

How careful he was of the third bulrush! He waited till he came to a
well, and there he split it open, and out sprang a maiden seven times
lovelier than either of the others, and she too said: 'My heart's love,
I am yours and you are mine; do give me a glass of water.'

This time the water was ready and the girl did not fly away, but she
and the prince promised to love each other always. Then they set
out for home.

They soon reached the prince's country, and as he wished to bring
his promised bride back in a fine coach he went on to the town to
fetch one. In the field where the well was, the king's swineherds
and cowherds were feeding their droves, and the prince left Ilonka
(for that was her name) in their care.

Unluckily the chief swineherd had an ugly old daughter, and whilst
the prince was away he dressed her up in fine clothes, and threw
Ilonka into the well.

The prince returned before long, bringing with him his father and
mother and a great train of courtiers to escort Ilonka home. But
how they all stared when they saw the swineherd's ugly daughter!
However, there was nothing for it but to take her home; and, two
days later, the prince married her, and his father gave up the crown
to him.

But he had no peace! He knew very well he had been cheated,
though he could not think how. Once he desired to have some
water brought him from the well into which Ilonka had been
thrown. The coachman went for it and, in the bucket he pulled up,
a pretty little duck was swimming. He looked wonderingly at it,
and all of a sudden it disappeared and he found a dirty looking girl
standing near him. The girl returned with him and managed to get a
place as housemaid in the palace.

Of course she was very busy all day long, but whenever she had a
little spare time she sat down to spin. Her distaff turned of itself
and her spindle span by itself and the flax wound itself off; and
however much she might use there was always plenty left.

When the queen--or, rather, the swineherd's daughter--heard of
this, she very much wished to have the distaff, but the girl flatly
refused to give it to her. However, at last she consented on
condition that she might sleep one night in the king's room. The
queen was very angry, and scolded her well; but as she longed to
have the distaff she consented, though she gave the king a sleeping
draught at supper.

Then the girl went to the king's room looking seven times lovelier
than ever. She bent over the sleeper and said: 'My heart's love, I
am yours and you are mine. Speak to me but once; I am your
Ilonka.' But the king was so sound asleep he neither heard nor
spoke, and Ilonka left the room, sadly thinking he was ashamed to
own her.

Soon after the queen again sent to say that she wanted to buy the
spindle. The girl agreed to let her have it on the same conditions as
before; but this time, also, the queen took care to give the king a
sleeping draught. And once more Ilonka went to the king's room
and spoke to him; whisper as sweetly as she might she could get no
answer.

Now some of the king's servants had taken note of the matter, and
warned their master not to eat and drink anything that the queen
offered him, as for two nights running she had given him a sleeping
draught. The queen had no idea that her doings had been
discovered; and when, a few days later, she wanted the flax, and
had to pay the same price for it, she felt no fears at all.

At supper that night the queen offered the king all sorts of nice
things to eat and drink, but he declared he was not hungry, and
went early to bed.

The queen repented bitterly her promise to the girl, but it was too
late to recall it; for Ilonka had already entered the king's room,
where he lay anxiously waiting for something, he knew not what.
All of a sudden he saw a lovely maiden who bent over him and said:
'My dearest love, I am yours and you are mine. Speak to me, for I
am your Ilonka.'

At these words the king's heart bounded within him. He sprang up
and embraced and kissed her, and she told him all her adventures
since the moment he had left her. And when he heard all that
Ilonka had suffered, and how he had been deceived, he vowed he
would be revenged; so he gave orders that the swineherd, his wife
and daughter should all be hanged; and so they were.

The next day the king was married, with great rejoicings, to the fair
Ilonka; and if they are not yet dead--why, they are still living.

[From Ungarische Mahrehen.]



Lucky Luck

Once upon a time there was a king who had an only son. When the
lad was about eighteen years old his father had to go to fight in a
war against a neighbouring country, and the king led his troops in
person. He bade his son act as Regent in his absence, but ordered
him on no account to marry till his return.

Time went by. The prince ruled the country and never even thought
of marrying. But when he reached his twenty-fifth birthday he
began to think that it might be rather nice to have a wife, and he
thought so much that at last he got quite eager about it. He
remembered, however, what his father had said, and waited some
time longer, till at last it was ten years since the king went out to
war. Then the prince called his courtiers about him and set off with
a great retinue to seek a bride. He hardly knew which way to go, so
he wandered about for twenty days, when, suddenly, he found
himself in his father's camp.

The king was delighted to see his son, and had a great many
questions to ask and answer; but when he heard that instead of
quietly waiting for him at home the prince was starting off to seek a
wife he was very angry, and said: 'You may go where you please
but I will not leave any of my people with you.'

Only one faithful servant stayed with the prince and refused to part
from him. They journeyed over hill and dale till they came to a
place called Goldtown. The King of Goldtown had a lovely
daughter, and the prince, who soon heard about her beauty, could
not rest till he saw her.

He was very kindly received, for he was extremely good-looking
and had charming manners, so he lost no time in asking for her hand
and her parents gave her to him with joy. The wedding took place
at once, and the feasting and rejoicings went on for a whole month.
At the end of the month they set off for home, but as the journey
was a long one they spent the first evening at an inn. Everyone in
the house slept, and only the faithful servant kept watch. About
midnight he heard three crows, who had flown to the roof, talking
together.

'That's a handsome couple which arrived here tonight. It seems
quite a pity they should lose their lives so soon.'

'Truly,' said the second crow; 'for to-morrow, when midday
strikes, the bridge over the Gold Stream will break just as they are
driving over it. But, listen! whoever overhears and tells what we
have said will be turned to stone up to his knees.'

The crows had hardly done speaking when away they flew. And
close upon them followed three pigeons.

'Even if the prince and princess get safe over the bridge they will
perish,' said they; 'for the king is going to send a carriage to meet
them which looks as new as paint. But when they are seated in it a
raging wind will rise and whirl the carriage away into the clouds.
Then it will fall suddenly to earth, and they will be killed. But
anyone who hears and betrays what we have said will be turned to
stone up to his waist.'

With that the pigeons flew off and three eagles took their places,
and this is what they said:

'If the young couple does manage to escape the dangers of the
bridge and the carriage, the king means to send them each a
splendid gold embroidered robe. When they put these on they will
be burnt up at once. But whoever hears and repeats this will turn to
stone from head to foot.'

Early next morning the travellers got up and breakfasted. They
began to tell each other their dreams. At last the servant said:

'Gracious prince, I dreamt that if your Royal Highness would grant
all I asked we should get home safe and sound; but if you did not
we should certainly be lost. My dreams never deceive me, so I
entreat you to follow my advice during the rest of the journey.'

'Don't make such a fuss about a dream,' said the prince; 'dreams are
but clouds. Still, to prevent your being anxious I will promise to do
as you wish.'

With that they set out on their journey.

At midday they reached the Gold Stream. When they got to the
bridge the servant said: 'Let us leave the carriage here, my prince,
and walk a little way. The town is not far off and we can easily get
another carriage there, for the wheels of this one are bad and will
not hold out much longer.'

The prince looked well at the carriage. He did not think it looked so
unsafe as his servant said; but he had given his word and he held to
it.

They got down and loaded the horses with the luggage. The prince
and his bride walked over the bridge, but the servant said he would
ride the horses through the stream so as to water and bathe them.

They reached the other side without harm, and bought a new
carriage in the town, which was quite near, and set off once more
on their travels; but they had not gone far when they met a
messenger from the king who said to the prince: 'His Majesty has
sent your Royal Highness this beautiful carriage so that you may
make a fitting entry into your own country and amongst your own
people.'

The prince was so delighted that he could not speak. But the
servant said: 'My lord, let me examine this carriage first and then
you can get in if I find it is all right; otherwise we had better stay in
our own.'

The prince made no objections, and after looking the carriage well
over the servant said: 'It is as bad as it is smart'; and with that he
knocked it all to pieces, and they went on in the one that they had
bought.

At last they reached the frontier; there another messenger was
waiting for them, who said that the king had sent two splendid
robes for the prince and his bride, and begged that they would wear
them for their state entry. But the servant implored the prince to
have nothing to do with them, and never gave him any peace till he
had obtained leave to destroy the robes.

The old king was furious when he found that all his arts had failed;
that his son still lived and that he would have to give up the crown
to him now he was married, for that was the law of the land. He
longed to know how the prince had escaped, and said: 'My dear
son, I do indeed rejoice to have you safely back, but I cannot
imagine why the beautiful carriage and the splendid robes I sent did
not please you; why you had them destroyed.'

'Indeed, sire,' said the prince, 'I was myself much annoyed at their
destruction; but my servant had begged to direct everything on the
journey and I had promised him that he should do so. He declared
that we could not possibly get home safely unless I did as he told
me.'

