Chapter I: Front Matter

THE YOUNG LORD SAW A CHARMING GIRL SEATED AMONG THE BRANCHES.]

FRENCH
FAIRY TALES

TRANSLATED BY
M. CARY

ILLUSTRATED BY
E. BOYD SMITH

NEW YORK
THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1887 AND 1903, BY
THOMAS Y. CROWELL AND COMPANY

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

The young readers into whose hands this book may come, will care little for a preface which only keeps them from the entertainment which they have learned unfailingly to expect from such stories. But their elders have rights which the purveyors of folk-stories are bound to respect; for these popular tales, or old wives’ fables, while losing none of their popularity in the nursery, have descended thence, and found a place also in the parlor and the study. They are like the rough little box which the kind fairy has given to the little brother, and at which his elders at first look with disdain, until, when it has been opened, and fold after fold of rich stuff has tumbled out of it, they value it highly, for all its outward roughness, and even would despoil the youngest of his magic prize. The fairy stories, which had hitherto been only food for childish entertainment, became, in the hands of the brothers Grimm and the philologians and literary students who succeeded them, the foundation of a science rich in conclusions respecting portions of human history anterior to or unrepresented in more artificial literary memorials.

It is not possible, in an introductory page or two, to say anything of all that the study of such stories and of their transmission has added to the sum of modern learning, nor of the light they throw on peasant character; but it is only justice to readers who approach these studies from this point of view, with a more or less scientific interest in studies of folk-lore, to state the sources whence the tales in this collection have been translated, and to attest the fidelity of the translation. Of these stories,--derived from the French provinces or, in one or two cases, colonies,--the first part, extending to page 192, have been selected and translated from the pages of the admirable French folk-lore journal, “Mélusine,” of which the first volume appeared in 1878, the second in 1884 and 1885, the third in 1886 and 1887; the remaining stories have been selected and translated from Paul Sébillot’s “Contes des Provinces de la France” (Paris, 1884). Scrupulous care has been taken to preserve a note of the sources of the stories.

Naturally some slight verbal changes have here and there been necessary; but these have been few in number. In all other passages, a scrupulous fidelity to the original has been aimed at, and has, I believe, been attained.

J. F. JAMESON.

Contents

PAGE

THE LEGEND OF THE LAKE OF ISSARLÈS 1

THE FAIRIES AND THE TWO HUNCHBACKS 6

THE SKILFUL THIEF 8

THE KING’S THREE SONS 23

THE HARE, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX 33

PAPA TIGER AND PAPA SHEEP 52

JOHN BIT-OF-A-MAN 60

LONG TIME 65

SKILFUL JOHN 69

THE TAILOR AND THE HURRICANE 72

THE BAKER’S THREE DAUGHTERS 85

YOU MUST NOT WORK ON SUNDAY 102

DESTINY 106

THE LITTLE ANT THAT WAS GOING TO JERUSALEM,
AND THE SNOW 110

THE MOST POWERFUL HUSBAND IN THE WORLD 114

THE NINE BROTHERS, WHO WERE CHANGED TO SHEEP,
AND THEIR SISTER 117

THE KING AND HIS THREE SONS 127

FANCH SCOUARNEC 130

THE ROEBUCK HUNT 148

PIERRE AND HELENE 153

THE THREE EGGS 166

THE THREE BROTHERS 176

THE COCK’S WIFE 189

THE CASTLE HUNG IN THE AIR 193

THE TWO SOLDIERS 204

THE THREE BROTHERS AND THE GIANT 210

THE FAIRY AND THE DAUGHTER OF THE EARTH 220

SISTER AND HALF-SISTER 232

THE FAIRIES’ SHIP 237

THE SHEPHERD WHO WON THE KING’S DAUGHTER BY A
SINGLE WORD 246

THE ENCHANTED RING 251

THE SIREN OF LA FRESNAYE 259

THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK 267

THE PRINCESS OF TRONKOLAINE 276

French Fairy Tales

THE LEGEND OF THE LAKE OF ISSARLÈS

Northwest of Ardèche, on the limits of Haute-Loire and Lozère, in the commune of Issarlès, may be seen one of the largest lakes formed by the volcanic craters of the Northern Cévennes. The origin of the lake is thus told in a legend heard from an old woman of Sainte Eulalie, the next commune to Issarlès.

