On the third day the youth wished to drink wine from the king's table and sent Snorium to fetch some. Every-

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

thing now took place as before. The dog burst through the guard, entered the drinking apartment, caressed the princess, but struck the false courtier a blow that sent him tumbling head over heels on the floor; then, seizing a flask of wine, he ran off. The king was sorely vexed at all this, and sent the courtier with a number of people to seize the stranger who owned the three dogs. The courtier went, and came to where the young man dwelt with the poor fisherman. But there another game began; for the youth called to his three dogs: "Snipp! Snapp! Snorium! clear the house." In an instant the dogs rushed forward, and in a twinkling all the king's men lay on the ground.

The youth then caused the courtier to be bound hand and foot, and proceeded tO' the apartment where the king was sitting at table with his men. When he entered, the princess ran to meet him with great affection, and began relating to her father how the courtier had deceived him. When the king heard all this, and recognised his daughter's gold chain and ring, he ordered the courtier to be cast to the three dogs; but the brave youth obtained the princess, and with her half the kingdom.

In another version from South Smaland, it is related that there was a peasant's son, who tended the cattle of the village in the forest, and who one day met a huntsman mounted on a tall horse, and accompanied by three very large dogs. The dogs were far more powerful than other dogs, and were named Break-iron, Strike-down, and Hold-fast. The boy becomes master of the three dogs; but it is a current story among the people,

THE THREE DOGS

that the huntsman, who gave them to him, could be no other than Odin himself.

The youth then bids his employment farewell, and sets out in search of the king's daughter, who has been carried off. In his wanderings he meets with an aged crone, who directs him on the way. But the princess is confined in a large castle, that is well provided with locks and bars; and the lord of the castle has fixed his marriage with the fair damsel to be solemnized within a few days.

The youth is now at a loss how he can gain entrance into the castle. With this object he goes tO' the warders, and asks for employment to procure game for the feast. He is admitted, goes to the forest, and gets an abundance of game. Towards evening he returns, and in the night calls his dog. Break-iron, orders him to clear the way, and so, in spite of doors and bars, reaches the tower in which the princess is confined. The noise wakes the lord of the castle, who comes hurrying to the spot with weapons and attendans. But the youth calls his other two dogs. Strike-down and Hold-fast, and a bloody fight ensues, which ends in the youth's favour, who takes possession of the whole castle.

After the release of the princess the herd-boy sets out on his return to the old king, the damsel's father. On the way he has to engage in combat with a courtier, who would carry off the princess; but the youth is well seconded by his dogs, and comes off victor. The conclusion is the usual one, that the lad gets the king's daughter, and, after his father-in-law's death, becomes ruler over the whole realm.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

THE WIDOW'S SON.

There was once a very poor woman who had only one son. She toiled for him till he was old enough tO' be confirmed by the priest, when she told him, that she could support him no' longer, but that he must go out in the world and gain his own livelihood. So the youth set out, and, after wandering about for a day or two, he met a stranger. "Whither art thou going?" asked the man. "I am going out in the world to see if I can get an employment," answered the youth. "Wilt thou serve me?" "Yes, just as well serve you as anybody else," answered the youth. "Thou shalt be well cared for with me," said the man, "thou shalt only be my companion, and do little or nothing besides." So the youth resided with him, had plenty to eat and drink, and very little or nothing to do; but he never saw a living person in the man's house.

One day his master said to him: "I am going to travel, and shall be absent eight days, during that time thou wilt be here alone; but thou must not go into either of these four rooms; if thou dost I will kill thee when I return." The youth answered that he would not. When the man had been away three or four days, the youth could no longer refrain, but went into one of the rooms. He looked around, but saw nothing except a shelf over the door, with a whip made of briar on it. "This was well worth forbidding me so strictly from seeing," thought the youth. When the eight days had passed the

THE WIDOW'S SON

man came home again. "Thou hast not, I hope, been into any of the rooms," said he. "No, I have not," answered the youth. "That I shall soon be able to see," said the man, going into the room the youth had entered. "But thou hast been in," said he, "and now thou shalt die." The youth cried and entreated to be forgiven, so that he escaped with his life, but had a severe beating; when that was over, they were as good friends as before.

Some time after this, the man took another journey; this time he would be away a fortnight, but first forbade the youth again from going into any of the rooms he had not already been in; but the one he had previously entered he might enter again. This time all took place just as before, the only difference being that the youth abstained for eight days before he entered the forbidden rooms. In one apartment he found only a shelf over the door, on which lay a huge stone and a water-bottle. "This is also' something tO' be in such fear about," thought the youth again. When the man came home, he asked whether he had been in any of the rooms. "No, he had not," was the answer. "I shall soon see," said the man; and when he found that the youth had, nevertheless, been in, he said: "Now I will no longer spare thee, thou shalt die." But the youth cried and implored that his life might be spared, and thus again escaped with a beating; but this time he got as much as could be laid on him. When he had recovered from the effect of this beating he lived as well as ever, and he and the man were good friends as before.

Some time after this, the man again made a journey,

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

and now he was to be three weeks absent; he warned the youth anew not to enter the third room; if he did he must at once prepare to die. At the end of a fortnight, the youth had no longer any command over himself, and stole in; but here he saw nothing save a trap-door in the floor. He lifted it up and looked through; there stood a large copper kettle that boiled and bubbled, yet he could see no fire under it. "I should like to know if it is hot," thought the youth, dipping his finger down into it; but when he drew it up again, he found that all his finger was gilt. He scraped it and washed it, but the gilding was not to be removed; so he tied a rag over it, and when the man returned and asked him what was the matter with his finger, he answered, he had cut it badly. But the man, tearing the rag off, at once saw what ailed his finger. At first he was going to kill the youth, but as he cried and begged again, he merely beat him so that he was obliged to lie in bed for three days. The man then took a pot down from the wall and rubbed him with what it contained, so that the youth was as well as before.

After some time the man made another journey, and said he should not return for a month. He then told the youth that if he went into the fourth room, he must not think for a moment that his life would be spared. One, two, even three weeks the youth refrained from entering the forbidden room; but then having no longer any command over himself he stole in. There stood a large black horse in a stall, with a trough of burning embers at its head and a basket of hay at its tail. The youth thought this was cruel, and, therefore, changed their

THE WIDOW'S SON,

position, putting the basket o£ hay by the horse's head. The horse thereupon said: "As you have so kind a disposition that you enable me to get food, I will save you: should the Troll return and find you here, he will kill you. Now you must go up into the chamber above this, and take one of the suits of armour that hang there: but on no account take one that is bright; on the contrary, select the most rusty you can see, and take that; choose also a sword and saddle in like manner." The youth did so, but he found the whole very heavy for him to carry. When he came back the horse said, that now he should strip and wash himself well in the kettle, which stood boiling in the next apartment. "I feel afraid," thought the youth, but, nevertheless, did so. When he had washed himself, he became comely and plump, and as red and white as milk and blood, and much stronger than before. "Are you sensible of any change?" asked the horse. "Yes," answered the youth. "Try to lift me," said the horse. Aye that he could, and brandished the sword with ease. "Now lay the saddle on me," said the horse, "put on the armour, and take the whip of thorn, the stone, and the water-flask, and the pot with ointment, and then we will set out."

When the youth had mounted the horse, it started off at a rapid rate. After riding some time the horse said: "I think I hear a noise; look round, can you see anything?" "A great many are coming after us, certainly a score at least," answered the youth. "Ah! that is the Troll," said the horse, "he is coming with all his companions."

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

They travelled for a time until their pursuers were gaining on them. "Throw now the thorn whip over your shoulder," said the horse, "but throw it far away from me." The youth did so, and at the same moment there sprang up a large thick wood of briars. The youth now rode on a long way, while the Troll was obliged to go home for something wherewith tO' hew a road through the wood. After some time the horse again said: "Look back, can you see anything now?" "Yes, a whole multitude of people," said the youth, "like a church-congregation." "That is the Troll, he has got more with him; throw out the large stone, but throw it far from me."

When the youth had done what the horse desired, there arose a large stone mountain behind them. So the Troll was obliged to go home after something with which to bore through the mountain; and while he was thus employed, the youth rode on a considerable way. But now the horse again bade him look back; he then saw a multitude like a whole army, they were so bright that they glittered in the sun. "Well, that is the Troll with all his friends," said the horse. "Now throw the water-bottle behind you, but take good care to spill nothing on me!" The youth did so, but notwithstanding his caution he happened to spill a drop on the horse's loins. Immediately there rose a vast lake, and the spilling of the few drops caused the horse to stand far out in the water; nevertheless, he at last swam to the shore. When the Trolls came to the water they lay down to drink it all up, and they gulpt^d and gulped it down till they burst. "Now we are quit of them," said the horse.

THE WIDOW'S SON,

When they had travelled on a very long way they came to a green plain in a wood. "Take off your armour now," said the horse, "and put on your rags only, lift my saddle off and let me go loose, and hang everything up in that large hollow linden; make yourself then a wig of pine-moss, go to the royal palace which lies close by, and there ask for employment. When you desire to see me, come to this spot, shake the bridle, and I will instantly be with you."

The youth did as the horse told him; and when he put on the moss wig, he became so pale and miserable to look at, that no one would have recognised him. On reaching the palace, he only asked if he might serve in the kitchen to carry wood and water to the cook; but the cook-maid asked him, why he wore such an ugly wig? "Take it off," said she, "I will not have anybody here so frightful." "That I cannot," answered the youth; "for I am not very clean in the head." "Dost thou think then that I will have thee in the kitchen, if such be the case?" said she; "go to the master of the horse, thou are fittest to carry muck from the stables." When the master of the horse told him to take off his wig, he got the same answer, so he refused to have him. "Thou canst go to the gardener," said he, "thou art only fit to go and dig the ground." The gardener allowed him to remain, but none of the servants would sleep with him, so he was obliged to sleep alone under the stairs of the summer-house, which stood upon pillars and had a high staircase, under which he laid a quantity of moss for a bed, and there lay as well as he could.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

When he had been some time in the royal palace, it happened one morning, just at sunrise, that the youth had taken off his moss wig and was standing washing himself, and appeared so' handsome it was a pleasure to look on him. The princess saw from her window this comely gardener, and thought she had never before seen any one so handsome. She then asked the gardener why he lay out there under the stairs. "Because none of the other servants will lie with him," answered the gardener. "Let him come this evening and lie by the door in my room," said the princess; "they cannot refuse after that to let him sleep in the house."

The gardener told this to the youth. "Dost thou think I will do so?" said he. "If I do, all will say there is something between me and the princess." "Thou hast reason, forsooth, to fear such a suspicion," replied the gardener, "such a fine comely lad as thou art." "Well, if she has commanded it, I suppose I must comply," said the youth. In going up-stairs that evening he stamped and made such a noise that they were obliged to beg of him to gO' more gently lest it might come to the king's knowledge. When within the chamber, he lay down and began immediately to snore. The princess then said tO' her waiting-maid: "Go gently and pull off his moss wig." Creeping softly towards him, she was about to snatch it, but he held it fast with both hands, and said she should not have it. He then lay down again and began to snore. The princess again made a sign to the maid, and this time she snatched his wig off. There he lay so beautifully red and white, just

THE WIDOW'S SON,

as the princess had seen him in the morning sun. After this the youth slept every night in the princess's chamber.

But it was not long before the king heard that the garden-lad slept every night in the princess's chamber, at which he became so angry that he almost resolved on putting him to death. This, however, he did not do, but cast him into prison, and his daughter he confined to her room, not allowing her to go out, either by day or night. Her tears and prayers for herself and the youth were unheeded by the king, who only became the more incensed against her.

Some time after this, there arose a war and disturbances in the country, and the king was obliged to take arms and defend himself against another king, who threatened to deprive him of his throne. When the youth heard this he begged the gaoler would go to the king for him, and propose to let him have armour and a sword, and allow him to follow to the war. All the courtiers laughed, when the gaoler made known hjSs errand to the king. They begged he might have some old trumpery for armour, that they might enjoy the sport of seeing the poor creature in the war. He got the armour and also an old jade of a horse, which limped on three legs, dragging the fourth after it.

Thus they all marched forth against the enemy, but they had not gone far from the royal palace before the youth stuck fast with his old jade in a swamp. Here he sat beating and calling to the jade, "Hie! wilt thou go? hie! wilt thou go?" This amused all the others, who laughed and jeered as they passed. But no sooner were

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

they all gone, than, running to the linden, he put on his own armour, and shook the bridle, and immediately the horse appeared, and said: "Do thou do thy best and I will do mine."

When the youth arrived on the field, the battle had already begun, and the king was hardly pressed; but just at that moment the youth put the enemy to flight. The king and his attendants wondered who it could be that came to their help; but no one had been near enough to him to speak to him, and when the battle was over he was away. When they returned, the youth was still sitting fast in the swamp, beating and calling to his three-legged jade. They laughed as they passed, and said: "Only look, yonder sits the fool yet."

The next day when they marched out, the youth was still sitting there, and they again laughed and jeered at him; but no sooner had they all passed by than he ran again to the linden, and everything took place as on the previous day. Every one wondered who the stranger warrior was who had fought for them; but no one approached him so near that he could speak to him; of course no one ever imagined that it was the youth.

When they returned in the evening and saw him and his old jade still sticking fast in the swamp, they again made a jest of him; one shot an arrow at him and wounded him in the leg, and he began to cry and moan so that it was sad to hear, whereupon the king threw him his handkerchief that he might bind it about his leg. When they marched forth the third morning there sat the youth calling to his horse, "Hie! wilt thou go? hie!

THE WIDOW'S SON.

wilt thou go?" "No, no! he will stay there till he starves," said the king's men as they passed by, and laughed so heartily at him that they nearly fell from their horses. When they had all passed, he again ran to the linden, and came to the battle just at the right moment. That day he killed the enemy's king, and thus the war was at an end.

