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FAIRY     TALES 


BY 


EDOUARD  LABOULAYE 


WITH 
TWO  HUNDRED  AND  FIFTY-ONE  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PHILADELPHIA: 
DAVID    McKAY,    PUBLISHER, 

610   SOUTH    WASHINGTON   SQUARE. 


CONTENTS. 


Thumbkin.     A  Finnish  Tale.  .  .  . 

The  Good  Woman.     A  Norwegian  Story. 
ICELANDIC  TALES: 

The  Story  of  Briam,  the  King's  FooL 

The  Little  Gray  Man. 

The  Fleece  of  Gold.     A  Servian  Story.  .  . 

Zerbino,  the  Bear.     A  Neapolitan  Tale.     .  . 

Fragolette.          .  .  .  .  • 

Yvon  and  Finette.    ..... 

Piff-Paff ;  or,  the  Art  of  Government.  •  • 

The  Mysterious  Garden.      .... 

BOHEMIAN  STORIES  : 

A  Frenchman's  Visit  to  Prague.  . 

Are  You  Not  Satisfied  ?  or,  The  Tale  of  the  Noses. 

The  Golden  Loaf.          .... 

The  Hussar's  Song.  .... 

427829 


PAGE. 

9, 
31 


62 

75 

87 

112 
121 

I58 
195 

201 

208 
212 


Contents. 


BOHEMIAN  STORIES: 

The  Story  of  Sswanda  the  Piper. 

The  Twelve  Months. 

The  Story  of  the  King  of  Ethiopia     . 
The  Three  Lemons.     A  Neapolitan  Tale. 
Captain  John's  Travels. 
Perlino.     A  Neapolitan  Story. 
The  Shepherd  Pashaw.     A  Turkish  Story. 
The  Castle  of  Life. 


220 

225 
232 

234 
252 

290 
320 

335 


FAIRY    TALES. 


THUMBKIN. 


A    FINNISH     TALE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  peasant  who  had  three  sons — Peter,  Paul,  and 
John.  Peter  was  big,  red-cheeked,  and  stupid ;  and  Paul  was  thin,  sallow, 
and  envious  ;  whilst  John  was  brimful  of  fun  and  as  fair  as  a  woman,  but  such  a 
tiny  fellow  that  he  could  easily  have  hidden  himself  in  his  father's  big  boots ;  so 
he  was  nick-named  Thumbkin.  All  the  peasant's  wealth  consisted  of  his  sons, 
he  had  nothing  else  besides,  and  it  was  a  grand  day  in  the  cottage  when  a 
halfpenny  was  to  be  seen  there.  Rye  was  dear,  and  life  very  hard  to  these  poor 
folk.  From  the  time  the  three  children  could  do  any  work,  their  father  was 
always  urging  them  to  leave  the  hut  where  they  were  born,  and  go  forth  into  the 
world  to  seek  their  fortune. 

He  used  to  say,  "  It  may  not  be  always  easy  to  earn  one's  living  away  from 
home,  but  any  how  there  is  a  chance  of  earning  it  ;  whilst  here,  the  only  thing 
one  can  look  forward  to  is  to  die  of  hunger." 

About  a  league  from  the  hut  stood  the  palace  of  the  king,  a  magnificent 
building  all  of  wood,  with  beautifully  carved  balconies  and  glazed  windows.  Lo 
and  behold  !  one  fine  summer  night,  just  in  front  of  the  windows,  a  great  oak-tree 
sprang  up,  with  such  thick  branches  and  foliage  that  it  almost  hid  the  palace. 
To  cut  down  this  giant  tree  was  not  an  easy  matter ;  there  was  not  an  ax  that 
did  not  blunt  itself  against  the  trunk,  and  for  every  branch  or  root  that  was  cut 
off  two  sprang  up  in  its  place.  In  vain  the  king  promised  three  bags  of  silver 


10 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


to  the  man  who  would  rid  him  of  this  inconvenient  neighbor.  Tired  of  the 
fruitless  struggle,  the  king  at  last  was  obliged  to  resign  himself  to  having  all 
the  lamps  in  his  palace  lit  in  broad  daylight. 