The old king fell into a tremendous rage. He called his Council
together and condemned the servant to death.

The gallows was put up in the square in front of the palace. The
servant was led out and his sentence read to him.

The rope was being placed round his neck, when he begged to be
allowed a few last words. 'On our journey home,' he said, 'we spent
the first night at an inn. I did not sleep but kept watch all night.'
And then he went on to tell what the crows had said, and as he
spoke he turned to stone up to his knees. The prince called to him
to say no more as he had proved his innocence. But the servant paid
no heed to him, and by the time his story was done he had turned to
stone from head to foot.

Oh! how grieved the prince was to lose his faithful servant! And
what pained him most was the thought that he was lost through his
very faithfulness, and he determined to travel all over the world and
never rest till he found some means of restoring him to life.

Now there lived at Court an old woman who had been the prince's
nurse. To her he confided all his plans, and left his wife, the
princess, in her care. 'You have a long way before you, my son,'
said the old woman; 'you must never return till you have met with
Lucky Luck. If he cannot help you no one on earth can.'

So the prince set off to try to find Lucky Luck. He walked and
walked till he got beyond his own country, and he wandered
through a wood for three days but did not meet a living being in it.
At the end of the third day he came to a river near which stood a
large mill. Here he spent the night. When he was leaving next
morning the miller asked him: 'My gracious lord, where are you
going all alone?'

And the prince told him.

'Then I beg your Highness to ask Lucky Luck this question: Why is
it that though I have an excellent mill, with all its machinery
complete, and get plenty of grain to grind, I am so poor that I
hardly know how to live from one day to another?'

The prince promised to inquire, and went on his way. He wandered
about for three days more, and at the end of the third day saw a
little town. It was quite late when he reached it, but he could
discover no light anywhere, and walked almost right through it
without finding a house where he could turn in. But far away at the
end of the town he saw a light in a window. He went straight to it
and in the house were three girls playing a game together. The
prince asked for a night's lodging and they took him in, gave him
some supper and got a room ready for him, where he slept.

Next morning when he was leaving they asked where he was going
and he told them his story. 'Gracious prince,' said the maidens, 'do
ask Lucky Luck how it happens that here we are over thirty years
old and no lover has come to woo us, though we are good, pretty,
and very industrious.'

The prince promised to inquire, and went on his way.

Then he came to a great forest and wandered about in it from
morning to night and from night to morning before he got near the
other end. Here he found a pretty stream which was different from
other streams as, instead of flowing, it stood still and began to talk:
'Sir prince, tell me what brings you into these wilds? I must have
been flowing here a hundred years and more and no one has ever
yet come by.'

'I will tell you,' answered the prince, 'if you will divide yourself so
that I may walk through.'

The stream parted at once, and the prince walked through without
wetting his feet; and directly he got to the other side he told his
story as he had promised.

'Oh, do ask Lucky Luck,' cried the brook, 'why, though I am such a
clear, bright, rapid stream I never have a fish or any other living
creature in my waters.'

The prince said he would do so, and continued his journey.

When he got quite clear of the forest he walked on through a lovely
valley till he reached a little house thatched with rushes, and he
went in to rest for he was very tired.

Everything in the house was beautifully clean and tidy, and a
cheerful honest-looking old woman was sitting by the fire.

'Good-morning, mother,' said the prince.

'May Luck be with you, my son. What brings you into these parts?'

'I am looking for Lucky Luck,' replied the prince.

'Then you have come to the right place, my son, for I am his
mother. He is not at home just now, he is out digging in the
vineyard. Do you go too. Here are two spades. When you find him
begin to dig, but don't speak a word to him. It is now eleven
o'clock. When he sits down to eat his dinner sit beside him and eat
with him. After dinner he will question you, and then tell him all
your troubles freely. He will answer whatever you may ask.'

With that she showed him the way, and the prince went and did just
as she had told him. After dinner they lay down to rest.

All of a sudden Lucky Luck began to speak and said: 'Tell me, what
sort of man are you, for since you came here you have not spoken a
word?'

'I am not dumb,' replied the young man, 'but I am that unhappy
prince whose faithful servant has been turned to stone, and I want
to know how to help him.'

'And you do well, for he deserves everything. Go back, and when
you get home your wife will just have had a little boy. Take three
drops of blood from the child's little finger, rub them on your
servant's wrists with a blade of grass and he will return to life.'

'I have another thing to ask,' said the prince, when he had thanked
him. 'In the forest near here is a fine stream but not a fish or other
living creature in it. Why is this?'

'Because no one has ever been drowned in the stream. But take
care, in crossing, to get as near the other side as you can before you
say so, or you may be the first victim yourself.'

'Another question, please, before I go. On my way here I lodged
one night in the house of three maidens. All were well-mannered,
hard-working, and pretty, and yet none has had a wooer. Why was
this?'

'Because they always throw out their sweepings in the face of the
sun.'

'And why is it that a miller, who has a large mill with all the best
machinery and gets plenty of corn to grind is so poor that he can
hardly live from day to day?'

'Because the miller keeps everything for himself, and does not give
to those who need it.'

The prince wrote down the answers to his questions, took a friendly
leave of Lucky Luck, and set off for home.

When he reached the stream it asked if he brought it any good
news. 'When I get across I will tell you,' said he. So the stream
parted; he walked through and on to the highest part of the bank.
He stopped and shouted out:

'Listen, oh stream! Lucky Luck says you will never have any living
creature in your waters until someone is drowned in you.'

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the stream swelled
and overflowed till it reached the rock up which he had climbed,
and dashed so far up it that the spray flew over him. But he clung
on tight, and after failing to reach him three times the stream
returned to its proper course. Then the prince climbed down, dried
himself in the sun, and set out on his march home.

He spent the night once more at the mill and gave the miller his
answer, and by-and-by he told the three sisters not to throw out all
their sweepings in the face of the sun.

The prince had hardly arrived at home when some thieves tried to
ford the stream with a fine horse they had stolen. When they were
half-way across, the stream rose so suddenly that it swept them all
away. From that time it became the best fishing stream in the
country-side.

The miller, too, began to give alms and became a very good man,
and in time grew so rich that he hardly knew how much he had.

And the three sisters, now that they no longer insulted the sun, had
each a wooer within a week.

When the prince got home he found that his wife had just got a fine
little boy. He did not lose a moment in pricking the baby's finger till
the blood ran, and he brushed it on the wrists of the stone figure,
which shuddered all over and split with a loud noise in seven parts
and there was the faithful servant alive and well.

When the old king saw this he foamed with rage, stared wildly
about, flung himself on the ground and died.

The servant stayed on with his royal master and served him
faithfully all the rest of his life; and, if neither of them is dead, he is
serving him still.

[From Ungarische Mahrchen.]



The Hairy Man

Somewhere or other, but I don't know where, there lived a king
who owned two remarkably fine fields of rape, but every night two
of the rape heaps were burnt down in one of the fields. The king
was extremely angry at this, and sent out soldiers to catch whoever
had set fire to the ricks; but it was all of no use--not a soul could
they see. Then he offered nine hundred crowns to anyone who
caught the evil-doer, and at the same time ordered that whoever did
not keep proper watch over the fields should be killed; but though
there were a great many people, none seemed able to protect the
fields.

The king had already put ninety-nine people to death, when a little
swineherd came to him who had two dogs; one was called 'Psst,'
and the other 'Hush'; and the boy told the king that he would watch
over the ricks.

When it grew dark he climbed up on the top of the fourth rick, from
where he could see the whole field. About eleven o'clock he
thought he saw someone going to a rick and putting a light to it.
'Just you wait,' thought he, and called out to his dogs: 'Hi! Psst,
Hush, catch him! ' But Psst and Hush had not waited for orders,
and in five minutes the man was caught.

Next morning he was brought bound before the king, who was so
pleased with the boy that he gave him a thousand crowns at once.
The prisoner was all covered with hair, almost like an animal; and
altogether he was so curious to look at that the king locked him up
in a strong room and sent out letters of invitation to all the other
kings and princes asking them to come and see this wonder.

That was all very well; but the king had a little boy of ten years old
who went to look at the hairy man also, and the man begged so
hard to be set free that the boy took pity on him. He stole the key
of the strong room from his mother and opened the door. Then he
took the key back, but the hairy man escaped and went off into the
world.

Then the kings and princes began to arrive one after another, and all
were most anxious to see the hairy man; but he was gone! The king
nearly burst with rage and with the shame he felt. He questioned
his wife sharply, and told her that if she could not find and bring
back the hairy man he would put her in a hut made of rushes and
burn her there. The queen declared she had had nothing to do with
the matter; if her son had happened to take the key it had not been
with her knowledge.

