Chapter V: Part 5

To this the king agreed, and he gave Hans a written promise to that effect. Then Hans rode on in front and showed him the way, and the king speedily arrived safely in his own kingdom. There was great rejoicing in the palace when he was seen returning, and his only daughter, who was very beautiful, ran to meet him, and she embraced and kissed him, full of delight that her father had come home. She inquired where he had been so long, and he told her how he had lost his way in the forest and might never have gotten back if he had not been helped by a strange creature, half man and half hedgehog, which rode on a rooster and when discovered was in a tree-top seated on the rooster’s back making music with some bagpipes. “My only trouble now,” said the king, “is that I had to promise to give the creature the first thing which met me in front of my palace. I feel very sad, because it is you who first met me.”

“Never mind,” said the princess. “Perhaps he will never come for me; but if he does, for your sake, I will go with him.”

After a time Hans decided to leave the forest and visit the two kings whom he helped to find their way back to their kingdoms. But the first king had given strict orders that if any one came into his domains riding on a rooster and carrying some bagpipes he should be chased away, and, if need be, shot, or hacked to pieces with swords. On no account was he to be allowed to enter the palace. When, therefore, Hans the Hedgehog drew near to the palace, the guards charged on him with their bayonets, but he put spurs to his rooster and flew up over the gate right to one of the king’s windows. He alighted on a balcony and called out that if he was not given what he had been promised, the king and his daughter should be punished for their treachery.

So the frightened king said everything should be done as Hans the Hedgehog wished. He ordered a carriage to be made ready drawn by six white horses, and attended by servants in gorgeous liveries. The princess stepped into it, and Hans the Hedgehog with his rooster and bagpipes took his place beside her. Then they drove away, but they had not gone far out of the city when Hans pulled the princess’s shawl off and pricked her with his quills, saying: “That is your reward for falsehood. Go back home. I will have nothing more to do with you.”

Then the coach returned with her, and Hans the Hedgehog rode away on his rooster to the other kingdom. When he entered the royal city, the guards, in accord with the king’s orders, presented arms, the people cheered, and he was conducted in triumph to the palace. At sight of Hans, the princess was a good deal startled, for he certainly was very peculiar looking, but he told her no harm would befall her and she need not be alarmed. So she made him welcome, and he sat next to her at the royal table, and they ate and drank together.

Late in the evening Hans had a big fire made in his chamber, and at his request four trusty men were ordered to stand on guard at his door. About eleven o’clock, when he went to his room, he said to the guards, “Never in my life have I slept in a bed, and before I get into the one prepared for me here I shall creep out of my hedgehog skin and leave it lying on the floor. Ten minutes from now you four men must come in and throw the skin into the fire, and stand by till it is entirely consumed.”

Hans entered the room, took off his hedgehog skin, and got into bed. Soon afterward the four men came in, threw the skin into the fire, and watched it burn till there was nothing left of it. Hans was now wholly human in his form, but the guards, when they looked at him, were dismayed to find that he was quite black, as though he had been severely scorched. They informed the king, and he at once summoned a physician. The latter, by the use of various salves and ointments, made Hans’ skin white, and the youth became as handsome as he was clever. When the cure was complete the king’s daughter was greatly pleased, and not long afterward they were married, and when the old king died Hans ruled the kingdom in his stead.

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THE MAGPIE’S NEST

ONCE upon a time
When pigs spoke rhyme,

all the birds of the air came to the magpie and asked her to teach them how to build nests; for the magpie was very clever. So she had them gather around her and began to show them how to do it. First of all she took some mud and made a sort of a round cake with it.

“Oh, that’s how it’s done!” said the thrush, and away she flew, and the thrush has built her nests out of mud ever since.

Then the magpie took some twigs and arranged them around in the mud.

“Now I know all about it,” said the blackbird. So off she flew, and the blackbirds make their nests of mud and sticks to this very day.

Then the magpie put another layer of mud over the twigs.

“Oh, that’s quite plain!” said the owl, and away she flew, and owls have made their nests after that manner ever since.

Next the magpie took some twigs and twined them around the outside.

“The very thing!” exclaimed the sparrow, and off she went, and the sparrows to this day make rather slovenly nests.

Then Madge Magpie took some feathers and other bits of soft material and lined the nest very nicely with it.

“That suits me!” cried the starling, and away she flew, and ever since then the starlings have built very comfortable nests.

The magpie kept on with her work, but the birds were constantly leaving before she had finished, each thinking she knew all there was to know about nest-building. At last the only bird that remained was the turtle-dove. She now began to repeat her silly cry, “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o!”

The magpie was just putting a twig across, and she said, “No, one is enough.”

But the turtle-dove kept on saying, “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o!”

