Chapter V: Part 5

‘Mind your own business, mother,’ answered the gazelle, ‘and don’t mind other people’s! Has this snake a sword?’

‘He has a sword, and a sharp one too. It cuts like a dash of lightning.’

‘Give it to me, mother!’ said the gazelle, and she unhooked the sword from the wall, as she was bidden. ‘You must be quick,’ she said, ‘for he may be here at any moment. Hark! is not that the wind rising? He has come!’

They were silent, but the old woman peeped from behind a curtain, and saw the snake busy at the pots which she had placed ready for him in the courtyard. And after he had done eating and drinking he came to the door:

‘You old body!’ he cried; ‘what smell is that I smell inside that is not the smell of every day?’

‘Oh, master!’ answered she, ‘I am alone, as I always am! But to-day, after many days, I have sprinkled fresh scent all over me, and it is that which you smell. What else could it be, master?’

All this time the gazelle had been standing close to the door, holding the sword in one of its front paws. And as the snake put one of his heads through the hole that he had made so as to get in and out comfortably, it cut it of so clean that the snake really did not feel it. The second blow was not quite so straight, for the snake said to himself, ‘Who is that who is trying to scratch me?’ and stretched out his third head to see; but no sooner was the neck through the hole than the head went rolling to join the rest.

When six of his heads were gone the snake lashed his tail with such fury that the gazelle and the old woman could not see each other for the dust he made. And the gazelle said to him, ‘You have climbed all sorts of trees, but this you can’t climb,’ and as the seventh head came darting through it went rolling to join the rest.

Then the sword fell rattling on the ground, for the gazelle had fainted.

The old woman shrieked with delight when she saw her enemy was dead, and ran to bring water to the gazelle, and fanned it, and put it where the wind could blow on it, till it grew better and gave a sneeze. And the heart of the old woman was glad, and she gave it more water, till by-and-by the gazelle got up.

‘Show me this house,’ it said, ‘from beginning to end, from top to bottom, from inside to out.’

So she arose and showed the gazelle rooms full of gold and precious things, and other rooms full of slaves. ‘They are all yours, goods and slaves,’ said she.

But the gazelle answered, ‘You must keep them safe till I call my master.’

For two days it lay and rested in the house, and fed on milk and rice, and on the third day it bade the old woman farewell and started back to its master.

And when he heard that the gazelle was at the door he felt like a man who has found the time when all prayers are granted, and he rose and kissed it, saying: ‘My father, you have been a long time; you have left sorrow with me. I cannot eat, I cannot drink, I cannot laugh; my heart felt no smile at anything, because of thinking of you.’

And the gazelle answered: ‘I am well, and where I come from it is well, and I wish that after four days you would take your wife and go home.’

And he said: ‘It is for you to speak. Where you go, I will follow.’

‘Then I shall go to your father-in-law and tell him this news.’

‘Go, my son.’

So the gazelle went to the father-in-law and said: ‘I am sent by my master to come and tell you that after four days he will go away with his wife to his own home.’

‘Must he really go so quickly? We have not yet sat much together, I and Sultan Darai, nor have we yet talked much together, nor have we yet ridden out together, nor have we eaten together; yet it is fourteen days since he came.’

But the gazelle replied: ‘My lord, you cannot help it, for he wishes to go home, and nothing will stop him.’

‘Very good,’ said the sultan, and he called all the people who were in the town, and commanded that the day his daughter left the palace ladies and guards were to attend her on her way.

And at the end of four days a great company of ladies and slaves and horses went forth to escort the wife of Sultan Darai to her new home. They rode all day, and when the sun sank behind the hills they rested, and ate of the food the gazelle gave them, and lay down to sleep. And they journeyed on for many days, and they all, nobles and slaves, loved the gazelle with a great love--more than they loved the Sultan Darai.

At last one day signs of houses appeared, far, far off. And those who saw cried out, ‘Gazelle!’

And it answered, ‘Ah, my mistresses, that is the house of Sultan Darai.’

At this news the women rejoiced much, and the slaves rejoiced much, and in the space of two hours they came to the gates, and the gazelle bade them all stay behind, and it went on to the house with Sultan Darai.

When the old woman saw them coming through the courtyard she jumped and shouted for joy, and as the gazelle drew near she seized it in her arms, and kissed it. The gazelle did not like this, and said to her: ‘Old woman, leave me alone; the one to be carried is my master, and the one to be kissed is my master.’

And she answered, ‘Forgive me, my son. I did not know this was our master,’ and she threw open all the doors so that the master might see everything that the rooms and storehouses contained. Sultan Darai looked about him, and at length he said:

‘Unfasten those horses that are tied up, and let loose those people that are bound. And let some sweep, and some spread the beds, and some cook, and some draw water, and some come out and receive the mistress.’