When the fighting was over, the king observed his handkerchief tied round the leg of the strange warrior, and by this he easily knew him. They received him with great joy, and carried him with them up to the royal palace, and the princess, who saw them from her window, was so delighted no one could tell. "There comes my beloved also," said she. He then took the pot of ointment and rubbed his leg, and afterwards all the wounded, so that they were all well again in a moment.

After this the king gave him the princess to wife. On the day of his marriage he went down into the stable to see the horse, and found him dull, hanging his ears and refusing to eat. When the young king—for he was now king, having obtained the half of the realm—spoke to him and asked him what he wanted, the horse said: "I have now helped thee forward in the world, and I will live no longer; thou must take thy sword, and cut my head off." "No, that I will not do," said the young king, "thou shalt have whatever thou wilt, and always live without working." "If thou wilt not do as I say," answered the horse, "I shall find a way of killing thee." The king was then obliged to slay him; but when he raised the sword to give the stroke he was so distressed

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

that he turned his face away; but no sooner had he struck his head off than there stood before him a handsome prince in the place of the horse.

"Whence in the name of Heaven didst thou come?" asked the king. "It was I who was the horse," answered the prince. "Formerly I was king of the country whose sovereign you slew yesterday; it was he who cast over me a horse's semblance, and sold me tO' the Troll. As he is killed, I shall recover my kingdom, and you and I shall be neighbouring kings; but we will never go to war with each other."

Neither did they; they were friends as long as they lived, and the one came often to visit the other.

THE THREE AUNTS.

There was once a poor man who lived in a hut far away in the forest, and supported himself on the game. He had an only daughter, who was very beautiful, and as her mother was dead and she was grown up, she said she would go out in the world and seek her own living. "It is true, my child," said her father, "that thou hast learnt nothing with me but to pluck and roast birds; but it is, nevertheless, well that thou shouldst earn thy bread." The young girl therefore went in search of work, and when she had gone some way, she came tO' the royal palace. There she remained, and the queen took such a liking to her that the other servants became quite jealous; they, therefore, contrived to tell the queen that the girl

THE THREE AUNTS

had boasted she could spin a pound of flax in twenty-four hours, knowing that the queen was very fond of all kinds of handiwork. "Well, if thou hast said it, thou shalt do it," said the queen to her. "But I will give thee a little longer time to do it in." The poor girl was afraid of saying she never had spun, but only begged she might have a room to herself. This was allowed, and the flax and spinning-wheel were carried up to it. Here she sat and cried, and was so unhappy she knew not what to do; she placed herself by the wheel and twisted and twirled at it without knowing how to use it; she had never even seen a spinning-wheel before.

But as she so sat, there came an old woman into the room. ''What's the matter, my child?" said she. "Oh," answered the young girl, "it is of no use that I tell you, for I am sure you cannot help me!" "That thou dost not know," said the crone. "It might happen, however, that I could help thee." "I may as well tell her," thought the girl; and so she related to her, how her fellow-servants had reported that she had said she could spin a pound of flax in twenty-four hours. "And poor I," added she, "have never before in all my life seen a spinning-wheel ; so far am I from being able to spin so much in one day." "Well, never mind," said the woman, "if thou wilt call me Aunt on thy wedding day, I will spin for thee, and thou canst lie down tO' sleep." That the young girl was quite willing to do, and went to bed.

In the morning when she awoke, all the flax was spun and lying on the table, and was so fine and delicate that no one had ever seen such even and beautiful thread.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

The queen was delighted with the beautiful thread she had now got, and on that account felt more attached to the young girl than before. But the other servants were still more jealous of her, and told the queen she had boasted that in twenty-four hours she could weave all the thread she had spun. The queen again answered: "If she had said that, she should do it; but if it were not done within the exact time, she would allow her a little longer." The poor girl durst not say no, but begged she might have a room to herself, and then she would do her best. Now she again sat crying and lamenting, and knew not what to do, when another old woman came in, and asked: "What ails thee, my child ?" The girl would not at first say, but at length told her what made her so sorrowful. "Well," answered the crone, "provided thou wilt call me Aunt upon thy wedding day I will weave for thee, and thou canst go to sleep." The young girl willingly agreed to do so, and went to bed.

When she awoke the piece of linen lay on the table woven, as fine and beautiful as it could be. The girl took it down to the queen, who was so delighted with the beautiful web which she had got, that she was fonder than ever of the young girl. At this the others were so exasperated that they thought of nothing but how they could injure her.

At length they told the queen, that she had boasted she could make the piece of linen into shirts in twenty-four hours. The girl was afraid to say she could not sew; and all took place as before: she was again put into a room alone, where she sat crying and unhappy. Now

THE THREE AUNTS

came another old woman to her, who promised to sew for her if she would call her Aunt upon her wedding day. This the young girl consented to do; she then did as the woman had desired her, and lay down to sleep. In the morning when she woke, she found that the linen was all made into shirts lying on the table, so beautiful that no one had ever seen the like; and they were all marked and completely finished. When the queen saw them she was so delighted with the work, that she clasped her hands together: ''Such beautiful work," she said, "I have never owned nor seen before." And from that time she was as fond of the young girl as if she had been her own child. "If thou wouldst like to marry the prince, thou shalt have him," said she to the maiden, "for thou wilt never need to put out anything to be made, as thou canst both spin and weave and sew everything for thyself." As the young girl was very handsome, and the prince loved her, the wedding took place directly. Just as the prince was seated at the bridal table with her, an old woman entered who had an enormously long nose; it was certainly three ells long.

The bride rose from the table, curtsied, and said to her: "Good day, Aunt." "Is that my bride's aunt?" asked the prince. "Yes, she is." "Then she must sit down at the table with us," said he; though both the prince and the rest of the company thought it very disagreeable to sit at table with such a person.

At the same moment another very ugly old woman came in; she was so thick and broad behind that she could hardly squeeze herself through the door. Imme-

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

diately the bride rose, and saluted her with a "Good day, Aunt;" and the prince asked again if she were his bride's aunt. They both answered "Yes:" the prince then said, if that were the case she must also take a place at the table with them.

She had hardly seated herself before there came in a third ugly old crone, whose eyes were as large as plates, and so red and running that it was shocking to look at. The bride rose again and said: "Good day. Aunt;" and the prince asked her also to sit down at table; but he was not well pleased, and thought within himself: "The Lord preserve me from my bride's aunts." After a short time he could not help asking: "How it came to pass that his bride, who was so beautiful, should have such ugly and deformed aunts." "That I will tell you," replied one of them. "I was as comely as your bride when at her age, but the reason of my having so long a nose is that I constantly and always sat jogging and nodding over the spinning-wheel, till my nose is become the length you see it." "And I," said the second, "ever since I was quite little, have sat upon the weaver's bench rocking to and fro; therefore am I become so broad and swelled as you see me." The third one said: "Ever since I was very young, I have sat poring over my work both night and day, therefore have my eyes become so red and ugly, and now there is no cure for them." "Ah! is that the case?" said the prince, "it is well that I know it; for if people become so ugly thereby, then my bride shall never spin, nor weave, nor work any more all her life."

SUCH WOMEN ARE

SUCH WOMEN ARE; OR, THE MAN FROM RINGERIGE AND THE THREE WOMEN.

Theri- was once a man and his wife who wanted to sow, but had no seed-corn, nor money to buy it. They had one cow, and this they agreed that the man should drive to the town and sell, to enable them to buy seed with the money. But when it came to the point, the woman was afraid to let her husband go with the cow, fearing he would spend the money in the town in drinking. "Hear now! father," said she, "I think it will be best for me to go, and then I can sell my old hen at the same time." "As thou wilt," answered the husband, "but act with discretion, and remember thou must have ten dollars for the cow." "Oh! that I shall," said the wife, and off she went with the cow and the hen.

Not far from the town she met a butcher. "Art thou going to sell thy cow, mother?" asked he. "Yes, that's what I am going to do," answered she. "How much dost thou want for it ?" "I want a mark for my cow, and my hen you shall have for ten dollars." ^ "Well! that's cheap," said the butcher; "but I am not in want of the hen, and that thou canst always get rid of when thou comest to the town; but for the cow I am willing to give thee a mark." So they settled the bargain, and the woman got her mark; but when she came into the town, there was not a person who would give her ten dollars for an old lean hen. She therefore went back to the

iThe rix dollar is equal to six marks, $1.44.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

butcher, and said: "Hear, my good man, I cannot get rid of my hen, so thou must take that also, as thou hast got the cow, and then I can go home with the money."

"Well! well! I dare say we shall strike a bargain for that also," said he. Hereupon he invited her in, gave her something to eat, and as much brandy as she could drink. "This is a delightful butcher," thought she, and kept on drinking so long that at last she completely lost her senses.

What now did the butcher do? While the woman was sleeping herself sober, he dipped her into' a tar barrel, then rolled her in a heap of feathers, and laid her down in a soft place, outside the house. When she awoke and found herself feathered from head to foot, she began tO' wonder, and said to herself: "What can be the matter with me? Is it I, or is it somebody else? No', this can never be me, this must be some strange, large bird. But what shall I do to know if it is really myself or not? Yes, now I know how I can find out whether it is myself. If the calves lick me and the dog does not bark at me, when I go home, then it is really myself."

The dog had hardly caught a glimpse of the strange animal that was entering the yard, before he set up a terrible barking; and the woman felt far from easy. "I begin to think it is not myself," said she; and when she went into the cattle-house, the calves would not lick her, as they smelt the strong tar. "No, I see now it cannot be me, it must be some wonderful strange bird, I may as well fly away." So creeping up on the top of the storeroom she began to flap with her arms as if they were

SUCH WOMEN ARE

wings, and tried to rise in the air. When the man saw this he seized his rifle, went out into the yard and was just taking aim. "Oh! no," exclaimed the woman, "don't shoot me, father, it is I, indeed it is." "Is it thou?" said her husband; "then don't stand up there like a fool, but come down and give an account of the money." The woman crept down again, but no money could she give him, as she had got none. She looked for the mark the butcher had given her for her cow, but even this she had lost while she was drunk. When the husband heard the whole story, he was so angry that he swore he would leave her and everything, and never return, unless he could find three other women who were as great fools as herself.

He set out accordingly, and had not gone far on the road, before he saw a woman running in and out of a newly-built cottage with an empty sieve in her hand. Every time she ran in, she threw her apron over the sieve as if there were something in it. "What is it you are so busy about, mother?" said the man. "Oh! I am only carrying a little sunshine into my new house; but I know not how it is; when I am out of doors I have plenty of sun in my sieve, ,but when I come in it is all away. When I was in my old hut, I had sun enough; although I never carried any in. If I only knew of any one who would bring sunshine into my house, I would willingly give him a hundred dollars." "I think there must be a way for that," answered the man. "If you have got an axe, I will soon procure you sun enough." He got the axe and made a couple of windows in the house, which

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

the carpenter had forgotten to do. Immediatel}^ the sun came in, and he got a hundred dollars. "There was one/' said the man as he again walked on.

Some time after, he came to a house and heard from the outside a terrible bellowing and noise within. He entered and saw a woman beating her husband about the head with a washerwoman's batlet. He had got a new shirt over his head, but could not get it on, because there was no slit made for the neck. "What's the matter here," cried the stranger at the door: "are you killing your husband, mother?" "No, Lord preserve us," said the woman, "I am only helping him to put on his new shirt." The man struggled and cried: "The Lord preserve and take pity upon all who put on a new shirt. If any one will only teach my wife to cut a slit in the proper place, I will give him a hundred dollars." "I think there must be a way for that; come bring a pair of scissors," said the stranger. The woman gave him the scissors, and he immediately cut a hole in the shirt, and got a hundred dollars. "There is the second" said the man as he went on his way.

After walking on for some time he at length came to a farm-house where he thought of stopping to rest. When he entered the room the woman of the house asked him "Where he was from?" "I come from Ringerige," answered the man. "Oh, indeed! what, do you say you come from Himmerige (Heaven), then of course you know the second Peter, my poor late husband?" The woman, who was very deaf, had had three husbands, all named Peter. The first husband had used her ill, and

SUCH WOMEN ARE

therefore she thought that only the second, who had been kind to her, could be in heaven. "Know him, aye, and well too," answered the man from Ringerige. "How does he fare above?" asked the woman further. "Ah! but poorly," said the man. He goes wandering from one farm to another to get a little food, and has scarcely clothes to his back; and as to money, that is quite out of the question." "Oh God, be merciful to him!" exclaimed the poor woman, "I am sure he need not go so miserable, for there was plenty left after him. I have got a whole room full of his clothes, also a box of money, which I have taken care of, that belonged to my late husband. If you will take charge of all this for him, you shall have a cart and a horse to draw it. The horse he can keep up there, and the cart also; he then can sit in it and drive from one farm to another, for he was never so poor that he was obliged to walk." So the man from Ringerige got a whole cart-load of clothes, and a little box of bright silver-money, with as much provision as he liked to take. When he had filled the cart, he got up in it and drove away.

"That was the third," said he. But in the fields was the woman's third husband ploughing, who, when he saw a person he knew nothing of, coming from the yard with horse and cart, hurried home, and asked his wife who it was that was driving away with the dun horse. "Oh, that was a man from Himmerige (Heaven)," said she; "he told me that things went so badly with my second Peter, my poor husband: that he goes begging from one farm to another, and that he had neither food nor

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

clothing; so I sent him a load of old things that were left after him."

