Chapter IV: Part 4

The Evil One and his bride now lived very happily together for a month, but at the end of that time he told the girl that he was obliged to go away on a journey and that he would not return for three days. During that time she must amuse herself as best she could. She might go all over the house and examine the treasures that were in it, and he gave her a great bunch of keys which were the keys of the different rooms. One door alone she must not open, and that was the Red door at the end of the passage. If she opened this, even so much as a crack, great misfortune would follow.

He then kissed his bride and bade her farewell, but before leaving he gave her a bunch of flowers, and begged her to wear it while he was away.

After he had gone the girl fastened the flowers in the bosom of her dress, and then she began to open the different doors in the house and to go through the rooms, for many of them she had never seen before. She was amazed at the treasures she found in them, and began to think her husband must be the richest man in all the world.

She amused herself very well for two days, and during that time the flowers upon her bosom remained as fresh as when her husband had first given them to her.

But by the time the third day came the girl had seen everything there was in the house except what lay behind the Red door. As she had nothing to do except wonder about that she grew more and more curious. "It must be some treasure more magnificent than all the rest," she said to herself, "and which my husband intends to surprise me with. It would surely do no harm if I just took one peep at it."

She put the key in the door and turned it. Immediately, and in spite of all she could do to hold it, the door swung wide open, and she saw at her feet a pit filled with fire. She sprang back, but before she could close the door a flame leaped up and scorched the flowers upon her bosom so that they hung black and dead.

Frightened out of her senses the girl managed to shut the door and lock it. The first thing she did was to take off the flowers and hide them, and then she went out to the garden to gather a fresh bunch before her husband's return. She hunted everywhere, but nowhere could she find flowers such as he had given her.

While she was still searching she heard him riding up to the door and she was obliged to go out to meet him.

As soon as the Evil One saw her he asked, "Have you opened the Red door?"

"No," answered the girl, and she trembled so that she could hardly stand.

"Then where are the flowers I gave you?"

"They withered because they had no water, and so I threw them away."

"That is false," cried the Evil One; "you have disobeyed me, and you shall be punished as you deserve." And with that he caught hold of the girl and threw her into the pit.

Then he mounted his black charger and rode away to the merchant's house.

The merchant was delighted to see him and began to enquire about his daughter.

The Evil One put on a very mournful look. "My dear wife is dead," he said, "and I am so lonely that I can scarcely bear it. Give me, I beg of you, your second daughter for a wife, that she may take her sister's place in my house and comfort me."

The merchant was very much grieved to hear of his daughter's death, but he felt pity for the Evil One, and as his second daughter was willing he gave her to him as a wife.

As soon as they were married they got into a coach and drove away together.

When they reached the house of the Evil One the new bride was as much delighted with it as her sister had been. They went inside and she could not admire enough all the magnificence she saw.

She and her husband lived together very happily for a month, and at the end of that time he told her he was obliged to go on a long journey, and he would not be able to return for three days. However, he told her she might amuse herself while he was away by going over the house. He gave her the keys of all the rooms, and said she might go into any of them; only the Red door at the end of the long passage she must not open on any account.

The girl promised, and then after bidding her good-by the Evil One rode away, but to her, too, before leaving, he gave a bunch of flowers, and begged her to wear it until he returned.

After he had gone the girl began to go through the house, and when she saw all the treasures that were in it she could hardly restrain her joy. She examined the furniture and statues and the ornaments of gold and silver.

At the end of two days she had opened every door in the house except the Red door. She began to wonder what was behind it, and though she tried to occupy herself with other things she grew more and more curious. At last she could restrain her curiosity no longer.

"I will only open the door a crack," she thought, "and will just peep in, and my husband need never know it."

She put the key in the lock and turned it, and immediately the door swung wide open. The girl could not hold it.

Below her lay a pit of fire, and in it was her sister, and before she could step back or move, a flame leaped up and burned the flowers on her bosom to a crisp.

The girl was frightened to death, for now she knew the man she had married was the Evil One himself.

She managed to shut the door at last, and the first thing she did was to throw the flowers away. Then she went out in the garden to gather a fresh bunch. She hunted everywhere, but no place could she find any in the least like those that had been burned.

While she was still hunting her husband came home; she was afraid to have him find her in the garden, and so she went out to meet him.

The first thing he asked her was, "Where are the flowers I gave you to wear?"

"They fell from my bosom while I was out walking, and I have not been able to find them."

"That is not true," cried the Evil One in a terrible voice. "You have opened the Red door and the flowers are burned."