That made the magpie angry, and she exclaimed, “One’s enough, I tell you!”

Still the turtle-dove cried, “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o!”

At this the magpie became so disturbed that she flew away, and always afterward, when the birds asked her how to build their nests, she refused to tell them. That is why different birds build their nests differently.

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PUSS IN BOOTS

ONCE upon a time there was a poor miller who had three sons, and when he died he had nothing to leave them except his mill, a donkey, and a cat. The division was quickly made without the help of either lawyer or judge. The eldest son took the mill, and the second took the donkey. So there was nothing left for the youngest but the cat, and the poor fellow could not help feeling that he had been treated shabbily. “My brothers will be able to earn a comfortable livelihood,” he sighed, “but as for me, though Puss may feed himself by catching mice, he can’t feed me, and I shall certainly die of hunger.”

While he spoke, the cat was sitting near by and heard all he said. Immediately the creature jumped on his shoulder, rubbed gently against his cheek, and began to speak. “Dear master,” said he, “do not grieve. I am not as useless as you think. Give me a bag, and buy me a pair of boots so I can scamper through the brush and brambles, and I will make your fortune for you.”

PUSS IN BOOTS GREETS THE KING
]

The lad had very little money to spare, but he knew Puss was a faithful creature, and he had seen him play many cunning tricks to catch rats and mice, so that he did not altogether despair of his affording him some help. Therefore he bought him a smart pair of boots made of buff-colored leather, and gave him the bag for which he had asked.

Puss drew on the boots, and then he fitted slip-strings around the mouth of the bag, put some bran and parsley inside, and trotted off with it to a neighboring hillside where there was an abundance of rabbits. He laid the bag on the ground with the mouth of it propped open, and hid himself in the ferns and bushes and waited. Presently two foolish young rabbits came sniffing about and crept into the bag to get some of the bran and parsley. The clever cat at once drew the slip-strings close, and the rabbits were caught. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and away he went to the royal palace, where he asked to speak with the king. The guards ushered him into the king’s presence, and Puss made a low bow, lifted the rabbits out of his bag, and said, “Sir, my noble lord, the Marquis of Carabas” (this was the title he chose to confer on his master) “has commanded me to present these rabbits to your Majesty, with his respects.”

“Tell your master that I thank him,” said the king, “and that he has given me great pleasure.”

Then he dismissed Puss with many compliments and a purse of gold, and ordered his head cook to serve the rabbits for dinner so he and his daughter might enjoy them.

The next day Puss went and hid in a grain field with the bag baited and open near his hiding-place. A brace of partridges ran into it, and he drew the strings and caught them. These he took home to his master, and he went hunting every pleasant day. He kept his master so well supplied with game that they lived in plenty, and often he carried some game to the king. Whatever it was that he presented at the palace, it was always with the message, “From my lord, the Marquis of Carabas.” So every one at court was talking of this strange nobleman, whom no one had ever seen, but who sent such generous gifts to his Majesty.

By and by Puss decided that it was time for his master to be introduced at court. He learned that on a certain day the king and his daughter, who was the most beautiful princess in the world, were to go out in their coach to drive along the riverside, and he said to his master: “If you will follow my advice your fortune is made. Go and wash yourself in the river at a spot which I will show you, and leave the rest to me.”

The young man knew nothing of the why or wherefore of the cat’s advice, but he went to the river, and the cat took charge of his clothes while he plunged into the water. He did not enjoy the experience, for the water was cold, and he soon stopped splashing around and stood shivering with the water up to his neck, wondering what was to happen next. Just then the king’s carriage appeared in sight, and Puss at once began to shout: “Help! help! My lord, the Marquis of Carabas is drowning!”

The king put his head out of the coach window, and he recognized Puss as the cat who had so often brought him presents of game. Immediately he ordered his attendants to go to the assistance of the marquis. While they were pulling the youth out of the river the cat came up to the coach and told the king that some rogues had gone off with his master’s clothes, though in fact the cunning cat had hidden them under a big stone.

On hearing this story the king dispatched one of his grooms to fetch a handsome suit of purple and gold from the royal wardrobe. When the young man had been arrayed in this he looked so well that no one for a moment supposed but that he was some noble foreign lord. The king and his daughter were so pleased with his appearance that they invited him into their carriage. At first he felt a little shy about sitting next to a princess, but she smiled at him so sweetly, and was so kind and gentle that he soon forgot his fears. As for her, after he had cast two or three respectful and somewhat tender glances in her direction, she fell in love with him to distraction.