But the box of silver-money she said nothing about. The man seeing how matters stood, saddled a horse, and set off at full gallop. It was not long before he was close behind the man in the cart, who, on observing him, turned off with the horse into a little wood, pulled out a handful of the horse's tail, ran up a small hill with it, and tied it to a birch tree; then laid himself down under the tree, and kept staring up at the clouds. "Well!" cried he, as the man on horseback approached him, "never have

I seen such a thing before in my life " Peter the

third stood a while staring at him and wondering what he was about. At length he asked: "What art thou lying there for, gazing and gaping?" "No, never have I seen anything like it," said the other. "There is a man just gone up to heaven on a dun horse; here is some of the tail hanging in the birch, which he left behind, and there up in the clouds you can see the dun horse." Peter the third looked first at the man, then up at the clouds, and said: "I see nothing but some hair of a horse's tail hanging in the birch-tree." "No, you cannot see it where you stand," said the other, "but come and lie down here where I am, and look straight up, and you must continue gazing for some time, without turning your eyes from the clouds." While Peter lay quite still staring up at the clouds, the man from Ringerige sprang upon his horse and galloped off as fast as he could, both with that and the cart. When it began to rattle along the road, Peter jumped up, but he was at first so bewil-

SUCH WOMEN ARE

dered by this adventure, that he did not think of pursuing the man who had run off with his horse, until it was too late to overtake him. Peter then returned home to his wife quite chap-fallen. When she asked him what he had done with the other horse, he said: "I gave it to the man that he might take it to Peter the second; for I thought it was not becoming for him to sit in a cart and drive about from one farm to another up in heaven. Now he can sell the cart, buy a carriage, and drive a pair of horses." "How I thank you for that, Peter; never did I think you were so reasonable a man," said his wife. When the man from Ringerige returned home with his two hundred dollars, a cart full of clothes, and a box of money, he saw that his land had been ploughed and sown. The first question he put to his wife was, where she had got the seed from tO' sow the fields with. "Oh!" exclaimed she, "I have always heard say, 'that what you sow, you shall reap,' so I took the salt we had left from^ the winter, and sowed that; and if we only get rain soon, I don't doubt but it will come up, and yield many a bushel." "A fool thou art, and a fool thou wilt be as long as thou livest," said her husband; "but there is no help, and others are no wiser than thou."

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

TOLLER'S NEIGHBOURS.

Once upon a time a young man and a young girl were in service together at a mansion down near Klode Mill, in the district of Lysgaard. They became attached to each other, and as they both were honest and faithful servants, their master and mistress had a great regard for them, and gave them a wedding dinner the day they were married. Their master gave them also a little cottage with a little field, and there they went to live.

This cottage lay in the middle of a wild heath, and the surrounding country was in bad repute; for in the neighbourhood were a number of old grave-mounds, which it was said were inhabited by the Mount-folk; though Toller, so the peasant was called, cared little for that. "When one only trusts in God," thought Toller, "and does what is just and right to all men, one need not be afraid of anything." They had now taken possession of their cottage and moved in all their little property. When the man and his wife, late one evening, were sitting talking together as to how they could best manage to get on in the world, they heard a knock at the door, and on Toller opening it, in walked a little little man, and wished them "Good evening." He had a red cap on his head, a long beard and long hair, a large hump on his back, and a leathern apron before him, in which was stuck a hammer. They immediately knew him to be a Troll; notwithstanding he looked so good-natured and friendly, that they were not at all afraid of him.

TOLLER'S NEIGHBOURS

"Now hear, Toller," said the little stranger, "I see well enough that you know who I am, and matters stand thus: I am a poor little hill-man, to whom people have left no other habitation on earth than the graves of fallen warriors, or mounds, where the rays of the sun never can shine down upon us. We have heard that you are come to live here, and our king is fearful that you will do us harm, and even destroy us. He has, therefore, sent me up to you this evening, that I should beg of you, as amicably as I could, to allow us to hold our dwellings in peace. You shall never be annoyed by us, or disturbed by us in your pursuits."

"Be quite at your ease, good man," said Toller, "I have never injured any of God's creatures willingly, and the world is large enough for us all, I believe; and I think we can manage to agree, without the one having any need to do mischief to the other."

"Well, thank God!" exclaimed the little man, beginning in his joy to dance about the room, "that is excellent, and we will in return do you all the good in our power, and that you will soon discover; but now I must depart."

"Will you not first take a spoonful of supper with us ?" asked the wife, setting a dish of porridge down on the stool near the window; for the Man of the Mount was so little that he could not reach up to the table. "No, I thank you," said the mannikin, "our king is impatient for my return, and it would be a pity to let him wait for the good news I have to tell him." Hereupon the little man bade them farewell and went his way.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

From that day forwards, Toller lived in peace and concord with the little people of the Mount. They could see them go in and out of their mounds in daylight, and no one ever did anything to vex them. At length they became so familiar, that they went in and out of Toller's house, just as if it had been their own. Sometimes it happened that they would borrow a pot or a copper-kettle from the kitchen, but always brought it back again, and set it carefully on the same spot from which they had taken it. They also did all the service they could in return. When the spring came, they would come out of their mounds in the night, gather all the stones off the arable land, and lay them in a heap along the furrows. At harvest time they would pick up all the ears of corn, that nothing might be lost to Toller. All this was observed by the farmer, who, when in bed, or when he read his evening prayer, often thanked the Almighty for having given him the Mount-folk for neighbours. At Easter and Whitsuntide, or in the Christmas holidays, he always set a dish of nice milk-porridge for them, as good as it could be made, out on the mound.

Once, after having given birth to a daughter, his wife was so ill that Toller thought she was near her end. He consulted all the cunning people in the district, but no one knew what to prescribe for her recovery. He sat up every night and watched over the sufferer, that he might be at hand to administer to her wants. Once he fell asleep, and on opening his eyes again towards morning, he saw the room full of the Mount-folk: one sat and rocked the baby, another was busy in cleaning the room,

TOLLER'S NEIGHBOURS

a. third stood by the pillow of the sick woman and made a drink of some herbs, which he gave his wife. As soon as they observed that Toller was awake they all ran out of the room; but from that night the poor woman began to mend, and before a fortnight was past she was able to leave her bed and gO' about her household work, well and cheerful as before.

Another time, Toller was in trouble for want of money to get his horses shod before he went to the town. He talked the matter over with his wife, and they knew not well what course to adopt. But when they were in bed his wife said: "Art thou asleep, Toller?" "No," he answered, "what is it?" "I think," said she, "there is something the matter with the horses in the stable, they are making such a disturbance." Toller rose, lighted his lantern, and went to the stable, and, on opening the door, found it full of the little Mount-folk. They had made the horses lie down, because the mannikins could not reach up to them. Some were employed in taking off the old shoes, some were filing the heads of the nails, while others were tacking on the new shoes; and the next morning, when Toller took his horses to water, he found them shod so beautifully that the best of smiths could not have shod them better. In this manner the Mount-folk and Toller rendered all the good services they could to each other, and many years passed pleasantly. Toller began to grow an old man, his daughter was grown up, and his circumstances were better every year. Instead of the little cottage in which he began the world, he now owned a large and handsome house, and

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

the naked wild heath was converted into fruitful arable land.

One evening, just before bed-time, some one knocked at the door, and the Man of the Mount walked in. Toller and his wife looked at him with surprise; for the mannikin was not in his usual dress. He wore on his head a shaggy cap, a woollen kerchief round his throat, and a great sheep-skin cloak covered his body. In his hand he had a stick, and his countenance was very sorrowful. He brought a greeting to Toller from the king, who requested that he, his wife, and little Inger would come over to them in the Mount that evening, for the king had a matter of importance, about which he wished to talk with him. The tears ran down the little man's cheeks while he said this, and when Toller tried to comfort him, and inquired into the source of his trouble, the Man of the Mount only wept the more, but would not impart the cause of his grief.

Toller, his wife and daughter, then went over to the Mount. On descending into the cave, they found it decorated with bunches of sweet willow, crowfoots, and other flowers, that were to be found on the heath. A large table was spread from one end of the cave to the other. When the peasant and his family entered, they were placed at the head of the table by the side of the king. The little folk also took their places, and began to eat, but they were far from being as cheerful as usual; they sat and sighed and hung down their heads; and it was easy to see that something had gone amiss with them. When the repast was finished, the king said to Toller:

TOLLER'S NEIGHBOURS

"I invited you to come over to us because we all wished to thank you for having been so kind and friendly tO' us, during the whole time we have been neighbours. But now* there are so many churches built in the land, and all of them have such great bells, which ring so loud morning and evening, that we can bear it no longer; we are, therefore, going to leave Jutland and pass over to Norway, as the greater number of our people have done long ago. We now wish you farewell. Toller, as we must part."

When the king had said this, all the Mount-folk came and took Toller by the hand, and bade him farewell, and the same to his wife. When they came to Inger, they said: "To you, dear Inger, we will give a remembrance of us, that you may think of the little Mount-people when they are far away." And as they said this, each took up a stone from the ground and threw it into Inger's apron. They left the Mount one by one, with the king leading the way.

Toller and his family remained standing on the Mount as long as they could discern them. They saw the little Trolls wandering over the heath, each with a wallet on his back and a stick in his hand. When they had gone a good part of the way, to where the road leads down to the sea, they all turned round once more, and waved their hands, to say farewell. Then they disappeared, and Toller saw them no more. Sorrowfully he returned to his home.

The next morning Inger saw that all the small stones the Mount-folk had thrown into her apron shone and sparkled, and were real precious stones. Some were

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

blue, others brown, white, and black, and it was the Trolls who had imparted the colour of their eyes to the stones, that Inger might remember them when they were gone; and all the precious stones which we now see, shine and sparkle orly because the Mount-folk have given them the colour of their eyes, and it was some of these beautiful precious stones which they once gave to Inger.

THE MAGICIAN'S PUPIL.

There was once a peasant who had a son, whom, when of a proper age, his father apprenticed to a trade; but the boy, who had no inclination for work, always ran home again to his parents; at this the father was much troubled, not knowing what course to pursue. One day he entered a church, where, after repeating the Lord's Prayer, he said: *'To what trade shall I apprentice my son? He runs away from every place."

The clerk, who happened at that moment to be standing behind the altar, hearing the peasant utter these words, called out in answer: "Teach him witchcraft; teach him witchcraft!"

The peasant, who did not see the clerk, thought it was our Lord who gave him this advice, and determined upon following it.

The next day he said to his son, that he should go with him, and he would find him a new situation. After walking a good way into the country, they met with a shepherd tending his flock.

"Where are you going to, good man?" inquired the shepherd. og

THE MAGICIAN'S PUPIL

"I am in search of a master, who can teach my son the black art," answered the peasant. "You may soon find him," said the shepherd: "keep straight on and you will come to the greatest wizard that is to be found in all the land." The peasant thanked him for this information, and went on. Soon after, he came to a large forest, in the middle of which stood the wizard's house. He knocked at the door, and asked the Troll-man whether he had any inclination to take a boy as a pupil. "Yes," answered the other; "but not for a less term than four years; and we will make this agreement, that at the end of that time, you shall come, and if you can find your son he shall belong to you. but should you not be able to discover him, he must remain in my house, and serve me for the rest of his life."

The peasant agreed to these conditions, and returned home alone. At the end of a week he began to look for his son's return; thinking that in this, as in all former cases, he would run away from his master. But he did not come back, and his mother began to cry, and say her husband had not acted rightly in giving their child into the power of the evil one, and that they should never see him more.

After four years had elapsed the peasant set out on a journey to the magician's, according to their agreement. A little before he reached the forest, he met the same shepherd, who instructed him how to act so as to get his son back. "When you get there," said he, "you must at night keep your eyes constantly turned towards the fireplace, and take care not to fall asleep, for then the Troll-

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

man will convey you back to your own house, and afterwards say you did not come at the appointed time. Tomorrow you will see three dogs in the yard, eating milk-porridge out of a dish. The middle one is your son, and he is the one you must choose."

The peasant thanked the shepherd for his information, and bade him farewell.

When he entered the house of the magician, everything took place as the shepherd had said. He was conducted into the yard, where he saw three dogs. Two of them were handsome with smooth skins, but the third was lean and looked ill. When the peasant patted the dogs, the two handsome ones growled at him, but the lean one, on the contrary, wagged his tail. "Canst thou now tell me which of these three dogs in thy son?" said the Troll-man; "if so thou canst take him with thee; if not, he belongs tO' me."

"Well then I will choose the one that appears the most friendly," answered the peasant; "although he looks less handsome than the others." "That is a sensible choice," said the Troll-man; "he knew what he was about who gave thee that advice."

The peasant was then allowed to take his son home with him. So, putting a cord round his neck, he went his way, bewailing that his son was changed into a dog. "Oh! why are you bewailing so?" asked the shepherd as he came out of the forest, "it appears to me you have not been so very unlucky."

When he had gone a little way, the dog said to him: "Now you shall see that my learning has been of some

loo

THE MAGICIAN'S PUPIL

use to me. I will soon change myself into a little tiny-dog, and then you must sell me to those who are coming past." The dog did as he said, and became a beautiful little creature. Soon after a carriage came rolling along with some great folks in it. When they saw the beautiful little dog that ran playing along the road, and heard that it was for sale, they bought it of the peasant for a considerable sum, and at the same moment the son changed his father into a hare, which he caused to run across the road, while he was taken up by those who had bought him. When they saw the hare they set the dog after it, and scarcely had they done so, than both hare and dog ran into the wood and disappeared. Now the boy changed himself again, and this time both he and his father assumed human forms. The old man began cutting twigs and his son helped him. When the people in the carriage missed the little dog, they got out to seek after it, and asked the old man and his son if they had seen anything of a little dog that had run away. The boy directed them further into the wood, and he and his father returned home, and lived well on the money they had received by selling the dog.

When all the money was spent, both father and son resolved upon going out again in search of adventures. "Now I will turn myself into a boar," said the youth, "and you must put a cord round my leg and take me to Horsens market for sale; but remember to throw the cord over my right ear at the moment you sell me, and then I shall be home again as soon as you."