"No," cried the girl half fainting with terror. But with no more words the Evil One caught hold of her and threw her down into the pit with her sister.

He locked the door upon them and mounted his coal-black charger and rode back to the merchant's house.

As soon as the merchant saw him from the window he came out to meet him. "Has any misfortune happened to my dear daughter?" he cried.

The Evil One began to lament. "Alas, she is dead," he said, "and I am left so lonely that it seems as though I could not bear it."

In the end the merchant gave the Evil One his third daughter for a wife, though it broke his heart to part with her, for she was his youngest daughter and dearer to him than either of the others.

The Evil One married her, and they got in the coach and drove away together.

When the new bride saw the magnificent house he lived in, she was no less pleased with it than her sisters had been.

For a month she and her husband lived there very happily, and then he told her he was obliged to go away on a long journey, and would be gone three days. He gave her the keys of the house, and told her she might go into any of the rooms she chose. Only the Red door at the end of the long passage she must not open on any account.

The new bride promised, and her husband gave her a bunch of flowers, which he begged her to wear while he was gone. Then he rode away.

The girl watched him until he was out of sight, and then the very first thing she did was to put the flowers in a glass of water, that she might keep them fresh until he came back.

After that she began to amuse herself by going over the house and seeing what it contained.

For two days she was very busy in this way, but at the end of that time she had seen everything, and began to wonder what was behind the Red door.

She stood it as long as she could and then she put the key in the lock and turned it. Immediately the door swung open. What was the girl's horror to see at her feet a chasm of fire, and in it her two dear sisters whom she had thought were dead.

As soon as they saw her they cried aloud, "Alas, alas! What have you done! You have opened the Red door and now you, too, will be thrown into this pit of fire as we were."

"No, my dear sisters," said the girl. "Reach me your hands and I will help you out, and then we will find some way to escape from the power of this Evil One."

The sisters reached her their hands and she managed to pull them out, first one and then the other. After they had kissed each other and wept together the youngest sister hid the others away in her closet among her clothes. And none too soon, for already she heard her husband at the door.

She made haste to pin the flowers he had given her upon the bosom of her dress, and then she went out to meet him.

The first thing the Evil One said was, "Did you open the Red door?"

"No, I did not open it," answered the girl.

The Evil One looked, and she had the flowers upon her bosom, and they were as fresh as when he had given them to her. Then he believed her, and he could not do enough to show how delighted he was with her. He showered gifts upon her, and there was nothing she might not have had for the asking.

So they lived for awhile, apparently in great peace, and the young wife kept her sisters hidden, so that the Evil One suspected nothing. One day she said to her husband, "I would like to send a present to my father, so that he may know how prosperous I am, but I have no chest suitable to send it in."

The Evil One immediately said he would have one made, and she told him the shape and size she wished it. It was to be of heavy wood, bound round with iron, and such and such a size. When it was finished it was big enough for a person to get in it and to have room to lie there.

When the chest was brought home the young wife had it taken to her room, and after she had locked the door she bade her eldest sister climb into the chest and then she closed the lid and fastened it.

Then she called her husband. "Carry this to my father's house," she said, "and whatever you do, do not open the lid nor look in it. I will be watching you from my window, and if you attempt to do that I shall surely see you."

The Evil One took the chest and started off with it, but he had a great deal of curiosity, and he wondered what his wife was sending to her father to make the chest so heavy. He waited, however, until he was well out of sight of the house, and then he put down the chest and prepared to open it.

The girl inside called out, "I see what you are doing! I see what you are doing!"

The Evil One thought it was his wife at home, who was calling after him. "My wife certainly has a keen sight," he thought to himself; but he picked up the chest again and went on with it.

When he reached the merchant's house he did not knock nor wait to see anyone. He opened the door and threw the chest inside. "Merchant, here is a present my wife sent you," he called out. Then he shut the door and went on home.

You may imagine the joy of the good merchant when he opened the chest and found his eldest daughter inside it alive and well.

Not long after the wife said to her husband, "I would like to send another present to my father."

The Evil One was willing, for he could refuse her nothing, so she had another chest made exactly like the first, and in this she put her second sister.

When all was ready she called her husband and bade him take the chest and carry it to her father. "And whatever you do, be sure you do not open it on the way," she said. "I shall be watching from my window, and if you do I shall certainly see you."

The Evil One took up the chest and started off with it. This time he waited until he was in the middle of the wood before he attempted to open it. No sooner had he put it down, however, and laid his hand on the lid than the girl inside called out:

"I see what you are doing! I see what you are doing!"

"My wife certainly can see farther than anyone in the world," thought the Evil One. Then he took up the chest and went on again.