There was, in old times, not far from where I live, a large parish with houses scattered far apart in the rural portions, and containing only one town, named Issarlès. One day a poor man came to this parish to ask for alms. He began in the country. At the first house to which he came, he cried, “Give me something, for I am hungry.” “Oh! my friend, I have nothing for you,” answered the woman, pityingly. “Have you not even a few potatoes in your pot?” said he. “Yes,” replied the woman, “there are two, if you want them.” The poor man took one and departed. Then he walked on, and came to another house. “Give me something, for the love of God,” he cried. The woman rose, and said, “My friend, we have no bread, but the dough is in the tray all ready; the oven is almost warm enough; we shall soon bake it, and then we will give you some sweet bread; sit down and wait.” The poor man said, “Your bread is baked.” The woman said to her husband, “My husband, the poor man says that our bread, which is in the tray, is already baked. How can that be? We have not yet put it in the oven.” The husband looked into the tray and saw the bread already baked, and near the large loaves he saw a small sweet loaf. “What you have declared is really so,” said he to the poor man; “the bread is baked without having been in the oven. It is God’s doing. Sit down at our table, and eat with us.” The poor man refused. “Then take,” said the husband, “the loaf that my wife wished to prepare for you, and which is already baked as well as the large loaves.” The poor man took the loaf, and before leaving, said to the husband, “In a little while you will hear a great noise; don’t be frightened.”

At some distance from the house, the poor man met two little children playing by the roadside. “What are you doing, my children?” “We are playing.” “Are you hungry?” “No.” “If you want some sweet bread, I will give you some.” “Hungry or not, we can eat it very well,” said the children. The poor man divided his sweet loaf, and gave half of it to each of the children, who ran off with it to their mother. “Mamma, a poor man gave us each half a sweet loaf,” they cried. Their mother scolded them. “Never take bread from beggars,” she said; “it is not clean; I forbid your eating it.” “Mamma, it is very good; it is better than our bread.” “I forbid your eating it; I do not know the person who gave it to you,” and saying this, she took the pieces of bread from the children’s hands and threw them into the chicken coop.

A few moments after, the poor man appeared at the door of this woman’s house, which was at the entrance of the town. The children pointed him out to their mother, who said, “You begging! you, who can give bread to the children you find on the road! You had better keep your bread; it is not fit food for my children. For me, I have nothing to give to those who themselves can give.” The poor man went away; he entered the town, begging from house to house, and everywhere was driven away. He was about to leave the town, when in the suburbs, he saw two little houses, and thought he would make one more attempt, by applying there. A woman came out of the first house to which he went, and said, “I have no bread, I have only leaven; do you want some? I will give you some.” “I cannot eat leaven,” replied the poor man. Now, this woman told a lie, for she had bread, but did not wish to give him any.

The poor man went a few steps further on, and soon came to the second house. A woman was seated by the wall, milking a goat. “I am very thirsty,” said the beggar; “would you give me a little milk?” “Ah! my friend,” she answered, “I will give you all my goat’s milk, if you want it.” “I do not want all the milk of your goat; a little will be enough for me.” The woman went to get a glass; filled it with milk, and offered it to the beggar, saying, “Will you dip some bread in it?” “No; I am not hungry; I am only thirsty, and I have more than enough to drink.” Then he drank, and as the woman continued to milk her goat, Jesus drew near to her (for the beggar was Jesus), and said: “You will soon hear a great noise, but no matter how loud it may be, or from what direction it may come, do not move; continue milking your goat.”

At that very moment, a tremendous noise burst upon them. It was the town of Issarlès sinking down into the yawning earth. The woman half turned her head to see whence the noise came; she had no sooner done so than she was swallowed up with the town. The ruins were immediately covered up by a sheet of water.

On a clear day one may see to the bottom of the lake the ruins of the town of Issarlès, and distinguish clearly by the side of a small house, the last in the town, a woman, who with both her hands is milking a goat. I have seen her many a time when I was passing along the shore.

VICTOR SMITH.