The peasant did as his son directed him, and went to

lOI

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

market; but he set so high a price on the boar, that no one would buy it, so he continued standing in the market till the afternoon was far advanced. At length there came an old man who bought the boar of him. This was no other than the magician, who, angry that the father had got back his son, had never ceased seeking after them from the time they had left his house. When the peasant had sold his boar he threw the cord over its right ear as the lad had told him, and in the same moment the animal vanished; and when he reached his own door he again saw his son sitting at the table.

They now lived a pleasant merry life until all the money was spent, and then again set out on fresh adventures. This time the son changed himself into a bull, first reminding his father to throw the rope over his right ear as soon as he was sold. At the market he met with the same old man, and soon came to an agreement with him about the price of the bull. While they were drinking a glass together in the alehouse, the father threw the rope over the bull's right horn, and when the magician went to fetch his purchase it had vanished, and the peasant upon reaching home again found his son sitting by his mother at the table. The third time the lad turned himself into a horse, and the magician was again in the market and bought him. "Thou hast already tricked me twice," said he to the peasant; "but it shall not happen again." Before he paid down the money he hired a stable and fastened the horse in, so that it was impossible for the peasant to throw the rein over the animal's right ear. The old man, nevertheless, returned home, in the

THE MAGICIAN'S PUPIL

hope that this time also he should find his son; but he was disappointed, for no lad was there. The magician in the meantime mounted the horse and rode off. He well knew whom he had bought, and determined that the boy should pay with his life the deception he had practised upon him. He led the horse through swamps and pools, and galloped at a pace that, had he long continued it, he must have ridden the animal to death; but the horse was a hard trotter, and the magician being old he at last found he had got his master, and was therefore obliged to ride home.

When he arrived at his house he put a magic bridle on the horse and shut him in a dark stable without giving him anything either to eat or drink. When some time had elapsed, he said to the servant-maid: "Go out and see how the horse is." When the girl came into the stable the metamorphosed boy (who had been the girl's sweetheart while he was in the Troll's house) began to moan piteously, and begged her to give him a pail of water. She did so, and on her return told her master that the horse was well. Some time after he again desired her to go out and see if the horse were not yet dead. When she entered the stable the poor animal begged her to loose the rein and the girths, which were strapped so tight that the could hardly draw breath. The girl did as she was requested, and no sooner was it done than the boy changed himself into a hare and ran out of the stable. The magician, who was sitting in the window, was immediately aware of what had happened on seeing the hare go springing across the yard, and, in-

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

stantly changing himself into a dog, went in pursuit of it. When they had run many miles over corn-fields and meadows, the boy's strength began to fail and the magician gained more and more upon him. The hare then changed itself into a dove, but the magician as quickly turned himself into a hawk and pursued him afresh.

In this manner they flew towards a palace where a princess was sitting at a window. When she saw a hawk in chase of a dove she opened the window, and immediately the dove flew into the room, and then changed itself into a gold ring. The magician now became a prince, and went into the apartment for the purpose of catching the dove. When he could not find it, he asked permission to see her gold rings. The princess showed them to him, but let one fall into the fire. The Troll-man instantly drew it out, in doing which he burnt his fingers, and was obliged to let it fall on the floor. The boy now knew of no better course than to change himself into a grain of corn.

At the same moment the magician became a hen, in order to eat the corn, but scarcely had he done so than the boy became a hawk and killed him.

He then went to the forest, fetched all the magician's gold and silver, and from that day lived in wealth and happiness with his parents.

TEMPTATIONS

TEMPTATIONS.

In Vinding, near Veile, lived once a poor cottager, who went out as day labourer; his son was employed by the priest at Skjserup to run on errands, for which he received his board and lodging. One day the boy was sent with a letter for the priest at Veile. It was in the middle of summer, and the weather was very hot; when he had walked some distance he became tired and drowsy, and lay down to sleep. On awaking he saw a willow, from the roots of which the water had washed away all the earth, whereby the tree was on the point of perishing. "I am but little, it is true," said John, for such was the boy's name, "and can do but little, still I can help thee." He then began to throw mould on the bare roots, and ceased not till they were quite covered and protected. When he had finished, he heard a soft voice proceeding from the tree, which said to him: "Thou shalt not have rendered me this good service for nothing; cut a pipe from my branches, and everything for which thou blow-est shall befall thee."

Although the boy did not give much credit to this, he, nevertheless, cut off a twig for a pipe. "As such a fine promise has been made me," thought he to himself, "I will wish that I could blow myself into a good situation by Michaelmas, that I might be of some use to my poor old father." He blew, but saw nothing, and then, putting his pipe in his pocket, hurried on to make up for the time he had loitered away at the willow-tree. Not long

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

after he found a pocket-book full of money lying in the road. Now John by keeping it, could at once have relieved both his own and his father's necessities, but such a thought never entered his mind; on the contrary, he ran back to the town, inquired of all that he met, whether they had not lost a pocket-book. At length there came a horseman galloping along the road, and when John also asked him, the stranger replied that he had that morning dropped his pocket-book on his way from home, at the same time giving a description of it.

John delivered the pocket-book to him, and the horseman, who was a proprietor from Ostedgaard, near Fred-ericia, was so gratified, that he immediately gave the boy a handsome reward, and asked him if he would like to enter his service. "Yes, I should indeed," answered John, quite pleased at the thought. He then parted from the gentleman with many thanks for his kindness, after having agreed between them that John should come down to Osted at Michaelmas. He then executed his errand for the priest, and felt convinced, that it was alone owing to the pipe that he had met with such a lucky adventure; he therefore concealed it carefully, and let no one know anything of the matter.

Now this gentleman was an adept in the black art, and had only offered to take the lad intO' his service that he might see how far his honesty would be proof against the temptations into which he purposed to lead him.

At the appointed time John went to Ostedgaard, and was summoned by the master, who inquired of him what he could do. "I am not fit for m.uch," said John, "as I

TEMPTATIONS

am so little; but I will do my best at all times to perform whatever my good master requires of me." "That is well, with that I am contented," answered the master; "I have twelve hares, these thou must take to the wood every morning, and if thou bringest back the full number every evening I will give thee house and home in remuneration ; but if thou allowest them to run away, thou wilt have a reckoning to settle with me." "I will do my best," answered John.

The next morning his master came down to the inclo-sure, and counted the hares. As soon as he opened the door and gave the animals their liberty, away they all ran, one to the east, another to the west, and John remained standing alone; he was not, however, so disheartened as might be imagined; for he had his willow pipe in his pocket. As soon, therefore, as he came into a lonely part of the wood, he took out his pipe and began to blow, and no sooner had he put it to his mouth, than all the twelve hares came running and assembled round him. As John now felt he could rely on the virtues of his pipe, he let them all go again, and passed his time in amusing himself. In the evening he took out his pipe again, and as he walked up to the manor continued blowing it. All the hares then came forth and followed him one by one. The master was standing at the gate, tO' see what would take place. He could not recover from his astonishment, when he saw the little herd-boy blowing his pipe as he approached the house, and all the hares following him as gently and quietly as if it were a flock of sheep he was driving home. "Thou art more clever

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

than thou appearest," said the master; "the number is right, go in and get some food; for to-day thou hast done a good piece of work: we shall now see whether thou art as fortunate to-morrow."

The next day everything passed in exactly the same manner. As soon as the inclosure was opened, all the hares ran out in different directions, and the boy let them enjoy their liberty, as he now felt certain that he could bring them back whenever he wished. But this time his master had prepared a harder trial for him.

At noon he desired his daughter to disguise herself in a peasant's dress, and to go and ask the boy to give her a hare. The young maiden was so beautiful that he did not think John could refuse her request.

When the daughter had thus disguised herself, she went into the field and began talking to John, asking him what he was doing there. "I am taking care of hares," answered the boy.

"What has become of thy hares?" said the maiden, "I see nothing of them." "Oh, they are only gone a little way into the wood," said he; "but as soon as I call them they will all come back again." When the young girl pretended to doubt this, he blew on his pipe, and instantly all the twelve came running towards him. She now begged and prayed him to give her one of them. The boy at first refused, but as she was very importunate, he at length told her that she should have a hare for a kiss. In short, the maiden got the hare, and carried it up to the manor; but when John thought she must be near home, he blew on his pipe, and immediately the hare

TEMPTATIONS

came bounding back to him. and so he brought all the twelve home that evening.

On the third day, the lord of Osted was determined to try whether he could not trick the boy. He therefore dressed himself like a peasant and went in search of John. When they had conversed some time, he requested him to call his hares together, and when they came, he wished to purchase one of them, but the boy answered, that he did not dare to sell what did not belong to him. As the lord continued to entreat him most urgently, John promised him a hare, if he would give him the ring that was on his finger. The lord, it must be observed, had forgotten to take off his ring when he put on the peasant's dress, and now found that he was known. He, nevertheless, gave the boy the ring and got one of the hares. When he had nearly reached Osted, John blew on his pipe, and, although the master held the hare as firmly as he could, it got away and ran back, just as on the preceding day. When the master found he could not get the better of the boy by fair means, he had recourse to the black art, and ascertained that the willow pipe was the cause of the hares always obeying John.

When the boy returned on the fourth evening, his master gave him plenty of food and strong drink, and being unaccustomed to such things, he soon fell asleep, so that it was no difficult matter to steal his pipe from him. The next day the hares were turned out as usual; but this time John could not bring them back; he, consequently, durst not show himself at Osted, but continued wandering about the wood, crying and sobbing. His

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

master had now gained his point. When it began to grow dark, he went to seek for John, and asked him why he remained away so long that evening. John scarcely ventured tO' confess his misfortune; but as his master continued urging him to tell him, he at length acknowledged that the hares had run away, and that it was not in his power to get them back again.

The lord took pity on him and told him to return home, for the loss was not very great. "A house and home I see thou wilt not get at present," said he as they walked back, "unless thou canst fulfil a condition, which I will propose to-morrow." John was glad to' hear these words; for his sorrow was less at losing what his master had promised him than at forfeiting his benefactor's favour, and being turned out of the house. The next day there were guests at Ostedgaard, and when they were all assembled, the lord of the manor, calling John, told him he should have what had been promised him, if he could relate a bagful of untruths. "No," replied John, "to untruths I have never been addicted; but, if my good master pleases, I can, perhaps, tell him a bagful of truths."

"Well then," said his master, "here is a bag, and now begin thy story."

John began to recite about his lot as a little boy, how he had passed all his life in indigence and misery. Then he recited about his adventure with the willow-tree, how he had obtained his pipe, and had afterwards found the pocket-book, which was the cause of his master taking him into his service. Lastly, he recited how a maiden

no

TEMPTATIONS

had come to him and given him a kiss for a hare. As he was continuing his master called out (as he did not wish his own fruitless attempt should be known) : "Stop, John, thou hast kept thy word—the bag is full." He then let the boy go out of the room, and told his guests how faithfully and honourably John had always conducted himself, adding, that it was not possible to seduce him to deceive or to tell an untruth."

"Still I think it is to be done," said the proprietor of Nebbegaard. "I will answer for it that he will not be able to withstand, if he is seriously tempted."

His host felt offended by this doubting, and immediately offered to lay as large a wager as his neighbour pleased, that he could not get John either to deceive him or to tell an untruth. The challenge was accepted, and their estates were pledged for and against the boy.

The proprietor of Nebbegaard wrote a letter to his daughter, in which he explained to her what had taken place, and how important it was for him to win the wager. He desired her, therefore, to entertain John in the best manner possible, and to appear as affable and friendly towards him as she could, with the view of prevailing on him to give her the horse on which he rode.

The lad was then sent to Nebbegaard with this letter. His master lent him a horse, that he might the more expeditiously perform his errand; but warned him not to ride too fast, or by any means to lose the horse, which was the finest and most valuable animal he had in his stable. John promised to follow his instructions, and rode away. When he had ridden a short way from

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

home, he dismounted, and led the horse, in order to comply, as much as possible, with his master's wish. In this manner he proceeded but slowly, and it was evening before he reached Nebbegaard.

When the young lady had read her father's letter, she sent for John, and behaved in the kindest and most friendly manner towards him. The maiden was very handsome, and treated the young lad as her equal in condition and rank. She entertained him sumptuously, and said not a word about the horse till he had drunk much more than he could bear. Without knowing what he did, John promised (after she had long entreated him in vain) that he would give her the horse, and the young girl behaved yet more friendly towards him; so the next morning John finding he had no longer a horse, took the saddle and bridle and wandered back to Ostedgaard. As he walked along it struck him how wrongly he had acted, and he began to repent bitterly of what he had done. "What shall I now say when I reach home, and my master finds that the horse is gone?" said he to himself, as he hung the saddle and bridle on the hedge. " 'Well, John,' master will say, 'hast thou executed my errand?' Then I shall answer, 'Yes.' 'But what then is become of my horse, with which I entrusted thee?' Then I will say, 'that I met a band of robbers on the way, and they took the horse from me.' No, that will never do," continued he, "never have I told a lie yet, and I will not do it now." Not long after another thought rose to his mind: "I can say that the horse fell, and that I buried it in a ditch. That won't do either—Lord knows what I,

TEMPTATIONS

poor fellow, had best do." When he had gone on a little further, he resolved within himself that he would say that the horse had run away, and had shaken off his saddle and bridle.

Long before he reached Ostedgaard, the guests saw him approaching with the saddle on his head and the bridle on his arm.

"Here comes our truthful boy," exclaimed the proprietor of Nebbegaard, "look only how slowly he approaches . who do you now think has won the wager ?"