That  was  not  all ;  in  this  country  streams  issued  out  of  the  very  stones,  and 
yet  there  was  no  watef^to'^be  had/ on .:thel  royal  domain.  In  the  summer  the 
Court  was  obliged  to  wash'  their" 'harfds 'with  beer,  and  their  faces  with  mead. 
It  was  a  crying  sharaje  ?  jaAd'£he:lqng  had  promised  lands  and  money,  with  the 
title  of  marquis,  to  any  one  who  wouTd'dig  a' well  in  the  courtyard  of  the  castle 
deep  enough  to  get  water  all  the  year  round.  But  no  one  was  able  to  earn  the 
reward,  for  the  palace  stood  on  a  hill,  and  a  foot  below  the  surface  was  a  bed  of 
granite. 

The  king  could  think 
of  nothing  else,  and  was 
determined  not  to  be 
beaten,  for  though  his 
kingdom  was  very  small 
he  was  as  obstinate  as 
the  Emperor  of  China. 
To  attain  his  object  he 
had  great  placards  em- 
blazoned with  the  royal 
arms  posted  up  all  over 
his  dominions,  by  which 
he  offered  no  less  than 
the  hand  of  the  princess 
and  the  half  of  his  king- 
dom to  whoever  should 
cut  down  the  oak  and  dig  the  well.  The  princess  was  as  beautiful  as  the  day, 
and  half  the  kingdom  was  not  to  be  despised  ;  so  here  was  a  bait  rich  enough  to 
tempt  more  than  one  ambitious  soul,  and  from  Sweden  and  Norway,  Denmark, 
Russia,  the  continent,  and  the  adjacent  islands,  came  a  crowd  of  stout  workmen, 
armed  with  axes  and  mattocks.  But  in  vain  they  cut  and  hacked  and  chipped 
and  dug,  it  was  all  labor  lost.  At  every  blow  the  oak  became  harder,  and  the 
granite  no  softer,  so  that  the  strongest  had  at  last  give  to  up  in  despair. 


Thumbkin. 


II 


CHAPTER  II. 

ONE  day,  after  the  king's  proclamation, 
which  completely  turned  every  body's 
head,  had  been  a  great  deal  under  discussion, 
the  three  brothers  asked  themselves  why  they 
should  not  try  their  luck,  if  their  father  would 
give  his  consent.  They  never  dreamed  of  suc- 
cess, and  did  not  aspire  either  to  the  hand  of 
the  princess  or  to  the  half  of  the  kingdom,  but 
they  thought  they  might  find  employment  and 
a  kind  master  at  the  Court  or  elsewhere.  Their 
father  approved  of  their  project,  so  they  started 
off  for  the  king's  palace. 

As  they  journeyed  Thumbkin  ran  along  the 
side  of  the  road  with  the  swiftness  of  a  grey- 
hound, watching  every  thing,  studying  every 
thing,  and  ferreting  about  everywhere.  Insects, 
wild  flowers,  and  pebbles  all  attracted  his  atten- 
tion. He  was  constantly  stopping  his  brothers 
to  ask  them  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of 
every  thing ;  why  the  bees  entered  the  calyxes 
of  flowers,  why  the  swallows  skimmed  along  the 
streams,  why  the  butterflies  flew  to  and  fro  in 
zigzags.  Peter  burst  out  laughing  at  all  these 
questions,  and  Paul  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
told  Thumbkin  to  be  silent,  calling  him  a  con- 
ceited and  inquisitive  fellow. 

On  their  way  they  entered  a  great  pine- wood, 
which  covered  a  mountain  side,  and  in  the  dis- 
tance above  them  they  heard  the  sound  of  an 
ax,  and  the  crash  of  falling  branches. 

"  It  surprises  me  that  people  should  cut  down  trees  on  the  summit  of  a  moun- 
tain," said  Thumbkin. 