When the cat had seen his master seated in the royal carriage, he was overjoyed to think how well his project was succeeding. He ran on ahead as fast as he could trot until he came to a field of grain where the laborers were busy reaping. “Reapers,” said he fiercely, “the king will soon pass this way. If he should ask you to whom this field belongs, remember that you are to say, ‘To the Marquis of Carabas.’ Don’t dare to disobey me, or I will have you all chopped up as fine as mincemeat.”

The reapers were so afraid the cat would do as he threatened that they promised to obey. Puss then ran on and told all the other laborers whom he met to give the same answer, and declared they would be terribly punished if they did not.

The king was in a very good humor, for the day was fine, and he found the marquis a very pleasant companion. So he told the coachman to drive slowly, that he might admire the beautiful country. “What a fine field of wheat!” he said presently, and he had the coach stop while he asked the laborers to whom it belonged.

Then the men answered in accord with the cat’s orders, “To our lord, the Marquis of Carabas.”

“Sir,” said the marquis, “this is a field that never fails to yield plentifully every year.”

The coach went on until it encountered a herd of cattle. “To whom do these cattle belong?” the king asked the drovers.

“To the Marquis of Carabas,” they replied.

It was the same all along the way. The king’s inquiries as to the ownership of property received this uniform reply. The marquis listened with the greatest astonishment, and thought what a wonderful cat Puss was; and the king was delighted to find that his new friend was as wealthy as he was charming.

Meanwhile Puss, who was well in advance of the royal party, had arrived at a stately castle which belonged to a cruel ogre, the richest ever known. Indeed, he was the owner of all the land and crops and cattle the king had admired so much. The cat knocked at the door, and asked to see the ogre, who received him quite civilly. He had never before seen a cat in boots, and the sight amused him. So he and Puss were soon chatting together.

“I have been assured,” said the cat, “that you possess the power to change yourself into any kind of animal you choose—a lion or an elephant, for instance.”

“Well, so I can,” responded the ogre briskly.

“Dear me!” said Puss, “how much I should like to see you do it now.”

The ogre was only too glad to have a chance to show how clever he was, so he agreed to transform himself into any animal Puss might mention.

“Oh! I will leave the choice to you,” said the cat politely.

Immediately there appeared, where the ogre had been seated, an enormous lion, roaring, and lashing with his tail, and looking as though he meant to gobble up the cat in a trice. Puss was really very much frightened, and he jumped out of the window and managed to scramble up on the roof, though not without abundance of trouble and danger because of his boots. There he clung, refusing to come down until the ogre resumed his natural form and laughingly called to him that he would do him no harm.

Then Puss ventured back into the room and began to compliment the ogre on his cleverness. “Of course,” said he in conclusion, “what you did was very marvellous, but it would be more surprising still if you who are so big and fierce could transform yourself into some timid little creature such as a mouse. That, I suppose, would be impossible.”

“Not at all,” said the ogre. “One is quite as easy to me as the other, as I will show you.”

A moment later the ogre had vanished, and a little brown mouse was frisking about the floor. “Now or never,” said Puss, and with a sudden leap he seized the mouse and gobbled it up as fast as he could. Instantly all the gentlemen and ladies whom the wicked ogre had held in his castle under a spell were disenchanted, and they came to express their gratitude to their deliverer. They were ready to do anything to please him, and at his request they agreed to enter into the service of the Marquis of Carabas.

Now the cat had a splendid castle with much treasure stored in its vaults, and he ordered a magnificent feast to be prepared. Then he hurried forth to the highway and met the king’s coach. His Majesty was looking toward the ogre’s castle. “Whose is it?” he asked. “I have never seen a finer.”

“It belongs to the noble Marquis of Carabas,” said Puss, “and I beg you to honor my master by being his guest.”

The king ordered the coachman to drive to the castle, and Puss went on ahead and threw open the gates. As the carriage was crossing the drawbridge he cried out, “Welcome to the castle of my lord, the Marquis of Carabas!”

Full of surprise, the king turned to the marquis and said, “Not even my own palace can surpass the beauty of your castle.”

Puss helped his Majesty to alight and conducted him into a spacious hall, where a group of gentlemen and ladies were waiting to receive them. The marquis came into the hall with the princess, and they all sat down to a splendid banquet. Long and merrily they feasted, and when at length the guests rose to depart, the king embraced the marquis and said: “I am charmed with your many excellent qualities, and am greatly impressed with the castle which is your home, and with the magnificence of your hospitality. It will be your own fault, my Lord Marquis, if you are not my son-in-law.”

The marquis made several low bows, and thanked his Majesty for the honor he conferred on him. Not long afterward the miller’s son married the princess, and there were rejoicings throughout the land. On the evening of the wedding day a great ball was given, to which princes and noblemen from near and far were invited. Puss opened the ball, wearing for the occasion a pair of boots made of the finest leather with gold tassels and scarlet heels. I wish you could have seen him.