The lord of Osted had already recognised John, and was highly incensed at seeing him return without the horse. As soon as the boy entered the house, he was called up where all the guests were assembled, and his master said: "Well, John, hast tffou executed my errand?" "Yes, I have, gracious master," answered the boy, trembling with fear. "What then is become of my good horse, which I ordered thee to take such care of?"

John did not dare to meet the look of his master, but cast his eyes on the ground and said, in a whimpering voice:—

"Dainty the fare, sweet was the mead, The lady's arm was soft and round, The sparkling cup my senses drown'd, And thus I lost my master's steed."

When he had recited this, his master embraced him in his joy, and exclaimed: "See now! I knew well enough that he would speak the truth. Which of us two has won the wager?"

John did not comprehend the meaning of these words, and continued sorrowful, till his master said to him:

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

*'Be of good heart, my boy! as thou hast always kept to truth and right, I will give thee both house and land, and when thou art old enough, I will give thee my daughter to wife."

The following day John was allowed to fetch his old father tO' live with him, and some years after he was married to his master's daughter.

THE OUTLAW.

At Palsgaard, in the district of Bjerge, lived once a knight, whose name was Eisten Brink. He was addicted to the belief in supernatural agency, and kept an astrologer in his house, that he might foretell him his fate. As Eisten had been many years a widower, he resolved to marry again, and with that object courted the daughter of Jens Grib of Barritskov. Although the young maiden was not very favourably inclined towards her old suitor, her father forced her to give the consenting "Yes" to his proposals.

Two nights before the wedding was to take place, Eisten went up to the Astrologer's tower, and requested him to foretell what his fate would be in the married state.

The Astrologer took out his instruments, and after having for some time consulted the heavens, he told the knight, ''that there always appeared a little black spot upon his star, which signified some secret, and with this he must become acquainted before he could possibly foretell his future."

THE OUTLAW

At first Eisten would divulge nothing; but as the Astrologer refused to proceed before he made a full confession, the knight was at last obliged to acknowledge that Palsgaard had unjustly come into his possession in the following manner. His brother-in-law a knight named Palle, had, many years ago, made him the superintendent of the castle, and, at the same time, committed to his care his little son, while he went to join in the war. A few years after this, Eisten received intelligence of Palle's death, and a year later his son also disappeared one day, when he had been seen playing near the lake. The people in the neighbourhood believed that the boy had fallen into the water and been drowned; but the truth was, that Eisten Brink had got an old woman to kidnap the child, and conceal him, so that he might be no impediment in the way of his becoming master of Palsgaard,

^ When Eisten had related this tale, the Astrologer asked him, if he had never since heard what had become of Palle's son. ''Yes," replied the knight, "old Trude (so the woman was called) sent him first to Sleswig, to live with a sister of hers, but at her death he returned to Trude, and she got him placed as huntsman to my future father-in-law."

"And is he there now ?" asked the Astrologer.

"No, that he is not; for a day or two ago, as Grib observed that Abel was paying too much attention to Inger, who is to be my wife to-morrow, he turned him out of doors, and forbade him ever to appear again at Barritskov."

"5

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

When the Astrologer had heard all he wished to know, he predicted much happiness to Eisten in the married state. The next day the knight, richly attired, and attended by a numerous retinue, rode over to Jens Grib's at Barritskov. Jens immediately told his son-in-law in confidence, that Abel, although forbidden the house and grounds, was still lingering about, and that Inger did not appear to be unfavourably disposed towards him. He therefore advised Eisten to have all his eyes about him when they were married, and to be cautious whom he admitted to Palsgaard. Eisten smiled at this warning, and thought that he could very well manage matters.

In the afternoon of that day, he rode down to Rosen-void, or Staxesvold, as it was then called. This place belonged at that time to a noted freebooter who roamed about in Middlefart Sound, and plundered all the vessels he could master. Eisten, through good words and good pay, got a promise that two of the freebooters would waylay and murder Abel, whom they knew by sight, having often met him, as Jens Grib's wood reached down tO' theirs. They agreed to do their work the following night, so that the knight should never more be troubled with the huntsman. With regard to Abel, Jens Grib's suspicions were well founded. Inger and he had been attached to each other for some time, long, in fact, before Eisten thought of becoming her suitor. The young lover was, therefore, much grieved at finding himself suddenly dismissed from Barritskov, and knew not how to find an opportunity of speaking to Inger.

In his distress h'=* went in the evening down to the

THE OUTLAW

wood, where old Trtide, his foster-mother, Hved. He confided to her his secret, and asked her what course she thought he had best pursue. After they had had some conversation together, the old woman advised him to accompany her into the wood, to a mount in which lived a Troll, and if he could be brought to interest himself in the matter, Abel need have no fear, either for the father or lover of Inger. The young huntsman felt no great inclination to follow^ this advice; yet what else could he do? He at length consented, and they set out together, taking the road that led to the Troll's Mount,

The real cause why Trude was desirous of inducing Abel to go with her to the Troll w^as, that she had sold herself to him, body and soul, after a certain period, unless she could find another willing to enter into the same conditions. This period expired on the very evening of Abel's visit, and the wicked woman resolved in her evil heart to save herself by the sacrifice of her foster-son. When they came to the spot the old woman began to summon forth the Troll. She made a circle of human bones about the hill, within which she placed herself and Abel. A noise was then heard around them; the mount rose on four pillars of fire, and the Troll appeared.

The woman made known her errand, and presented Abel to him. The Troll was just laying hold of the young man, w^hen a loud cry was heard in the wood, and the Astrologer from Palsgaard rushed towards Abel, but could not enter the circle which the crone had made. He cried again with all his might: "This boy is mine, take him not from me, he is my only son."

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

To this appeal the Troll gave little heed, and it would have fared ill with the huntsman, had not the Astrologer again cried with a powerful voice: "In the name of our Lord, I conjure you to spare my son!" No sooner had he uttered these words, than the Troll gave a horrible scream, and, seizing old Trude round the waist, disappeared with her in the mount, which immediately closed upon them and sank down again; but Abel remained behind and was saved.

The Astrologer was no other than the old knight Palle, the brother-in-law of Eisten Brink. He had been outlawed for having joined the king's enemies, hence the reason of his living in concealment at Palsgaard. No sooner had Eisten informed him how he had acted towards his son than he went down to Trude's cottage. Not finding her at home, he wandered into the wood, where he fortunately came to the Troll's Mount, just as Abel was in the greatest danger. When he had made himself known to his son, and they had embraced each other, and thanked God for their happy deliverance, they consulted together as to the course they should pursue, then lay down in the wood to sleep.

That same night the two freebooters left Staxesvold in quest of Abel, as had been agreed between them and Eisten Brink. They first took the road to old Trude's house, then proceeded further along the same path which the Astrologer had taken just before. On the same day, it happened that the king had been out hunting from a neighbouring manor. He had found a white hind, and pursued it throughout the day, over hill and through

THE OUTLAW

dale, until it reached the wood of Palsgaard. He thus became separated from his followers, and as the evening-was drawing on, he could neither find his way out of the wood, nor any path through it. He rode about for some time at a venture, when the voices of Abel and his father talking together attracted his attention. He went in the direction of the sound, and came to the spot where they had lain down to rest.

Here he was met by the freebooters, who, believing they had found the man they were in search of, entered into discourse with the king, who did not dream of any mischief. Abel looked up on hearing voices, and saw one of the miscreants draw forth a knife and steal softly behind the king. He immediately saw that murder was intended, and sprang up, exclaiming: "Defend yourself, sir! for your life is threatened."

Old Palle rushed to the assistance of his son, and it cost them but little trouble to overpower the two freebooters. One was killed in the fray, the other threw away his weapon and begged for mercy. The king ordered him immediately to confess what inducement he had for making this murderous attack; when the assassin, without reserve, acknowledged how Eisten had instigated them to murder Abel.

The king now turned to the Astrologer, and asked him who he was. The old man laid his sword at the kind's feet, and said: "Kneel down with me, my son, for you stand before Denmark's king." Hereupon he related his history, and also the manner in which Eisten Brink had acted towards him and his son Abel.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

The king pardoned him; and when he heard that Eis-ten's wedding was to be celebrated at Barritskov on the following day, he determined on being present at the festival, taking with him the captured robber. Palle and his son also accompanied him to the castle.

At Barritskov all was mirth and glee; the bridesmaids were adorning Inger and twining the bridal wreath in her hair. Jens Grib was busied in receiving the congratulations of his neighbours. But Eisten had not yet made his appearance; he was sitting alone in his chamber, impatiently waiting to hear tidings from the two assassins, who had undertaken to murder Abel.

At once he thought he heard a great and unusual noise in the castle-yard. He approached the door to ascertain the cause, when his future father-in-law burst into the room with the intelligence, that the king had arrived at the castle, in company with Abel, the Astrologer, and a prisoner.

Eisten Brink could scarcely believe his own ears, but still more astounded was he upon finding that the king had suspended all the festivities, and commanded every one to meet him in the knights' hall.

Here the king related to the astonished company how Eisten had acted towards his brother-in-law, the old Palle, and requested the assembled guests to pass judgment upon such a criminal,

Eisten was deprived of his honours. Palle was restored to his power and dignity; but the best of all was, that Abel was wedded to Inger, and lived with her many years in splendour and felicity.

THE BLUE RIBAND

THE BLUE RIBAND.

FROM MARNE.

ThKRE was once a man, who was very poor, and sick into the bargain. When he felt that his end was drawing nigh, he summoned his wife to his bedside, and said to her: "My dear wife, I feel that my end approaches, but I should die tranquil and free from solicitude, if I only knew that all would go well with thee and our Hans, when I shall be no more. I can leave you nothing to pro^ tect you from want; but when I am dead, go with our son to my brother, who dwells in a village on the other side of the great forest. He is wealthy and has always cherished brotherly feelings towards me, and will, I doubt not, provide for you." He then died. After his burial, the widow and her son set out on their way to her brother-in-law, as her husband had recommended. Now it must be observed that the mother hated her son, and was hostile to him in every way possible, though Hans was a good youth and approaching to manhood. When they had been journeying for some time, they observed a blue riband lying in the path. Hans stooped to take it up, but his mother said: "Let the old riband lie; what dost thou want with it ?" But Hans thought within himself: "Who knows what it may be good for ? It would be a real pity to let so pretty a riband lie here;" so he took it up, and bound it, without his mother's knowledge, under his jacket round his arm. He now became so

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

Strong, that no one, as long as he wore that riband, could prevail against him, and every one must stand in aw^e of him.

When they had proceeded some way further, and had entered the large forest, after having wandered about for a long time, they came to a cave, in which stood a covered table, loaded with a profusion of the daintiest viands in silver dishes. Hans said: "We are come just in the right moment. I have been hungry a long while; I will now make a hearty meal." So they sat down and ate and drank to their hearts' content. They had scarcely finished when the giant, to whom the cave belonged, returned home; but he was quite friendly, and said: "You were right to help yourselves and not wait for me; if you find it pleasant, you can remain always here in the cave with me." To the woman he said that she might be his wife. To his proposal they both agreed, and now for a while lived content in the cave with the giant.

From day to day the giant became more and more attached to Hans; but his mother's hatred to him increased every hour, and when she observed how strong he was become, she was still more embittered, and said one day to the giant: "Dost thou notice how strong Hans is? He may become dangerous to us the older he grows and the more he increases in strength, and may one day easily strike us both dead, that he may possess the cave alone; or he may drive us from it. It would be well and prudent on thy part, if thou wert to provide in time, and take an opportunity of getting rid of him." But the giant answered: "Never again speak to me in

THE BLUE RIBAND

that strain. Hans is a goad youth, and will do us no harm; I will not hurt a hair of his head."

When the woman found that the giant would not lend himself to her purpose, she lay in bed on the following day and pretended to be ill. She then called her son, and said: "My dear Hans, I am so ill that I shall certainly die. There is, nevertheless, one remedy that may save me, I dreamed that if I could get a draught of the milk of the lioness that has her den not far from here, I should surely recover. If thou lovest me, thou canst help me; thou art so strong and fearest nothing; thou couldst go and fetch me some of the milk." "Certainly, dear mother," answered Hans; "that I will most readily do, if I only knew that it would do you good." So he took a bowl and went to the den of the lioness. There she lay suckling her young ones; but Hans, laying the 3^oung ones aside, began to milk, which the lioness allowed quite quietly; but then in came the old lion roaring, and attacked Hans from behind, who, turning round, took the lion's neck under his arm and squeezed him so firmly that he began to whine most piteously, and became quite tame. Hans then released him, and he went and lay in the corner, and Hans proceeded with his milking, until the basin was full. When he left the den, the lioness sprang after him with her young ones, and were soon followed by the old lion. Hans then carried the milk to his mother, who was so terrified at the sight of the lions that she cried: "Hans, send the savage beasts away, or I shall die of fright." The lions thereupon went away of their own accord and lay down before the

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

door, and when Hans came out they ran to him and appeared glad.

When this attempt of the wicked mother had thus failed, she again said to the giant: "If thou hadst directly followed my counsel, we should now have nothing more to fear; but now it is wore than before, and as he has got the wild beasts we cannot so easily do anything to harm him." The giant answered: "I know not why we should do anything to injure him. Hans is a good youth, and the animals are tame. I would on no account lay a hand on him." To this the mother replied: "It may, notwithstanding, easily enter his mind either to drive us from the cave, or even destroy us outright, in order to become its master. I cannot feel happy so long as I must live in fear."