"  I  should  be  very  much  surprised   if  you  were  not  surprised,"    replied  Paul 
dryly.     "  Every  thing  is  marvelous  to  the  ignorant." 


12 


Laboulayes  Fairy    Tales. 


"  What  a  baby !     One  would  think  that  you  had  never  seen  a  wood-cutter/ 
added  Peter,  patting  his  little  brother  on  the  cheek. 

"  All  the  same,"  said  Thumbkin,  "  I  am  curious  to  see  what  is  going  on  up  there." 
"  Go  and  see,"  rejoined  Paul,    "  and  tire  yourself   out.     It  will   be  a  lesson 
to   you,   conceited   boy ;    you  always  want   to   know   more   than    your    elder 
brothers." 

Thumbkin,  without  heeding  this  remark,  set  off  to  climb  in  the  direction 
whence  came  the  sound  of  the  ax.  When  he  reached  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
what  do  you  think  he  found  ?  An  enchanted  ax  which  by  itself  was  hewing 
down  a  tall  and  noble  pine-tree. 

"  Good  morning,  Madam  Ax,"  said 
Thumbkin.  "  Does  it  not  tire  you  to 
hack  away  all  by  yourself  at  that  old 
tree  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  many 
years,  my  son,  "  answered  the  ax. 

"All    right,     here     I     am,"    rejoined 
Thumbkin,  and  he  coolly  took  the  ax, 
and    putting    it    into    his    big    leathern 
wallet,  lightly  descended  the   mountain. 
"And  what   marvel   did   our   young 
master,  who  is  so  easily  astonished,  see 
up  there  ?  "  inquired  Paul,  looking  coix 
temptuously  at  Thumbkin. 

"  It  was  an  ax  that  we  heard,"  answered  the  lad. 

"  I  told  you  so,"  said  Peter,  "  so  your  trouble  was  useless,  and  you  would  have 
done  better  to  stay  with  us." 

A  little  further  on  the  road  lay  through  masses  of  rock,  and  in  the  distance 
they  heard  above  them  a  hard  sound,  like  iron  ringing  against  stone. 

"  I  am  surprised  that  people  should  be  striking  the  rock  up  there,"  said 
Thumbkin. 

"  Really,"  said  Paul,  "  the  chicken  is  only  just  hatched,  so  he  has  never  heard 
a  woodpecker  pecking  at  the  old  trunk  of  a  tree  before  !  " 

"That's  what  it  is,"  said  Peter  laughing,  "it  is  a  woodpecker.  Stay  with  us, 
youngster." 

"  All  the  same,"  replied  Thumbkin,  "  I  am  curious  to  see  what  is  going  on 
up  there." 


Thumbkin. 


And  he  climbed  up  the  face  of  the  rock  on  his  hands  and  knees,  whilst  Peter 
and  Paul  laughed  at  him  for  his  pains.  When  he  reached  the  top,  what  do 
you  think  he  found  ?  An  enchanted  pickax,  which  all  by  itself  was  piercing 
the  rock  as  easily  as  if  it  had  been  soft  earth.  At  each  stroke  it  went  more  than 
a  foot  into  the  ground. 

"  Good  day,  Madam  Pickax,"  said  Thumbkin.  "  Does  it  not  tire  you  to  be 
digging  away  all  by  yourself  at  that  old  rock  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  a  long  time,  my  son,"  returned  the 
pickax. 

"All  right,  here  I 
am,"  replied  Thumb- 
kin,  and  without  more 
ado  he  took  the  pick- 
ax, undid  the  handle, 


and  putting  the  two 
pieces  into  his  big 
leathern  bag,  quickly 
descended  the  moun- 
tain. 

"  Pray  what  miracle  did  his  lordship  see  up  there  ?  "  asked  Paul,  in  a  sneering 
tone. 

"  It  was  a  pickax  that  we  heard,"  answered  the  boy,  and  he  walked  on  without 
saying  any  thing  more. 