When the old king died, the princess and her husband reigned in his stead. Their most honored and faithful friend at court was Puss in Boots, for his master never forgot to whom he owed all his good fortune. Puss lived on the daintiest meat and the most delicious cream, and was petted and made much of all the days of his life; and he never ran after rats and mice except for exercise and amusement.

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THE MASTER AND HIS PUPIL

THERE was once a very learned man who knew all the languages under the sun, and who was acquainted with all the mysteries of creation. He had in his private room a big book bound in black leather and fitted with iron clasps, and it was chained to a table which was screwed fast to the floor. When he wanted to read in the book he unlocked the clasps with a brass key, and he never allowed any one else to read in it, for it contained many magician’s secrets. Among other things it told the names of the demons, and what they did, and how they could be summoned and made to work for man.

A young lad lived with the magician and served him, but though he worked for the great master he was an ignorant youth who was scarcely allowed so much as to enter the learned man’s private room. But one day, when his master was absent, he went in there, and satisfied his curiosity by looking around to his heart’s content. Here was the wondrous apparatus for changing copper into gold, and lead into silver; and the mirror in which could be seen all that was passing in the world; and the shell which, when held to the ear, enabled one to hear any words being spoken by whatever person one desired to know about.

The lad tried in vain with the crucibles to turn copper into gold and lead into silver. Next he gazed long and vainly into the mirror, but clouds and smoke passed over the scenes within, and he could discern nothing clearly. Then he put the shell to his ear. That too disappointed him, for he could hear only indistinct murmurings like the breaking of waves on a distant shore.

“I can do nothing,” he said, “because I do not know the right words to utter and make things go right. The words I need are locked from sight in yonder book.”

Just then he noticed with surprise that the book lay open. The master had forgotten to lock it, and the lad ran eagerly to look at its secret-revealing pages. Some of the words were in black ink and some in red, and they seemed to be in a strange language. He could not see a single one that appeared familiar, and he sat down and put his finger on a line and spelled it through.

At once the room was darkened, and the house trembled, and there was a startling clap of thunder. Then the lad saw standing before him a horrible winged creature, breathing fire, and with eyes like burning lamps. It was the demon Beelzebub whom he had called up to serve him.

“Set me a task!” cried the demon with a voice like the roaring of an iron furnace.

The boy shivered with fright, and his hair stood on end. He knew not what to do or say.

“Set me a task or I shall strangle you,” said the demon.

But the lad could not find voice to speak. The evil spirit stepped toward him and reached out his hands toward the boy’s throat. The youth shrank from the demon’s burning touch, while again the command was dinned in his ears. “Set me a task!”

“Water yon flower,” said the boy in despair, pointing to a geranium which stood in a pot on the floor.

Instantly the demon left the room, but a moment later he returned with a barrel on his back and poured its contents over the flower. Again and again he went and came, and poured more and more water until the floor of the room was ankle-deep.

“Enough, enough!” gasped the lad.

But the demon heeded him not. The boy did not know the words that must be spoken in order to send the demon away, and the evil spirit continued to fetch water. It rose to the boy’s knees, and yet more water was poured. It mounted to his waist, and still Beelzebub brought barrel after barrel full. It rose to the lad’s armpits, and he scrambled to the table-top. Presently the water was half way up the window and washing against the glass, and it swirled around the lad’s legs where he stood on the table. It kept on rising and reached his breast.

In vain he ordered and begged the demon to desist. The evil spirit refused to obey, and he would have been pouring water even to this day had not the master returned. He came in haste, for he had recollected that he had left his book unlocked, and he arrived just as the water had reached his pupil’s chin. Without a moment’s delay he shouted the proper words to make Beelzebub return to his fiery home, and the lad was saved.

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THE WHITE TROUT

THERE was once a beautiful lady who lived beside a lake in the western part of Ireland, and she was to be the bride of a king’s son. But just before the time set for the wedding he was murdered and thrown into the lake. So of course he couldn’t keep his promise to the fair lady—more’s the pity.

The lady was that tender-hearted she went out of her mind because of losing the king’s son. She pined away, and one day disappeared, and it was thought that the fairies had taken her.

After a time a white trout was seen in a stream that flowed into the lake, and the people didn’t know what to make of the creature, for such a thing as a white trout had never been known before. Years and years the trout was there, and no harm was ever done to it until some wicked sinners of soldiers came to those parts. They laughed at the people and gibed and jeered at them for never trying to catch the white trout. One of them, in particular, swore he would have the white trout for his dinner some fine day.