When he reached the merchant's house he threw the chest inside the door. "Merchant, your daughter sends you this present," he called out, and home he went again.

Now, some time after this the wife would send a third present to her father, and the Evil One was willing, so she had a third chest made exactly like the other two. She said to her husband, "Very soon the chest will be ready, and then I will call you. Carry it carefully, and do not open it on the way, for I will be out on my balcony this time and will see you if you do."

As soon as the girl was alone she made a figure and dressed it in her clothes and set it out on the balcony. She put a quantity of the Evil One's treasure into the chest, and got in herself and called to her husband.

He came in and there stood the chest all ready for him, with the lid closed. He picked it up and it was heavier than either of the others, so heavy that the sweat ran down his face.

He started off with it, and when he was a little way from the house he looked back. There was the figure sitting on the balcony, and the Evil One thought it was his wife. "Yes, there she is watching me," he said, "and her eyes are so keen that if I do but sit down to rest my back she will see me."

He went on with the chest, and this time he made no attempt to open it. He threw the chest inside the merchant's door and called out, "Merchant, here is another present your daughter sends you;" and then he went on home again.

When the merchant opened the chest and found his third daughter in it he was beside himself with joy. The three sisters embraced each other tenderly, and the youngest divided the treasure equally, so that each one had enough to give her a rich dowry.

But the Evil One went on home, and by the time he reached there he was very hungry. He called to his wife to come and give him his supper, but there was no answer. He called her again, and then in a rage he went out onto the balcony where the figure was sitting. "Will you come when I call you or will you not?" he cried.

Still the figure made no answer. The Evil One laid his hand on its shoulder and gave it a shake, and as soon as he did that it all fell to pieces, and he saw the trick that had been played upon him. Raging he rushed about everywhere, but he could find only his wife's empty jewel boxes.

"She has left me," he cried, "and taken my treasures with her."

He leaped upon his charger and rode away like the wind, determined to demand his wife of the merchant, but when he drew near the house he saw all three of the sisters sitting out on the balcony together. As soon as he appeared they began to mock at him and taunt him.

The thought of three wives at once was too much for the Evil One. In his rage and disappointment he suddenly burst and disappeared in fire and smoke, and since that time he has never been seen again.

THE FAITHFUL DOG

(_From the Japanese_)

THERE were once a man and his wife who were so poor that they scarcely knew from one time to another whether they would have enough to eat.

One day the man found a starving dog near the house and brought it home with him. "Look!" said he to his wife. "Here is one even more unfortunate than ourselves. See whether you cannot find something in the house for it to eat, for unless you do it will surely die."

The woman hunted about and found a handful of rice, which she cooked and gave to the dog. After it had eaten it grew stronger, and began to play about and show such pretty tricks that the poor couple were delighted with it.

After this it lived with them in the house and they became very fond of it. What little they had they shared with it, and it grew strong and glossy.

One day the poor couple went out to walk in the garden, and the dog, as usual, followed close to them. When they came to a certain corner, however, it left them and began to scratch at the ground and bark.

"Look!" cried the woman. "Something must certainly be buried there. I wonder what it can be?"

The man called the dog, but it would not leave the corner, and only looked at him and barked again.

"Something must indeed be there," said the man to his wife. "I will run to our neighbor's house and borrow a spade, and dig down until I find what it is."

So saying he hurried away to the neighbor's, and asked him to lend him a spade.

"What do you wish to do with it?" asked the neighbor, who was a very inquisitive man.

"I wish to dig in a corner of my garden, for I think my dog has found something there."

The neighbor lent him the spade, and himself went over to the garden to see whether the good man would find anything.

When the dog saw his master return and make ready to dig, he stood aside, wagging his tail with joy.

The man had not dug far when his spade struck something hard, and this, when it was uncovered, proved to be a chest of gold. The good couple were overcome with joy at the sight of such a treasure. They almost lost their senses, and even embraced the dog in their delight.

So happy were they that they did not notice that the neighbor had turned green with envy. "That is a valuable dog," he said to them at last. "What will you sell him for?"

"Sell him!" cried the good man. "There is not enough gold in all the world to buy him. The only good fortune that has ever come to us has come through him."

"Then at least lend him to me," said the neighbor. "Surely you would not keep all the good fortune to yourselves. It may be that he will find a chest of gold for me in my garden."