A  little  further  on  they  came  to  a  stream.  The  water  was  cool,  and  as  clear 
as  crystal,  and  our  travelers  being  thirsty,  each  commenced  to  drink  out  of 
his  hand. 

"  I  am  surprised  there  should  be  so  much  water  in  a  valley  like 
this,"  said  Thumbkin.  "  I  should  like  to  know  where  this  stream  comes 
from." 

"  So  the  youngster  does  not  know  that  streams  issue  out  of  the  ground," 
sneered  Paul. 

"  All  the  same,"  replied  Thumbkin,  "  I  am  curious  to  see  whence  this  water 
comes." 

And  he  set  off  to  find  the  source  of  the  stream,  in  spite  of  the  jeers  and 
remonstrances  of  his  brothers.  On  and  on  he  went,  whilst  the  water  grew  less 
and  less.  When  he  reached  the  end  of  the  valley,  he  saw,  to  his  astonishment,  the 
water  bubbling  up  out  of  a  walnut-shell. 


Laboulaye's  Fairy  Tales. 


"  Good  morrow,  Madam  Spring,"  cried 
Thumbkin.  "  Does  it  not  tire  you  to  spout 
away  there  all  by  yourself  in  that  little 
corner?" 

"  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  for 
many  years,  my  son,"  replied  the  walnut- 
shell. 

"  All  right ;  here  I  am,"  said  Thumbkin  ; 
and,  taking  the  nut-shell,  he  stuffed  it  with 
moss,  so  that  the  water  could  not  escape ; 
then  putting  it  into  his  wallet,  he  quickly 
rejoined  his  brothers. 

"  Have  you  discovered  the  source  of  the 
stream  now?"  cried  Peter,  as  soon  as  he 
caught  sight  of  him. 

"  Yes,  brother,"  said  Thumbkin ;  "  it 
comes  up  out  of  a  little  hole." 

"  The  child  is  too  clever  by  half,"  said 
Paul ;  "  we  shall  never  be  able  to  rear 
him." 

"  I  have  seen  all  I  wanted  to  see,  and 
have  learned  all  I  wanted  to  know,  and 
that  is  enough  for  me,"  murmured  Thumb- 
kin,  rubbing  his  hands. 


A 


CHAPTER  III. 

T  last  they  reached  the  king's  palace. 
The  oak  was  bigger  and  more  um- 
brageous than  ever:  there  was  no  well  in  the  courtyard  of  the  castle,  and  at 
the  palace-gate  there  hung  as  usual  the  great  placard  which  promised  the  hand 
of  the  princess  and  half  the  kingdom  to  the  man — were  he  noble,  peasant,  or 
trader — who  should  achieve  the  two  things  on  which  the  king  had  set  his 
heart.  However,  since  the  king  was  wearied  with  so  many  fruitless  efforts, 
which  only  served  to  dishearten  him,  a  smaller  placard  had  been  posted  below 


Thumb  kin. 


the  larger  one,  and  on  it  was  written  in  red  letters  the  following  announcement : 
— "Be  k  known  that  his  majesty  the  king,  in  his  exceeding  goodness,  has  deigned 
to  proclaim  that  whoever  shall  unsuccessfully  attempt 
to  cut  down  the  oak  or  dig  a  well,  shall  have  his  ears 
cut  off  to  teach  him  to  know  himself,  which  is  the  first 
step  towards  wisdom." 

And  in  order  that  every  body  might  profit  by  this 
prudent  advice,  a  couple  of  dozen  ears  had  been  nailed 
up  round  the  placard  for  the  encouragement  of  those 
who  were  wanting  in  humility.  When  Peter  had  read 
the  proclamation  he  burst  out  laughing,  twirled  his 
mustaches,  and  looked  complacently  at  his  arms,  on 
which  the  swelling  veins  stood  out  like  thick  cords  ; 
he  then  twice  flourished  his  woodman's  ax  round  his 
head,  and  at  a  blow  cut  off  one  of  the  thickest  branches 
of  the  enchanted  tree. 