So they fetched the little prince and asked him all sorts of questions,
and at last he owned that he had let the hairy man out. The king
ordered his servants to take the boy into the forest and to kill him
there, and to bring back part of his liver and lungs.

There was grief all over the palace when the king's command was
known, for he was a great favourite. But there was no help for it,
and they took the boy out into the forest. But the man was sorry
for him, and shot a dog and carried pieces of his lungs and liver to
the king, who was satisfied, and did not trouble himself any more.

The prince wandered about in the forest and lived as best he could
for five years. One day he came upon a poor little cottage in which
was an old man. They began to talk, and the prince told his story
and sad fate. Then they recognised each other, for the old fellow
was no other than the hairy man whom the prince had set free, and
who had lived ever since in the forest.

The prince stayed here for two years; then he wished to go further.
The old man begged him hard to stay, but he would not, so his
hairy friend gave him a golden apple out of which came a horse
with a golden mane, and a golden staff with which to guide the
horse. The old man also gave him a silver apple out of which came
the most beautiful hussars and a silver staff; and a copper apple
from which he could draw as many foot soldiers as ever he wished,
and a copper staff. He made the prince swear solemnly to take the
greatest care of these presents, and then he let him go.

The boy wandered on and on till he came to a large town. Here he
took service in the king's palace, and as no one troubled themselves
about him he lived quietly on.

One day news was brought to the king that he must go out to war.
He was horribly frightened for he had a very small army, but he had
to go all the same.

When they had all left, the prince said to the housekeeper:

'Give me leave to go to the next village--I owe a small bill there,
and I want to go and pay it'; and as there was nothing to be done in
the palace the housekeeper gave him leave.

When he got beyond the town he took out his golden apple, and
when the horse sprang out he swung himself into the saddle. Then
he took the silver and the copper apples, and with all these fine
soldiers he joined the king's army.

The king saw them approach with fear in his heart, for he did not
know if it might not be an enemy; but the prince rode up, and
bowed low before him. 'I bring your Majesty reinforcements,' said
he.

The king was delighted, and all dread of his enemy at once
disappeared. The princesses were there too, and they were very
friendly with the prince and begged him to get into their carriage so
as to talk to them. But he declined, and remained on horseback, as
he did not know at what moment the battle might begin; and whilst
they were all talking together the youngest princess, who was also
the loveliest, took off her ring, and her sister tore her handkerchief
in two pieces, and they gave these gifts to the prince.

Suddenly the enemy came in sight. The king asked whether his
army or the prince's should lead the way; but the prince set off first
and with his hussars he fought so bravely that only two of the
enemy were left alive, and these two were only spared to act as
messengers.

The king was overjoyed and so were his daughters at this brilliant
victory. As they drove home they begged the prince to join them,
but he would not come, and galloped off with his hussars.

When he got near the town he packed his soldiers and his fine horse
all carefully into the apple again, and then strolled into the town.
On his return to the palace he was well scolded by the housekeeper
for staying away so long.

Well, the whole matter might have ended there; but it so happened
that the younger princess had fallen in love with the prince, as he
had with her. And as he had no jewels with him, he gave her the
copper apple and staff.

One day, as the princesses were talking with their father, the
younger one asked him whether it might not have been their servant
who had helped him so much. The king was quite angry at the idea;
but, to satisfy her, he ordered the servant's room to be searched.
And there, to everyone's surprise, they found the golden ring and
the half of the handkerchief. When these were brought to the king
he sent for the prince at once and asked if it had been he who had
come to their rescue.

'Yes, your Majesty, it was I,' answered the prince.

'But where did you get your army?'

'If you wish to see it, I can show it you outside the city walls.'

And so he did; but first he asked for the copper apple from the
younger princess, and when all the soldiers were drawn up there
were such numbers that there was barely room for them.

The king gave him his daughter and kingdom as a reward for his
aid, and when he heard that the prince was himself a king's son his
joy knew no bounds. The prince packed all his soldiers carefully
up once more, and they went back into the town.

Not long after there was a grand wedding; perhaps they may all be
alive still, but I don't know.



To Your Good Health!

Long, long ago there lived a king who was such a mighty monarch
that whenever he sneezed every one in the whole country had to say
'To your good health!' Every one said it except the shepherd with
the staring eyes, and he would not say it.

The king heard of this and was very angry, and sent for the
shepherd to appear before him.

The shepherd came and stood before the throne, where the king sat
looking very grand and powerful. But however grand or powerful
he might be the shepherd did not feel a bit afraid of him.

'Say at once, "To my good health!"' cried the king.

'To my good health!' replied the shepherd.

'To mine--to mine, you rascal, you vagabond!' stormed the king.

'To mine, to mine, your Majesty,' was the answer.

'But to mine--to my own,' roared the king, and beat on his breast in
a rage.

'Well, yes; to mine, of course, to my own,' cried the shepherd, and
gently tapped his breast.

The king was beside himself with fury and did not know what to
do, when the Lord Chamberlain interfered:

'Say at once--say this very moment: "To your health, your
Majesty"; for if you don't say it you'll lose your life, whispered he.

'No, I won't say it till I get the princess for my wife,' was the
shepherd's answer. Now the princess was sitting on a little throne
beside the king, her father, and she looked as sweet and lovely as a
little golden dove. When she heard what the shepherd said she
could not help laughing, for there is no denying the fact that this
young shepherd with the staring eyes pleased her very much; indeed
he pleased her better than any king's son she had yet seen.

But the king was not as pleasant as his daughter, and he gave
orders to throw the shepherd into the white bear's pit.

The guards led him away and thrust him into the pit with the white
bear, who had had nothing to eat for two days and was very
hungry. The door of the pit was hardly closed when the bear
rushed at the shepherd; but when it saw his eyes it was so
frightened that it was ready to eat itself. It shrank away into a
corner and gazed at him from there, and, in spite of being so
famished, did not dare to touch him, but sucked its own paws from
sheer hunger. The shepherd felt that if he once removed his eyes
off the beast he was a dead man, and in order to keep himself
awake he made songs and sang them, and so the night went by.

Next morning the Lord Chamberlain came to see the shepherd's
bones, and was amazed to find him alive and well. He led him to
the king, who fell into a furious passion, and said: 'Well, you have
learned what it is to be very near death, and now will you say "To
my good health"?'

But the shepherd answered: 'I am not afraid of ten deaths! I will
only say it if I may have the princess for my wife.'

'Then go to your death,' cried the king; and ordered him to be
thrown into the den with the wild boars. The wild boars had not
been fed for a week, and when the shepherd was thrust into their
don they rushed at him to tear him to pieces. But the shepherd
took a little flute out of the sleeve of his jacket and began to play a
merry tune, on which the wild boars first of all shrank shyly away,
and then got up on their hind legs and danced gaily. The shepherd
would have given anything to be able to laugh, they looked so
funny; but he dared not stop playing, for he knew well enough that
the moment he stopped they would fall upon him and tear him to
pieces. His eyes were of no use to him here, for he could not have
stared ten wild boars in the face at once; so he kept on playing, and
the wild boars danced very slowly, as if in a minuet, then by degrees
he played faster and faster till they could hardly twist and turn
quickly enough, and ended by all falling over each other in a heap,
quite exhausted and out of breath.

Then the shepherd ventured to laugh at last; and he laughed so long
and so loud that when the Lord Chamberlain came early in the
morning, expecting to find only his bones, the tears were still
running down his cheeks from laughter.

As soon as the king was dressed the shepherd was again brought
before him; but he was more angry than ever to think the wild boars
had not torn the man to bits, and he said: 'Well, you have learned
what it feels to be near ten deaths, now say "To my good health!"'

But the shepherd broke in with, 'I do not fear a hundred deaths, and
I will only say it if I may have the princess for my wife.'

'Then go to a hundred deaths!' roared the king, and ordered the
shepherd to be thrown down the deep vault of scythes.

The guards dragged him away to a dark dungeon, in the middle of
which was a deep well with sharp scythes all round it. At the
bottom of the well was a little light by which one could see if
anyone was thrown in whether he had fallen to the bottom.

When the shepherd was dragged to the dungeons he begged the
guards to leave him alone a little while that he might look down
into the pit of scythes; perhaps he might after all make up his mind
to say 'To your good health' to the king. So the guards left him
alone and he stuck up his long stick near the well, hung his cloak
round the stick and put his hat on the top. He also hung his
knapsack up inside the cloak so that it might seem to have some
body within it. When this was done he called out to the guards and
said that he had considered the matter but after all he could not
make up his mind to say what the king wished. The guards came
in, threw the hat and cloak, knapsack and stick all down the well
together, watched to see how they put out the light at the bottom
and came away, thinking that now there really was an end of the
shepherd. But he had hidden in a dark corner and was laughing to
himself all the time.