THE FAIRIES AND THE TWO HUNCHBACKS

A STORY OF PICARDY

Once there were three fairies who used to amuse themselves by dancing round and round, and singing, “Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.” One day a little hunchback surprised them at this sport, and without being afraid, he took them by the hand and began to dance with them, repeating also, “Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.” He danced so prettily that the fairies were charmed, and to reward him took away his hunch. Perfectly happy, he returned home, constantly singing as he went, “Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday.” On the road he met another little hunchback whom he knew. The latter was greatly astonished to see his friend relieved of his hunch, and said: “How did you manage it? Your hunch is gone.” “It is all very easy,” replied the other; “you have only to go to a certain wood, when you will find some fairies; you must dance with them and sing, ‘Sunday, Monday; Sunday, Monday,’ and they will take away your hunch.”

“I will go, I will go at once,” cried the little hunchback, and started immediately for the wood to which he had been directed, where, sure enough, he found the three fairies. Without hesitating, he took them by the hand and danced with them, repeating, “Sunday, Monday.” But unhappily for him, he added, “Tuesday, Wednesday.” The fairies, indignant, added to his hunch that of the first hunchback, so that he was a fright to behold, so frightful that if you had seen him you would have run away from him. And then?--And then the cock crew, and it was day.

Told by Auguste Gourdin, miller, aged 63, at Warloy-Baillon (Somme).

HENRI CARNOY.

THE SKILFUL THIEF

A BRETON STORY

There was once upon a time a poor man who had two children, a boy and a girl, Efflam and Hénori.

One day the father said to Efflam: “My son, now that you are grown up, you should be able to get your own living and take care of yourself. Suppose you go to Paris and seek your fortune.”

“Very well, father,” said Efflam; “I will go to Paris and seek my fortune.”

And so the next day Efflam set out for Paris. He traveled and traveled, always on foot. Once night surprised him in the midst of a deep forest. He got up in a tree to wait for the morning, and to keep himself safe from the wild beasts. Soon three robbers laden with booty stopped under the tree. They lifted a large stone and deposited their booty in a cavern whose entrance the stone had concealed. Then they seated themselves under the tree to eat and drink, meanwhile talking of their adventures. Efflam listened, and this is what he heard:--

“I,” said one of the robbers, “have a marvelous cloak which carries me through the air, wherever I wish to go.”

“I,” said the second, “have a hat which renders me invisible, and when I have it on my head I can go everywhere without being seen by any one.”

“And I,” said the third, “have some boots with which I can walk as swiftly as the wind blows.”

“If I could have the cloak, the hat, and the boots, or only one of the three,” said Efflam to himself, “that would easily make my fortune; but how can I manage it?” Then he turned it over in his head, and hit upon this plan: that, by letting himself down through the leafy branches, he would fall into the midst of the robbers and shout, “Stop, thief!” so as to make them believe that the devil or the police were at their heels. No sooner said than done, and the three robbers, seized with fright, ran off as fast as they could, leaving on the ground the cloak, the hat, and the boots.

Efflam seized the three talismans, and, having put on the boots, he soon found himself in Paris. As he was walking along the streets, astonished at the beautiful things he saw on all sides, he noticed a jeweler’s shop which seemed finer and richer than the others, and was tempted to take from it a few articles of value. He put on his magic hat, made his way into the shop without being perceived by any one, and took everything he pleased. Afterward, in order to get ready money, he sold in another shop the articles he had obtained in this way. Meeting a soldier from his own country, he led him a gay life for several days. When the money was all gone, Efflam was at no loss to know how to get more. One day he saw at a market a vender of earthen vases who was doing a good business, and put his money, as he received it, into a wooden chest beside him. “I must take away his chest,” said Efflam to himself, and putting on his hat, he easily carried off the chest, took it where no one could see him, broke it open, took the money which was in it, and once more lived a gay life while it lasted.