The good people were willing to do this, so the envious neighbor fastened a piece of rope about the dog's neck and led him home with him, and he and his wife took the dog out in the garden and walked up and down and around with him just as the good couple had done. They were obliged to keep the rope about the dog's neck and drag him along, for they had so often before this thrown hard words and harder stones at him that he would not go with them willingly. But though he was obliged to follow because of the rope he would not bark nor even sniff about, and at last the envious neighbor grew so angry that he killed the dog and buried it under a plane tree in the garden.

The good man waited and waited for the neighbor to bring back the dog, but as he did not do so he went over after a few days to ask for it.

Then the envious neighbor told him he had killed it and buried it under the plane tree.

The good man was filled with grief when he heard that his dog was dead. Sadly he returned to his wife and told her what had happened, and they sat down and wept together as though indeed it had been a child that had died.

But that night the man had a wonderful dream, and his wife also dreamed, and the dreams were exactly the same. In the dreams the dog appeared to them, and said, "Go; ask the neighbor to give you the plane tree beneath which I am buried and make of it a mortar and pestle, and whatever you grind with them shall be changed to gold."

When the good couple awoke they began each one to tell the other of the dream, and they were filled with wonder to find that their dreams were both the same. "This is very wonderful," said the man, "and I am sure they must be true dreams, or the dog would not have appeared to us both."

So as soon as he arose he went over to the neighbor's and begged and entreated him to give him the plane tree. The envious man refused, but after a time he agreed to sell it to the good man for ten pieces of gold.

The man paid him, and then cut down the plane tree and dragged it home, and made of it a mortar and pestle.

As soon as this was done he put a handful of rice in the mortar and began to grind it, and under the pestle all the rice was changed to gold. Now the good people were rich indeed. They could grind out gold at any time until their arms grew tired. They bought fine clothes, and good things to eat and everything their hearts could desire.

It was not long before the news of all this came to the ears of the envious neighbor. He went over to the house of the good man and began to rage and storm at him. "This is a pretty way to treat me!" he cried. "You come to me and beg for my plane tree and because of my good heart I cannot refuse you, and you only pay me ten pieces of gold for what is worth more than a thousand. At least lend the mortar and pestle to me for a day, that I may grind out some money, too."

The good man was willing to do this, so he lent the mortar and pestle to the envious neighbor who carried them away with him.

As soon as he reached home he put a handful of rice into the mortar and began to grind it, but when he and his wife looked, it had all turned into ill-smelling filth. The envious man was beside himself with rage, and taking an ax he chopped the mortar and pestle into pieces, and threw them into the fire.

The good man waited and waited in vain for his neighbor to return the mortar, and at last went over to ask for it.

"I have burned it," said the envious man. "It only filled the house with filth, and at any rate it was made of my plane tree and I had a right to do with it as I wished."

The good man returned to his wife very sorrowful, for lost now was all further hope of riches. But that night the couple again dreamed. In their dreams the dog appeared to them and told them the man must go to the neighbor and ask him for the ashes of the mortar and pestle. "Take a handful of these ashes, and fling them over any tree," said the dog, "and even although it is dead, and has been dead many years, it will burst into bloom."

The next morning the man arose in haste, and went over to the neighbor's house, and begged him to give him the ashes of the mortar and pestle.

"There they are," said the envious man contemptuously. "You may gather them up if you choose, and much good may they do you."

The good man gathered them up very carefully, and carried them home. To test them he took up a handful and flung it over a withered branch in his garden. Immediately the branch burst forth into bloom; the whole garden was filled with the perfume of the flowers.

The man then put the ashes in a bag and started out with them; he went about through the country throwing handfuls of ashes over dead trees and bringing them to life, and in this way he earned a great deal of money.

At last the prince of the country heard of all this, and sent for the man to come to the palace, and began to question him. "Is it true," he asked, "that you can bring dead trees to life and make them blossom, as I have heard?"

"That is indeed no more than the truth," answered the man.

"It is a thing I should greatly like to see," said the prince. "I have in my garden a tree that has lately died, from what cause I do not know. If you can do as you say and cause it to break forth into blossom I will reward you well, but if you fail, you shall be punished as a boaster and a cheat."

The man was then taken into a magnificent garden, and the prince and his suite went with him to witness the spectacle. The man was shown the tree, and the branches were indeed as dry and lifeless as though they had been of stone. The man climbed up it, and when he had gone as high as he could he opened his bag and took out a handful of ashes and scattered them around. Almost immediately small buds appeared on the branches; they grew and swelled and then burst forth into rosy bloom. So heavy were the clusters of blossoms that the man in the tree was quite hidden by them.

The prince was filled with admiration, and so much pleased that he gave the man a bag of gold, and praised him beyond measure.