Quite early next morning came the Lord Chamberlain, carrying a
lamp and he nearly fell backwards with surprise when he saw the
shepherd alive and well. He brought him to the king, whose fury
was greater than ever, but who cried:

'Well, now you have been near a hundred deaths; will you say: "To
your good health"?'

But the shepherd only gave the same answer:

'I won't say it till the princess is my wife.'

'Perhaps after all you may do it for less,' said the king, who saw that
there was no chance of making away with the shepherd; and he
ordered the state coach to be got ready, then he made the shepherd
get in with him and sit beside him, and ordered the coachman to
drive to the silver wood. When they reached it he said: 'Do you see
this silver wood? Well, if you will say, "To your good health," I
will give it to you.'

The shepherd turned hot and cold by turns, but he still persisted:

'I will not say it till the princess is my wife.'

The king was much vexed; he drove further on till they came to a
splendid castle, all of gold, and then he said:

'Do you see this golden castle? Well, I will give you that too, the
silver wood and the golden castle, if only you will say that one thing
to me: "To your good health."'

The shepherd gaped and wondered and was quite dazzled, but he
still said:

'No; I will not say it till I have the princess for my wife.'

This time the king was overwhelmed with grief, and gave orders to
drive on to the diamond pond, and there he tried once more.

'Do you see this diamond pond? I will give you that too, the silver
wood and the golden castle and the diamond pond. You shall have
them all--all--if you will but say: "To your good health!"'

The shepherd had to shut his staring eyes tight not to be dazzled
with the brilliant pond, but still he said:

'No, no; I will not say it till I have the princess for my wife.'

Then the king saw that all his efforts were useless, and that he
might as well give in, so he said:

'Well, well, it's all the same to me--I will give you my daughter to
wife; but, then, you really and truly must say to me: "To your good
health."'

'Of course I'll say it; why should I not say it? It stands to reason
that I shall say it then.'

At this the king was more delighted than anyone could have
believed. He made it known all through the country that there were
to be great rejoicings, as the princess was going to be married. And
everyone rejoiced to think that the princess, who had refused so
many royal suitors, should have ended by falling in love with the
staring-eyed shepherd.

There was such a wedding as had never been seen. Everyone ate
and drank and danced. Even the sick were feasted, and quite tiny
new-born children had presents given them.

But the greatest merry-making was in the king's palace; there the
best bands played and the best food was cooked; a crowd of people
sat down to table, and all was fun and merry-making.

And when the groomsman, according to custom, brought in the
great boar's head on a big dish and placed it before the king so that
he might carve it and give everyone a share, the savoury smell was
so strong that the king began to sneeze with all his might.

'To your very good health,' cried the shepherd before anyone else,
and the king was so delighted that he did not regret having given
him his daughter.

In time, when the old king died, the shepherd succeeded him. He
made a very good king and never expected his people to wish him
well against their wills; but, all the same, everyone did wish him
well, for they all loved him.

[From Russische Mahrchen.]



The Story of the Seven Simons

Far, far away, beyond all sorts of countries, seas and rivers, there
stood a splendid city where lived King Archidej, who was as good
as he was rich and handsome. His great army was made up of men
ready to obey his slightest wish; he owned forty times forty cities,
and in each city he had ten palaces with silver doors, golden roofs,
and crystal windows. His council consisted of the twelve wisest
men in the country, whose long beards flowed down over their
breasts, each of whom was as learned as a whole college. This
council always told the king the exact truth.

Now the king had everything to make him happy, but he did not
enjoy anything because he could not find a bride to his mind.

One day, as he sat in his palace looking out to sea, a great ship
sailed into the harbour and several merchants came on shore. Said
the king to himself: 'These people have travelled far and beheld
many lands. I will ask them if they have seen any princess who is as
clever and as handsome as I am.'

So he ordered the merchants to be brought before him, and when
they came he said: 'You have travelled much and visited many
wonders. I wish to ask you a question, and I beg you to answer
truthfully.

'Have you anywhere seen or heard of the daughter of an emperor,
king, or a prince, who is as clever and as handsome as I am, and
who would be worthy to be my wife and the queen of my country?'

The merchants considered for some time. At last the eldest of them
said: 'I have heard that across many seas, in the Island of Busan,
there is a mighty king, whose daughter, the Princess Helena, is so
lovely that she can certainly not be plainer than your Majesty, and
so clever that the wisest greybeard cannot guess her riddles.'

'Is the island far off, and which is the way to it?'

'It is not near,' was the answer. 'The journey would take ten years,
and we do not know the way. And even if we did, what use would
that be? The princess is no bride for you.'

'How dare you say so?' cried the king angrily.

'Your Majesty must pardon us; but just think for a moment. Should
you send an envoy to the island he will take ten years to get there
and ten more to return--twenty years in all. Will not the princess
have grown old in that time and have lost all her beauty?'

The king reflected gravely. Then he thanked the merchants, gave
them leave to trade in his country without paying any duties, and
dismissed them.

After they were gone the king remained deep in thought. He felt
puzzled and anxious; so he decided to ride into the country to
distract his mind, and sent for his huntsmen and falconers. The
huntsmen blew their horns, the falconers took their hawks on their
wrists, and off they all set out across country till they came to a
green hedge. On the other side of the hedge stretched a great field
of maize as far as the eye could reach, and the yellow ears swayed
to and fro in the gentle breeze like a rippling sea of gold.

The king drew rein and admired the field. 'Upon my word,' said he,
'whoever dug and planted it must be good workmen. If all the
fields in my kingdom were as well cared for as this, there would be
more bread than my people could eat.' And he wished to know to
whom the field belonged.

Off rushed all his followers at once to do his bidding, and found a
nice, tidy farmhouse, in front of which sat seven peasants, lunching
on rye bread and drinking water. They wore red shirts bound with
gold braid, and were so much alike that one could hardly tell one
from another.

The messengers asked: 'Who owns this field of golden maize?' And
the seven brothers answered: 'The field is ours.'

'And who are you?'

'We are King Archidej's labourers.'

These answers were repeated to the king, who ordered the brothers
to be brought before him at once. On being asked who they were,
the eldest said, bowing low:

'We, King Archidej, are your labourers, children of one father and
mother, and we all have the same name, for each of us is called
Simon. Our father taught us to be true to our king, and to till the
ground, and to be kind to our neighbours. He also taught each of
us a different trade which he thought might be useful to us, and he
bade us not neglect our mother earth, which would be sure amply
to repay our labour.'

The king was pleased with the honest peasant, and said: 'You have
done well, good people, in planting your field, and now you have a
golden harvest. But I should like each of you to tell me what
special trades your father taught you.'

'My trade, O king!' said the first Simon, 'is not an easy one. If you
will give me some workmen and materials I will build you a great
white pillar that shall reach far above the clouds.'

'Very good,' replied the king. 'And you, Simon the second, what is
your trade?'

'Mine, your Majesty, needs no great cleverness. When my brother
has built the pillar I can mount it, and from the top, far above the
clouds, I can see what is happening: in every country under the sun.'

'Good,' said the king; 'and Simon the third?'

'My work is very simple, sire. You have many ships built by
learned men, with all sorts of new and clever improvements. If you
wish it I will build you quite a simple boat--one, two, three, and it's
done! But my plain little home-made ship is not grand enough for a
king. Where other ships take a year, mine makes the voyage in a
day, and where they would require ten years mine will do the
distance in a week.'

'Good,' said the king again; 'and what has Simon the fourth learnt?'

'My trade, O king, is really of no importance. Should my brother
build you a ship, then let me embark in it. If we should be pursued
by an enemy I can seize our boat by the prow and sink it to the
bottom of the sea. When the enemy has sailed off, I can draw it up
to the top again.'

'That is very clever of you,' answered the king; 'and what does
Simon the fifth do?'

'My work, your Majesty, is mere smith's work. Order me to build a
smithy and I will make you a cross-bow, but from which neither the
eagle in the sky nor the wild beast in the forest is safe. The bolt hits
whatever the eye sees.'

'That sounds very useful,' said the king. 'And now, Simon the sixth,
tell me your trade.'

'Sire, it is so simple I am almost ashamed to mention it. If my
brother hits any creature I catch it quicker than any dog can. If it
falls into the water I pick it up out of the greatest depths, and if it is
in a dark forest I can find it even at midnight.'

The king was much pleased with the trades and talk of the six
brothers, and said: 'Thank you, good people; your father did well
to teach you all these things. Now follow me to the town, as I want
to see what you can do. I need such people as you about me; but
when harvest time comes I will send you home with royal presents.'

The brothers bowed and said: 'As the king wills.' Suddenly the king
remembered that he had not questioned the seventh Simon, so he
turned to him and said: 'Why are you silent? What is your
handicraft?'