And when the sultana and her ladies and her slaves entered the house, and saw the rich stuffs it was hung with, and the beautiful rice that was prepared for them to eat, they cried: ‘Ah, you gazelle, we have seen great houses, we have seen people, we have heard of things. But this house, and you, such as you are, we have never seen or heard of.’

After a few days, the ladies said they wished to go home again. The gazelle begged them hard to stay, but finding they would not, it brought many gifts, and gave some to the ladies and some to their slaves. And they all thought the gazelle greater a thousand times than its master, Sultan Darai.

The gazelle and its master remained in the house many weeks, and one day it said to the old woman, ‘I came with my master to this place, and I have done many things for my master, good things, and till to-day he has never asked me: “Well, my gazelle, how did you get this house? Who is the owner of it? And this town, were there no people in it?” All good things I have done for the master, and he has not one day done me any good thing. But people say, “If you want to do any one good, don’t do him good only, do him evil also, and there will be peace between you.” So, mother, I have done: I want to see the favours I have done to my master, that he may do me the like.’

‘Good,’ replied the old woman, and they went to bed.

In the morning, when light came, the gazelle was sick in its stomach and feverish, and its legs ached. And it said ‘Mother!’

And she answered, ‘Here, my son?’

And it said, ‘Go and tell my master upstairs the gazelle is very ill.’

‘Very good, my son; and if he should ask me what is the matter, what am I to say?’

‘Tell him all my body aches badly; I have no single part without pain.’

The old woman went upstairs, and she found the mistress and master sitting on a couch of marble spread with soft cushions, and they asked her, ‘Well, old woman, what do you want?’

‘To tell the master the gazelle is ill,’ said she.

‘What is the matter?’ asked the wife.

‘All its body pains; there is no part without pain.’

‘Well, what can I do? Make some gruel of red millet, and give to it.’

But his wife stared and said: ‘Oh, master, do you tell her to make the gazelle gruel out of red millet, which a horse would not eat? Eh, master, that is not well.’

But he answered, ‘Oh, you are mad! Rice is only kept for people.’

‘Eh, master, this is not like a gazelle. It is the apple of your eye. If sand got into that, it would trouble you.’

‘My wife, your tongue is long,’ and he left the room.

The old woman saw she had spoken vainly, and went back weeping to the gazelle. And when the gazelle saw her it said, ‘Mother, what is it, and why do you cry? If it be good, give me the answer; and if it be bad, give me the answer.’

But still the old woman would not speak, and the gazelle prayed her to let it know the words of the master. At last she said: ‘I went upstairs and found the mistress and the master sitting on a couch, and he asked me what I wanted, and I told him that you, his slave, were ill. And his wife asked what was the matter, and I told her that there was not a part of your body without pain. And the master told me to take some red millet and make you gruel, but the mistress said, ‘Eh, master, the gazelle is the apple of your eye; you have no child, this gazelle is like your child; so this gazelle is not one to be done evil to. This is a gazelle in form, but not a gazelle in heart; he is in all things better than a gentleman, be he who he may.’

And he answered her, ‘Silly chatterer, your words are many. I know its price; I bought it for an eighth. What loss will it be to me?’

The gazelle kept silence for a few moments. Then it said, ‘The elders said, “One that does good like a mother,” and I have done him good, and I have got this that the elders said. But go up again to the master, and tell him the gazelle is very ill, and it has not drunk the gruel of red millet.’

So the old woman returned, and found the master and the mistress drinking coffee. And when he heard what the gazelle had said, he cried: ‘Hold your peace, old woman, and stay your feet and close your eyes, and stop your ears with wax; and if the gazelle bids you come to me, say your legs are bent, and you cannot walk; and if it begs you to listen, say your ears are stopped with wax; and if it wishes to talk, reply that your tongue has got a hook in it.’

The heart of the old woman wept as she heard such words, because she saw that when the gazelle first came to that town it was ready to sell its life to buy wealth for its master. Then it happened to get both life and wealth, but now it had no honour with its master.

And tears sprung likewise to the eyes of the sultan’s wife, and she said, ‘I am sorry for you, my husband, that you should deal so wickedly with that gazelle’; but he only answered, ‘Old woman, pay no heed to the talk of the mistress: tell it to perish out of the way. I cannot sleep, I cannot eat, I cannot drink, for the worry of that gazelle. Shall a creature that I bought for an eighth trouble me from morning till night? Not so, old woman!’

The old woman went downstairs, and there lay the gazelle, blood flowing from its nostrils. And she took it in her arms and said, ‘My son, the good you did is lost; there remains only patience.’

And it said, ‘Mother, I shall die, for my soul is full of anger and bitterness. My face is ashamed, that I should have done good to my master, and that he should repay me with evil.’ It paused for a moment, and then went on, ‘Mother, of the goods that are in this house, what do I eat? I might have every day half a basinful, and would my master be any the poorer? But did not the elders say, “He that does good like a mother!”’

And it said, ‘Go and tell my master that the gazelle is nearer death than life.’