Another day, as he was taking a walk through one of the squares of the city, he overheard three men talking together about the king’s treasure. They were saying that they thought it a needless piece of caution on the king’s part to place sentinels near the tower which contained his treasure, because, since there were neither doors nor windows to this tower, and the walls were so thick and solid, it was impossible to make the slightest breach in it. “Very good,” said Efflam to himself; “now I know where the king’s treasure is.” Then, addressing the three men, he said, “So you think it impossible to steal the king’s treasure?” “Why, yes,” they answered. “Well, I, for one, do not think so.” And with that he left them. When night had come, he repaired to the foot of the tower, and having spread his magic cloak on the ground, he seated himself on it, put on his hat, and said, “Cloak, do your duty, and bear me immediately into the king’s treasure-chamber.” This was immediately done without being perceived by the guards or any one else. He went out in the same manner, with his pockets filled with gold and silver. The next night, and the next, and every night after that, he returned to the attack, and always with the same success. Having now become rich in a short time, he bought a palace, and sent for his father and sister. On the day on which they were to arrive he went to meet them with a fine carriage drawn by two horses. When he had got about three miles from the city, seeing his father and sister coming along the road on foot, and poorly clad, he ordered his coachman to return to his house with one of the horses, and bring him a box which he had forgotten and left on the table in his chamber, and which he wanted very much. He would wait for him, he said, in a certain house by the roadside.

The coachman unhitched one of the horses and set off. Efflam then took his father and sister into the house by the roadside, gave them changes of rich garments that he had brought for them in the carriage, and also to each of them a purse filled with gold, so that the coachman, on his return, should not take them for poor peasants, as they really were. The coachman returned, and said to his master, “I did not find the box in your chamber.” “Oh! I had it with me in my carriage and did not know it.” Then they returned to the city.

One day the father asked his son how he had managed to get so rich, and Efflam acknowledged to him that he had stolen the king’s treasure. “If you wish,” said the old man, “I will go with you, and between us we can bring away a larger sum.” “Very well,” said Efflam.

When night had come, they both placed themselves on the magic cloak, put both their heads in the magic hat, and were transported into the treasure-chamber; then they returned in the same manner, each bearing his load of money.

But the king perceived that his treasure was being stolen, and was very much astonished at it, for he never trusted any one with the key. Moreover, he saw no traces of any attempt to break in. Then he set traps around the vases which contained the silver and the gold, in order to catch the thief. And sure enough, the next night the father was caught. Finding he could not get away, and hoping at least to save his son, he said to him, “Cut off my head and take it away from here, with my clothes, so that I may not be recognized.” Efflam took his advice, cut off his head, and took it away to bury it in his garden. When the king came the next day to the treasure-chamber, he cried out with joy, on seeing there the lifeless body: “Aha! my thief is taken at last. Let us see who he is.” But neither he nor any one else could identify the body without a head, so that he was even more puzzled than ever. Then he published through the city that the thief had been caught, and that his body would be dragged on a hurdle through all the streets of the town. This was accordingly done, and four soldiers, two before and two behind, accompanied the body, with orders to listen attentively, and look well about them to see if any one cried or groaned or appeared distressed as they passed along. Efflam ordered his carriage early in the morning, and before setting out he told his neighbors and all in his house, that he was going to take his father to his own country, since he wished very much to return. This was to explain the disappearance of the old man. On getting about a mile from the city, he said to his servant as before, “Take one of the horses and return with all speed to the city, and bring my father his purse which he forgot when he came away.” The coachman took one of the horses and departed. Then Efflam saw a postman coming along down the road, and asked him if he was not very tired. “Not yet,” replied the man; “but I shall be before I have made my rounds, for I have a long way to go.” “If you wish,” said Efflam, “I will give you my horse and carriage.” “You are joking with me, my lord.” “I am not joking with you, and to prove it--here--take them.” Then Efflam got down from his carriage and almost forced the postman to mount, while he returned to the city quietly on foot. When he met his coachman coming again, he said: “Again I gave you a useless ride: my father had his purse in his pocket, and did not know it: at his age memory begins to fail. I have given him my carriage and horse that he may return to his own country, and I am hurrying back, for I have just remembered that I ought to be at the house to-day.” Accordingly he mounted the horse the coachman had ridden, and set off at a gallop. On reaching home he told his sister the whole affair, and advised her not to cry, or groan, or appear sad, nor even to remain out of sight, when the mutilated body of her father should pass by on the hurdle; for if she showed the slightest sign of grief, he would be lost, and she too. Soon the crowd was heard crying, “Here is the thief who stole the king’s treasure!” All the people ran to the doors of the houses, and a great crowd followed the headless body, and no one could say who he was. When they passed by Efflam’s house, he also was on his doorsteps, with his sister by his side. But Hénori, not being able to endure the sight, uttered a cry and ran into the house. Efflam followed her, and drawing his dagger he wounded her hand with it. Two soldiers presented themselves and said, “We have heard cries of grief in this house.” “Yes,” said Efflam; “it was my sister, who had just cut herself with my knife, and was crying out; see how it is bleeding.” And true enough, there was the poor girl all bleeding and crying. The soldiers withdrew.