Sure enough, the blackguard caught the trout, and away he went home with it, pitched the pretty little thing into the frying-pan, and put the frying-pan over the fire. The trout squealed just like a Christian when it found itself thus cruelly treated, and the soldier laughed till he was like to split; for he was a hardened villain. When he thought one side was done, he turned the trout over to fry the other, but to his surprise saw not a sign of a burn on it anywhere. “This is a queer trout that can’t be fried,” said he. “But I’ll give it another turn by and by.”

As soon as the heathen thought that side was done he turned the trout again, and behold not a bit more broiled was it than when he began. “Bad luck to me,” said the soldier, “but this beats the world. However, cunning as you think yourself, I’ll try you again, my darling.”

So saying, he turned the trout over and over, and he kept the fire blazing hot, but not a sign of a burn would show on the pretty creature. He might have known he was doing a wrong thing, seeing that his endeavors accomplished nothing, and yet he kept on as he had begun.

“Well, my jolly little trout,” said he at last, “maybe you’re fried enough, though you don’t seem to be any more so than you were when I pulled you out of the stream. But perhaps you are better than you look, and a tit-bit after all.”

Then he picked up his knife and fork to have a taste of the trout, but the moment he put his knife into the fish there was a piercing screech, and the trout flopped out of the frying-pan into the middle of the floor. Immediately, on the spot where it fell, stood a beautiful lady—the loveliest creature that eyes had ever seen, dressed in white, and a band of gold in her hair, and her arm stained with blood.

“Look where you cut me, you villain,” said she, and she held her arm out toward him. “Why couldn’t you leave me cool and comfortable in the river, and not disturb me in my duty?”

The soldier, trembling with terror, stammered out some lame excuse, and begged for his life, asked her ladyship’s pardon, and declared that he did not know she was on duty. “If I had known it,” said he, “I am too good a soldier to have meddled with you.”

“I _was_ on duty,” the lady affirmed. “I was watching for my true love, who is coming to me; and if he comes while I am away, so that I miss him, I’ll turn you into the little fish that is called a pinkeen, and I’ll hunt you up and down for evermore, while grass grows or water runs.”

The soldier nearly fainted away at the thought of being turned into a pinkeen. He begged for mercy harder than ever, and the lady said: “Renounce your evil ways, or you’ll repent too late. Be a good man for the future and go regularly to church; and now take me and put me back in the river where you found me.”

“Oh, my lady!” exclaimed the soldier, “how could I have the heart to drown a beautiful lady like you?”

Before he could say another word the lady had vanished, and he saw the little trout on the floor. So he put it on a clean plate, and away he ran to the river as fast as he could go, fearful that her lover would come while she was away. He ran and he ran until he came to the edge of the stream and then he threw the trout into the water.

From that day the soldier was an altered man. He reformed his ways, went to church regularly, and fasted three times a week, though he would not eat fish even on fasting days, for after the fright he got, fish would never rest on his stomach. At length he left the army and turned hermit, and every day he prayed for the soul of the white trout.

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THE FORTY-NINE DRAGONS

ONCE upon a time there were two brothers, the older of whom was rich and had four children, while the younger was poor and had seven children. At last the family of the poor brother was in such want that the mother went to the rich man and said: “I am very wretched, for I am unable to provide my children with enough to eat. I take a little meal and mix it with a great deal of bran, and so manage to make bread. It is well nigh a year since my children have had any meat. They get nothing but the meal and bran bread.”

“And yet,” said he, “your children are strong, while mine, in spite of plentiful and rich food, and other comforts, are always ailing.”

“Yes,” said the woman, “though our lot is one of poverty and hunger, yet, thanks be to Heaven, our children are hale and hearty. But I fear for the future, and I have come to implore you, if you need to hire any work done, that you do not send for any one but me; and may God bless you and give health to your children.”

As she spoke these words the tears ran from her eyes, and the man called his wife and said to her: “Here is our sister-in-law wanting work. Have we something for her to do so she may not sit idle?”

“Yes,” answered his wife, “let her come twice a week and knead bread for us.”

When the poor woman heard these words she was glad, for she thought that when she kneaded the fine white bread they would give her some of it, and her children would eat and rejoice. She rose to go away, and they said to her, “Good-by, and remember to come tomorrow morning.”

They let her depart without relieving her want by giving her a scrap of anything. As she set off toward home she said to herself: “Would that I were rich and could go to my cupboard and bring out a bit of cheese, or a piece of bread, or a little rice, or other household store to gladden the hearts of the poor!”

Her children were eagerly awaiting her at home, but alas! she came with empty hands.

The next day she went early to the rich man’s house to knead bread, and when she finished her task they bade her farewell and told her to be sure to come next time, but they gave her nothing whatever.

As soon as she returned home the children said, “Have you brought us some food, mother?”