Now when the neighbor heard of the fresh good fortune that had befallen the other, he was more envious than ever. He sent word to the prince that he, too, could cause dead trees to blossom, and at that the prince bade the envious neighbor come to the palace. He hoped to see again as fine a sight as the good man had shown him.

The prince and all his suite as before accompanied the envious man to a garden where there was another dead tree. The envious man had his bag of ashes with him, and he climbed up among the branches and settled himself in a crotch. The prince and his attendants stood below, all looking up at him with open eyes and mouths.

The envious man took out a double handful and scattered them around. They blew down into the eyes and mouths of the prince and his suite, blinding them and choking them, but the tree remained as dead and bare as ever.

The prince was so angry that, as soon as he had recovered from the ashes, he had the envious man taken away and punished. But he sent for the good man and raised him to riches and honor, so that he and his wife lived happy forever after.

KEMPION

(_From the Scotch Ballads_)

ANGUS MAC PHERSON had one daughter, and she was so beautiful that it made the heart ache to look at her. Her hair was of red gold; her eyes were as blue as the sky and she was as slim and fair as a reed, and because of her beauty she was always called the Fair Ellen.

Angus Mac Pherson loved Fair Ellen as he did the apple of his eye, but all the same her mother had only been dead a year when he was for marrying again and bringing a stepmother into the house.

The new wife was handsome too, with eyes as black as sloes, and hair like a cloud at night, but the moment she saw Fair Ellen she knew the girl was the more beautiful, and she hated her with a bitter black hate for her beauty's sake.

Well, they lived along, and Fair Ellen served her stepmother well. She served her with foot and she served her with hand. Everything that she could do for her she did, but the stepmother hated her worse and worse, and a powerful wicked witch was she.

Now it chanced that Angus Mac Pherson had to go on a far journey, and he would be away a long time. He said good-by to his wife and his daughter and then he started out, and no one was left in the house but those two alone.

After he had been gone a little while the stepmother said, "Come, Fair Ellen, we are both sad and down-hearted. Let us go out and walk upon the cliffs where the wind blows and the sun shines."

Fair Ellen was ready enough to go, so they set out together.

They walked along and they walked along until they came to Estmere Crag, and always as they walked the stepmother's lips moved as though she were talking to herself, but no word did she utter.

"What is that you say?" asked Fair Ellen.

"'Tis a rhyme I learned when I was young," said the stepmother. "I was but minding myself of it."

After awhile they reached the top of the crag, and the sea was far, far below them. Then the stepmother turned to Fair Ellen.

"Blue of eyes and fair of speech," she cried; "you have crossed my path, and none may do that and have good come of it. You have crossed my path with your beauty, but with your beauty you shall cross it no longer."

Fair Ellen stood and looked at her, and her heart grew cold within her, and she could stir neither hand nor foot.

The stepmother raised her hand and touched her. "A loathly worm you shall be," she cried. "You shall dwell under Estmere Crag and the salt sea shall be your home, and bonowed[1] shall ye never be, till Kempion, the king's own son, shall come to the crag and thrice kiss thee."

Then the witch turned and walked down the crag, and back to her own home.

But the Fair Ellen was changed in her shape so that even her own father would have feared her. Her shape grew long, her breath was fire, and she became a scaly dragon. Down over Estmere Crag she swung, and deep in a cavern she hid herself, and the smoke rose from the cavern and everyone was afraid.

Now it was not long that she had been there when word came to the king's palace that such a beast was in the land, and that all the country was wasted because of her. But none dared to go out against her because she was so terrible.

But Kempion, the king's own son, was as brave a prince as ever lived. Handsome he was, too, and straight and tall.

Now when he heard of the great beast his heart rose within him, and he swore that he would go out to slay it, and Segramore, his brother, said that he would go with him.

They built themselves a bonny boat, for they could best come to the beast's lair by sea, and they two set out together; they two and no other, for everyone else was afraid to go with them.

They sailed out and on and around, and so they came within sight of Estmere Crag, and there lay the great worm stretched in and out among the rocks. It was a gruesome sight, and with every breath it breathed, the crag was lit up as if by fire.

Kempion and his brother had scarce come within a mile of the land when the beast saw them, and raised itself. It opened its mouth and fire and flame poured forth. It swung its head to and fro and the sea was lashed into foam.

"Keep further out," cried Kempion to his brother. "Keep further out, for this beast has sure gone mad at the sight of us; a little more and it will set fire to all the land."

Then Segramore kept the boat off, and Kempion bent his arbalest bow and aimed an arrow at the head of the beast. He bent his bow, but the arrow stayed, for when he saw the eyes of the beast they were the eyes of a sorrowing maid, and they seemed to pierce to his very soul.