This plan not having succeeded, the king thought of another. He had the body of the thief hung up on a nail fixed in the wall of his palace, and set guards to watch near by, feeling sure that when night came the friends and relatives of the thief would try to carry off his body. When Efflam saw this, he disguised himself as a wine merchant, loaded an ass with leather bottles of wine mixed with a narcotic, and went with it, accompanied by his sister, along under that side of the palace wall where the body of his father was suspended. With a movement of his shoulder, he made the bottles fall off, and one of them, which he had prepared for that purpose, came unstopped. He and his sister began to cry and call for help. The guards ran to them, helped them to reload their ass, and received for reward the bottle which had become unstopped in falling, but which, nevertheless, was still more than half full. Efflam and his sister then continued on their way. But they retraced their steps about a half-hour later, and found the guards stretched upon the ground and sleeping as soundly as if they were dead. “All right,” said they. Then they went to a monastery near by and pretended to sell them some excellent wine very cheap. By means of the wine they made the monks all sleep soundly, from the abbot to the porter, and took advantage of the opportunity to bury their father’s body in holy ground in the cemetery of the monastery. Then they changed the clothing of the monks and soldiers, so that the monks were dressed as soldiers, and the soldiers as monks. Next morning, when the hour for matins came, the monks dragged themselves to the chapel, only half awake and not seeing very clearly. The first one who perceived the singular dress of the abbot was at first utterly confounded. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he did not see well. But as he continued to see before him a soldier and not a monk, he touched his next neighbor with his elbow and said, “Do you see how our abbot is dressed? What does it mean?” The monk next him was in turn also greatly astonished, but, looking at those who stood on each side of the abbot, they discovered that they too were dressed like soldiers; then they looked at the whole line of monks opposite them on the other side of the choir; and at last they looked at each other, and found that all were in soldiers’ uniform. What could it mean? It was doubtless the work of the evil spirit! Then the chant and prayers ceased, and they began trying to unravel the mystery.

On the other hand, when the captain came in the morning to inspect the soldiers set to guard the body of the thief, he also was greatly astonished to find them all sleeping profoundly, and habited as monks. Worse still, the body of the thief was gone. He flew into a great passion, swore and raged, and kicked the soldiers till they awaked. The report spread rapidly through the city that the body of the thief who stole the king’s treasure had been carried off, and that the soldiers set to guard it had been found in the morning dead drunk, and disguised as monks; while the monks of the neighboring monastery, equally drunk, wore the uniform of the soldiers. It was undoubtedly a fresh trick of an accomplice of the thief who had been caught. It made a great stir in the city, and every one laughed heartily.

“I am mocked again,” said the king, when he heard what had taken place. “It must be acknowledged that this is a very skilful thief; but all the same, I mean to find out how far his skill goes, for I hope soon to foil it.” Then he caused notice to be given through the city that he would the next day exhibit in the public square before his palace a beautiful white goat of which he was very fond, and that if the thief could succeed in taking it away, it should be his.

“That’s good,” said Efflam to himself when he heard the notice. “The king’s white goat will be mine to-morrow before the sun goes down.”

Next day the white goat was in fact exhibited on the square in front of the king’s palace, and a great crowd gathered, curious to know how the thief would manage to take it away in spite of the soldiers who guarded it. The king himself was on the balcony with the queen, and surrounded by princes, generals, and courtiers.

Efflam put his magic hat on his head, and carried off the goat as easily as possible, and without any one’s seeing or knowing anything about it.

“I am mocked again!” cried the king, in vexation, when he saw that the goat had disappeared. “But who can this man be? He must be a great magician, for there is magic in all this. Never mind; I will not acknowledge myself beaten, and I propose to know how far this will go.”

Efflam had killed the king’s goat as soon as he reached home, and told his sister to use it for their own table as long as there was any of it, advising her to cook it in the greatest secrecy, and not to give the smallest portion of it to any other person, not even to a beggar.