So she went, and spoke as the gazelle had bidden her; but he answered, ‘I have told you to trouble me no more.’

But his wife’s heart was sore, and she said to him: ‘Ah, master, what has the gazelle done to you? How has he failed you? The things you do to him are not good, and you will draw on yourself the hatred of the people. For this gazelle is loved by all, by small and great, by women and men. Ah, my husband! I thought you had great wisdom, and you have not even a little!’

But he answered, ‘You are mad, my wife.’

The old woman stayed no longer, and went back to the gazelle, followed secretly by the mistress, who called a maidservant and bade her take some milk and rice and cook it for the gazelle.

‘Take also this cloth,’ she said, ‘to cover it with, and this pillow for its head. And if the gazelle wants more, let it ask me, and not its master. And if it will, I will send it in a litter to my father, and he will nurse it till it is well.’

And the maidservant did as her mistress bade her, and said what her mistress had told her to say, but the gazelle made no answer, but turned over on its side and died quietly.

When the news spread abroad, there was much weeping among the people, and Sultan Darai arose in wrath, and cried, ‘You weep for that gazelle as if you wept for me! And, after all, what is it but a gazelle, that I bought for an eighth?’

But his wife answered, ‘Master, we looked upon that gazelle as we looked upon you. It was the gazelle who came to ask me of my father, it was the gazelle who brought me from my father, and I was given in charge to the gazelle by my father.’

And when the people heard her they lifted up their voices and spoke:

‘We never saw you, we saw the gazelle. It was the gazelle who met with trouble here, it was the gazelle who met with rest here.

So, then, when such an one departs from this world we weep for ourselves, we do not weep for the gazelle.’

And they said furthermore:

‘The gazelle did you much good, and if anyone says he could have done more for you he is a liar! Therefore, to us who have done you no good, what treatment will you give? The gazelle has died from bitterness of soul, and you ordered your slaves to throw it into the well. Ah! leave us alone that we may weep.’

But Sultan Darai would not heed their words, and the dead gazelle was thrown into the well.

When the mistress heard of it, she sent three slaves, mounted on donkeys, with a letter to her father the sultan, and when the sultan had read the letter he bowed his head and wept, like a man who had lost his mother. And he commanded horses to be saddled, and called the governor and the judges and all the rich men, and said:

‘Come now with me; let us go and bury it.’

Night and day they travelled, till the sultan came to the well where the gazelle had been thrown. And it was a large well, built round a rock, with room for many people; and the sultan entered, and the judges and the rich men followed him. And when he saw the gazelle lying there he wept afresh, and took it in his arms and carried it away.

When the three slaves went and told their mistress what the sultan had done, and how all the people were weeping, she answered:

‘I too have eaten no food, neither have I drunk water, since the day the gazelle died. I have not spoken, and I have not laughed.’

The sultan took the gazelle and buried it, and ordered the people to wear mourning for it, so there was great mourning throughout the city.

Now after the days of mourning were at an end, the wife was sleeping at her husband’s side, and in her sleep she dreamed that she was once more in her father’s house, and when she woke up it was no dream.

And the man dreamed that he was on the dust-heap, scratching. And when he woke, behold! that also was no dream, but the truth.

(Swahili Tales.)

HOW A FISH SWAM IN THE AIR AND A HARE IN THE WATER.

Once upon a time an old man and his wife lived together in a little village. They might have been happy if only the old woman had had the sense to hold her tongue at proper times. But anything which might happen indoors, or any bit of news which her husband might bring in when he had been anywhere, had to be told at once to the whole village, and these tales were repeated and altered till it often happened that much mischief was made, and the old man’s back paid for it.

One day, he drove to the forest. When he reached the edge of it he got out of his cart and walked beside it. Suddenly he stepped on such a soft spot that his foot sank in the earth.

‘What can this be?’ thought he. ‘I’ll dig a bit and see.’

So he dug and dug, and at last he came on a little pot full of gold and silver.

‘Oh, what luck! Now, if only I knew how I could take this treasure home with me----but I can never hope to hide it from my wife, and once she knows of it she’ll tell all the world, and then I shall get into trouble.’

He sat down and thought over the matter a long time, and at last he made a plan. He covered up the pot again with earth and twigs, and drove on into the town, where he bought a live pike and a live hare in the market.

Then he drove back to the forest and hung the pike up at the very top of a tree, and tied up the hare in a fishing net and fastened it on the edge of a little stream, not troubling himself to think how unpleasant such a wet spot was likely to be to the hare.

Then he got into his cart and trotted merrily home.

‘Wife!’ cried he, the moment he got indoors. ‘You can’t think what a piece of good luck has come our way.’

‘What, what, dear husband? Do tell me all about it at once.’

‘No, no, you’ll just go off and tell everyone.’

‘No, indeed! How can you think such things! For shame! If you like I will swear never to----’

‘Oh, well! if you are really in earnest then, listen.’