Nevertheless he kept his bow still bent and he called to it across the water, "Now, by my soul, unless you swear to me that you will quit my land, with this same shaft will I shoot you dead."

Then the worm made answer,

"Out of my rocks I will not rise
Nor leave the land for fear of thee
Till over Estmere Crag ye come
And on my mouth three times kiss me."

Then Kempion was like one distraught. He threw down his bow and bade his brother row back to the land. "I will go over the crag to you, beast," he cried, "though I go to my death at the same time."

Segramore begged and pleaded with him, but he would not listen. As soon as they came to the shore he leaped from the boat and all unarmed set out for Estmere Crag.

Up and up he climbed, and it was a dizzy height. Far, far below was the blue sea, and half way up from it the cavern where the beast made its lair. Kempion could see it there now, twisted among the rocks.

Out swung the great beast and around it came, the fiercest beast that ever was seen. The hair rose on Kempion's head and he shut his eyes, for it was near him now. It came close and the fire was all about him, but it did not burn him. Then he kissed it.

He kissed it and the mouth was cold.

Out it swung and again it came.

"Out of my lair I will not rise,
I will not leave for fear of thee,
Oh, Kempion, you dear king's son,
Till on the mouth you thrice kiss me."

Then Kempion kissed the beast again and its lips were warm. The third time he kissed it, and its mouth was the mouth of a woman.

Then Kempion looked, and before him stood the most beautiful maid he had ever seen. Slim as a reed she was, and very fair, for her eyes were as blue as the sky, and her hair as bright as gold, and it fell all about her, and down to her knees like a mantle.

Then Kempion took his cloak and wrapped it about her. "You are my own true love," he said, "and other maid I will marry none, for never have I seen such beauty and gentleness before."

So he carried her up from Estmere Crag, and home to the palace of the king.

There, all was sorrow and mourning, for they thought that Kempion was surely dead. But when they saw him come into the hall, and saw the beautiful bride he had brought with him, all their sorrow was turned into rejoicing.

When they had heard how the young prince had broken the enchantment that had held Fair Ellen the old king turned to her. "Tell me, oh, my daughter," he said, "was it mermaid in the sea, or was it werewolf in the wood, or some wicked man or wicked woman that wrought this cruel spell on thee?"

"It was not werewolf in the wood, it was not mermaid in the sea, but it was my wicked stepmother that wrought this cruel spell on me."

Then said the king, "Punished shall she surely be; she shall be taken to the top of Estmere Crag, and thrown over into the sea, for such wickedness shall pollute my land no longer. But you, Fair Ellen, shall be the bride of my own dear son Kempion, and the half of all I have shall be yours and his forever."

FOOTNOTE:

[1] Bonowed--ransomed or rescued.

BUTTERCUP

(_From the Norse_)

THERE was once a poor woman who I had one son, a little boy so fat and round, and with such bright yellow hair that he was called Buttercup. The house where they lived was upon the edge of a lonely forest, and upon the other side of this forest lived a wicked old witch.

One day when the woman was baking she heard Sharptooth, her dog, begin to bark. "Run, Buttercup, and see who is coming," she said.

Buttercup ran and looked out. "Oh, Mother, it is an old witch with her head under one arm and a bag under the other."

"Come, quick," cried the mother, "and hide yourself in the dough trough so that she may not see you."

Buttercup jumped into the dough trough and his mother shut the lid, so that no one would have known he was there.

Then in a moment there was a knock at the door, and the old witch opened it and looked in. She had put her head on where it belonged now, and she looked almost like any old woman.

"Good-day, daughter," said she.

"Good-day, mother," answered the woman.

"May I come in and rest my bones a bit?"

The woman did not want her to come in, but neither did she like to say no. "Come in, in heaven's name."

The old witch entered and sat down on the settle, and then she began to look and peer about the room.

"Have you no children?" she asked.

"Yes, I have one son."

"And how do you call him?"

"I call him Buttercup."

"Is he at home?"

"No; his father takes him out with him when he goes hunting."

The old witch looked greatly disappointed. "I am sorry Buttercup is not at home, for I have a sweet little knife--a beautiful silver knife, and it is so sharp that it will cut through anything. If he were only here I would give it to him."

When Buttercup in the dough trough heard this he opened the lid and looked out. "Peep! peep! here I am!" he cried.

"That is a lucky thing," said she, and she looked well satisfied. "But the knife is at the bottom of my bag and I am so old and stiff that you will have to crawl in yourself and get it."