Meanwhile the king thought of another means of testing the skill and cunning of the thief. He sent for a blind beggar, and told him to go and ask alms at the door of every house in the city, and to beg at each door for a bit of meat, which he should taste as soon as he received it. If any bit of goat’s flesh was given him, he should, with a piece of white chalk, make a cross on the door of the house where he had received it, and come at once and tell the king.

The beggar at once began his rounds. When he came to Efflam’s house, Hénori, who had doubtless forgotten her brother’s warning, or had no fear of being accused by a blind man who knew neither her nor her house, gave him a morsel of the king’s goat. The blind man recognized it as soon as he had tasted it, and, unknown to the young girl, who had gone back into the house as soon as she had ministered to his need, he marked the door with a white cross, and hastened at once to inform the king. The latter sent four soldiers to search the house, the door of which was marked with a white cross in chalk, with orders to bring to him immediately the inmates of the house. But Efflam had noticed the white cross on his door, and questioned his sister, to see if she had disobeyed him in anything. Hénori told him she had indeed given the remnant of their last meal to an old beggar who had excited her pity, but there was nothing to be feared from him, for he was blind. Efflam, without waiting to hear another word, got a bit of chalk and went all about the city drawing crosses on all the doors. The soldiers stopped at the first door where they saw a cross, exclaiming, “Here it is!” They entered and found two old people, husband and wife, and requested them to accompany them to the king’s palace. “What does the king want with us?” they asked, filled with astonishment. “You have stolen his treasure and his goat.” “How could we do it,” they cried, overcome with fright, “old and feeble as we are? It is more than six months since we have set foot out of our house.” The soldiers, seeing them so old and so helpless, looked at each other, and said, “These are not the right ones; that is evident: come, let us see if we do not find a cross on some other door.” So they went out, and found with surprise that the doors of all the houses in that quarter of the city were marked with similar crosses; so they went and told the king.

“What a man this thief is!” said the king; and began to devise at once some other means of catching him. The next day he caused notice to be given throughout the city that he would expose his royal crown on the public square in front of the palace, and that it should belong to the person who could steal it without being caught. When Efflam heard that, he said to himself, “His crown shall be mine as well as his goat.”

The royal crown was exhibited at the appointed time and place. A considerable crowd had assembled on the square, curious to see if the thief would succeed in carrying off this also. The king and his court were on the balcony of the palace, and a large number of soldiers mounted guard, with drawn swords, around the velvet cushion on which the crown set. But all these precautions were vain; and Efflam, wearing his magic hat, bore off the king’s crown as easily as he had carried away the goat. The old monarch, perceiving at last that he had to contend with the most cunning thief in his kingdom, who was evidently a great magician besides, perceived that it was useless to contend against him, and that it would be better to win him over and attach him to himself, than to persecute him. He then proclaimed that he would set his only daughter in the same place in the square where the white goat and the royal crown had been exposed, and that if the thief should succeed equally well in stealing her, he would give her to him for his wife.

He was by this time quite certain that the thief would stand this last test as well as all the others.

And true enough, Efflam bore off the princess in the same mysterious fashion, without any one knowing what had become of her.

Then when the king had returned to his palace, Efflam repaired thither also, accompanied by the princess, and reminded the old monarch of his promise. The latter did not hesitate to keep his word, and the marriage of Efflam and the princess was celebrated with pomp and solemnity.

Moreover, the king, who was a widower, took for his wife Hénori, the sister of his son-in-law, and for a whole month there were holidays and games and magnificent banquets every day.

Related in Breton, by Vincent Coat, a workman in a tobacco factory in Morlaix, Aug. 20, 1876.

THE KING’S THREE SONS;

OR,

THE HUNCHBACK AND HIS TWO BROTHERS

A BRETON STORY

Once upon a time there was a king who had three sons, two of whom were fine, handsome young men, and the third was a hunchback whose name was Alain. This last was not beloved by his father, who sent him off to the kitchen with the cooks, while the two older brothers ate with him at his own table and went with him everywhere.

One day the old king sent for his three sons, and said to them:--

“You see I am getting old, my children, and I want to spend the rest of my days in peace and quiet. I wish to give up my crown, with the administration of my kingdom, to that one of you three who will bring me the finest piece of linen. Set out, then, travel far away, and return in a year and a day.”