And he whispered in her ear: ‘I’ve found a pot full of gold and silver in the forest! Hush!----’

‘And why didn’t you bring it back?’

‘Because we’ll drive there together and bring it carefully back between us.’

So the man and his wife drove to the forest.

As they were driving along the man said:

‘What strange things one hears, wife! I was told only the other day that fish will now live and thrive in the tree tops and that some wild animals spend their time in the water. Well! well! times are certainly changed.’

‘Why, you must be crazy, husband! Dear, dear, what nonsense people do talk sometimes.’

‘Nonsense, indeed! Why, just look. Bless my soul, if there isn’t a fish, a real pike I do believe, up in that tree.’

‘Gracious!’ cried his wife. ‘How did a pike get there? It IS a pike--you needn’t attempt to say it’s not. Can people have said true----’

But the man only shook his head and shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth and gaped as if he really could not believe his own eyes.

‘What are you standing staring at there, stupid?’ said his wife. ‘Climb up the tree quick and catch the pike, and we’ll cook it for dinner.’

The man climbed up the tree and brought down the pike, and they drove on.

When they got near the stream he drew up.

‘What are you staring at again?’ asked his wife impatiently. ‘Drive on, can’t you?’

‘Why, I seem to see something moving in that net I set. I must just go and see what it is.’

He ran to it, and when he had looked in it he called to his wife:

‘Just look! Here is actually a four-footed creature caught in the net. I do believe it’s a hare.’

‘Good heavens!’ cried his wife. ‘How did the hare get into your net? It IS a hare, so you needn’t say it isn’t. After all, people must have said the truth----’

But her husband only shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as if he could not believe his own eyes.

‘Now what are you standing there for, stupid?’ cried his wife. ‘Take up the hare. A nice fat hare is a dinner for a feast day.’

The old man caught up the hare, and they drove on to the place where the treasure was buried. They swept the twigs away, dug up the earth, took out the pot, and drove home again with it.

And now the old couple had plenty of money and were cheery and comfortable. But the wife was very foolish. Every day she asked a lot of people to dinner and feasted them, till her husband grew quite impatient. He tried to reason with her, but she would not listen.

‘You’ve got no right to lecture me!’ said she. ‘We found the treasure together, and together we will spend it.’

Her husband took patience, but at length he said to her: ‘You may do as you please, but I sha’n’t give you another penny.’

The old woman was very angry. ‘Oh, what a good-for-nothing fellow to want to spend all the money himself! But just wait a bit and see what I shall do.’

Off she went to the governor to complain of her husband.

‘Oh, my lord, protect me from my husband! Ever since he found the treasure there is no bearing him. He only eats and drinks, and won’t work, and he keeps all the money to himself.’

The governor took pity on the woman, and ordered his chief secretary to look into the matter.

The secretary called the elders of the village together, and went with them to the man’s house.

‘The governor,’ said he, ‘desires you to give all that treasure you found into my care.’

The man shrugged his shoulders and said: ‘What treasure? I know nothing about a treasure.’

‘How? You know nothing? Why your wife has complained of you. Don’t attempt to tell lies. If you don’t hand over all the money at once you will be tried for daring to raise treasure without giving due notice to the governor about it.’

‘Pardon me, your excellency, but what sort of treasure was it supposed to have been? My wife must have dreamt of it, and you gentlemen have listened to her nonsense.’

‘Nonsense, indeed,’ broke in his wife. ‘A kettle full of gold and silver, do you call that nonsense?’

‘You are not in your right mind, dear wife. Sir, I beg your pardon. Ask her how it all happened, and if she convinces you I’ll pay for it with my life.’

‘This is how it all happened, Mr. Secretary,’ cried the wife. ‘We were driving through the forest, and we saw a pike up in the top of a tree----’

‘What, a PIKE?’ shouted the secretary. ‘Do you think you may joke with me, pray?’

‘Indeed, I’m not joking, Mr. Secretary! I’m speaking the bare truth.’

‘Now you see, gentlemen,’ said her husband, ‘how far you can trust her, when she chatters like this.’

‘Chatter, indeed? I!! Perhaps you have forgotten, too, how we found a live hare in the river?’

Everyone roared with laughter; even the secretary smiled and stroked his beard, and the man said:

‘Come, come, wife, everyone is laughing at you. You see for yourself, gentlemen, how far you can believe her.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ said the village elders, ‘it is certainly the first time we have heard that hares thrive in the water or fish among the tree tops.’

The secretary could make nothing of it all, and drove back to the town. The old woman was so laughed at that she had to hold her tongue and obey her husband ever after, and the man bought wares with part of the treasure and moved into the town, where he opened a shop, and prospered, and spent the rest of his days in peace.

TWO IN A SACK

What a life that poor man led with his wife, to be sure! Not a day passed without her scolding him and calling him names, and indeed sometimes she would take the broom from behind the stove and beat him with it. He had no peace or comfort at all, and really hardly knew how to bear it.