“No,” she replied, “but maybe they will send us a bit of bread when the baking is done.”

However, she waited in vain. Two or three days later she got word that they wanted her to come and knead again. So she went to the rich man’s house and began her work. As she was kneading, the thought came into her head not to wash her hands until she reached home. Then she could give to the children the water in which she washed off the dough and flour. She hurried home as soon as she had done kneading, and said to her children, “I am going to give you a little milk soup.”

Then she washed her hands thoroughly, and divided the water among them, and they liked it so much they said, “Mother, whenever you go to knead, be sure to bring us some of that broth to drink.”

Twice a week she went to the rich man’s house to knead bread, and her children had never been more hearty and vigorous. One day the rich man was passing by his younger brother’s house, and he put his head in at the door and said, “How do you do here?”

He looked at the children and was amazed to see how fat they were. That put him in a great rage, and he went home and called to his wife: “Come at once, and tell me what you give to my sister-in-law, who does the kneading for us.”

She was frightened by the way he shouted at her. “I never give her anything,” she declared, “because I am so afraid of giving her too much and then getting a scolding from you.”

“You must have given her something,” he persisted, “for her children are so fat they look as if they would burst.”

“Well,” said his wife, “she takes nothing away with her but her unwashed hands, and after she gets home she gives the water in which she washes her hands to the children to drink.”

“Then you must put a stop to that,” he ordered.

So the next time, when the woman had finished kneading, the rich man’s wife said to her, “Wash your hands and then go.”

The poor woman obeyed with a sad heart, and quailed to think of returning home without being able to give her children even the milk soup wash to which they had become accustomed. As soon as she reached her house the children gathered about her, clamoring that she should make haste and give them their usual treat; but she said, “I washed my hands before I came away this time.”

All the children began to weep and to say, “How could you so forget us as not to bring us that beautiful broth?”

In the midst of the lamentations the father entered the house, and asked, “What ails the children that they cry so noisily?”

She told him all that had happened, and he was much grieved. “Perhaps I can find a little food on the mountain-side,” said he. “I will take a bag and try to get some herbs and edible roots.”

So away he went, and he wandered a long distance. At last he found himself on the top of a high crag and saw, not far away, a great castle. “I wonder to whom that castle belongs,” said he.

He went nearer and climbed into a tree to get a better view of it. While he was looking, behold, a number of dragons came out. He counted them, and there were forty-nine. They left the door open and went away out of sight. So he climbed down from the tree and went to the castle, where he walked about from room to room and saw that it contained a vast amount of treasure. Into his bag he put as much gold as he could carry and hurried away with it, fearful that the dragons would catch him.

When they came back they perceived that some of their money was gone, and henceforth they determined that one of them should stay behind in the castle when the others went out.

The man returned home and said to his wife: “God has taken pity on us. See, here we have enough gold to make us rich,” and he opened his bag and showed her the golden money he had brought.

On the following day he purchased a house and moved his family into it. “But let us continue to live simply,” said he to his wife. “We will buy what we need and avoid extravagance.”

“Yes,” said she, “that is best. I do not forget how recently I have been glad to give the children milk soup to drink to save them from starving.”

For two months they lived happily, and had plenty to eat, and gave generously to the poor. Then the wife of the older brother came to visit them, for she had heard that they were well off now. Her own family, on the contrary, had begun to suffer misfortune. Their sheep had died, their crops had failed, and unseasonable frosts had ruined their fruit trees.

The wife of the younger brother did not feel any ill will toward her visitor because of the way she had been treated in the days of her misery, and she welcomed her heartily, and gave her the best seat, and set before her the choicest food in the house. This was very different from the treatment that had been accorded her, for the older brother’s wife used to receive her in the kitchen and never asked her to sit down.

After some time the visitor said: “Sister, pray tell me where your husband has found work, that my husband may if possible get work there also. We have been unfortunate of late and are in great want.”

“My husband has not got any employment,” responded the other. “You remember when I was last at your house and you made me wash my hands. That day he went to the mountains and found a castle where he got a lot of gold.”

“Would he take my husband to that castle?” asked the former rich woman. “Perhaps we too may thus gain relief.”

“He will do what he can for you, I am sure,” said the other. “If your husband will bring a bag tomorrow he will show him the way. He does not wish to get any more treasure for himself because he thinks we already have enough.”

The next morning the older brother came with a bag under his arm and said: “Good morrow, brother, how do you do? I hope you are well.”

Hitherto, if he saw his brother, he looked the other way, or turned aside, lest he should be asked for help. But the former poor man welcomed him and said: “It gives me joy to have you enter my house, for I have very seldom had the pleasure of seeing you.”

“Things have gone badly with me,” said the older brother, “and now I know not what to do.”