Thereupon the three brothers started off on three different routes. The two older brothers had each a fine horse to carry him, and pockets full of gold and silver. They went first to see their sweethearts and bid them good-by. But there they forgot their quest, and led gay lives as long as their money lasted.

The hunchback, who had received from his father only a six-franc piece, and no horse, walked and walked bravely on. When he was hungry he gnawed a crust of bread, gathered hazel-nuts, whortleberries, and wild mulberries from the bushes along the road, and drank out of the hollow of his hand from the wayside springs. One day as he was crossing a great moor he heard a clear, fresh voice singing an old song. He stopped to listen, and said, “I must see who it is that sings like that”; and he followed the sound of the voice.

He soon came upon a young girl of great beauty, who addressed him thus,--

“Good morning, Alain, youngest son of the king of France.”

“You know me, then?” asked the astonished prince.

“Yes, I know you; I even know where you are going and what you seek; your father has told you and your two brothers that he will give up his crown and his kingdom to that one of you three who will bring him the finest piece of linen: is it not so?”

“It is quite true,” replied Alain, more and more astonished.

“Well, your two brothers have gone to see their sweethearts, and are having a good time with them, without caring anything about the search for the fine linen. You, who have no lady-love, have resolutely set to work, and you deserve to succeed. Come with me to my castle, and I will tell you what to do.”

Alain followed her to what she called her castle, but which was only a miserable hut of mud and clay. He remained there some time with her, and, before he left, she gave him a little box, not larger than his fist, and said to him,--

“It is time for you to return home; take this little box, and present yourself with confidence before your father.”

Alain returned with his box. When he reached the court of his father’s palace, he saw his two brothers at the windows, quite happy and content with themselves. They had returned, with their horses laden with fine pieces of linen.

“See! Alain has come, too,” they cried; “he comes without the smallest piece of linen, as ugly and miserable as when he set out, and has not even lost his hunch by the way!”

The two elder brothers then spread out their linens before their father. They were very fine and expensive.

“And you, Alain,” said his father, “do you refuse to compete? for you have brought nothing.”

Then Alain drew the small box from his pocket, and presented it to his father, saying,--

“Take this box, my father, and open it.”

The old king took the box, opened it, and immediately there fell out of it a piece of white linen, smooth to the touch, soft and shining as silk. And for more than an hour, piece after piece fell out, so that the box seemed inexhaustible.

“Alain has won!” said the king. “My crown is his!”

“There is sorcery in this,” said the two elder brothers, much put out, “and there must be three trials.”

“I agree,” said the king, who was much displeased at the idea of leaving his crown to a hunchback.

“Give us another test,” they cried.

“Very well; to him who brings me the finest horse.”

And the three brothers set out, each by himself. The two older ones went, as before, to see their lady-loves, and the hunchback took once more the road across the moor, where he had met the beautiful young girl who had gained him his first victory. When, after much trouble, he reached it, he heard the same voice singing its song. “All’s well,” said he, comforted and full of hope. And he hastened toward the singer’s clay house.

“Good morning,” said he, as he entered; “I have come to see you again.”

“Good morning, young son of the king,” replied the young girl; “I know why you have come! Your brothers, beaten in the first contest, have demanded that there shall be three, and the second test is to bring to your father the finest horse.”

“That is true; but how can I get a fine horse without money?”

“You got the finest linen without money; why should you not also have the finest horse without money? Remain here with me until the time comes to return, and do not be at all uneasy.”

Alain took courage, and remained with the young girl. When the day arrived, she gave him another box, bidding him be sure not to open it until he should be in the courtyard of his father’s palace.

Then he departed. But he had not gone far when he yielded to curiosity. He opened his box to see what was in it; and immediately a beautiful horse jumped out,--swift as lightning,--and disappeared in a moment. And now, our young man began to cry. What should he do now? He resolved to return to the young girl, as he had not gotten very far from her house, and tell her of his misfortune. His kind friend gave him a second box, bidding him again not to open it until he should be in the court-yard of his father’s palace, and holding it between his knees.