One day, when his wife had been particularly unkind and had beaten him black and blue, he strolled slowly into the fields, and as he could not endure to be idle he spread out his nets.

What kind of bird do you think he caught in his net? He caught a crane, and the crane said, ‘Let me go free, and I’ll show myself grateful.’

The man answered, ‘No, my dear fellow. I shall take you home, and then perhaps my wife won’t scold me so much.’

Said the crane: ‘You had better come with me to my house,’ and so they went to the crane’s house.

When they got there, what do you think the crane took from the wall? He took down a sack, and he said:

‘Two out of a sack!’

Instantly two pretty lads sprang out of the sack. They brought in oak tables, which they spread with silken covers, and placed all sorts of delicious dishes and refreshing drinks on them. The man had never seen anything so beautiful in his life, and he was delighted.

Then the crane said to him, ‘Now take this sack to your wife.’

The man thanked him warmly, took the sack, and set out.

His home was a good long way off, and as it was growing dark, and he was feeling tired, he stopped to rest at his cousin’s house by the way.

The cousin had three daughters, who laid out a tempting supper, but the man would eat nothing, and said to his cousin, ‘Your supper is bad.’

‘Oh, make the best of it,’ said she, but the man only said: ‘Clear away!’ and taking out his sack he cried, as the crane had taught him:

‘Two out of the sack!’

And out came the two pretty boys, who quickly brought in the oak tables, spread the silken covers, and laid out all sorts of delicious dishes and refreshing drinks.

Never in their lives had the cousin and her daughters seen such a supper, and they were delighted and astonished at it. But the cousin quietly made up her mind to steal the sack, so she called to her daughters: ‘Go quickly and heat the bathroom: I am sure our dear guest would like to have a bath before he goes to bed.’

When the man was safe in the bathroom she told her daughters to make a sack exactly like his, as quickly as possible. Then she changed the two sacks, and hid the man’s sack away.

The man enjoyed his bath, slept soundly, and set off early next morning, taking what he believed to be the sack the crane had given him.

All the way home he felt in such good spirits that he sang and whistled as he walked through the wood, and never noticed how the birds were twittering and laughing at him.

As soon as he saw his house he began to shout from a distance, ‘Hallo! old woman! Come out and meet me!’

His wife screamed back: ‘You come here, and I’ll give you a good thrashing with the poker!’

The man walked into the house, hung his sack on a nail, and said, as the crane had taught him:

‘Two out of the sack!’

But not a soul came out of the sack.

Then he said again, exactly as the crane had taught him:

‘Two out of the sack!’

His wife, hearing him chattering goodness knows what, took up her wet broom and swept the ground all about him.

The man took flight and rushed oft into the field, and there he found the crane marching proudly about, and to him he told his tale.

‘Come back to my house,’ said the crane, and so they went to the crane’s house, and as soon as they got there, what did the crane take down from the wall? Why, he took down a sack, and he said:

‘Two out of the sack!’

And instantly two pretty lads sprang out of the sack, brought in oak tables, on which they laid silken covers, and spread all sorts of delicious dishes and refreshing drinks on them.

‘Take this sack,’ said the crane.

The man thanked him heartily, took the sack, and went. He had a long way to walk, and as he presently got hungry, he said to the sack, as the crane had taught him:

‘Two out of the sack!’

And instantly two rough men with thick sticks crept out of the bag and began to beat him well, crying as they did so:

‘Don’t boast to your cousins of what you have got,
One--two--
Or you’ll find you will catch it uncommonly hot,
One--two--’

And they beat on till the man panted out:

‘Two into the sack.’

The words were hardly out of his mouth, when the two crept back into the sack.

Then the man shouldered the sack, and went off straight to his cousin’s house. He hung the sack up on a nail, and said: ‘Please have the bathroom heated, cousin.’

The cousin heated the bathroom, and the man went into it, but he neither washed nor rubbed himself, he just sat there and waited.

Meantime his cousin felt hungry, so she called her daughters, and all four sat down to table. Then the mother said:

‘Two out of the sack.’

Instantly two rough men crept out of the sack, and began to beat the cousin as they cried:

‘Greedy pack! Thievish pack!
One--two--
Give the peasant back his sack!
One--two--’

And they went on beating till the woman called to her eldest daughter: ‘Go and fetch your cousin from the bathroom. Tell him these two ruffians are beating me black and blue.’

‘I’ve not finished rubbing myself yet,’ said the peasant.

And the two ruffians kept on beating as they sang:

‘Greedy pack! Thievish pack!
One--two-- Give the peasant back his sack!

One--two--’

Then the woman sent her second daughter and said: ‘Quick, quick, get him to come to me.’

‘I’m just washing my head,’ said the man.

Then she sent the youngest girl, and he said: ‘I’ve not done drying myself.’

At last the woman could hold out no longer, and sent him the sack she had stolen.