“Well,” said the other, “we will go to the mountains, and very likely you will have the luck to get as rich as ever.”

So they started off together, and when they came to where they could see the castle the younger brother showed his companion the tree from which he had watched the castle. “Climb up among the branches,” said he, “and wait till the dragons that dwell in the castle come out. Count them. If forty-nine come forth you can descend and enter the castle free from fear. But unless the entire forty-nine leave, do not go in.”

While he was looking a number of dragons came out
]

With these words he turned his steps toward home. His brother watched eagerly from the tree, and by and by he saw the dragons coming forth, and he counted them. But he counted wrong, and instead of saying forty-eight he said forty-nine. Then he scrambled down from the tree, hurried to the castle, and looked about, seeking the treasure, that he might fill his bag. Suddenly he heard a voice say, “So you are the thief and have come back to steal more of our gold!”

He found himself confronted by a dragon that had come out of a near-by room where it had been staying on guard. Immediately it bit off his head, and took both the body and the head and hung them at the entrance to the castle. When the other dragons came home he said to them: “There is no need to keep watch any longer. I have killed the thief and hung him up where he will serve as a warning to all other thieves that may approach our castle.”

After that none of the dragons stayed at home, but each day they went out together.

Two days passed, and the wife of the former rich man got uneasy because her husband did not return. She went to the house of her brother-in-law, and when she told him that her husband had not come back he said he would go and seek him. Off he went, and as soon as he drew near to the castle he climbed the tree and looked and saw his brother’s body hanging at the entrance. Then he waited till the dragons came out. He counted them with great care, and there were forty-nine. After they had gone from sight he went and got his brother’s body and put it in a bag that lay near the entrance. It was the very bag his brother had brought to contain the gold he hoped to get.

The younger brother carried his burden home and sent for his sister-in-law. When she came and saw her dead husband she wept and would not be comforted. At last she said: “We must get a tailor to sew him together. I cannot bury him like that, in two pieces.”

So the man went out and got a tailor, who sewed the head on to the body, and afterward the burial took place. Then the younger brother gave his sister-in-law some money, and said, “Go and provide for yourself and your children, and if you are in want again, do not hesitate to come and ask me for what you need.”

Meanwhile the dragons had returned to their castle and found the dead man gone. “So the thief had an accomplice!” they exclaimed. “We must destroy him also.”

The chief dragon was a powerful magician, and the next day he assumed the form of a man, and went to the town to try to discover who had come to their castle and removed the body with its severed head. While he was loitering about, uncertain how to get the desired information, he concluded he would go to a tailor and have a suit of clothes made. The tailor took his measure, and the dragon said: “Now mind you sew the seams well so the stitches won’t come out. You must do a careful job, or I will not pay you. It’s not often I have a nice suit made, and I am particular. Use good strong thread and—”

“Stop!” cried the tailor with rising anger. “There is no need for you to make such a fuss. Why, yesterday I had to sew together a dead man whose head had been separated from his body. His relations were entirely satisfied with the way I did the difficult task. If I can do a job like that so well, in spite of the fact that it was out of my line, you can be assured I have the skill to make you a satisfactory suit. So have done with your advising, or you will drive me crazy.”

“Do you know the person who hired you to sew the dead man?” asked the dragon.

“Of course I do,” answered the tailor. “He lives near by. If you like, I will point out his house, and you can go in and ask him whether the body was well sewed or not.”

So he took the dragon a little way along the street and showed him where the brother of the dead man dwelt. But instead of going into the house, the dragon went to a carpenter’s shop and ordered forty-eight chests, each just big enough to contain one of the dragons. When the chests were finished he had them sent to a lonely spot outside of the town, and thither he summoned his dragons. They got into the chests, and he hired wagons to bring the chests to the house of the dead man’s brother. He himself went on ahead, and toward evening he found the former poor man seated in his doorway. “Sir,” said he, “I have had forty-eight chests sent to me. You can see them coming down the street on those wagons. Would you be so kind as to let me leave them in your yard for the night?”

“You are welcome to leave them there for the night,” said the man, “and as much longer as suits your convenience.”

After the wagons had been unloaded and the dragon chief had gone, the man’s children began climbing about and jumping on the chests. The dragons who were inside groaned from time to time, and said, “Ah, would it were dark that we might eat them all.”

Presently the children took notice of the groanings and the words, and they ran to their father and said: “Those chests are bewitched. They are talking.”

The man thought a moment and said, “Forty-eight, and the one that brought them makes forty-nine!”

Then he went to the chests and put his ear to one of the keyholes. He heard the direful words and the groaning, and he said to himself, “Now that I have you monsters in my power I’ll make sure of you.”