After a time the woman again lay in bed, saying she was sick, and again called to her son and said: "I have had another dream, that if I could get a few of the apples that grow in the garden of the three giants, I should again be well; otherwise I feel that I must die." Hans said: "My dear mother, as you have such great need of them, I will go to the giants and fetch you some." So, taking a sack, he was instantly on his way, and the lions after him. But the wicked mother thought that this time he would surely never return. Hans went straight into the garden and gathered a sackful of apples; and having so done, ate a few himself; immediately after which he fell into a deep sleep and sank down under one of the trees. This was caused by the apples, which possessed that property. Had the faithful lions now not

THE BLUE RIBAND

been with him, he must have perished; for instantly there rushed a huge giant through the garden, crying: "Who has stolen our apples?" But Hans slept on and answered not. On perceiving Hans, the giant ran fiercely at him, and would have finished him, but then up sprang the lions, fell upon the giant, and in a short time tore him in pieces. Now came the second giant, also crying out: "Who has stolen our apples?" and when he was about to rush on Hans, the lions again sprang up, and in like manner despatched him. Lastly came the third giant, and cried: "Who is stealing our apples here?" Hans slept on, but the lions seized this giant also and killed him. Hans then opened his eyes and went wandering about the garden. When he came near the castle, in which the giants had dwelt, he heard, from a deep underground chamber, a voice of lamentation. He descended and found a princess of exquisite beauty, whom the giants had carried away from her father, and here confined, loaded with heavy chains. But Hans had scarcely touched the chains, when they flew in fragments, and he conducted the beautiful princess up into the most magnificent apartment of the castle, that she might recover herself, and wait until he returned. She entreated him to accompany her to her father's court, but he answered : "I must first go and carry the apples to my mother, who is sick to death." He then left the princess in the castle, took his sack of apples, and returned tO' the cave to his mother. When she saw him coming she could scarcely believe her eyesight, so great was her astonishment at seeing him unscathed and bearing a sackful

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

of apples. She instantly asked him how he had been able to accomplish his errand. "My dear mother," said he, "since I wear the blue riband, that you would not have had me take with me, I am so strong that nothing can prevail against me. On this occasion my lions killed all the giants, and now you shall go with me and leave this old den. Henceforth we will live at the castle in joy and splendour; I have found there a most beautiful princess, who shall remain with us." The mother and the giant now went with Hans to the castle; but when the former saw all the magnificence there, and how beautiful the princess was, she grudged Hans his good fortune more than ever, and was constantly on the watch for an opportunity to destroy him; for she now knew whence he derived his strength. So one day, as Hans was lying at rest on his bed, with his riband hanging by him on a nail, she stole softly in, and, before he was aware, pierced out both his eyes; then took the riband, and as Hans was now blind and helpless, thrust him out of the castle, and said, that henceforward she would be sole mistress there. Poor Hans would soon have perished, had not the faithful lions conducted the princess to him. She attended him and led him; for she would proceed to her father's kingdom, hoping there to find a cure for her deliverer. But the way was long, and long they wandered about; at length, however, they arrived in the neighbourhood of the city in which the father of the princess resided. Here she observed a blind hare running in the road before her, which, on coming to a brook that flowed by, dived thrice under the water, and ran, with its sight re-

THE BLUE RIBAND

stored, away. She then led Hans to the water, who, when he had plunged into it three times, could see as before.

Full of joy they now entered the city, and when the old king was informed that Hans was the deliverer of his daughter, he would have no' other son-in-law but him, nor could the princess have chosen a husband more agreeable to her than Hans. But when his mother had learned that Hans was restored to sight and had married the princess, she became suddenly ill through spite, and this time in earnest, and she died. Shortly after the giant also died. When looking under their pillow, Hans found the blue riband, which he wore as long as he lived, never laying it aside. He afterwards succeeded his father-in-law in the kingdom, and as king was feared by all his enemies far and near, and regarded as a true protector of his people.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES THE MAN WITHOUT A HEART.

IfROM MELDORIf.

There was once seven brothers, who had neither father nor mother. They lived together in one house, and had to do all the household work themselves, to wash, cook, sweep, and whatever else was to be done; for they had no sisters. Of this kind of housekeeping they soon grew tired, and one of them said: "Let us set out, and each of us get a wife." This idea pleased the other brothers, and they made themselves ready for travelling, all excepting the youngest, who preferred to remain at home and keep house, his six brothers promising to bring him a wife with them. The brothers then set out, and all six went forth merrily in the wide world. They soon came into a large, wild forest, where, after wandering about for some time, they found a small house, at the door of which an old man was standing. On seeing the brothers passing by and appearing so gay, he called to them: *'For what place are you bound that you pass my door so merrily?" "We are going each of us to fetch a handsome young bride," answered they, "and therefore are we so merry. We are all brothers, but have left one at home, for whom we are also to bring a bride." "I wish you then success in your undertaking," replied the old man; "you see, however, very plainly that I am so lonely that I too have need of a wife, and so I advise you to bring me one also with you." To this the brothers made no answer, but continued their way, think-

THE MAN WITHOUT A HEART

ing the old man spoke only in jest, and that he could have no occasion for a wife.

They soon arrived in a city, where they found seven young and handsome sisters, of whom each of the brothers chose one, and took the seventh with them for their youngest brother.

When they again arrived in the forest, there stood the old man at his door, apparently awaiting their coming. He even called to them at a distance: "Well, have you brought me a wife with you as I desired you?" "No," answered them, "we could not find one for thee, old man; we have only brought brides for ourselves, and one for our youngest brother." "You must leave her for me," said the old man, "for you must keep tO' your promise." This the brothers refused to do. The old man then took a little white staff from a shelf over the door, with which when he had touched the six brothers and their brides, they were all turned into gray stones. These, together with the staff, he laid on the shelf above the door, but kept the seventh young bride for himself.

The young woman had now to attend to all that was to be done in the house; and she did it all cheerfully, for what would resistance have availed her? She had, moreover, every comfort with him, the only thought that gave her uneasiness being that he might soon die; for what was she then to do alone in the great wild forest, and how was she to release her six poor enchanted sisters and their betrothed husbands? The longer she lived with him the more dreadful did this thought become; she wept and wailed the whole livelong day, and was incessantly

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

crying- in the old man's ear: "Thou art old, and mayest die suddenly, and what am I then to do? I shall be left alone here in this great forest." The old man would then appear sad, and at length said: "Thou hast no cause to be uneasy; I cannot die, for I have no heart in my breast; but even if I should die, the twelve gray stones lie over the house-door, and with them a little white staff. If thou strikest the stones with that staff, thy sisters and their betrothed will again be living." The young woman now appeared contented, and asked him, that as his heart was not in his breast, where he kept it. "My child," answered the old man, "be not so inquisitive; thou canst not know everything." But she never ceased her importunities, until he at last said somewhat peevishly, "Well, in order to make you easy, I tell thee that my heart lies in the coverlet."

Now it was the old man's custom to go every morning into the forest and not return till the evening, when his young housekeeper had to prepare supper for him. One evening on his return, finding his coverlet adorned with all kinds of beautiful feathers and flowers, he asked the young woman the meaning of it. "Oh, father," answered she, "I sit here the whole day alone and can do nothing for thy gratification, and so thought I would do something for the delight of thy heart, which, as thou sayest, is in the coverlet!" "My child," said the old man, laughing, "that was only a joke of mine; my heart is not in the coverlet, it is in a very different place." She then began again to weep and lament, and said: "Thou hast then a heart in thy breast and canst die; what am I then

THE MAN WITHOUT A HEART

to do, and how shall I recover my friends when thou art dead?" "I tell thee," answered the old man, "that I cannot die, and have positively no heart in my breast; but even if I should die, which is not possible, there lie the gray stones over the door together with a little white stick, with which thou hast only, as I have already told thee, to strike the stones, and thou wilt have all thy friends again!" She then prayed and implored him so long to inform her where he kept his heart, that he at length said: "It is in the room-door."

On the following day she decorated the room-door with variegated feathers and flowers from top to bottom, and when the old man came home in the evening and inquired the cause, she answered: "Oh, father, I sit here the whole day, and can do nothing for thy pleasure, and wished therefore to give some delight to thy heart." But the old man answered as before: "My heart is not in the room-door; it is in a very different place." Then, as on the previous day, she began to weep and implore, and said: "Thou hast then a heart and canst die; thou wilt only deceive me." The old man answered: "Die I cannot; but as thou wilt positively know where my heart is, I will tell thee, that thou mayest be at ease. Far, very far, from here, in a wholly unknown solitary place, there is a large church; this church is well secured by thick iron doors; around it there runs a wide, deep moat; within the church there flies a bird, and in that bird is my heart. So long as that bird lives, I also live. Of itself it will not die, and no one can catch it. Hence I cannot die, and thou mayest be without apprehension."

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

In the meantime the youngest brother had waited and waited at home; but as his brothers did not return, he supposed that some mishap had befallen them, and therefore set out in quest of them. After traveling for some days he arrived at the house of the old man. He was not at home, but the young woman, his bride, received him. He related to her how he had six brothers, who had all left home to get themselves wives, but that some mischance must have befallen them, as they had never returned. He had, therefore, set out in search of them. The young woman then instantly knew him for her bridegroom, and informed him who she was, and what had become of his brothers and their brides. Both were overjoyed at having thus met; she gave him to eat, and when he had recruited his strength he said: "Tell me now, my dear bride, how I can release my brothers." She then related to him all about the old man, v/hose heart was not in his breast, but in a far distant church, of which she gave him every particular, according to the old man's narrative, "I will at all events try," said the young man, "whether I cannot get hold of the bird. It is true that the way is long and unknown to me, and the church is well secured; but by God's help I may succeed." "Do' so," said the young woman, "seek the bird; for as long as that lives thy brothers cannot be released. This night thou must hide thyself under the bedstead, that the old man may not find thee: to-morrow thou canst continue thy journey." Accordingly he crept under the bed just before the old man's return, and on the following morning, as soon as the old man was gone out, the

THE MAN WITHOUT A HEART

young woman drew her bridegroom forth from his hiding-place, gave him a whole basketful of provisions, and after a tender farewell, he resumed his journey. He had proceeded a considerable way, when feeling hungry he sat down, placed his basket before him and opened it. While in the act of taking forth some bread and meat, he said: "Let come now every one that desires to eat with me!" At the instant there came a huge red ox, and said: ^'If thou didst say that every one should come that desires to eat with thee, I would gladly eat with thee." "Very well," said the young man, "I did say so, and thou Shalt partake with me." They then began to eat, and when they were satisfied, the red ox, when about to depart, said: "If at any time thou art in difficulty and re-quirest my aid, thou hast only to utter the wish, and I will come, and help thee." He then disappeared among the trees, and the young man recommenced his journey.

When he had proceeded a considerable way farther, he was again hungry, so sat down, opened his basket, and said as before: "Let those come that desire to eat with me!" In a moment there came from the thicket a large wild boar and said: "Thou hast said that whoever desired to eat with thee should come; now I would gladly eat with thee." The bridegroom answered: "Thou art quite right, comrade; so just fall to." When they had eaten, the boar said: "If thou art ever in difficulty and needest my aid, thou hast only to utter the wish, and I will help thee." He then disappeared in the forest, and the young man pursued his journey.

On the third day, when about to eat, he said again :

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

"Let all that desire to eat with me come!" At the instant a rattling was heard among the trees and a large griffon descended and placed himself by the side of the traveller, saying: "If thou didst say that all who desired to eat with thee might come, I would gladly eat with thee," "With all my heart," answered the bridegroom; " 'tis far more pleasant to eat in company than alone; so just fall to." Both then began to- eat. When their hunger was satisfied, the griffon said: "If ever thou art in difficulty, thou hast only to call me and I will aid thee." He then disappeared in the air, and the young man went his way.

After travelling a while longer he perceived the church at a distance; so redoubling his pace, he was soon close by it. But now there was the moat in his way, which was too deep for him tO' wade through, and he could not swim. Now the red ox occurred tO' his recollection: "He could help thee," thought he, "if he were to drink a green path through the water. Oh, that he were here!" Hardly had he expressed the wish when the red ox w^as there, laid himself on his knees and drank until there was a dry green path through the water. The young man now passed through the moat and stood before the church, the iron doors oif which were so strong that lie could not force one open, and the walls many feet thick, without an opening in any part. Knowing no other means, he endeavoured to break some stones, one by one out O'f the wall, and after great labour succeeded in extracting a few. It then occurred to him that the wild boar could help him, and he cried: "Oh, if the wild

THE MAN WITHOUT A HEART

boar were here!" In an instant it came rushing up, and ran with such force against the wall, that in one moment a large hole was broken through it, and the young man entered the church. Here he saw the bird flying about. "Thou canst not catch it thyself," thought he, "but if the

griffon were here !" Scarcely had he uttered the

thought, when the griffon was there; but it cost even the griffon a great deal of trouble to catch the little bird; at last, however, he seized it, gave it into the young man's hand and flew away. Overjoyed, he placed his prize in the basket, and set forth on his way back to the house in which his bride was-.

When he reached the house and informed her that he had the bird in his basket, she was overjoyed, and said: "Now thou shalt first eat something in haste, and then creep again under the bed with the bird, so that the old man may know nothing of the matter." This was done, and just as he had crept under the bed, the old man returned home, but felt ill and complained. The young woman then again began to weep, and said: "Ah, now father will die, that 1 can well see, and he has a heart in his breast!" "Ah, my child," answered the old man, "be still only; I cannot die; it will soon pass over." The bridegroom under the bed now gave the bird a little pinch, and the old man felt quite ill and sat dow^n, and when the young man squeezed it yet harder, he fell to the earth in a swoon. The bride then cried out: "Squeeze it quite to death." The young man did so, and the old man lay dead on the ground. The young woman then drew her bridegroom from under the bed, and after-

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

wards went and took the stones and the little white staff from the shelf over the door, struck every stone with the staff, and in one instant there stood all her sisters and the brothers before her. "Now," said she, "we will set out for home, and celebrate our marriage and be happy; for the old man is dead, and there is nothing more to fear from him." They did so, and lived many years in harmony and happily together.