NOW he had quite finished his bath, and as he left the bathroom he cried:

‘Two into the sack.’

And the two crept back at once into the sack.

Then the man took both sacks, the good and the bad one, and went away home.

When he was near the house he shouted: ‘Hallo, old woman, come and meet me!’

His wife only screamed out:

‘You broomstick, come here! Your back shall pay for this.’

The man went into the cottage, hung his sack on a nail, and said, as the crane had taught him:

‘Two out of the sack.’

Instantly two pretty lads sprang out of the sack, brought in oak tables, laid silken covers on them, and spread them with all sorts of delicious dishes and refreshing drinks.

The woman ate and drank, and praised her husband.

‘Well, now, old man, I won’t beat you any more,’ said she.

When they had done eating, the man carried off the good sack, and put it away in his store-room, but hung the bad sack up on the nail. Then he lounged up and down in the yard.

Meantime his wife became thirsty. She looked with longing eyes at the sack, and at last she said, as her husband had done:

‘Two out of the sack.’

And at once the two rogues with their big sticks crept out of the sack, and began to belabour her as they sang:

‘Would you beat your husband true?

Don’t cry so!
Now we’ll beat you black and blue!
Oh! Oh!’

The woman screamed out: ‘Old man, old man! Come here, quick! Here are two ruffians pommelling me fit to break my bones.’

Her husband only strolled up and down and laughed, as he said: ‘Yes, they’ll beat you well, old lady.’

And the two thumped away and sang again:

‘Blows will hurt, remember, crone,
We mean you well, we mean you well;
In future leave the stick alone,

For how it hurts, you now can tell,
One--two--’

At last her husband took pity on her, and cried:

‘Two into the sack.’

He had hardly said the words before they were back in the sack again.

From this time the man and his wife lived so happily together that it was a pleasure to see them, and so the story has an end.

(From Russiche Marchen.)

THE ENVIOUS NEIGHBOUR

Long, long ago an old couple lived in a village, and, as they had no children to love and care for, they gave all their affection to a little dog. He was a pretty little creature, and instead of growing spoilt and disagreeable at not getting everything he wanted, as even children will do sometimes, the dog was grateful to them for their kindness, and never left their side, whether they were in the house or out of it.

One day the old man was working in his garden, with his dog, as usual, close by. The morning was hot, and at last he put down his spade and wiped his wet forehead, noticing, as he did so, that the animal was snuffling and scratching at a spot a little way off. There was nothing very strange in this, as all dogs are fond of scratching, and he went on quietly with his digging, when the dog ran up to his master, barking loudly, and back again to the place where he had been scratching. This he did several times, till the old man wondered what could be the matter, and, picking up the spade, followed where the dog led him. The dog was so delighted at his success that he jumped round, barking loudly, till the noise brought the old woman out of the house.

Curious to know if the dog had really found anything, the husband began to dig, and very soon the spade struck against something. He stooped down and pulled out a large box, filled quite full with shining gold pieces. The box was so heavy that the old woman had to help to carry it home, and you may guess what a supper the dog had that night! Now that he had made them rich, they gave him every day all that a dog likes best to eat, and the cushions on which he lay were fit for a prince.

The story of the dog and his treasure soon became known, and a neighbour whose garden was next the old people’s grew so envious of their good luck that he could neither eat nor sleep. As the dog had discovered a treasure once, this foolish man thought he must be able to discover one always, and begged the old couple to lend him their pet for a little while, so that he might be made rich also.

‘How can you ask such a thing?’ answered the old man indignantly.

‘You know how much we love him, and that he is never out of our sight for five minutes.’

But the envious neighbour would not heed his words, and came daily with the same request, till at last the old people, who could not bear to say no to anyone, promised to lend the dog, just for a night or two. No sooner did the man get hold of the dog than he turned him into the garden, but the dog did nothing but race about, and the man was forced to wait with what patience he could.

The next morning the man opened the house door, and the dog bounded joyfully into the garden, and, running up to the foot of a tree, began to scratch wildly. The man called loudly to his wife to bring a spade, and followed the dog, as he longed to catch the first glimpse of the expected treasure. But when he had dug up the ground, what did he find? Why, nothing but a parcel of old bones, which smelt so badly that he could not stay there a moment longer. And his heart was filled with rage against the dog who had played him this trick, and he seized a pickaxe and killed it on the spot, before he knew what he was doing. When he remembered that he would have to go with his story to the old man and his wife he was rather frightened, but there was nothing to be gained by putting it off, so he pulled a very long face and went to his neighbour’s garden.

‘Your dog,’ said he, pretending to weep, ‘has suddenly fallen down dead, though I took every care of him, and gave him everything he could wish for. And I thought I had better come straight and tell you.’

Weeping bitterly, the old man went to fetch the body of his favourite, and brought it home and buried it under the fig-tree where he had found the treasure. From morning till night he and his wife mourned over their loss, and nothing could comfort them.