So off he went and bought some iron rods, heated them red hot in his kitchen fire, and one by one thrust them into the chests until he had killed all the forty-eight dragons. That done, he called his servant, opened one of the chests, and said: “My man, look here. Some one has played us a trick and put a dragon in this chest. If I had not killed the creature it would have devoured us all. Take it and throw it into the sea.”

The servant lifted it on his back, went to the seashore, which was not far away, and threw the creature down where the rising tide would soon carry it away. Then he went home, but while he was gone his master had opened another chest. The man had his servant look in, and said: “Here is the dragon. Surely you did not throw it far enough out into the sea, else how would it have returned?”

Again the servant carried a dragon to the shore, and once more returned to find what was apparently the same dead dragon. His master kept him going nearly all night, and when he made the trip with the forty-eighth dragon he was so exasperated that he waded right into the sea and cast it out as far as he could. When he returned home, he said, “Master, is it back?”

“No,” the man answered, “it has not come back. You must have thrown it in very deep.”

Next morning the chief dragon came, and he was a good deal perturbed, because he had expected his dragons would destroy the family of the former poor man, and then join their chief before daylight at an appointed spot outside of the town. “I find that one of your chests is open and empty,” the man informed the dragon.

He led the way to the yard, and when the dragon bent over to look into the chest the man seized him and pushed him inside, slammed down the cover, and locked it. Then he ran for a red-hot iron, and soon the last of the dragons had perished.

The castle among the mountains was now without an owner, and the man took possession of it and lived there as happy as a prince—and may whoever reads this story, or hears it read, live happier still.

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THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS

THERE was once a poor man who had four sons, and when they were grown up, he said to them: “Dear children, you must go out into the world now, for I have nothing to give you. It is my wish that you should each learn a trade by which you can gain a comfortable livelihood, if not wealth.”

So the four brothers took their walking-staffs in their hands, bid their father good-by, and tramped away down the street and passed out of the town gate. After they had traveled some distance, they came to where four roads branched away from the one they were tramping. “Here we must part,” said the eldest brother, “but four years from this day we will meet here again, and tell each other what we have accomplished.”

Then each went his own way, and the eldest presently met a man, who asked him where he was going and what he intended to do.

“I want to learn a trade,” the youth answered.

“Then come with me and learn to be a thief,” said the man.

“No,” responded the youth, “that is no longer considered an honorable employment; and in the end I should swing as the clapper in the field bell.”

“Oh, you need not fear the gallows!” said the man. “I will only teach you how to take things that no one else wants or knows how to get hold of, and I will make you so expert that nobody can find you out.”

So the youth allowed himself to be persuaded, and he became, under the man’s instruction, such a clever thief that nothing was safe from him which he had once made up his mind to have.

Meanwhile the second brother had met a man who put the same question to him as to whither he was going and what he intended to do.

“I don’t know yet,” answered the youth.

“Then come with me and be a star-gazer,” the man advised. “It is the grandest trade in the world, for you gain the power to see everything.”

The youth was pleased with the idea, and he became such an expert star-gazer that, when he finished his apprenticeship, his master gave him a telescope, and said, “With this you can see all that happens in the sky and on the earth, and nothing can remain hidden from you.”

The third brother was taken in hand by a huntsman, and received such instruction in the art of shooting that he became a first-rate marksman. When he had learned all there was to learn and was ready to depart, his master presented him with a gun, and said, “Whatever you aim at with this gun you will hit without fail.”

The youngest brother met a man who asked him if he would like to be a tailor.

“I don’t know about that,” said the youth. “I haven’t much fancy for sitting cross-legged from morning till night, and everlastingly pulling a needle in and out.”

“There, there!” said the man, “you don’t know what you are talking about. You will find that tailoring as I teach it is easy. It will be pleasant to you and win you honor.”

The youth allowed himself to be persuaded, and went with the man, who taught him tailoring very thoroughly. At length the time came for him to depart, and his master gave him a needle and said, “With that you will be able to stitch anything, even a thing as tender as an egg-shell, or one as hard as steel, and no seam will be visible after you are through.”

On the very day that the four years agreed on came to an end the four brothers met at the place where they had parted, and after embracing each other they hurried home to their father.

“Well,” said he, quite pleased to see them, “so the wind has blown you back to me.”

They sat under a big tree in the yard and told him all that had happened to them. When they finished, their father said, “Now I will put your accomplishments to the test, and see what you can do.”

He looked up into the tree and said to his second son: “There is a chaffinch’s nest up there on the topmost branch. Tell me how many eggs there are in it.”

The star-gazer took his telescope, looked through it, and said, “There are five.”

“Fetch the eggs down,” said the father to his eldest son, “and be careful not to disturb the mother bird, who is sitting on them.”