Buttercup was willing, so into the bag he crawled. Then the old witch closed it and flung it over her shoulder, and away she went so fast that the good mother could neither stop her nor follow her.

The old witch went on and on through the forest, but after a while she began to feel very tired.

"How far is it to Snoring?" she asked of Buttercup in the bag.

"A good two miles," answered Buttercup.

"Two miles! That is a long way. I'll just lie down and sleep a bit, and do you keep as still as a mouse in the bag, or it will be the worse for you."

She tied the mouth of the bag up tight, and then she fell fast asleep, and snored till the leaves shook overhead.

When he heard that, Buttercup took from his pocket a little dull old knife that his father had given him, and managed to cut a slit in the sack and crawl out. Then he found a gnarly stump of a fir tree and put that in the bag in his place and ran away home to his mother, and all this while the old witch never stirred.

After a time, however, she began to stretch her bones and look about her. "Eh! Eh!" she sighed, "that was a good sleep I had, but now we'll be journeying on again."

She slung the bag on her back, but the sharp points of the root kept sticking into her at every step. "That boy looked plump and soft enough," she muttered to herself, "but now he seems all elbows and knees." Then she cried to the stump, "Hey! there, you inside the bag, do not stick your bones into me like that. Do you think I am a pin cushion?"

The stump made no answer for it could not, and besides it had not heard, and the old witch hobbled on muttering and grumbling to herself.

When she reached her house her ugly, stupid witch daughter was watching for her from the window. "Have you brought home anything to eat?" she called.

"Yes, I have brought home a fine plump boy," said the witch, and she threw the bag down on the floor and began rubbing her bruises. "I'm half dead with carrying him, too."

"Let me see," cried the daughter, and she untied the mouth of the sack and looked in. "A boy!" she cried. "This is no boy, but only an old stump of a fir tree."

"Stupid you are, and stupid you will be," cried the witch. "I tell you it is a boy and a good fat boy at that."

"I tell you it is not," said the girl.

"I tell you it is." The old witch took up the sack and looked into it, and there, sure enough, was only an old stump that she had broken her back carrying home. Then she was in a fine rage. "How he got away I don't know, but never mind! I'll have him yet whether or no."

So the next morning while the good woman on the other side of the forest was making her beds she heard Sharptooth begin to bark.

"Run, Buttercup, and see who is coming," she called.

"Mother, it is the same old woman who was here yesterday."

"Quick! Jump into the clock case, and do not dare to so much as stir a finger until she has gone."

Buttercup ran and hid himself in the clock case, and presently there was a knock at the door and the old witch looked into the room.

"Good morning, daughter."

"Good morning, mother."

"May I come in and rest my poor old bones for a minute?"

"Come in, in heaven's name."

The old witch came in and sat down as near the dough trough as she dared.

"Daughter, I have journeyed far and I would be glad of a bit of bread to eat even if it is only the crust."

Well, she might have that and welcome, so the good woman went to the dough trough to get a piece, for that was where she kept it. No sooner had she opened the lid than the old witch was close behind her, looking over her shoulder, and she was disappointed enough when she found that no Buttercup was there.

However, she sat down again with the piece of bread in her hand and began to munch and mumble it, though she had no liking for such dry food as that.

"Is your little boy Buttercup at home to-day?" she asked.

"No. He has gone with his father to catch some trout for dinner."

"That is a pity," said the old witch, "for I brought a present for him in my bag. I brought him a silver fork, and it is such a dear little, pretty little fork that every bite it carries to your mouth tastes better than what the king himself has to eat."

When Buttercup heard that he could no longer keep still in the clock case. He must have that pretty little fork. "Peep! peep!" he cried, "here I am in the clock case." And he opened the door and jumped out.

"That is well," said the old witch, "but I am too old and stiff to bend over and you must crawl into the sack yourself to get the fork."

Before his mother could stop him Buttercup was in the sack, and the old woman had closed the mouth of it, had swung it over her shoulder and was out of the house and off. There was no use in running after her; she went so fast.

After while she was well in the forest, and then she did not hurry so.

"How far is it to Snoring now, you in the bag?" she asked.

"Oh, a mile and a half at least."

"That is a long way for old bones," said the witch. "I'll just sit down and rest a bit; but mind you, no tricks to-day, for I shall stay wide awake this time."

So she sat down by the road with her back against a tree. Then first she yawned, and next she nodded, and then she was asleep and snoring so that the very rocks around were shaken.

When Buttercup heard that, he whipped out his little knife and cut a slit in the sack and crawled out. Then he put a great heavy stone in the sack and ran away home as fast as his legs would carry him.