At length, one night when he was asleep, he dreamt that the dog appeared to him and told him to cut down the fig-tree over his grave, and out of its wood to make a mortar. But when the old man woke and thought of his dream he did not feel at all inclined to cut down the tree, which bore well every year, and consulted his wife about it. The woman did not hesitate a moment, and said that after what had happened before, the dog’s advice must certainly be obeyed, so the tree was felled, and a beautiful mortar made from it. And when the season came for the rice crop to be gathered the mortar was taken down from its shelf, and the grains placed in it for pounding, when, lo and behold! in a twinkling of an eye, they all turned into gold pieces. At the sight of all this gold the hearts of the old people were glad, and once more they blessed their faithful dog.

But it was not long before this story also came to the ears of their envious neighbour, and he lost no time in going to the old people and asking if they happened to have a mortar which they could lend him. The old man did not at all like parting with his precious treasure, but he never could say no, so the neighbour went off with the mortar under his arm.

The moment he got into his own house he took a great handful of rice, and began to shell off the husks, with the help of his wife. But, instead of the gold pieces for which they looked, the rice turned into berries with such a horrible smell that they were obliged to run away, after smashing the mortar in a rage and setting fire to the bits.

The old people next door were naturally very much put out when they learned the fate of their mortar, and were not at all comforted by the explanations and excuses made by their neighbour. But that night the dog again appeared in a dream to his master, and told him that he must go and collect the ashes of the burnt mortar and bring them home. Then, when he heard that the Daimio, or great lord to whom this part of the country belonged, was expected at the capital, he was to carry the ashes to the high road, through which the procession would have to pass. And as soon as it was in sight he was to climb up all the cherry-trees and sprinkle the ashes on them, and they would soon blossom as they had never blossomed before.

This time the old man did not wait to consult his wife as to whether he was to do what his dog had told him, but directly he got up he went to his neighbour’s house and collected the ashes of the burnt mortar. He put them carefully in a china vase, and carried it to the high road, Sitting down on a seat till the Daimio should pass. The cherry-trees were bare, for it was the season when small pots of them were sold to rich people, who kept them in hot places, so that they might blossom early and decorate their rooms. As to the trees in the open air, no one would ever think of looking for the tiniest bud for more than a month yet. The old man had not been waiting very long before he saw a cloud of dust in the far distance, and knew that it must be the procession of the Daimio. On they came, every man dressed in his finest clothes, and the crowd that was lining the road bowed their faces to the ground as they went by. Only the old man did not bow himself, and the great lord saw this, and bade one of his courtiers, in anger, go and inquire why he had disobeyed the ancient customs. But before the messenger could reach him the old man had climbed the nearest tree and scattered his ashes far and wide, and in an instant the white flowers had flashed into life, and the heart of the Daimio rejoiced, and he gave rich presents to the old man, whom he sent for to his castle.

We may be sure that in a very little while the envious neighbour had heard this also, and his bosom was filled with hate. He hastened to the place where he had burned the mortar, collected a few of the ashes which the old man had left behind, and took them to the road, hoping that his luck might be as good as the old man’s, or perhaps even better. His heart beat with pleasure when he caught the first glimpses of the Daimio’s train, and he held himself ready for the right moment. As the Daimio drew near he flung a great handful of ashes over the trees, but no buds or flowers followed the action: instead, the ashes were all blown back into the eyes of the Daimio and his warriors, till they cried out from pain. Then the prince ordered the evil-doer to be seized and bound and thrown into prison, where he was kept for many months. By the time he was set free everybody in his native village had found out his wickedness, and they would not let him live there any longer; and as he would not leave off his evil ways he soon went from bad to worse, and came to a miserable end.

(Japanische Marchen.)

THE FAIRY OF THE DAWN

Once upon a time what should happen DID happen; and if it had not happened this tale would never have been told.

There was once an emperor, very great and mighty, and he ruled over an empire so large that no one knew where it began and where it ended. But if nobody could tell the exact extent of his sovereignty everybody was aware that the emperor’s right eye laughed, while his left eye wept. One or two men of valour had the courage to go and ask him the reason of this strange fact, but he only laughed and said nothing; and the reason of the deadly enmity between his two eyes was a secret only known to the monarch himself.

And all the while the emperor’s sons were growing up. And such sons! All three like the morning stars in the sky!

Florea, the eldest, was so tall and broad-shouldered that no man in the kingdom could approach him.

Costan, the second, was quite different. Small of stature, and slightly built, he had a strong arm and stronger wrist.

Petru, the third and youngest, was tall and thin, more like a girl than a boy. He spoke very little, but laughed and sang, sang and laughed, from morning till night. He was very seldom serious, but then he had a way when he was thinking of stroking his hair over his forehead, which made him look old enough to sit in his father’s council!

‘You are grown up, Florea,’ said Petru one day to his eldest brother; ‘do go and ask father why one eye laughs and the other weeps.’