And the seventh Simon answered: 'I have no handicraft, O king; I
have learnt nothing. I could not manage it. And if I do know how
to do anything it is not what might properly be called a real trade--it
is rather a sort of performance; but it is one which no one--not the
king himself--must watch me doing, and I doubt whether this
performance of mine would please your Majesty.'

'Come, come,' cried the king; 'I will have no excuses, what is this
trade?'

'First, sire, give me your royal word that you will not kill me when I
have told you. Then you shall hear.'

'So be it, then; I give you my royal word.'

Then the seventh Simon stepped back a little, cleared his throat,
and said: 'My trade, King Archidej, is of such a kind that the man
who follows it in your kingdom generally loses his life and has no
hopes of pardon. There is only one thing I can do really well, and
that is--to steal, and to hide the smallest scrap of anything I have
stolen. Not the deepest vault, even if its lock were enchanted,
could prevent my stealing anything out of it that I wished to have.'

When the king heard this he fell into a passion. 'I will not pardon
you, you rascal,' he cried; 'I will shut you up in my deepest dungeon
on bread and water till you have forgotten such a trade. Indeed, it
would be better to put you to death at once, and I've a good mind
to do so.'

'Don't kill me, O king! I am really not as bad as you think. Why,
had I chosen, I could have robbed the royal treasury, have bribed
your judges to let me off, and built a white marble palace with what
was left. But though I know how to steal I don't do it. You
yourself asked me my trade. If you kill me you will break your
royal word.'

'Very well,' said the king, 'I will not kill you. I pardon you. But
from this hour you shall be shut up in a dark dungeon. Here,
guards! away with him to the prison. But you six Simons follow
me and be assured of my royal favour.'

So the six Simons followed the king. The seventh Simon was
seized by the guards, who put him in chains and threw him in prison
with only bread and water for food. Next day the king gave the
first Simon carpenters, masons, smiths and labourers, with great
stores of iron, mortar, and the like, and Simon began to build. And
he built his great white pillar far, far up into the clouds, as high as
the nearest stars; but the other stars were higher still.

Then the second Simon climbed up the pillar and saw and heard all
that was going on through the whole world. When he came down
he had all sorts of wonderful things to tell. How one king was
marching in battle against another, and which was likely to be the
victor. How, in another place, great rejoicings were going on,
while in a third people were dying of famine. In fact there was not
the smallest event going on over the earth that was hidden from
him.

Next the third Simon began. He stretched out his arms, once,
twice, thrice, and the wonder-ship was ready. At a sign from the
king it was launched, and floated proudly and safely like a bird on
the waves. Instead of ropes it had wires for rigging, and musicians
played on them with fiddle bows and made lovely music. As the
ship swam about, the fourth Simon seized the prow with his strong
hand, and in a moment it was gone--sunk to the bottom of the sea.
An hour passed, and then the ship floated again, drawn up by
Simon's left hand, while in his right he brought a gigantic fish from
the depth of the ocean for the royal table.

Whilst this was going on the fifth Simon had built his forge and
hammered out his iron, and when the king returned from the
harbour the magic cross-bow was made.

His Majesty went out into an open field at once, looked up into the
sky and saw, far, far away, an eagle flying up towards the sun and
looking like a little speck.

'Now,' said the king, 'if you can shoot that bird I will reward you.'

Simon only smiled; he lifted his cross-bow, took aim, fired, and the
eagle fell. As it was falling the sixth Simon ran with a dish, caught
the bird before it fell to earth and brought it to the king.

'Many thanks, my brave lads,' said the king; 'I see that each of you
is indeed a master of his trade. You shall be richly rewarded. But
now rest and have your dinner.'

The six Simons bowed and went to dinner. But they had hardly
begun before a messenger came to say that the king wanted to see
them. They obeyed at once and found him surrounded by all his
court and men of state.

'Listen, my good fellows,' cried the king, as soon as he saw them.
'Hear what my wise counsellors have thought of. As you, Simon
the second, can see the whole world from the top of the great pillar,
I want you to climb up and to see and hear. For I am told that, far
away, across many seas, is the great kingdom of the Island of
Busan, and that the daughter of the king is the beautiful Princess
Helena.'

Off ran the second Simon and clambered quickly up the pillar. He
gazed around, listened on all sides, and then slid down to report to
the king.

'Sire, I have obeyed your orders. Far away I saw the Island of
Busan. The king is a mighty monarch, but full of pride, harsh and
cruel. He sits on his throne and declares that no prince or king on
earth is good enough for his lovely daughter, that he will give her to
none, and that if any king asks for her hand he will declare war
against him and destroy his kingdom.'

'Has the king of Busan a great army?' asked King Archidej; 'is his
country far off?'

'As far as I could judge,' replied Simon, 'it would take you nearly
ten years in fair weather to sail there. But if the weather were
stormy we might say twelve. I saw the army being reviewed. It is
not so very large--a hundred thousand men at arms and a hundred
thousand knights. Besides these, he has a strong bodyguard and a
good many cross-bowmen. Altogether you may say another
hundred thousand, and there is a picked body of heroes who
reserve themselves for great occasions requiring particular courage.'

The king sat for some time lost in thought. At last he said to the
nobles and courtiers standing round: 'I am determined to marry the
Princess Helena, but how shall I do it?'

The nobles, courtiers and counsellors said nothing, but tried to hide
behind each other. Then the third Simon said:

'Pardon me, your Majesty, if I offer my advice. You wish to go to
the Island of Busan? What can be easier? In my ship you will get
there in a week instead of in ten years. But ask your council to
advise you what to do when you arrive--in one word, whether you
will win the princess peacefully or by war?'

But the wise men were as silent as ever.

The king frowned, and was about to say something sharp, when the
Court Fool pushed his way to the front and said: 'Dear me, what are
all you clever people so puzzled about? The matter is quite clear.
As it seems it will not take long to reach the island why not send
the seventh Simon? He will steal the fair maiden fast enough, and
then the king, her father, may consider how he is going to bring his
army over here--it will take him ten years to do it!---no less! What
do you think of my plan?'

'What do I think? Why, that your idea is capital, and you shall be
rewarded for it. Come, guards, hurry as fast as you can and bring
the seventh Simon before me.'

Not many minutes later, Simon the seventh stood before the king,
who explained to him what he wished done, and also that to steal
for the benefit of his king and country was by no means a wrong
thing, though it was very wrong to steal for his own advantage.

The youngest Simon, who looked very pale and hungry, only
nodded his head.

'Come,' said the king, 'tell me truly. Do you think you could steal
the Princess Helena?'

'Why should I not steal her, sire? The thing is easy enough. Let my
brother's ship be laden with rich stuffs, brocades, Persian carpets,
pearls and jewels. Send me in the ship. Give me my four middle
brothers as companions, and keep the two others as hostages.'

When the king heard these words his heart became filled with
longing, and he ordered all to be done as Simon wished. Every one
ran about to do his bidding; and in next to no time the wonder-ship
was laden and ready to start.

The five Simons took leave of the king, went on board, and had no
sooner set sail than they were almost out of sight. The ship cut
through the waters like a falcon through the air, and just a week
after starting sighted the Island of Busan. The coast appeared to be
strongly guarded, and from afar the watchman on a high tower
called out: 'Halt and anchor! Who are you? Where do you come
from, and what do you want?'

The seventh Simon answered from the ship: 'We are peaceful
people. We come from the country of the great and good King
Archidej, and we bring foreign wares--rich brocades, carpets, and
costly jewels, which we wish to show to your king and the princess.
We desire to trade--to sell, to buy, and to exchange.'

The brothers launched a small boat, took some of their valuable
goods with them, rowed to shore and went up to the palace. The
princess sat in a rose-red room, and when she saw the brothers
coming near she called her nurse and other women, and told them
to inquire who and what these people were, and what they wanted.

The seventh Simon answered the nurse: 'We come from the country
of the wise and good King Archidej,' said he, 'and we have brought
all sorts of goods for sale. We trust the king of this country may
condescend to welcome us, and to let his servants take charge of
our wares. If he considers them worthy to adorn his followers we
shall be content.'

This speech was repeated to the princess, who ordered the brothers
to be brought to the red-room at once. They bowed respectfully to
her and displayed some splendid velvets and brocades, and opened
cases of pearls and precious stones. Such beautiful things had
never been seen in the island, and the nurse and waiting women
stood bewildered by all the magnificence. They whispered together
that they had never beheld anything like it. The princess too saw
and wondered, and her eyes could not weary of looking at the
lovely things, or her fingers of stroking the rich soft stuffs, and of
holding up the sparkling jewels to the light.