In  a  moment  two  others  sprouted  in  its  place,  each 
thicker  and  sturdier  than  the  first ;  whereupon  the  king's 
guards  seized  the  unfortunate  woodman,  and  then  and 
there  cut  off  his  ears. 

"  You  are  only  a  blunderer,"  said  Paul  to  his  brother ; 
and  taking  the  hatchet  in  his  turn,  he  walked  slowly 
round  the  tree,  and  seeing  a  root  which  showed  above 
the  ground,  he  cut  it  off  at  a  single  blow.  In  an 
instant  two  enormous  roots  appeared  in  its  place,  and 
a  vigorous  shoot  sprang  up  from  each. 

"  Seize  the  fool !  "  cried  the  enraged  king ;  "  and  as 
he  did  not  profit  by  his  brother's  example,  cut  off 
both  his  ears  close  to  his  cheek." 

This  was  no  sooner  said  than  done  ;  but  this  double 
family  misfortune  did  not  seem  to  daunt  Thumbkin. 
He  approached  with  a  firm  step  to  try  his  luck. 

"  Send  that  little  shrimp  away  !  "  exclaimed  the  king ; 
"  and   if  he  makes  any  resistance,    cut  off   his  ears, 
and  we  shall  be  spared  the  consequences  of  his  folly." 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  returned  Thumbkin ;  "  a  king  must  abide 
by  his  word,  and  I  have  the  right  to  make  the  attempt.  There  will  be  time 
enough  to  cut  off  my  ears  when  I  have  failed." 


learn  a   lesson, 


i6 


Laboulaycs  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Away  with  you,  then  !  "  said  the  king,  sighing ;  "  but  take  care  that  I  do 
not  have  your  nose  off  into  the  bargain." 

From  the  depths  of  his  leathern  wallet  Thumbkin  drew  out  the  enchanted 


ax;  it  was  almost  as  big  as  himself,  and  he  had  some  difficulty  in  setting  it 
on  end  with  the  handle  resting  on  the  ground. 
"  Hew  away !  hew  away ! "  he  cried. 


Thumb  kin. 


Instantly  the  ax  chopped  and  hewed 
right  and  left:  trunk,  branches  and  roots 
were  all  reduced  to  little  bits  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour ;  and  there  was  so  much  wood 
that  the  whole  Court  was  supplied  with 
firing  for  a  twelvemonth. 

When  the  tree  was  cut  down,  Thumbkin 
approached  the  king,  at  whose  side  sat  the 
princess,  and,  making  them  both  a  graceful 
bow,  said  :  "  Is  your  majesty  satisfied  with 
his  faithful  subject  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  king ;  "  but  I  want  my 
well,  so  take  care  of  your  ears." 

"  If  your  majesty  will  have  the  kindness 
to  point  out  where  you  wish  it  to  be,"  said 
Thumbkin,  "  I  will  try  once  more  to  give 
you  satisfaction." 

Every  body  repaired  to  the  courtyard  of 
the  palace,  where  the  king  took  his  seat,  with 
the  princess  at  his  side,.  The  latter  began 
to  regard  rather  anxiously  the  insignificant 


little  husband  who  seemed  in  store  for  her, 
and  who  was  so  unlike  the  tall  and  gallant 
knight  she  had  seen  in  her  dreams. 

Thumbkin  quietly  drew  the  enchanted  pick- 
ax out  of  his  wallet,  and,  fixing  it  on  the 
handle,  placed  it  on  the  ground  at  the  spot  in- 
dicated. 

"  Pick  away  !  pick  away  !  "  he  cried. 

Immediately  the  pickax  made  the  granite  fly 
in  all  directions,  and  in  less  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  it  had  dug  a  well  more  than  a  hundred 
feet  deep. 

"  Does  your  majesty,"  said  Thumbkin,  "con- 
sider the  well  deep  enough  ?  " 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  answered  the  king  ;  "  but 
there  is  no  water  yet" 


i8 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  If  your  majesty  will  grant   me    one    minute,"    replied   Thumbkin,    "  your 
just  impatience  shall  be  satisfied." 