THE SEVEN RAVENS.

As many strange things come to pass in the world, so there was a poor woman who had seven sons at a birth, all of whom lived and throve. After some years, the same woman had a daughter. Her husband was a very industrious and active man, on which account people in want of a handicraftsman were very willing to take him into their service, so that he could not only support his numerous family in an honest manner, but earned so much that, by prudent economy, his wife was enabled to lay by a little money for a rainy day. But this good father died in the prime of life, and the poor widow soon fell into poverty; for she could not earn enough to support and clothe her eight children. Her seven boys grew bigger, and daily required more and more, besides which they were a great grief to their mother, for they were wild and wicked. The poor woman could hardly stand against all the afflictions that weighed so heavily upon her. She wished to bring up her children in the

THE SEVEN RAVENS

paths of virtue, but neither mildness nor severity availed anything: the boys' hearts were hardened. One day, when her patience was quite exhausted, she spoke thus to them: "Oh, you wicked young ravens! would that you were seven black ravens, and would fly away, so that I might never see you again!" and the seven boys immediately became seven ravens, flew out of the window, and disappeared.

The mother now lived with her little daughter in peace and contentment, and was able to earn more than she spent. And the young girl grew up handsome, modest, and good. But after some years had passed, both mother and daughter began to long after the seven boys; they often talked about them and wept; they thought, that could only the seven brothers return and be good lads, how well they could all live by their work and have so much pleasure in one another. And as this longing in the heart of the young maiden increased daily, she one day said to her mother: "Dear mother, let me wander in the world in quest of my brothers, that I may turn them from their wicked ways, and make them a comfort and a blessing to you in your old age." The mother answered : "Thou good girl! I will not restrain thee from accomplishing this pious deed. Go, my child! and may God guide thee." She then gave her a small gold ring which she had formerly worn when a child, at the time the brothers were changed into ravens.

The young girl set out, and wandered far, very far away, and for a very long time found nO' traces of her brothers; but at length she came tO' the foot of a very

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

high mountain, on the top of which stood a small dwelling. At the mountain's foot she sat down to rest, all the while looking up in deep thought at the little habitation. It appeared at first to her like a bird's nest, for it was of a grayish hue, as if built of small stones and mud; then it looked like a human dwelling. She thought within herself: "Can that be my brothers' habitation?" And when she at length saw seven ravens flying out of the house, she was confirmed in her conjecture. Full of joy, she began to ascend the mountain, but the road that led to the summit was paved with such curious glass-like stones, that every time she had with the greatest caution proceeded but a few paces, her feet slipped and she fell down to the bottom. At this she was sadly disheartened, and felt completely at a loss how to get up, when she chanced to see a beautiful white goose, and thought: "If I had only thy wings, I could soon be at the top." She then thought again: "But can I not cut thy wings off ? yes, they would help me." So she caught the beautiful goose, and cut off its wings, also its legs, and sewed them on to herself; and see! when she attempted to fly, she succeeded to perfection; and when she was tired of flying, she walked a little on the goose's feet, and did not slip down again. She arrived at length safely at the desired spot. When at the top of the mountain, she entered the little dwelling; it was very small; within stood seven tiny tables, seven little chairs, seven little beds, and in the room were seven little windows, and in the oven seven little dishes, in which were little baked birds and seven eggs. The good sister was weary after her long jour-

THE SEVEN RAVENS

ney, and rejoiced that she conld once again take some rest and appease her hunger. So she took the seven little dishes out of the oven and ate a little from each, and sat down for a while on each of the seven little chairs, and lay down on each of the little beds, but on the last she fell fast asleep, and there remained until the seven brothers came back. They flew through the seven windows into the room, took their dishes out of the oven, and began to eat; but instantly saw that a part of their fare had disappeared. They then went to lie down, and found their beds rumpled, when one of the brothers uttered a loud cry, and said: "Oh! what a beautiful young girl there is on my bed!" The other brothers flew quickly to see, and with amazement beheld the sleeping maiden. Then the one said to the other: *'Oh, if only she were our sister!" Then they again cried out to each other with joy: "Yes, it is our sister; oh yes, it is, just such hair she had, and just such a mouth, and just such a little gold ring she wore on her middle finger as she now has on her little one." And they all danced for joy, and all kissed their sister, but she continued to sleep so soundly, that it was a long time before she awoke.

At length the maiden opened her eyes, and saw her seven black brothers standing about the bed. She then said: "Oh happy meeting, my dear brothers; God be praised that I have at length found you! I have had a long and tedious journey on your account, in the hope of fetching you back from your banishment, provided your hearts are inclined never more to vex and trouble your good mother; that you will work with us diligently, and

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

be the honour and comfort of your old affectionate parent." Doiring this discourse the brothers wept bitterly, and answered: ''Yes, dearest sister, we will be better, never will we offend our mother again. Alas! as ravens we have led a miserable life, and before we built this hut we almost perished with hunger and cold. Then came repentance, which racked us day and night; for we were obliged to live on the bodies of poor executed criminals, and were thereby always reminded of the sinner's end."

The sister shed tears of joy at her brothers' repentance, and on hearing them utter such pious sentiments: "Oh!" exclaimed she, "all will be well. When you return home, and your mother sees how penitent you are, she will forgive you from her heart, and restore you to your human form."

When the brothers were about tO' return home with their sister, they said, while opening a small box: "Dear sister, take these beautiful gold rings and shining stones, which we have from time to time found abroad: put them in your apron and carry them home with you, for with them we shall be rich as men. As ravens we collected them only on account of their brilliancy." The sister did as her brothers requested her, and was pleased with the beautiful ornaments. As they journeyed home, first one of the ravens and then another bore their sister on their pinions, until they reached their mother's dwelling, when they flew in at the window and implored her forgiveness, and promised that in future they would be dutiful children. Their sister also prayed and supplicated for them, and the mother was full of joy and love, and

THE LITTLE CUP OF TEARS

forgave her seven sons. They then became human beings again, and were fine blooming youths, each one as large and graceful as the other. With heartfelt gratitude they kissed their dear mother and darling sister; and soon after, all the seven brothers married young discreet maidens, built themselves a large beautiful house (for they had sold their jewels for a considerable sum of money), and the house-warming was the wedding of all the seven, brothers. Their sister was also married to an excellent man, and, at the earnest desire of her brothers, she and her husband took up their abode with them.

The good mother had great joy and pleasure in her children in her old age, and as long as she lived was loved and honoured by them.

THE LITTLE CUP OF TEARS.

There was once a mother and a child, and the mother loved this her only child with her whole heart, and thought she could not live without it; but the Almighty sent a great sickness among children, which also seized this little one, who lay on its bed sick even to death. Three days and three nights the mother watched, and wept, and prayed by the side of her darling child; but it died. The mother, now left alone in the wide world, gave way to the most violent and unspeakable grief; she ate nothing and drank nothing, and wept, wept, wept three long days and three long nights without ceasing, calling constantly upon her child. The third night, as she thus sat overcome with suffering in the place where

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

her child had died, her eyes bathed in tears, and faint from grief, the door soiftly opened, and the mother started, for before her stood her departed child. It had become a heavenly angel, and smiled sweetly as innocence, and was beautiful like the blessed. It had in its hand a small cup, that was almost running over, so full it was. And the child spoke: "O! dearest mother, weep no more for me; the angel of mourning has collected in this little cup the tears which you have shed for me. If for me you shed but one tear more, it will overflow, and I shall have no more rest in the grave, and no joy in heaven. Therefore, O dearest mother! weep no more for your child; for it is well and happy, and angels are its companions." It then vanished.

The mother shed no more tears, that she might not disturb her child's rest in the grave and its joys in heaven. For the sake of her infant's happiness, she controlled the anguish of her heart. So strong and self-sacrificing is a mother's love.

THE MAN IN THE MOON.i

Very, very long ago there was a man who' went into the forest one Sunday to cut wood. Having chopped a large quantity of brushwood, he tied it together, thrust a stick through the bundle, threw it over his shoulder, and was on his way home, when there met him on the road a comely man, dressed in his Sunday clothes, who was going to church. He stopped, and, accosting the wood-

iSee Chaucer, Testament of Cresseide. 260-263, Shakspeare, Tempest, ii. 2. Mids. Night's Dream, i. 3; also Grimm, Deutsche Myth-ologie, p. 679.

LOR A, THE GODDESS OF LOVE

cutter, said: "Dost thou not know that on earth this is Sunday, the day on which God rested from his works, after he had created the world, with all the beasts of the field, and also man? Dost thou not know what is written in the fourth commandment, 'Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath-day?' " The questioner was our Lord himself. The wood-cutter was hardened, and answered: "Whether it is Sunday on earth or Monday (Moonday) in heaven, what does it concern me or thee?"

"For this thou shalt for ever bear thy bundle of wood," said the Lord; "and because the Sunday on earth is profaned by thee, thou shalt have an everlasting Monday, and stand in the moon, a warning to all such as break the Sunday by work."

From that time the man stands in the moon, with his faggot of brushwood, and will stand there to all eternity.

LORA, THE GODDESS OF LOVE.

The mountain-fortress of Lora is so called from a goddess of that name. Before Charles, the conqueror of Saxony, and his missionary, Winfrid,^ had baptized the subjugated inhabitants of the Harz, Lora was held in great veneration by the Saxons of those parts. To her was consecrated a large awe-inspiring forest, the remains of which, even at the present day, almost involuntarily, and as it were by enchantment, transport our thoughts

iThe apostle of Germany, better known by his ecclesiastical name of Boniface. He was born at Crediton in the year 680, and was murdered by the Pagan Frisians in 755. Boniface placed the crown on the head of Pepin, the first monarch of the Carlovingian race, and, besides many monasteries in Germany, founded the sees of Erfurt, Buraburg, Eichstadt, and Wurzburg. He died archbishop of Mentz.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

back to ages long passed away. The only memorial of it, at the present day, is a wood of small extent, the abode O'f numberless flocks of birds, called the Ruhensburg, between the Reinhartsberg, Bleicherode, and the fortress of Lora, together with some detached woods, among which well-built villages, watered by the Wipper, now enliven the delightful landscape, to which the distant Brocken serves as a background.

From this forest the youths, in time of old, offered to the goddess Lora, in the autumn, the first-fruits of the chase; and in the spring, the young maidens, singing joyful songs, brought wreaths of flowers to the goddess. With the finest wreath the high priest of Lora solemnly adorned the head of that maiden who had most distinguished herself by the feminine virtues: by constancy in love, and by unshaken fidelity to- her beloved.

In the middle of the mountain on which Lora was principally worshiped there gushed forth a spring, tO' which a pilgrimage was made by unhappy lovers, especially young maidens, whom death had bereft of their beloved, in the hope that, by drinking of those waters, they might obtain peace and forgetfulness. On the summit of this mountain a noble Saxon lady, whose lover had fallen in a battle with the Franks, built the Ruhensburg,^ from which the wood derives its present name. She called the spot the Ruhensburg, because in the wood the goddess sent her a new lover worthy of her, whose love comforted the mourner, and gave back tO' her heart its long-lost peace.

But terrible was this sacred forest to the faithless

iFrom ruhe, peace of mind, quiet, and burg, castle.

LOR A. THE GODDESS OF LOVE

lover. There Hermtrud expiated her crime with her Hfe. She was betrothed tO' Eilgern, a noble Saxon youth. The defence of his country tore him from her. At parting, she swore to him, with hypocritical tears, eternal fidelity; but in a few days after, Lora saw the violator of faith and duty in the arms of Herrman. The culprits had concealed themselves in the Buchen, a wood not far from the Ruhensburg-. Here Lora startled them by a deer that came rushing through the thicket; and Hermtrud fled, and entered, without reflection, Lora's sacred grove. The mountain trembled, and the earth darted forth flames, which consumed the false-hearted fair one. The priests hastened tO' the spot, collected Hermtrud's ashes, and buried them in a little valley at the foot of the mountain. Here may still be heard at twilight the mournful wail of the false one, a warning to all faithless lovers not to enter the sacred grove.

Winfrid, the terror of Saxon gods, together with his companions, destroyed the Ruhensburg; for Lora's might had then fled. The following act of revenge exhausted her last remaining powers. Not far from the Reinharts-berg she overtook Winfrid, exulting in his spiritual victories. His carriage and horses suddenly stuck fast in the mire; and he would have been instantly swallowed up, had not his prayers to the Holy Virgin saved him. In memory of this danger he erected three crosses, which are yet to be seen, on the spot where the abyss opened its jaws to receive him, and in his misery dedicated, in Lora's wood, a chapel to the Virgin. From this event the place is still called Elend (Misery).

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

THE GOATHERD.

(the story which suggested to WASHINGTON IRVING THE EEGEND OE HAPPY HOEEOW—RIP VAN WINKEE.)

Peter Ceaus, a goatherd from Sittendorf, who led his herd to pasture on the Kyffhauser, was accustomed in the evening to stop and let them rest in a place inclosed by old walls, and there to count them.

He had observed for several days that one of his finest goats, as soon as they came to this place, disappeared, and did not follow the herd till quite late. He watched it more closely, and saw that it crept through a rent in the wall. He followed and found it in a cave comfortably enjoying some oats which were falling from the roof. He looked up at seeing the rain of oats, but with all his peering, was unable to solve the mystery. At length he heard the neighing and stamping of horses overhead, from whose cribs the oats must have fallen.

While the goatherd was thus standing, lost in astonishment at hearing the sound of horses in such an uninhabited mountain, a young man suddenly appeared, who silently beckoned Peter to follow him. The goatherd ascended some steps, and came through a walled courtyard to a deep dell, inclosed by steep craggy precipices, down into which a dim light penetrated through the dense foliage of the overhanging branches. Here he found, on a well-levelled, cool grass-plot, twelve grave knightly personages playing at skittles, not one of them uttering a

THE GOATHERD

word. Peter was silently directed to set up the fallen

skittles.