After while the old witch began to stretch and yawn. "Well, it's time to be journeying on if we would reach Snoring by daylight," she said, and she did not know she had been asleep at all. She picked up the bag, and whew! but it was heavy. "This boy is fat enough to break a body's back," said she. "He ought to make good eating." But at every step the stone bounced against her ribs till she was black and blue. "Hi! there, you inside the sack, can't you keep a little quieter?" she asked. But the stone made no answer, for it could not.

After a time the old witch reached her house, and her fat ugly daughter came running to meet her.

"Did you catch the same boy?" asked the girl.

"The very same, and fatter than ever," answered the witch, and she threw the bag down on the floor, bump!

"Oh, let me see him." And the witch girl put her hand on the bag.

"Let it alone!" screamed the witch mother. "If you go goggling at him again you'll turn him into a stick or a stone or something, as you did before. Put on a kettle of water, and as soon as it is hot I'll empty him into it."

The witch girl did as she was told, and every time she went past the sack she gave it a poke with her foot. "The boy may be fat," she said, "but he's tough enough to break a body's teeth in the eating."

When the water began to boil she called her mother, and the old witch picked up the sack intending to empty Buttercup into the pot, but instead the great stone rolled into it, ker-splash! and the boiling water flew all about. It flew on the old witch and burned her so that she stamped about the kitchen gnashing her teeth with rage. The fat daughter was so frightened she ran out and hid in the stable until all was quiet again. "Never mind!" said the old witch. "I'll have the boy to-morrow for sure." So the next day she took up the bag and started off for the third time through the forest.

The good mother was scrubbing her pans when Sharptooth began to bark outside. "Run, Buttercup, and see who is coming now."

"Mother, it is the same old witch who has been here twice before."

"Quick, quick! Hide in the cellar way, and try not to breathe until she has gone."

Buttercup ran and hid himself in the cellar way, and he was scarcely there before there was a knock at the door and the old witch pushed it open and looked in.

"May I come in and rest a bit?"

"Come in, in heaven's name."

The old witch stepped in and looked all about her.

"I would like to know what time it is."

"Well, look for yourself; there stands the clock."

The old witch went close to it and took the chance to peep inside the case, but no little boy was there. Then she sat down near the door.

"Is your little boy Buttercup at home to-day?"

The mother said, "No, he has gone to the mill with his father."

"That is a pity," said the old witch, "for I have a pretty little spoon in my bag that I meant to give to him, and it is such a smart little spoon that if you do but stir your porridge with it, it changes it into something so delicious that the princess herself would be glad to eat it."

When Buttercup in the cellar way heard that he wanted the spoon so badly that he could stay hidden no longer. "Peep! peep! Here I am," said he.

"I am glad of that," said the witch, "for I had no wish to take the spoon home again; but you will have to crawl into the sack yourself to get it, for I am too old and stiff."

In a moment Buttercup was in the sack, and in another moment the old witch had swung it over her back and was making off as fast as her legs would carry her. This time she neither stayed nor stopped, but went straight on home, and flung the sack on the floor with Buttercup in it.

"Did you get him this time?" asked the girl.

"Yes, I did," said the old witch, "and there he is, as plump as any young chicken. Now I'll be off to ask the guests, and do you put him in the pot and make a nice stew of him."

As soon as she had gone the witch girl opened the sack and told Buttercup to come out. "Now put your head on the block, Buttercup," she said, "so that I may chop it off."

"But I do not know how," said Buttercup.

"Stupid! It is easy enough; anyone would know how to do that."

"Then show me how, and I will hold the ax for you."

The stupid witch girl put her head on the block, and as soon as she did that, Buttercup cut it off. He put the head on the pillow of the bed and drew the coverlid up about it and then it looked exactly as though the witch girl were lying there asleep, but the body of her he popped into the pot of boiling water. Then he climbed up on the roof and took the fir tree stump and the stone with him.

And now home came the old witch again and all her troll friends with her, and they were an ugly looking set all together.

They went stamping into the house and the old witch began to bawl for her daughter, but there was no answer. She looked about her and spied the head there on the pillow with the covers drawn up about it. "So there you are!" cried the old witch. "Well, if you are too lazy to get up and eat your dinner, you will have to be content with what we leave." Then she picked up a big spoon and tasted the broth.

"Good, by my troth,
Is Buttercup broth,"

said she, and smacked her lips.

"Good, by my troth,
Is witch daughter broth,"

sang Buttercup out on the roof.

"Who was that?" asked the witch.