'Fairest of princesses,' said Simon. 'Be pleased to order your
waiting-maids to accept the silks and velvets, and let your women
trim their head-dresses with the jewels; these are no special
treasures. But permit me to say that they are as nothing to the
many coloured tapestries, the gorgeous stones and ropes of pearls
in our ship. We did not like to bring more with us, not knowing
what your royal taste might be; but if it seems good to you to
honour our ship with a visit, you might condescend to choose such
things as were pleasing in your eyes.'

This polite speech pleased the princess very much. She went to the
king and said: 'Dear father, some merchants have arrived with the
most splendid wares. Pray allow me to go to their ship and choose
out what I like.'

The king thought and thought, frowned hard and rubbed his ear.
At last he gave consent, and ordered out his royal yacht, with 100
cross-bows, 100 knights, and 1,000 soldiers, to escort the Princess
Helena.

Off sailed the yacht with the princess and her escort. The brothers
Simon came on board to conduct the princess to their ship, and, led
by the brothers and followed by her nurse and other women, she
crossed the crystal plank from one vessel to another.

The seventh Simon spread out his goods, and had so many curious
and interesting tales to tell about them, that the princess forgot
everything else in looking and listening, so that she did not know
that the fourth Simon had seized the prow of the ship, and that all
of a sudden it had vanished from sight, and was racing along in the
depths of the sea.

The crew of the royal yacht shouted aloud, the knights stood still
with terror, the soldiers were struck dumb and hung their heads.
There was nothing to be done but to sail back and tell the king of
his loss.

How he wept and stormed! 'Oh, light of my eyes,' he sobbed; 'I am
indeed punished for my pride. I thought no one good enough to be
your husband, and now you are lost in the depths of the sea, and
have left me alone! As for all of you who saw this thing--away with
you! Let them be put in irons and lock them up in prison, whilst I
think how I can best put them to death!'

Whilst the King of Busan was raging and lamenting in this fashion,
Simon's ship was swimming like any fish under the sea, and when
the island was well out of sight he brought it up to the surface
again. At that moment the princess recollected herself. 'Nurse,'
said she, 'we have been gazing at these wonders only too long. I
hope my father won't be vexed at our delay.'

She tore herself away and stepped on deck. Neither the yacht nor
the island was in sight! Helena wrung her hands and beat her breast.
Then she changed herself into a white swan and flew off. But the
fifth Simon seized his bow and shot the swan, and the sixth Simon
did not let it fall into the water but caught it in the ship, and the
swan turned into a silver fish, but Simon lost no time and caught the
fish, when, quick as thought, the fish turned into a black mouse and
ran about the ship. It darted towards a hole, but before it could
reach it Simon sprang upon it more swiftly than any cat, and then
the little mouse turned once more into the beautiful Princess
Helena.

Early one morning King Archidej sat thoughtfully at his window
gazing out to sea. His heart was sad and he would neither eat nor
drink. His thoughts were full of the Princess Helena, who was as
lovely as a dream. Is that a white gull he sees flying towards the
shore, or is it a sail? No, it is no gull, it is the wonder-ship flying
along with billowing sails. Its flags wave, the fiddlers play on the
wire rigging, the anchor is thrown out and the crystal plank laid
from the ship to the pier. The lovely Helena steps across the plank.
She shines like the sun, and the stars of heaven seem to sparkle in
her eyes.

Up sprang King Archidej in haste: 'Hurry, hurry,' he cried. 'Let us
hasten to meet her! Let the bugles sound and the joy bells be rung!'

And the whole Court swarmed with courtiers and servants. Golden
carpets were laid down and the great gates thrown open to
welcome the princess.

King Archidej went out himself, took her by the hand and led her
into the royal apartments.

'Madam,' said he, 'the fame of your beauty had reached me, but I
had not dared to expect such loveliness. Still I will not keep you
here against your will. If you wish it, the wonder-ship shall take
you back to your father and your own country; but if you will
consent to stay here, then reign over me and my country as our
queen.'

What more is there to tell? It is not hard to guess that the princess
listened to the king's wooing, and their betrothal took place with
great pomp and rejoicings.

The brothers Simon were sent again to the Island of Busan with a
letter to the king from his daughter to invite him to their wedding.
And the wonder-ship arrived at the Island of Busan just as all the
knights and soldiers who had escorted the princess were being led
out to execution.

Then the seventh Simon cried out from the ship: 'Stop! stop! I
bring a letter from the Princess Helena!'

The King of Busan read the letter over and over again, and ordered
the knights and soldiers to be set free. He entertained King
Archidej's ambassadors hospitably, and sent his blessing to his
daughter, but he could not be brought to attend the wedding.

When the wonder-ship got home King Archidej and Princess
Helena were enchanted with the news it brought.

The king sent for the seven Simons. 'A thousand thanks to you, my
brave fellows,' he cried. 'Take what gold, silver, and precious
stones you will out of my treasury. Tell me if there is anything else
you wish for and I will give it you, my good friends. Do you wish
to be made nobles, or to govern towns? Only speak.'

Then the eldest Simon bowed and said: 'We are plain folk, your
Majesty, and understand simple things best. What figures should
we cut as nobles or governors? Nor do we desire gold. We have
our fields which give us food, and as much money as we need. If
you wish to reward us then grant that our land may be free of taxes,
and of your goodness pardon the seventh Simon. He is not the first
who has been a thief by trade and he will certainly not be the last.'

'So be it,' said the king; 'your land shall be free of all taxes, and
Simon the seventh is pardoned.'

Then the king gave each brother a goblet of wine and invited them
to the wedding feast. And what a feast that was!

[From Ungarischen Mahrchen.]



The Language of Beasts

Once upon a time a man had a shepherd who served him many
years faithfully and honestly. One day, whilst herding his flock, this
shepherd heard a hissing sound, coming out of the forest near by,
which he could not account for. So he went into the wood in the
direction of the noise to try to discover the cause. When he
approached the place he found that the dry grass and leaves were
on fire, and on a tree, surrounded by flames, a snake was coiled,
hissing with terror.

The shepherd stood wondering how the poor snake could escape,
for the wind was blowing the flames that way, and soon that tree
would be burning like the rest. Suddenly the snake cried: 'O
shepherd! for the love of heaven save me from this fire!'

Then the shepherd stretched his staff out over the flames and the
snake wound itself round the staff and up to his hand, and from his
hand it crept up his arm, and twined itself about his neck. The
shepherd trembled with fright, expecting every instant to be stung
to death, and said: 'What an unlucky man I am! Did I rescue you
only to be destroyed myself?' But the snake answered: 'Have no
fear; only carry me home to my father who is the King of the
Snakes.' The shepherd, however, was much too frightened to listen,
and said that he could not go away and leave his flock alone; but
the snake said: 'You need not be afraid to leave your flock, no evil
shall befall them; but make all the haste you can.'

So he set off through the wood carrying the snake, and after a time
he came to a great gateway, made entirely of snakes intertwined
one with another. The shepherd stood still with surprise, but the
snake round his neck whistled, and immediately all the arch
unwound itself.

'When we are come to my father's house,' said his own snake to
him, 'he will reward you with anything you like to ask--silver, gold,
jewels, or whatever on this earth is most precious; but take none of
all these things, ask rather to understand the language of beasts. He
will refuse it to you a long time, but in the end he will grant it to
you.'

Soon after that they arrived at the house of the King of the Snakes,
who burst into tears of joy at the sight of his daughter, as he had
given her up for dead. 'Where have you been all this time?' he
asked, directly he could speak, and she told him that she had been
caught in a forest fire, and had been rescued from the flames by the
shepherd. The King of the Snakes, then turning to the shepherd,
said to him: 'What reward will you choose for saving my child?'

'Make me to know the language of beasts,' answered the shepherd,
'that is all I desire.'

The king replied: 'Such knowledge would be of no benefit to you,
for if I granted it to you and you told any one of it, you would
immediately die; ask me rather for whatever else you would most
like to possess, and it shall be yours.'

But the shepherd answered him: 'Sir, if you wish to reward me for
saving your daughter, grant me, I pray you, to know the language
of beasts. I desire nothing else'; and he turned as if to depart.

Then the king called him back, saying: 'If nothing else will satisfy
you, open your mouth.' The man obeyed, and the king spat into it,
and said: 'Now spit into my mouth.' The shepherd did as he was
told, then the King of the Snakes spat again into the shepherd's
mouth. When they had spat into each other's mouths three times,
the king said:

'Now you know the language of beasts, go in peace; but, if you
value your life, beware lest you tell any one of it, else you will
immediately die.'