But Florea would not go. He had learnt by experience that this question always put the emperor in a rage.

Petru next went to Costan, but did not succeed any better with him.

‘Well, well, as everyone else is afraid, I suppose I must do it myself,’ observed Petru at length. No sooner said than done; the boy went straight to his father and put his question.

‘May you go blind!’ exclaimed the emperor in wrath; ‘what business is it of yours?’ and boxed Petru’s ears soundly.

Petru returned to his brothers, and told them what had befallen him; but not long after it struck him that his father’s left eye seemed to weep less, and the right to laugh more.

‘I wonder if it has anything to do with my question,’ thought he.

‘I’ll try again! After all, what do two boxes on the ear matter?’

So he put his question for the second time, and had the same answer; but the left eye only wept now and then, while the right eye looked ten years younger.

‘It really MUST be true,’ thought Petru. ‘Now I know what I have to do. I shall have to go on putting that question, and getting boxes on the ear, till both eyes laugh together.’

No sooner said than done. Petru never, never forswore himself.

‘Petru, my dear boy,’ cried the emperor, both his eyes laughing together, ‘I see you have got this on the brain. Well, I will let you into the secret. My right eye laughs when I look at my three sons, and see how strong and handsome you all are, and the other eye weeps because I fear that after I die you will not be able to keep the empire together, and to protect it from its enemies. But if you can bring me water from the spring of the Fairy of the Dawn, to bathe my eyes, then they will laugh for evermore; for I shall know that my sons are brave enough to overcome any foe.’

Thus spoke the emperor, and Petru picked up his hat and went to find his brothers.

The three young men took counsel together, and talked the subject well over, as brothers should do. And the end of it was that Florea, as the eldest, went to the stables, chose the best and handsomest horse they contained, saddled him, and took leave of the court.

‘I am starting at once,’ said he to his brothers, ‘and if after a year, a month, a week, and a day I have not returned with the water from the spring of the Fairy of the Dawn, you, Costan, had better come after me.’ So saying he disappeared round a corner of the palace.

For three days and three nights he never drew rein. Like a spirit the horse flew over mountains and valleys till he came to the borders of the empire. Here was a deep, deep trench that girdled it the whole way round, and there was only a single bridge by which the trench could be crossed. Florea made instantly for the bridge, and there pulled up to look around him once more, to take leave of his native land Then he turned, but before him was standing a dragon--oh! SUCH a dragon!--a dragon with three heads and three horrible faces, all with their mouths wide open, one jaw reaching to heaven and the other to earth.

At this awful sight Florea did not wait to give battle. He put spurs to his horse and dashed off, WHERE he neither knew nor cared.

The dragon heaved a sigh and vanished without leaving a trace behind him.

A week went by. Florea did not return home. Two passed; and nothing was heard of him. After a month Costan began to haunt the stables and to look out a horse for himself. And the moment the year, the month, the week, and the day were over Costan mounted his horse and took leave of his youngest brother.

‘If I fail, then you come,’ said he, and followed the path that Florea had taken.

The dragon on the bridge was more fearful and his three heads more terrible than before, and the young hero rode away still faster than his brother had done.

Nothing more was heard either of him or Florea; and Petru remained alone.

‘I must go after my brothers,’ said Petru one day to his father.

‘Go, then,’ said his father, ‘and may you have better luck than they’; and he bade farewell to Petru, who rode straight to the borders of the kingdom.

The dragon on the bridge was yet more dreadful than the one Florea and Costan had seen, for this one had seven heads instead of only three.

Petru stopped for a moment when he caught sight of this terrible creature. Then he found his voice.

‘Get out of the way!’ cried he. ‘Get out of the way!’ he repeated again, as the dragon did not move. ‘Get out of the way!’ and with this last summons he drew his sword and rushed upon him. In an instant the heavens seemed to darken round him and he was surrounded by fire--fire to right of him, fire to left of him, fire to front of him, fire to rear of him; nothing but fire whichever way he looked, for the dragon’s seven heads were vomiting flame.

The horse neighed and reared at the horrible sight, and Petru could not use the sword he had in readiness.

‘Be quiet! this won’t do!’ he said, dismounting hastily, but holding the bridle firmly in his left hand and grasping his sword in his right.

But even so he got on no better, for he could see nothing but fire and smoke.

‘There is no help for it; I must go back and get a better horse,’ said he, and mounted again and rode homewards.

At the gate of the palace his nurse, old Birscha, was waiting for him eagerly.

‘Ah, Petru, my son, I knew you would have to come back,’ she cried. ‘You did not set about the matter properly.’

‘How ought I to have set about it?’ asked Petru, half angrily, half sadly.

‘Look here, my boy,’ replied old Birscha. ‘You can never reach the spring of the Fairy of the Dawn unless you ride the horse which your father, the emperor, rode in his youth. Go and ask where it is to be found, and then mount it and be off with you.’