This time he did not open it. When he reached the court of the palace, his two brothers had been there already some time, and each of them had a magnificent horse, of which he was very proud. When they saw Alain arrive, they cried,--

“Here is the hunchback, at last; but he has no horse!”

“I have a box, as before,” answered Alain, drawing his box from his pocket.

“Your fine horse is in that, no doubt,” said they.

“Perhaps,” said Alain.

“Open it, then, that we may see your mouse.”

Alain put his box between his knees, opened it, and immediately he found himself in the saddle on a superb horse with a golden bridle on his head, fiery and spirited, and with sparks flying from his four feet, his nostrils, and his eyes.

“Alain has won it this time, too,” cried the old king, filled with astonishment; and his victory was indeed so apparent that his brothers did not dream of disputing it. But they cried out spitefully: “Now for the third trial. What shall it be, father?”

“Well,” said the king, “this time to him who shall bring me the most beautiful princess.”

Then the three brothers set out again at once. The two elder ones went as before to see their fair ladies, and Alain returned to his mysterious friend in the great moor.

“Good morning, young son of the king,” said she, seeing him return. “Your father has said that his crown shall be given to that one of his three sons who shall bring him the most beautiful princess.”

“Yes,” said the prince, “and I do not even know a princess.”

“That makes no difference; stay here with me until the time comes to present yourself to your father, and have faith in me.”

So Alain remained again with his friend, and when the time was come, she said to him:--

“Here is a hen with a linen cloth on her back; return with it to your father’s house, and be very sure not to lose the hen and the linen also.”

“But shall I have no princess, then?”

“Go on with your hen, and trust me for the rest.”

So Alain set out with the hen. But as he was going through a dark forest, she flew away, and then he began to cry. Two princesses, one more beautiful than the other, suddenly appeared beside him. “Why do you weep thus?” said one of them to him.

“I have lost my hen!” said Alain.

“If that is all, be comforted; I will find her for you.”

And sure enough, the hen came back at a sign from the princess, and she still had her linen on her back. The most beautiful of the princesses touched her with the end of a white wand she had in her hand, and immediately she was changed into a fine gilded carriage drawn by six superb horses. Alain saw his hunch suddenly disappear, and found himself a very handsome young man, with magnificent princely clothes, and seated in the coach by the side of the less beautiful of the two princesses. The other, the more beautiful one, was seated on the coachman’s seat, holding the reins and driving the coach. They repaired in this state to the king’s palace. The two elder brothers had already arrived there, and were waiting for the hunchback at the windows, each having by his side a beautiful princess of whom he was very proud.

When Alain entered the court-yard with his splendid, shining coach and his two companions, it seemed as if the sun himself had driven in there in his chariot. The two elder brothers and their princesses, dazzled by so much light and beauty, and bursting with envy at seeing the state in which their youngest brother returned, covered their faces with their hands. The old king, formerly so cross and full of pains, brightened up again, and slowly descended to the court to receive Alain and his train.

“My crown and my kingdom are yours, my son Alain,” he cried.

Then he gave his hand to the princesses to help them alight and led them into the palace. The two elder princes and their princesses hid themselves for shame and envy.

However, they had to come to a great feast which the old king ordered to be prepared, and to which he invited all the court and the great men of his kingdom.

During the feast, Alain’s beautiful princess put into her apron a bit of each of the dishes served to her; seeing this, his brothers’ princesses imitated her. When all arose from the table, she said that she wished to make a little present to each guest, and even to the servants. And putting her right hand into her apron, which, with her left she held gathered up to her breast, she drew from it again and again gold rings, pearls, diamonds, and flowers, and distributed them freely, to the great astonishment and satisfaction of all.

The other two princesses wished to imitate her also in this; but, alas! instead of gold rings, pearls, diamonds, and lovely, sweet-scented flowers, they drew out of their aprons, only what they had put there--meat, sausages, and such eatables. Their fine clothes were all soiled by the grease and gravy which ran out of them. Attracted by the general bursts of laughter, the dogs and cats pursued them and tore their dresses to pieces. They ran away with their lovers, filled with rage and confusion, and appeared no more.

Soon afterward the marriage of Alain and his beautiful princess was celebrated, and the holidays and plays and feasts continued for a whole month.

Told by Marguerite Philippe, July 21, 1871.

F. M. LUZEL.

THE HARE, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX