Chapter V: Part 5

When the Queen came to look at what had been done, she was filled with wonder. Not only had all the flax in the room been spun, but she had never seen such smooth and even threads.

“To-morrow,” said she, “you shall spin the flax that is in the third room, and the day after you shall be married to my son.”

The third day all happened just as it had before. The girl was taken to the third room and it was even larger than the others. Scarcely had she been left alone when the three old women opened the door and came in.

“Remember your promise,” said they.

“I will remember,” answered the girl.

The old women took their places, and before night all the flax was spun. Then they rose. “To-morrow will be your wedding day, and we will be at the feast. If you keep your word to us, all will go well with you, but if you forget it, misfortune will surely come upon you.” Then they disappeared through the door as they had come, the eldest first.

When the Queen came that evening she was even more delighted than before. Never had she seen such thread, so smooth it was and even.

The girl was led down from the tower and dressed in silks and velvets and jewels, and when thus dressed she was so beautiful that the Prince was filled with love and joy at the sight of her. The next day they were married, and a grand feast was spread. To this feast all the noblest in the land were invited.

The bride sat beside her husband, and he could look at no one else, she was so beautiful.

Just as the feast was about to begin the door opened and the three old women who had spun the flax came in.

The Prince looked at them wonderingly. Never had he seen such hideous, ugly creatures before. “Who are these?” he asked of the girl.

“These,” said she, “are my three old aunts, and I have promised they shall sit at the table with us, for they have been so kind to me that no one could be kinder.”

The girl then rose, and went to meet the old women. “Welcome, my aunts,” she said, and led them to the table. The Prince loved the girl so dearly that all she did seemed right to him. He commanded that places should be put for the old women, and they sat at the table with him and his bride.

They were so hideous, however, that the Prince could not keep his eyes off them. At length he said to the eldest, “Forgive me, good mother, but why is your foot so broad?”

“From treading the thread, my son, from treading the thread,” she answered.

The Prince wondered; he turned to the second old woman. “And you, good mother,” he said, “why does your lip hang down?”

“From wetting the thread,” she answered. “From wetting the thread.”

The Prince was frightened. He spoke to the third old woman. “And you, why is your thumb so broad, if I may ask it?”

“From pressing and twisting,” she answered. “From pressing and twisting.”

The Prince turned pale. “If this is what comes of spinning,” said he, “never shall my bride touch the flax again.”

And so it was. Never was the girl allowed even to look at a spinning wheel again; and that did not trouble her, as you may guess.

As for the old women, they disappeared as soon as the feast was over, and no one saw them again, but the bride lived happy forever after.

GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

There was once a little girl whose hair was so bright and yellow that it glittered in the sun like spun-gold. For this reason she was called Goldilocks.

One day Goldilocks went out into the meadows to gather flowers. She wandered on and on, and after a while she came to a forest, where she had never been before. She went on into the forest, and it was very cool and shady.

Presently she came to a little house, standing all alone in the forest, and as she was tired and thirsty she knocked at the door. She hoped the good people inside would give her a drink, and let her rest a little while.

Now, though Goldilocks did not know it, this house belonged to three bears. There was a GREAT BIG FATHER BEAR, +and a middling-sized mother bear+, and a _dear little baby bear_, no bigger than Goldilocks herself. But the three bears had gone out to take a walk in the forest while their supper was cooling, so when Goldilocks knocked at the door no one answered her.

She waited awhile and then she knocked again, and as still nobody answered her she pushed the door open and stepped inside. There in a row stood three chairs. One was a GREAT BIG CHAIR, and it belonged to the father bear. And one was a +middling-sized chair+, and it belonged to the mother bear, and one was a _dear little chair_, and it belonged to the baby bear. And on the table stood three bowls of smoking hot porridge. “And so,” thought Goldilocks, “the people must be coming back soon to eat it.”

She thought she would sit down and rest until they came, so first she sat down in the GREAT BIG CHAIR, but the cushion was too soft. It seemed as though it would swallow her up. Then she sat down in the +middle-sized chair+, and the cushion was too hard, and it was not comfortable. Then she sat down in the _dear little chair_, and it was just right, and fitted her as though it had been made for her. So there she sat, and she rocked and she rocked, and she sat and she sat, until with her rocking and her sitting she sat the bottom right out of it.

And still nobody had come, and there stood the bowls of porridge on the table. “They can’t be very hungry people,” thought Goldilocks to herself, “or they would come home to eat their suppers.” And she went over to the table just to see whether the bowls were full.

The first bowl was a GREAT BIG BOWL with a GREAT BIG WOODEN SPOON in it, and that was the father bear’s bowl. The second bowl was a +middle-sized bowl+, with a +middle-sized wooden spoon+ in it, and that was the mother bear’s bowl. And the third bowl was a _dear little bowl_, with a _dear little silver spoon_ in it, and that was the baby bear’s bowl.

The porridge that was in the bowls smelled so very good that Goldilocks thought she would just taste it.

She took up the GREAT BIG SPOON, and tasted the porridge in the GREAT BIG BOWL, but it was too hot. Then she took up the +middle-sized spoon+ and tasted the porridge in the +middle-sized bowl+, and it was too cold. Then she took up the _little silver spoon_ and tasted the porridge in the _dear little bowl_, and it was just right, and it tasted so good that she tasted and tasted, and tasted and tasted until she tasted it all up.

After that she felt very sleepy, so she went upstairs and looked about her, and there were three beds all in a row. The first bed was the GREAT BIG BED that belonged to the father bear. And the second bed was a +middling-sized bed+ that belonged to the mother bear, and the third bed was a _dear little bed_ that belonged to the dear little baby bear.

Goldilocks lay down on the GREAT BIG BED to try it, but the pillow was too high, and she wasn’t comfortable at all.

Then she lay down on the +middle-sized bed+, and the pillow was too low, and that wasn’t comfortable either.

Then she lay down on the _little baby bear’s bed_ and it was exactly right, and so very comfortable that she lay there and lay there until she went fast asleep.

Now while Goldilocks was still asleep in the little bed the three bears came home again, and as soon as they stepped inside the door and looked about them they knew that somebody had been there.

“SOMEBODY’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR,” growled the father bear in his great big voice, “AND LEFT THE CUSHION CROOKED.”

“+And somebody’s been sitting in my chair+,” said the mother bear, “+and left it standing crooked+.”

“_And somebody’s been sitting in my chair_,” squeaked the baby bear, in his shrill little voice, “_and they’ve sat and sat till they’ve sat the bottom out_”; and he felt very sad about it.

Then the three bears went over to the table to get their porridge.

“WHAT’S THIS!” growled the father bear, in his great big voice, “SOMEBODY’S BEEN TASTING MY PORRIDGE, AND LEFT THE SPOON ON THE TABLE.”

“+And somebody’s been taking my porridge+,” said the mother bear in her middle-sized voice, “+and they’ve splashed it over the side+.”

“_And somebody’s been tasting my porridge_,” squealed the baby bear, “_and they’ve tasted and tasted until they’ve tasted it all up_.” And when he said so the baby bear looked as if he were about to cry.

“+If somebody’s been here they must be here still+,” said the mother bear; so the three bears went upstairs to look.

First the father bear looked at his bed. “SOMEBODY’S BEEN LYING ON MY BED AND PULLED THE COVERS DOWN,” he growled in his great big voice.

Then the mother bear looked at her bed. “+Somebody’s been lying on my bed and pulled the pillow off+,” said she in her middle-sized voice.

Then the baby bear looked at his bed, and there lay little Goldilocks with her cheeks as pink as roses, and her golden hair all spread over the pillow.

“_Somebody’s been lying in my bed_,” squeaked the baby bear joyfully, “_and here she is still!_”

Now when Goldilocks in her dreams heard the great big father bear’s voice she dreamed it was the thunder rolling through the heavens.

And when she heard the mother bear’s middle-sized voice she dreamed it was the wind blowing through the trees.

But when she heard the baby bear’s voice it was so shrill and sharp that it woke her right up. She sat up in bed and there were the three bears standing around and looking at her.

“Oh, my goodness me!” cried Goldilocks. She tumbled out of bed and ran to the window. It was open, and out she jumped before the bears could stop her. Then home she ran as fast as she could, and she never went near the forest again. But the little baby bear cried and cried because he had wanted the pretty little girl to play with.

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

A mother pig and her three little pigs lived together in a wood very happily all through the long summertime, but towards autumn the mother pig called her little ones to her and said, “My dear little pigs, the time has come for you to go out into the world and seek your own fortunes. You will each want to build a little house to live in, but do not build them of straw or leaves; straws are brittle and leaves are frail. Build your houses of bricks, for then you will always have a safe place to live in; you can go in and lock the door, and nothing can harm you.” She then bade the little pigs farewell, and away they ran out into the world to make their fortunes.

The first little pig had not gone far when he met a man with a load of straw. The straw looked so warm, and smelled so good that the little pig quite forgot what his mother had told him.

“Please, Mr. Man,” said the little pig, “give me enough straw to build a house to keep me warm through the long winter.”

The man did not say no. He gave the little pig all the straw he wanted, and then he drove on.

The little pig built himself a house of straw, and it was so warm and cosy that he was quite delighted with it. “How much better,” said he “than a house of cold hard bricks.”

So he lay there snug and warm, and presently the old wolf knocked at the door.

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in!” he cried.

“I won’t, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin,” answered the pig.

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

The little pig laughed aloud, for he felt very safe in his snug straw house.

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then blow my house in!” he cried.

Well, the old wolf _did_ huff and puff, and he _did_ blow the house in, for it was only made of straw, and then he ate up the pig.

The second little pig when he left the forest ran along and ran along and presently he met a man with a great load of leaves.

“Oh, kind Mr. Man, please give me some leaves to build me a little house for the winter time,” cried the piggy.

The man was willing to do this. He gave the pig all the leaves he wanted, and then he went on his way.

The pig built himself a house of leaves and it was even snugger and warmer than the straw house had been. “How silly my mother was,” said the pig, “to tell me to build a brick house. What could be warmer and cosier and safer than this.” And he snuggled down among the leaves and was very happy.

Presently along came the great wolf, and he stopped and knocked at the door.

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in!” he cried.

“I won’t, by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

The little pig laughed when he heard that, for the walls were thick, and he felt secure.

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then _blow_ my house in.”

So the wolf huffed, and he puffed, and he _did_ blow the house in, and he ate up the little pig that was inside of it.

Now the third little pig was the smallest pig of all, but he was a very wise little pig, and he meant to do exactly as his mother had told him to do. After he left the forest he met a man driving a wagon-load of straw, but he did not ask for any of it. He met the man with the load of leaves, but he did not ask for any of it. He met a man with a load of bricks, and _then_ he stopped and begged so prettily for enough bricks to build himself a little house that the man could not refuse him.

The pig took the bricks and built himself a little red house with them, and it was not an easy task either. When it was done it was not so soft as the little straw house, and it was not so warm as the little leaf house, but it was a very _safe_ little house.

Presently the old wolf came along and knocked at the door—rat-tat-tat!

“Piggy-wig, piggy-wig, let me in,” he called.

“I won’t, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin.”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

“Well, then huff, and then puff, and then blow my house in,” answered the pig.

So the old wolf huffed and he puffed, and he _puffed and he huffed_, and he +HUFFED AND HE PUFFED+ till he almost split his sides, and he just _couldn’t_ blow the house in, and the little pig laughed to himself as he sat safe and comfortable inside there.

The old wolf saw there was nothing to be done by blowing, so he sat down and thought and thought. Then he said, “Piggy-wig, I know where there is a field of fine turnips.”

“Where?” asked the little pig.

“Open the door and I will tell you.”

No, the little pig could hear quite well with the door closed.

“It is just up the road three fields away,” said the wolf, “and if you would like to have some I will come for you at six o’clock to-morrow morning, and we will go and dig them up together.”

“At six o’clock!” said the little pig. “Very well.”

Then the old wolf trotted off home, licking his lips, and he was well content, for he thought he would have pig for breakfast the next day.

But the next morning the little pig was up and astir by five o’clock. Off he trotted to the turnip field and gathered a whole bagful of turnips and was home again before the old wolf thought of coming.

At six o’clock the old wolf knocked at the door.

“Are you ready to go for the turnips, Piggy?” he cried.

“Ready!” answered the pig. “Why I was up and off to the field an hour ago and I have all the turnips I want, and I’m boiling them for breakfast.”

“That’s what you did!” said the wolf. And then he thought a bit. “Piggy, do you like fine ripe apples?” he asked.

Yes, the pig was very fond of apples.

“Then I can tell you where to find some.”

“Where is that?”

“Over beyond the hill in the squire’s orchard, and if you will play me no tricks I will come for you at five o’clock to-morrow, and we will go together, and gather some.”

Very well; the pig would be ready.

So the wolf trotted off home, and this time he was very sure that he would have a nice fat little piggy for breakfast the next morning.

The little pig got up at four o’clock the next day, and off he started for the orchard as fast as his four little feet would carry him. But the way was long, and the tree was hard to climb, and while he was still up among the branches gathering apples the old wolf came trotting into the orchard. The little pig was very much frightened, but he kept very still and hoped, up among the leaves, the wolf would not see him.

The wolf peered about, first up one tree and then up another, and finally he spied the piggy up among the branches.

“Why did you not wait for me?”

“Oh, I knew you would be along presently.”

“How soon are you coming down?”

“When I have picked a few more apples.”

The old wolf sat down at the foot of the tree, and the pig sat up among the branches crunching apples and smacking his lips.

“Are they good?” asked the wolf looking up; and his mouth watered.

Yes, they were very good.

“Could you not throw one down to me?”

Yes, the little pig could do that.

He picked the biggest, reddest apple he could, and then he threw it, but he threw it far off, and in such a way that it went bounding and rolling down the hill slope. The wolf bounded down the hill after it, and while he was catching it, the little pig climbed down the tree and ran safely home with his basketful of apples.

When the old wolf found the pig had tricked him again he was very angry. He was more determined than ever that he would catch the little pig. He trotted off to the little red house and knocked at the door.

“Did you get all the apples you wanted?” asked the wolf.

Yes, the little pig had all he wanted, and he was very much obliged to the wolf for telling him about the orchard.

“Listen, Piggy, there’s to be a fine fair over in the town to-morrow,” said the wolf. “Wouldn’t you like to go?”

Yes, the little pig would like very much to go.

“Very well,” said the wolf. “Then I will come for you at half-past three to-morrow, and we will go together.”

“Very well,” said the little pig. But long before half-past three the next day, piggy was off to the fair, and he took four bright silver pieces with him, for he wanted to buy himself a butter-churn. It did not take him long to buy the churn, and then he started home again, carrying it on his back.

But the wolf had learned a thing or two about the little pig’s tricks. He, too, started off to the fair long before half-past three, and so it was that the little pig was scarcely half-way home, and had just reached the top of a high hill, when he saw the wolf come trotting up the hill directly toward him. The little pig was terrified. He looked all around but he could not see any place to hide. He decided the best thing he could do was to get inside the churn. So he put it down and crept inside it. But the hill was very steep, and no sooner was the piggy inside the churn than it began to roll down the hill slope bumpety-bumpety-bump, over rocks and stones, leaping and bounding like a live thing. The little pig did not know what was happening to him. He began to squeal at the top of his voice.

The old wolf was half-way up the hill when he heard the noise. He looked up, and there was a great round thing coming bounding over the rocks straight at him, and squeaking and squeaking as it came. He gave one look and his hair bristled with fear, and with a howl he turned tail and ran home as fast as he could. He never stopped till he was safe inside his house, and had shut and locked the door behind him. There he crouched, trembling and wondering what would happen. But nothing happened, and all was quiet, so after awhile the wolf ventured out and ran over to the pig’s house.

“Piggy, Piggy! Are you in there?”

Yes, the little pig was sitting by the fire roasting apples.

“Then, listen while I tell you what happened to me on the way to the fair.” Then the wolf put his nose close to the crack of the door, and told the little pig all about the great round squealing thing that had chased him down the hill.

The little pig laughed and laughed. “And I can tell you exactly what the great squealing thing was; it was a churn I had bought at the fair, and I was inside it.”

When the old wolf heard this he was so furious that he determined to have the little pig whether or no, even if he had to climb up on the roof and down the chimney to get him. He stuck his sharp nails in between the bricks of the house and climbed right up the side of it and onto the roof. Then he climbed up on the chimney and slid down it into the fire-place.

But the little pig had heard what he was doing, and was ready for him. He had a great pot of boiling water on the fire, and when he heard the wolf slipping and scrabbling down the chimney he took the lid off the kettle, and plump! the old wolf fell right into the boiling water. Then the little pig clapped the lid tight down over him, and that was the end of the wolf.

But the little pig lived on in peace and plenty forever after, and if any other wolf ever came along to bother him I never heard of it.

THE GOLDEN KEY

It was winter, and a little lad had gone out into the forest to gather wood to keep the fire going at home. As there was snow upon the ground he took his little sledge with him, for he could carry home a larger load on the sledge than on his back.

He gathered together a heap of fallen branches, and then piled them neatly on the sledge, putting the larger pieces at the bottom. Before he had finished the task his fingers were almost frozen, for he had no mittens. “Before I start to drag my sled home,” said he to himself, “I will build a fire and warm my hands a bit.”

He took a stick, and cleared away some of the snow, so as to have a place to build the fire. When he had done this he saw a little golden key lying there on the ground. The little lad picked it up, wondering. “Wherever there is a key, there must be a lock,” he said.

He began to scrape away the earth, and presently he found a curious looking chest made of iron inlaid with silver. There were words written on the lid of the chest, but the little boy could not read them.

He lifted the chest out from the earth, and it seemed to him that something was stirring inside of it. Then a little thin voice, as thin as a thread, cried to him. “Let me out! Let me out, and I will make your fortune.”

The little boy was very much surprised. The chest seemed too small for any living being to be in it.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Open the chest and see. If you will only let me out you will never be sorry.”

The little boy put the golden key in the lock and it fitted exactly. He turned it round and the lock flew back. But as to what was in the chest you will have to wait until he lifts the lid before you can see.

MOTHER HULDA

There was once a widow who had two daughters; the elder of the girls was cross and ugly, but the mother loved her dearly because she was exactly like herself, and also because she was her own daughter. The younger girl was only her stepdaughter, and because of this, and also because the girl was good and pretty the mother hated her, and did all she could to make her miserable.

One day the good daughter sat by the well spinning, and as she spun she wept because she was so unhappy. The tears blinded her eyes, and presently she pricked her finger, and a drop of blood fell on the flax. The girl was frightened, for she feared her stepmother would scold her when she saw the flax, so she stooped over the edge of the well to try to wash the blood off it. But the spindle slipped from her hand and sank down and down through the water until it was lost to sight.

That was worse than ever; the girl did not know what her stepmother would do to her when she heard the spindle had been lost down the well. Still she was obliged to confess.

The widow was indeed very angry.

“You good-for-nothing!” she cried. “You are the trouble of my life. Out of my sight, and do not dare to return until you can bring the spindle with you,” and she gave the girl a push so that she almost fell over.

The girl was so frightened and unhappy that she ran out of the door; without stopping to think, she jumped into the well. Down, down she sank, through the waters, just as the spindle had done, and when she reached the bottom she found herself in a broad green meadow with a road leading across it.

The girl followed the road, and presently she came to a baker’s oven that stood beside the way, and it was full of bread. The girl was about to pass by, but the loaves inside called to her, “Take us out! Take us out! If we are left in the oven any longer we will burn.”

She was surprised to hear the bread speak to her, but she opened the door and drew the loaves out, and set them neatly on end to cool. Then she went on.

A little farther, she came to an apple-tree. It was so loaded down with fruit that the branches bent with the weight of it.

“Shake me! Shake me!” cried the apple-tree. “My apples are ripe and my boughs are like to break with the weight of them.”

The girl shook the apple-tree till the apples fell about her in a shower. She piled the apples neatly about the tree and went on her way.

After awhile she came to a little house, and an ugly old woman with long yellow teeth was looking out of the window. The girl was frightened at the old woman’s looks, and was about to turn away, but the woman called to her, “Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. I need a serving-maid. Come in, and if you serve me faithfully I will reward you well.”

The girl did not feel afraid any longer. She opened the door and went in.

The old woman took her upstairs and showed her a great feather bed. “I am Mother Hulda,” said she. “It is I who send out the frost and snow over the world. Every day you must give my bed a good beating. Then, when the feathers fly, it snows upon the earth.”

The girl stayed with Mother Hulda many months. Every day she gave the bed such a good beating that the feathers flew, and there was much snow that year. Mother Hulda was very much pleased with her. She was kind to her, and the girl had all she wanted to eat, and that of the best, and a comfortable bed to sleep in; but all the same, by the time the winter was over she began to feel sad and dull. She longed to see her home and her mother and sister, too, even though they were unkind to her.

“Now I see it is time for you to go back to the earth again,” said Mother Hulda. “You have served me well and faithfully, and you shall be rewarded as I promised you.”

She then opened a closet door and brought out the girl’s spindle and gave it to her. After that she took the girl by the hand and led her out of the house and along a road to a great gate that stood open.

“There lies your way,” said Mother Hulda.

The girl passed out through the gate, and as she did so a shower of gold fell all about her like rain, and stuck to her so that she glittered from head to foot with gold; even her shoes and her clothes were golden.

“That is my reward to you because you have been a good servant,” cried Mother Hulda. Then the gate closed, and the girl ran along the road and quickly came to the house of her stepmother.

As she entered the gate the cock crowed loudly, “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Our golden girl’s come home again.”

She entered the house, and now her mother and sister were glad to see her because she was covered with gold. They asked her where she had been and who had given her all that treasure.

The girl told them. Then they were filled with envy.

“Here! Take your spindle,” cried the widow to her own daughter. “Throw it in the well and jump down after it. If Mother Hulda has rewarded your sister in this way what will she not do for you? No doubt you will come home all covered with diamonds and rubies.”

The ugly girl took her spindle and threw it down the well, as her mother bade her, and jumped in after it. Down, down she went, just as her sister had done, and there was the green meadow with the road leading across it.

The girl hurried along the road, for she was in haste to reach Mother Hulda’s house and get a reward, and presently she came to the oven.

“Take us out! Take us out!” cried the loaves inside. “We will burn if we are left in here any longer.”

“Why should I blacken my hands for you?” cried the girl. “Stay where you are, and if you burn no one will be the worse for it but yourselves.” And so saying she went on her way.

A little farther she came to the apple-tree, and its boughs were bent with the weight of the fruit it bore.

“Shake me! Shake me!” cried the apple-tree. “My fruit is ripe, and my boughs are like to break with the weight of it.”

“Not I!” cried the girl. “I will not shake you. Suppose one of the apples should fall upon my head. Your boughs may break for all of me!” And so she went on her way, munching an apple that she had picked up from off the ground.

It was not long before she came to Mother Hulda’s house, and there was Mother Hulda herself looking out of the window. The ugly girl was not afraid of her and her long teeth, for the good sister had already told her about them. She marched up to the door and opened it as bold as bold.

“I have come to take service with you,” she said, “and to get the reward.”

“Very well,” answered Mother Hulda. “If you serve me well and faithfully the reward shall not be lacking.”

She then took the ugly girl upstairs and showed her the bed, and told her how she was to shake and beat it. Then she left her there.

The ugly girl began to beat the bed, but she soon tired of it and came downstairs and asked if supper were ready. Mother Hulda frowned, but she said nothing, and she gave the girl a good supper of bread and meat.

The next day the ugly girl hardly beat the bed at all, and the next day it was still worse. At the end of the week hardly a flake of snow had floated out over the world.

“You will never do for me,” said Mother Hulda. “You will have to go.”

“Very well,” answered the girl. “I am willing, but give me my reward first.”

“Yes, you shall have your reward,” said Mother Hulda, “and you deserve it.”

She opened the closet and took out the spindle and gave it to her, and led her along the road to the open gate. The girl was very much pleased. “Now in a moment,” thought she, “I will be all covered with gold the way my sister was, unless I am covered with diamonds and rubies.”

“There lies your way,” cried Mother Hulda.

The girl ran through the gate, but instead of gold or precious stones, a shower of soot fell over her so that she was black from head to foot.

“That is the reward of your services,” cried Mother Hulda to the girl, and then she banged the gate and locked it so that the girl could not come back.

So the lazy daughter ran home, crying, and as she entered the gate the cock crowed loudly, “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Our sooty girl’s come home again.”

And try as she might the ugly girl could never get the soot entirely off her. But as to the good sister she was married to a great nobleman, and lived happy ever after.

THE SIX COMPANIONS

A certain man named John had been a faithful soldier, and had served the King all through the war, and had been wounded, too; but when the war came to an end and he was discharged he only received three pieces of silver as payment.

“That is a mean way to treat a fellow,” said John. “But never mind! If I can only get the right sort of friends to help me we will get all the King’s treasure from him before we are done.”

So he shouldered his knapsack and off he set into the world to find the right sort of friends to help him do this.

He walked along and walked along till he came to a wood, and there was a man pulling up trees by the roots as though they were no more than grasses.

“You are the very man for me,” said John. “Come along with me and we will make our fortunes.”

The man was willing. “But wait,” said he, “until I tie these fagots together and take them home to my mother.”

He laid six of the trees together and twisted the seventh around them to hold them. Then he walked off with them on his shoulder as easily as though they were nothing.

When he came back he and the soldier started out in search of their fortunes.

They had not gone far when they came to a hunter who had raised his gun to his shoulder and was taking careful aim. The soldier looked about over the meadows, but could see nothing to shoot.

“What are you aiming at?” asked he.

“Two miles away there is a forest,” said the man. “In the forest is an oak tree. On the top-most leaf of that oak tree there is a fly. I am going to shoot out the left eye of that fly.”

“Come along with me,” said the soldier, “we three will certainly make our fortunes together.”

Very well; the hunter was willing. So he shouldered the gun and off he tramped alongside of the other.

Presently they came to seven mill-wheels, and the sails were turning merrily, and yet there was not a breath of wind stirring. “That is a curious thing!” said the soldier. “Now what is turning those sails I should like to know.”

Two miles farther on they came to a man sitting on top of a hill. He held a finger on one side of his nose and blew through the other.

“What are you doing?” asked the soldier.

“I am blowing to turn the wheels of seven windmills two miles away, so that the miller can grind his corn,” answered the man.

“Come with us,” said the soldier. “We are going out into the world to make our fortunes.”

Very well, the man was willing; the wind was springing up, anyway, so the miller would not need him. So now there were four of them journeying along together.

After awhile they came to a heap of rocks, and there in the shade of it sat a man. He had unfastened one of his legs, and taken it off, and he sat with the other stretched out before him.

“That is a good way to rest,” said the soldier.

“I am not doing this to rest,” said the man. “I am a runner. If I were to put on this other leg and start off I would be out of sight in a twinkling. I have arranged to take off one leg so that I can go more slowly; though ordinary people find it hard to keep up with me even so.”

“Take up your leg and come with us,” said the soldier. “We are going to make our fortunes, and it shall be share and share alike with us if you will come along.”

To this the runner agreed. He took up his one leg and hopped along on the other, and they found it hard work to keep up with him, he went so fast.

They had gone but a mile or so when they met a man who wore a little hat cocked down over one ear.

“Hello!” called the soldier. “Why do you wear your hat in that fashion instead of straight on your head like other people?”

“Oh, every time I set it straight there comes such a heavy frost that the flowers are blighted, and even the birds freeze in the trees.”

“That is a wonderful gift,” said the soldier. “Come along with us, and we will make our fortunes together. And now there are six of us, and that is enough. We will have no more in our company.”

So the six stout comrades journeyed on until they came to the town where the King lived. This King had one daughter, and she could run so fast that it was like a bird skimming along, and the King had said that no one should marry her unless he could run faster than she could; if such a one came along he should have her for a wife. But so far no one had been able to outrun her.

The soldier with his five comrades marched up to the palace and knocked at the door as bold as bold, and asked to see the King.

At first the gatekeeper did not wish to let the six in, for they were worn and dusty, but the soldier looked at him so fiercely that he did not dare to refuse.

The six comrades were brought into the great hall where the King sat with his daughter beside him and all his nobles about him.

Well, and what did the soldier and his fellows want with the King.

Oh, the soldier wanted to try a race with the princess; but he was not much of a runner himself, so he would let his servant run for him.

The King was willing for that, but he warned the soldier that if he failed in the race he and his servant, too, would lose their lives.

The soldier was not afraid to risk that, so the race course was laid out, and the Princess and the runner made ready. They were to run to a fountain miles and miles and miles away, and each was to fill a pitcher with water and bring it back to the palace. Whichever first returned with the water would win the race.

The runner stooped down and buckled on his second leg, and then he was ready, and he and the Princess set out. The Princess flew like a bird, but the runner ran like the wind. He was out of sight in a twinkling, and had filled his pitcher and started home again before the Princess was half-way to the fountain.

The runner sat down to rest a bit. He was very sleepy and he thought he would just take a little nap before going the rest of the way. In order not to be too comfortable and sleep too long he picked up a horse’s skull that lay in a field near by and put it under his head for a pillow.

But the runner slept more soundly than he meant to do.

The Princess also reached the fountain and filled her pitcher and started home again, and then, half-way home, she came across the runner fast asleep with his pitcher of water beside him.

This was the chance for the Princess. Very quietly she poured the water from the runner’s pitcher, and set it down beside him empty. Then she hurried on toward the palace, leaving the runner still asleep.

And now all would have been lost except for the hunter. He had been watching from the palace window and had seen everything that happened. He made haste to load his gun, and took aim and shot the skull from under the sleeper’s head. This awakened the runner. He sat up and looked about him.

There was the Princess almost back at the palace, and his pitcher lay empty beside him.

However, this was nothing to him. He picked up his pitcher and away he went, swifter than the wind. He ran back to the fountain and filled the pitcher, and got back with it to the castle door before the Princess had come in at the outer gate.

And now by rights the Princess belonged to the soldier, but the King could not make up his mind to have her married to a common man like that. As for the Princess she was ready to cry her eyes out at the thought of it. She and the King talked and talked together, and at last they made up a plan between them.

The King had a room made that was all of iron and could be heated until it was hotter than any oven. Then he called the comrades to him and said, “Now you have fairly won the race, and I have ordered food and drink to be set out for you, so that you may make merry over it.”

He then showed the companions into the iron room, and there a grand feast had been made ready. The six sat down at table and began to eat and drink, but the king went on out and locked the doors behind him. Then he ordered a fire to be built under the room, and to be kept up until the room was red hot.

The six companions sat around the table eating and drinking merrily enough, until they began to feel too warm. Then they got up to leave the room, but they found the door was locked and they were fastened in. At once they guessed the trick that had been played upon them, but they were not troubled over that in the least.

“This is something for you to see to,” said the soldier to the man with the hat over one ear.

The man set his hat straight and at once a frost fell upon the room. It grew so cold that the comrades had to turn up their coat collars and walk about to keep warm.

The King waited until he thought the six would certainly be suffocated by the heat, and then he ordered the door to be opened. What was his surprise when all the men walked out just as well and hearty as ever, except that they looked somewhat pinched with the cold.

But the King was as unwilling as ever to give his daughter to the soldier. He called the soldier to him and said, “Listen, if you will give up marrying the Princess I will make you rich for life.”

“Yes, but how much will you give me?” asked the soldier.

“I will give you all the gold you can carry.”

Well, the soldier hardly knew what to say to that. Ever since he had been in the war his back had been weak; but if the King would give him as much as his servant could carry he would give up the Princess and welcome.