He began his task with trembling knees, when with a stolen glance he viewed the long beards and slashed doublets of the noble knights. By degrees, however, use made him bolder; he gazed around him with a more observing eye, and at length ventured to drink from a can that stood near him, the wine in which exhaled towards him a delicious fragrance. He felt as if inspired with new life, and as often as he was fatigued, he drew fresh strength from the inexhaustible wine-can. But at length he was overpowered by sleep.

When he awoke, he fomid himself again on the inclosed plain, where his goats had been accustomed to rest. He rubbed his eyes, but could see neither dog nor goats; he was astonished at the height of the grass, and at the sight of shrubs and trees which he had never before observed. Shaking his head, he walked on through all the ways and paths, along which he had been in the daily habit of wandering with his herd; but nowhere could he find a trace of his goats. At his feet he saw Sittendorf, and with quickened steps began to descend the mountain, for the purpose of inquiring in the village after his herd. The people he met coming from the village were all strangers to him, and differently clad, and did not even speak like his acquaintances; every one stared at him, when he inquired after his goats, and stroked their chins; he unconsciously did the same, and found, to his astonishment, that his beard was more than a foot long. He began to think that both himself and all around were bewitched;

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

nevertheless, he recognised the mountain he had just descended as the Kyffhauser; the houses also' with their gardens were familiar to him; some boys, too, when asked by a traveller the name of the place, answered: "Sittendorf."

He now walked up the village towards his own hut. He found it in a very ruinous condition: before it lay a strange herd-boy, in a ragged jacket, and by him a half-famished dog, which showed its teeth and snarled when he called to it.

He passed through an opening where once had been a door; when he entered he found all void and desolate. Like a drunken man he reeled out at the back-door, calling on wife and children by name. But no one heard— no voice answered. Soon many women and children collected round the old graybeard, all eagerly asking him what he sought. To ask before his own house after his wife and children, or after himself, appeared to him so extraordinary, that, in order to get rid of his questioners, he named the first one that recurred to his memory, "Kurt Stefifen!" All were now silent and looked at each other. At length an aged woman said: "For more than twelve years he has dwelt under the Sachsenburg, but you will not get so far to-day." "Where is Velter Meier?" "God be merciful to him," answered an old crone, leaning on her crutches, "for more than fifteen years he has lain in that house, which he will never leave." Shuddering, he now recognised a neighbour, though, as it seemed to him, grown suddenly old; but he had lost all desire to make further inquiries. There now pressed forward

THE DWELLER IN THE ILSENSTEIN

through the inquisitive crowd, a young comely woman with a boy in her arms about a year old, and a little fellow of four years holding by her hand; they were all three the image of his wife. "What is your name?" asked he with astonishment. "Maria." "And your father's?" "God be merciful to him, Peter Glaus. It is now twenty years and more that we searched for him a whole day and night upon the Kyffhauser, the herd having come back without him. I was then seven years old."

No longer could the goatherd dissemble: "I am Peter Glaus," he exclaimed, "and no other," taking the boy-out of his daughter's arms. Every one stood as if petrified, until first one voice and then another exclaimed: "Yes, that is Peter Glaus! Welcome, neighbour, welcome after twenty years!"

THE DWELLER IN THE ILSENSTEIN.

Hast thou never seen the beautiful maiden sitting on the Ilsenstein? Every morning with the first beams of the sun, she opens the rock and goes down to the Use to bathe in its clear cold waters. True, the power of seeing her is not granted to every one, but those who have seen her, praise her beauty and benevolence. She often dispenses the treasures contained in the Ilsenstein; and many families owe their prosperity to the lovely maiden.

Once, very early in the morning, a charcoal-burner, proceeding to the forest, saw the maiden sitting on the Ilsenstein. He greeted her in a friendly tone, and she

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

beckoned to him to follow her. He went, and they soon stood before the great rock. She knocked thrice, and the Ilsenstein opened. She entered, and brought him back his wallet filled, but strictly enjoined him not to open it till he reached his hut. He took it with thanks. As he proceeded, he was struck by the weight of the wallet, and would gladly have seen what it contained. At length, when he came to the bridge across the Use, he could no longer withstand his curiosity. He opened it, and saw in it acorns and fir-cones. Indignant he shook the cones and acorns from the bridge down into the swollen stream, when he instantly heard a loud jingling as the acorns and cones touched the stones of the Use, and found tO' his dismay that he had shaken out gold. He then very prudently wrapped up the little remnant that he had found in the corners of the wallet, and carried them carefully home; and even this was enough to enable him to purchase a small house and garden.

But who is this maiden? Listen to what our fathers and mothers have told us. At the Deluge, when the waters of the North Sea overflowed the valleys and plains of Lower Saxony, a youth and a maiden, who had been long attached to each other, fled from the North country towards the Harz mountains, in the hope of saving their lives. As the waters rose they also mounted higher and higher, continually approaching the Brocken, which in the distance appeared to offer them a safe retreat. At length they stood upon a vast rock, which reared its head far above the raging waters. From this spot they saw the whole surrounding country covered by the flood, and

THE ROSSTRAPPE

houses, and animals, and men had disappeared. Here they stood alone and gazed on the foaming waves, which dashed against the foot of the rock.

The waters rose still higher, and already they thought of fleeing farther over a yet uncovered ridge of rock, and climbing to the summit of the Brocken, which appeared like a large island rising above the billowy sea.

At this moment the rock on which they stood trembled under their feet and split asunder, threatening every instant to separate the lovers. On the left side towards the Brocken stood the maiden, on the right the youth; their hands were firmly clasped in each other's; the precipice inclined right and left outwards; the maiden and the youth sank into the flood.

The maiden was called Use, and she gave her name to the beautiful Ilsenthal, to the river which flows through it, and to the Ilsenstein, in which she still dwells.

THE ROSSTRAPPE; OR, HORSE'S FOOT-MARK.

The Rosstrappe, or Horse's Foot-mark, is the name of a rock in the lofty projection of the Harz behind Thale, with an oval cavity bearing some resemblance to the impression of a gigantic horse's hoof, which many passengers ascend, on account of the beautiful romantic Swisslike view from its summit.

Popular tradition gives the following account of the cavity.

More than a thousand years ago, before the robber-knights had erected the surrounding castles of Hoym-

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

burg, Leuenburg, Steckelnburg, and Winzenburg, the whole country round the Harz was inhabited by giants, who were heathens and sorcerers. They knew no other pleasure than murder, rapine, and violence. If in want of weapons, they tore up the nearest sexagenarian oak, and fought with it. Whatever stood in their way they beat down with their clubs, and the women who pleased them they carried off by force, to be either their servants or wives.

In the Bohemian forest there lived at that time a giant named Bohdo, of vast stature and strength, and the terror of the whole country; every giant in Bohemia and Franconia crouched before him; but he could not prevail on Emma, the daughter of the king of the Riesengebirge,^ to return his love. Here neither strength nor stratagem availed him aught; for she stood in compact with a mighty spirit. One day Bohdo caught sight of his beloved as she was hunting on the Schneekoppe, and instantly saddled his horse, which could spring over the plains at the rate of five miles a minute, and swore by all the powers of darkness to obtain Emma this time or perish in the attempt. Quicker than the hawk flies he darted forward, and had almost overtaken her before she was aware that her enemy was sO' near. But when she saw him only nine miles behind, and knew him by the gates of a destroyed town, which served him as a shield, she hastily urged on her horse. And it flew, impelled by her spurs, from mountain to mountain, from clifif to cliff, through valleys, morasses and forests, so that the beeches

lOr Giant-mountains, a chain of mountains which separate Silesia from Bohemia, the highest of which is the Schneekoppe.

THE ROSSTRAPPE

and oaks were scattered like so much stubble by the force of her horse's hoofs. Thus she fled through the country of Thuringia, and came to the mountains of the Harz. From time to time she heard behind her the snorting of Bohdo's horse, and then pushed on her yet unwearied steed to new exertions.

Her horse now stood snorting and panting on the frightful rock which, from the evil one holding his revels there, is called the Devil's Dancing-place. Emma cast a fearful glance around, her horse trembled as it looked into the abyss, for the precipice was perpendicular as a tower, and more than a thousand feet down to the yawning gulf below. She heard the hollow rushing of the water under her feet, which here formed a frightful whirlpool. The opposite rock, on the other side of the precipice, appeared to her even more distant than the abyss, and hardly to afford space enough for one of her horse's fore-feet.

Here she stood, anxious and doubtful. Behind her was an enemy whom she dreaded more than death itself. Before her was the abyss, which opened its jaws towards her. Emma now again heard the snorting of Bohdo's panting horse. In her terror she called upon the spirits of her fathers for help, and without reflection pressed the ell-long spurs into the sides of her steed; and she sprang! sprang across over the abyss, and happily reached the opposite rock; but it struck its hoofs four feet deep into the hard stone, so that the flying sparks illumined the whole country around like lightning. This is the horse's foot-mark. Time has made the hollow less, but no rains can entirely efface it.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

Emma was saved! but the gold crown which she wore, and which weighed a hundred pounds, fell into the abyss as the horse sprang across it. Bohdo, who saw only Emma and not the abyss, sprang after the fugitive, and fell with his horse into the vortex of the stream, to which he gave its name.^

Here, changed into a black dog, he guards the princess's golden crown, that no thirster after gold may raise it up from the foaming gulf, A diver once, induced by large promises, tried to obtain it. He descended into the abyss, found the crown, and raised it so high, that all the assembled people could see the rays of it. Twice it fell from his hands, and the spectators called to him to descend a third time. He did so, and—a stream of blood rose high up in the air. The diver never appeared again.

With fear and horror the traveller now approaches the gulf, which is covered with the darkness of night. The stillness of the grave reigns over the abyss. No birds fly over it, and, in the dead of the night, may often be heard in the distance the hollow dog-like howl of the heathen

At the present day the whirlpool where the dog guards the golden crown is called the Kreetpfuhl," and the rock where Emma implored the aid of the spirits of her fathers, the Devil's Dancing-place,

iThe Bode, which, with the Emme and the Saale, flows into the Elbe. 2Tfaat is, the devil's pool. So Kreetkind, the devil's child, in the dialect of those parts.

KING WALDEMAR

KING WALDEMAR.i

Not far from Bau there stood formerly the hiinting--seat of Waldemarstoft, where King Waldemar was accustomed to pass the summer and autumn, that he might enjoy his favourite diversion of the chase. The king once, accompanied by many huntsmen and dogs, rode early in the morning tO' the forest. The hunt was good, but the more game they found, the stronger grew his desire to continue the chase. The day ended, the sun went down, yet still he did not give in. But when dark night set it, and it was nO' longer possible to continue the sport, the king exclaimed: "Oh! that I could hunt for ever!" A voice was then heard in the air, saying: "Thy wish shall be granted. King Waldemar, from this hour thou shalt hunt for ever." Soon after the king died, and from the day of his death he rides every night, on a snow-white horse, through the air, in furious chase, surrounded by his huntsmen and dogs. It is only on St. John's night that he is to be heard; but in the city-ditch at Flensborg he has been also heard in the autumn. The air then resounds with the echo of the horn and the baying of dogs, with whistling and calling, as if a whole party were in motion. People then say, "There goes King Waldemar!"

The old hunting-place is now converted into an inn; but one of the rooms still remains in the same state it was

^This was Waldemar IV.. king of Denmark. He reigned from 1334 to 1375. He is distinguished by the sobriquet of Atterdag, given him, it is said, in consequence of a phrase he was constantly using: "Morgen er atter en dag," To-morrow is again a day.

SCANDINAVIAN AND NORTH GERMAN TALES

in when inhabited by King Waldemar. The walls are covered with old pictures; in one corner is a canopy-bed over which is a dark red velvet coverlet, bordered with gold fringe, in very tolerable preservation. There is also an old organ, on which the king was in the habit of playing. In this room he was once shot at. The murderer fired through the door, but missed his aim, and hit the wall where the king's picture hung. There is a hole in the picture through which the bullet passed before it entered the wall, where the mark is still visible.

WHY THE SEA IS SALT.

Onck on a time, but it was a long, long time ago, there were two brothers, one rich and one poor. Now, one Christmas eve, the poor one hadn't so much as a crumb in the house, either of meat or bread, so he went to his brother to ask him for something to keep Christmas with, in God's name. It was not the first time his brother had been forced to help him, and you may fancy he wasn't very glad to see his face, but he said—

"If you will do what I ask you to do, I'll give you a whole flitch of bacon."

So the poor brother said he would do anything, and was full of thanks.

"Well, here is the flitch," said the rich brother, "and now go straight to Hell."

"What I have given my word to do, I must stick to." said the other; so he took the flitch and set off. He

WHY THE SEA IS SALT

walked the whole day, and at dusk he came to a place where he saw a very bright light.

"Maybe this is the place/' said the man to himself. So he turned aside, and the first thing he saw was an old, old man, with a long white beard, who stood in an outhouse, hewing wood for the Christmas fire.

"Good even," said the man with the flitch.

"The same to you; whither are you going so late?" said the man.

"Oh! I'm going to Hell, if I only knew the right way," answered the poor man.

"Well, you're not far wrong, for this is Hell," said the old man; "when you get inside they will be all for buying your flitch, for meat is scarce in Hell; but mind, you don't sell it unless you get the hand-quern which stands behind the door for it. When you come out, I'll teach you how to handle the quern, for it's good to grind almost anything."

So the man with the flitch thanked the other for his good advice, and gave a great knock at the Devil's door.

When he got in, everything went just as the old man had said. All the devils, great and small, came swarming up to him like ants round an anthill, and each tried to outbid the other for the flitch.