So the shepherd set out for home, and on his way through the
wood he heard and understood all that was said by the birds, and by
every living creature. When he got back to his sheep he found the
flock grazing peacefully, and as he was very tired he laid himself
down by them to rest a little. Hardly had he done so when two
ravens flew down and perched on a tree near by, and began to talk
to each other in their own language: 'If that shepherd only knew
that there is a vault full of gold and silver beneath where that lamb
is lying, what would he not do?' When the shepherd heard these
words he went straight to his master and told him, and the master at
once took a waggon, and broke open the door of the vault, and
they carried off the treasure. But instead of keeping it for himself,
the master, who was an honourable man, gave it all up to the
shepherd, saying: 'Take it, it is yours. The gods have given it to
you.' So the shepherd took the treasure and built himself a house.
He married a wife, and they lived in great peace and happiness, and
he was acknowledged to be the richest man, not only of his native
village, but of all the country-side. He had flocks of sheep, and
cattle, and horses without end, as well as beautiful clothes and
jewels.

One day, just before Christmas, he said to his wife: 'Prepare
everything for a great feast, to-morrow we will take things with us
to the farm that the shepherds there may make merry.' The wife
obeyed, and all was prepared as he desired. Next day they both
went to the farm, and in the evening the master said to the
shepherds: 'Now come, all of you, eat, drink, and make merry. I
will watch the flocks myself to-night in your stead.' Then he went
out to spend the night with the flocks.

When midnight struck the wolves howled and the dogs barked, and
the wolves spoke in their own tongue, saying:

'Shall we come in and work havoc, and you too shall eat flesh?' And
the dogs answered in their tongue: 'Come in, and for once we shall
have enough to eat.'

Now amongst the dogs there was one so old that he had only two
teeth left in his head, and he spoke to the wolves, saying: 'So long
as I have my two teeth still in my head, I will let no harm be done to
my master.'

All this the master heard and understood, and as soon as morning
dawned he ordered all the dogs to be killed excepting the old dog.
The farm servants wondered at this order, and exclaimed: 'But
surely, sir, that would be a pity?'

The master answered: 'Do as I bid you'; and made ready to return
home with his wife, and they mounted their horses, her steed being
a mare. As they went on their way, it happened that the husband
rode on ahead, while the wife was a little way behind. The
husband's horse, seeing this, neighed, and said to the mare: 'Come
along, make haste; why are you so slow?' And the mare answered:
'It is very easy for you, you carry only your master, who is a thin
man, but I carry my mistress, who is so fat that she weights as much
as three.' When the husband heard that he looked back and laughed,
which the wife perceiving, she urged on the mare till she caught up
with her husband, and asked him why he laughed. 'For nothing at
all,' he answered; 'just because it came into my head.' She would not
be satisfied with this answer, and urged him more and more to tell
her why he had laughed. But he controlled himself and said: 'Let
me be, wife; what ails you? I do not know myself why I laughed.'
But the more he put her off, the more she tormented him to tell her
the cause of his laughter. At length he said to her: 'Know, then,
that if I tell it you I shall immediately and surely die.' But even this
did not quiet her; she only besought him the more to tell her.

Meanwhile they had reached home, and before getting down from
his horse the man called for a coffin to be brought; and when it was
there he placed it in front of the house, and said to his wife:

'See, I will lay myself down in this coffin, and will then tell you why
I laughed, for as soon as I have told you I shall surely die.' So he lay
down in the coffin, and while he took a last look around him, his
old dog came out from the farm and sat down by him, and whined.
When the master saw this, he called to his wife: 'Bring a piece of
bread to give to the dog.' The wife brought some bread and threw it
to the dog, but he would not look at it. Then the farm cock came
and pecked at the bread; but the dog said to it: 'Wretched glutton,
you can eat like that when you see that your master is dying?' The
cock answered: 'Let him die, if he is so stupid. I have a hundred
wives, which I call together when I find a grain of corn, and as soon
as they are there I swallow it myself; should one of them dare to be
angry, I would give her a lesson with my beak. He has only one
wife, and he cannot keep her in order.'

As soon as the man understood this, he got up out of the coffin,
seized a stick, and called his wife into the room, saying: 'Come, and
I will tell you what you so much want to know'; and then he began
to beat her with the stick, saying with each blow: 'It is that, wife, it
is that!' And in this way he taught her never again to ask why he
had laughed.



The Boy Who Could Keep A Secret

Once upon a time there lived a poor widow who had one little boy.
At first sight you would not have thought that he was different from
a thousand other little boys; but then you noticed that by his side
hung the scabbard of a sword, and as the boy grew bigger the
scabbard grew bigger too. The sword which belonged to the
scabbard was found by the little boy sticking out of the ground in
the garden, and every day he pulled it up to see if it would go into
the scabbard. But though it was plainly becoming longer and
longer, it was some time before the two would fit.

However, there came a day at last when it slipped in quite easily.
The child was so delighted that he could hardly believe his eyes, so
he tried it seven times, and each time it slipped in more easily than
before. But pleased though the boy was, he determined not to tell
anyone about it, particularly not his mother, who never could keep
anything from her neighbours.

Still, in spite of his resolutions, he could not hide altogether that
something had happened, and when he went in to breakfast his
mother asked him what was the matter.

'Oh, mother, I had such a nice dream last night,' said he; 'but I can't
tell it to anybody.'

'You can tell it to me,' she answered. 'It must have been a nice
dream, or you wouldn't look so happy.'

'No, mother; I can't tell it to anybody,' returned the boy, 'till it
comes true.'

'I want to know what it was, and know it I will,' cried she, 'and I
will beat you till you tell me.'

But it was no use, neither words nor blows would get the secret out
of the boy; and when her arm was quite tired and she had to leave
off, the child, sore and aching, ran into the garden and knelt
weeping beside his little sword. It was working round and round in
its hole all by itself, and if anyone except the boy had tried to catch
hold of it, he would have been badly cut. But the moment he
stretched out his hand it stopped and slid quietly into the scabbard.

For a long time the child sat sobbing, and the noise was heard by
the king as he was driving by. 'Go and see who it is that is crying
so,' said he to one of his servants, and the man went. In a few
minutes he returned saying: 'Your Majesty, it is a little boy who is
kneeling there sobbing because his mother has beaten him.'

'Bring him to me at once,' commanded the monarch, 'and tell him
that it is the king who sends for him, and that he has never cried in
all his life and cannot bear anyone else to do so.' On receiving this
message the boy dried his tears and went with the servant to the
royal carriage. 'Will you be my son?' asked the king.

'Yes, if my mother will let me,' answered the boy. And the king
bade the servant go back to the mother and say that if she would
give her boy to him, he should live in the palace and marry his
prettiest daughter as soon as he was a man.

The widow's anger now turned into joy, and she came running to
the splendid coach and kissed the king's hand. 'I hope you will be
more obedient to his Majesty than you were to me,' she said; and
the boy shrank away half-frightened. But when she had gone back
to her cottage, he asked the king if he might fetch something that he
had left in the garden, and when he was given permission, he pulled
up his little sword, which he slid into the scabbard.

Then he climbed into the coach and was driven away.

After they had gone some distance the king said: 'Why were you
crying so bitterly in the garden just now?'

'Because my mother had been beating me,' replied the boy.

'And what did she do that for?' asked the king again.

'Because I would not tell her my dream.'

'And why wouldn't you tell it to her?'

'Because I will never tell it to anyone till it comes true,' answered
the boy.

'And won't you tell it to me either?' asked the king in surprise.

'No, not even to you, your Majesty,' replied he.

'Oh, I am sure you will when we get home,' said the king smiling,
and he talked to him about other things till they came to the palace.

'I have brought you such a nice present,' he said to his daughters,
and as the boy was very pretty they were delighted to have him and
gave him all their best toys.

'You must not spoil him,' observed the king one day, when he had
been watching them playing together. He has a secret which he
won't tell to anyone.'

'He will tell me,' answered the eldest princess; but the boy only
shook his head.

'He will tell me,' said the second girl.

'Not I,' replied the boy.

'He will tell me,' cried the youngest, who was the prettiest too.

'I will tell nobody till it comes true,' said the boy, as he had said
before; 'and I will beat anybody who asks me.'

The king was very sorry when he heard this, for he loved the boy
dearly; but he thought it would never do to keep anyone near him
who would not do as he was bid. So he commanded his servants to
take him away and not to let him enter the palace again until he had
come to his right senses.

The sword clanked loudly as the boy was led away, but the child
said nothing, though he was very unhappy at being treated so badly
when he had done nothing. However, the servants were very kind
to him, and their children brought him fruit and all sorts of nice
things, and he soon grew merry again, and lived amongst them for
many years till his seventeenth birthday.

Meanwhile the two eldest princesses had become women, and had
married two powerful kings who ruled over great countries across
the sea. The youngest one was old enough to be married too, but
she was very particular, and turned up her nose at all the young
princes who had sought her hand.