The King did not care who carried off the gold. He was quite willing to give as much as the servant could carry.

“Very well,” said the soldier. “In a week’s time I will come back for the gold, and do you gather it together and have it ready for me.”

The next thing the soldier did was to hire all the tailors he could get, and have them make for him an enormous sack, and when it was finished it was as big as a house.

When it was done he and the strong man went back to the palace together, and the week was just up. The strong man carried the sack, rolled up, on his shoulders.

Meanwhile the King had had a ton of gold brought up from his treasure-house, and that, he was sure, was more than the strongest man could carry.

When the soldier and his comrade came where the gold was the strong man opened up the sack, and taking up the ton of gold with one hand he threw it into the sack. “That will do for a beginning,” said he, “but we will have to have more than that.”

The King was frightened. He ordered more gold and more to be brought up from his treasure-house, and still there did not begin to be enough. “I can easily carry twice as much, and more,” cried the strong man.

At last the King’s treasure-house was empty, and he sent out all over the kingdom for more gold, and still there was not enough.

“Oh, well!” cried the strong man at last, “I see you have done your best; we will have to be content with what we have.” Then he swung the sack up over his shoulder and marched off with it, and the soldier and the other comrades went along with him.

But the King was in a terrible state of mind. Here all his treasure had been carried off by a common soldier and his followers. He would almost rather have given up the Princess than that. He stamped and raged, and then he called his horsemen together, and sent out two regiments after the comrades to bring them back again and the treasure with them.

It did not take the horsemen long to catch up to the comrades for they were traveling along quietly enough, and without any haste.

“Stop! stop!” cried the captain of the regiment. “I have come to take you and the treasure back to the King. Will you come along quietly, or will we have to drag you?”

“Wait a bit,” said the blower. “Before we talk further about it suppose you take a dance in the air.” He put one finger to his nostril and blew through the other and away went the captain and his regiment, whirling and dancing through the air like dry leaves when the wind blows them.

After awhile he allowed them to settle down to earth again. “There!” said he. “Have you had enough, or would you like another dance?”

No! the regiment had no wish for another whirl through the air. All they wished for now was to get safely back to the palace again.

“Very well,” said the blower. “Then go back to the King and tell him if he sends his whole army out after us I will treat it in the same way.”

But this the King dared not do. His treasure was gone and he could not risk having his army blown away, into the bargain. The comrades went on their way with no further hindrance, and after awhile they sat down and divided the treasure among them and each one had enough to make him rich and prosperous for life.

THE GOLDEN BIRD

There was once a King who had in his gardens an apple-tree that bore golden apples. Every day the King went out to count the apples, and no one was allowed to touch them but himself.

One morning, when the King went out to count them as usual he found that one of them was gone. He was very much vexed, and ordered that at night a guard should be set around the garden, that no one might steal the apples, but the very next morning still another one was missing. So it happened day after day. Every gate to the garden was carefully guarded, and yet every morning another apple was gone from the tree, and they could not tell who had taken it.

Now the King had three sons, and one day the eldest came to his father and said, “Father, to-night I will watch under the apple-tree, and you may be sure that no one will be able to come near it without my seeing him.”

The King was quite willing for his son to keep watch, so that night the Prince took his place under the tree.

For some hours he sat there and watched, and scarcely winked an eyelid; but in the middle of the night a light shone around him and he heard a sound of music. Then, in spite of himself, he fell into a deep sleep, and when he awoke in the morning another apple had been stolen.

That day the second son came to the King and asked that he might be allowed to watch the apple-tree that night.

Again the King consented, and as soon as night came the second son went out and sat under the apple-tree just as his brother had done. Then just the same thing happened as had happened before. Toward midnight a light shone around the tree, and there was a sound of music, and then, do what he would, he could not stay awake. He slept, and while he slept another apple was taken.

The third day it was the turn of the third son to ask to be allowed to watch under the apple-tree. But the King refused. “Do you think that you are cleverer than your brothers?” he asked. “Why should you succeed when they have failed?” But the Prince begged and entreated until at last the King gave him permission to watch under the tree.

Now the third Prince was a wise youth; he had heard what happened to his brothers on the other two nights, so when evening came he stuffed his ears with cotton, and then he went out and took his place under the apple-tree. There he sat, and just before midnight a light shone through the branches, and there was a sound of music. But the young Prince had stuffed his ears with cotton so he could not hear the music, and he did not go to sleep.

After the music came a sound of wings, though this, too, the Prince could not hear, and a golden bird alighted on the apple-tree. The bird was about to pick one of the apples when the Prince raised his crossbow and shot a bolt at it.