One day she was sitting in the palace feeling rather dull and lonely,
and suddenly she began to wonder what the servants were doing,
and whether it was not more amusing down in their quarters. The
king was at his council and the queen was ill in bed, so there was no
one to stop the princess, and she hastily ran across the gardens to
the houses where the servants lived. Outside she noticed a youth
who was handsomer than any prince she had ever seen, and in a
moment she knew him to be the little boy she had once played with.

'Tell me your secret and I will marry you,' she said to him; but the
boy only gave her the beating he had promised her long ago, when
she asked him the same question. The girl was very angry, besides
being hurt, and ran home to complain to her father.

'If he had a thousand souls, I would kill them all,' swore the king.

That very day a gallows was built outside the town, and all the
people crowded round to see the execution of the young man who
had dared to beat the king's daughter. The prisoner, with his hands
tied behind his back, was brought out by the hangman, and amidst
dead silence his sentence was being read by the judge when
suddenly the sword clanked against his side. Instantly a great noise
was heard and a golden coach rumbled over the stones, with a
white flag waving out of the window. It stopped underneath the
gallows, and from it stepped the king of the Magyars, who begged
that the life of the boy might be spared.

'Sir, he has beaten my daughter, who only asked him to tell her his
secret. I cannot pardon that,' answered the princess's father.

'Give him to me, I'm sure he will tell me the secret; or, if not, I have
a daughter who is like the Morning Star, and he is sure to tell it to
her.'

The sword clanked for the third time, and the king said angrily:
'Well, if you want him so much you can have him; only never let me
see his face again.' And he made a sign to the hangman. The
bandage was removed from the young man's eyes, and the cords
from his wrists, and he took his seat in the golden coach beside the
king of the Magyars. Then the coachman whipped up his horses,
and they set out for Buda.

The king talked very pleasantly for a few miles, and when he
thought that his new companion was quite at ease with him, he
asked him what was the secret which had brought him into such
trouble. ' That I cannot tell you,' answered the youth, 'until it
comes true.'

'You will tell my daughter,' said the king, smiling.

'I will tell nobody,' replied the youth, and as he spoke the sword
clanked loudly. The king said no more, but trusted to his daughter's
beauty to get the secret from him.

The journey to Buda was long, and it was several days before they
arrived there. The beautiful princess happened to be picking roses
in the garden, when her father's coach drove up.

'Oh, what a handsome youth! Have you brought him from
fairyland?' cried she, when they all stood upon the marble steps in
front of the castle.

'I have brought him from the gallows,' answered the king; rather
vexed at his daughter's words, as never before had she consented to
speak to any man.

'I don't care where you brought him from,' said the spoilt girl. 'I
will marry him and nobody else, and we will live together till we
die.'

'You will tell another tale,' replied the king, 'when you ask him his
secret. After all he is no better than a servant.'

'That is nothing to me,' said the princess, 'for I love him. He will
tell his secret to me, and will find a place in the middle of my heart.'

But the king shook his head, and gave orders that the lad was to be
lodged in the summer-house.

One day, about a week later, the princess put on her finest dress,
and went to pay him a visit. She looked so beautiful that, at the
sight of her, the book dropped from his hand, and he stood up
speechless. 'Tell me,' she said, coaxingly, 'what is this wonderful
secret? Just whisper it in my ear, and I will give you a kiss.'

'My angel,' he answered, 'be wise, and ask no questions, if you wish
to get safely back to your father's palace; I have kept my secret all
these years, and do not mean to tell it now.'

However, the girl would not listen, and went on pressing him, till at
last he slapped her face so hard that her nose bled. She shrieked
with pain and rage, and ran screaming back to the palace, where her
father was waiting to hear if she had succeeded. 'I will starve you
to death, you son of a dragon,' cried he, when he saw her dress
streaming with blood; and he ordered all the masons and bricklayers
in the town to come before him.

'Build me a tower as fast as you can,' he said, 'and see that there is
room for a stool and a small table, and for nothing else. The men
set to work, and in two hours the tower was built, and they
proceeded to the palace to inform the king that his commands were
fulfilled. On the way they met the princess, who began to talk to
one of the masons, and when the rest were out of hearing she asked
if he could manage to make a hole in the tower, which nobody
could see, large enough for a bottle of wine and some food to pass
through.

'To be sure I can,' said the mason, turning back, and in a few
minutes the hole was bored.

At sunset a large crowd assembled to watch the youth being led to
the tower, and after his misdeeds had been proclaimed he was
solemnly walled up. But every morning the princess passed him in
food through the hole, and every third day the king sent his
secretary to climb up a ladder and look down through a little
window to see if he was dead. But the secretary always brought
back the report that he was fat and rosy.

'There is some magic about this,' said the king.

This state of affairs lasted some time, till one day a messenger
arrived from the Sultan bearing a letter for the king, and also three
canes. 'My master bids me say,' said the messenger, bowing low,
'that if you cannot tell him which of these three canes grows nearest
the root, which in the middle, and which at the top, he will declare
war against you.

The king was very much frightened when he heard this, and though
he took the canes and examined them closely, he could see no
difference between them. He looked so sad that his daughter
noticed it, and inquired the reason.

'Alas! my daughter,' he answered, 'how can I help being sad? The
Sultan has sent me three canes, and says that if I cannot tell him
which of them grows near the root, which in the middle, and which
at the top, he will make war upon me. And you know that his army
is far greater than mine.'

'Oh, do not despair, my father,' said she. 'We shall be sure to find
out the answer'; and she ran away to the tower, and told the young
man what had occurred.

'Go to bed as usual,' replied he, 'and when you wake, tell your
father that you have dreamed that the canes must be placed in warm
water. After a little while one will sink to the bottom; that is the
one that grows nearest the root. The one which neither sinks nor
comes to the surface is the cane that is cut from the middle; and the
one that floats is from the top.'

So, the next morning, the princess told her father of her dream, and
by her advice he cut notches in each of the canes when he took
them out of the water, so that he might make no mistake when he
handed them back to the messenger. The Sultan could not imagine
how he had found out, but he did not declare war.

The following year the Sultan again wanted to pick a quarrel with
the king of the Magyars, so he sent another messenger to him with
three foals, begging him to say which of the animals was born in the
morning, which at noon, and which in the evening. If an answer
was not ready in three days, war would be declared at once. The
king's heart sank when he read the letter. He could not expect his
daughter to be lucky enough to dream rightly a second time, and as
a plague had been raging through the country, and had carried off
many of his soldiers, his army was even weaker than before. At this
thought his face became so gloomy that his daughter noticed it, and
inquired what was the matter.

'I have had another letter from the Sultan,' replied the king, 'and he
says that if I cannot tell him which of three foals was born in the
morning, which at noon, and which in the evening, he will declare
war at once.'

'Oh, don't be cast down,' said she, 'something is sure to happen'; and
she ran down to the tower to consult the youth.

'Go home, idol of my heart, and when night comes, pretend to
scream out in your sleep, so that your father hears you. Then tell
him that you have dreamt that he was just being carried off by the
Turks because he could not answer the question about the foals,
when the lad whom he had shut up in the tower ran up and told
them which was foaled in the morning, which at noon, and which in
the evening.'

So the princess did exactly as the youth had bidden her; and no
sooner had she spoken than the king ordered the tower to be pulled
down, and the prisoner brought before him.

'I did not think that you could have lived so long without food,' said
he, 'and as you have had plenty of time to repent your wicked
conduct, I will grant you pardon, on condition that you help me in a
sore strait. Read this letter from the Sultan; you will see that if I
fail to answer his question about the foals, a dreadful war will be
the result.'

The youth took the letter and read it through. 'Yes, I can help you,'
replied he; 'but first you must bring me three troughs, all exactly
alike. Into one you must put oats, into another wheat, and into the
third barley. The foal which eats the oats is that which was foaled
in the morning; the foal which eats the wheat is that which was
foaled at noon; and the foal which eats the barley is that which was
foaled at night.' The king followed the youth's directions, and,
marking the foals, sent them back to Turkey, and there was no war
that year.

Now the Sultan was very angry that both his plots to get possession
of Hungary had been such total failures, and he sent for his aunt,
who was a witch, to consult her as to what he should do next.

'It is not the king who has answered your questions,' observed the
aunt, when he had told his story. 'He is far too stupid ever to have
done that! The person who has found out the puzzle is the son of a
poor woman, who, if he lives, will become King of Hungary.
Therefore, if you want the crown yourself, you must get him here
and kill him.'

After this conversation another letter was written to the Court of
Hungary, saying that if the youth, now in the palace, was not sent
to Turkey within three days, a large army would cross the border.
The king's heart was sorrowful as he read, for he was grateful to
the lad for what he had done to help him; but the boy only laughed,
and bade the king fear nothing, but to search the town instantly for


 


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