Whereupon  he  took  the  walnut-shell  wrapped  in  moss  out  of  his  wallet,  and 

placed  it  in  a  great  stone  basin, 
where,  for  lack  of  water,  flowers  had 
been  planted.  Having  fixed  the 
nut-shell  firmly  in  the  earth,  "  Spout 
away  !  spout  away !  "  he  cried. 

Immediately  the  water  gushed  up 
out  of  the  midst  of  the  flowers  with 
a  gentle  murmur,  and  fell  again  in  a 
sparkling  shower,  spreading  such 
coolness  around  that  the  courtiers 
almost  caught  cold ;  and  it  flowed 
in  such  great  abundance  that  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  the  well  was 
filled,  and  it  was  necessary  to  dig  a 
conduit  in  great  haste  to  carry  off 
the  threatening  overflow. 

"  Sire,"  said  Thumbkin,  as  he 
knelt  on  one  knee  before  the  royal 
foot-stool,  "  does  your  majesty  con- 
sider that  I  have  fulfilled  your  con- 
ditions?" 

"Yes,  Marquis,"  replied  the  king ; 
"  I  am  ready  to  give  you  half  my 

kingdom,  or  to  pay  you  the  equivalent  in  money  by  means 
of  a  tax,  to  which  my  faithful  subjects  will  only  be  too 
happy  to  submit ;  but  to  give  you  my  daughter,  and  to  call 
you  son-in-law,  is  another  matter — for  that  does  not  depend 
upon  myself  alone." 

"  What  must  I  do  ?  "  demanded  Thumbkin,  proudly,  with 
his  arms  akimbo,  as  he  gazed  at  the  princess. 

"  You  shall  know  to-morrow,"  answered  the  king ;  "  in  the 
meantime  you  are  my  guest,  and  the  finest  chamber  in  the 
palace  will  be  prepared  for  you." 

The  king  retired,  and  Thumbkin  hastened  to  his  two  brothers,  who,  with  their 
close-cropped  ears,  looked  like  terriers. 


Tkumbkin.  19 

"  Oh,  brothers !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  you  see  I  was  right  to  be  surprised  at  every- 
thing, and  to  seek  to  find  out  the  reason  of  it  all." 

"  It  was  all  luck,"  replied  Paul,  coldly  ;  "  fortune  is  blind,  and  does  not  always 


favor  the  most  worthy." 

"  You  have  done  very  well,  my  boy,"  said  Peter.     "  With  or  without  ears,  I 
am  delighted  at  your  good  fortune,  and  I  only  wish  our  father  were  here." 


2O  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

Thumbkin  carried  his  two  brothers  off  with  him,  and  as  he  was  in   favor  at 
court  a  chamberlain  found  employment  for  them  at  once  in  the  castle. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WHEN  the  king  returned  to  his  apartments  he  could  not  sleep.    A  son-in-law 
like  Thumbkin  was  not  at  all  to  his  taste,  and  he  tried  to  think  how  he 

could  avoid  keeping 
his  promise  and  yet 
not  appear  to  break 
his  word.  For  an 
honest  person  this 
would  have  been  diffi- 
cult to  manage,  but  a 
knave  never  hesitates 
to  sacrifice  his  honor 
rather  than  his  inter- 
est when  both  are  at 
stake. 

In  his  trouble  the 
king  sent  for  Peter 
and  Paul,  for  they 
alone  could  tell  him 
the  parentage,  char- 
acter, and  habits  of  Thumbkin.  Peter  praised  his  little  brother,  which  fact  did 
not  much  please  his  majesty;  but  Paul  put  the  king  in  a  better  humor  by  proving 
to  him  that  Thumbkin  was  only  an  adventurer,  and  that  it  was  ridiculous  for  a 
great  king  to  consider  himself  under  any  obligation  to  a  peasant. 

"  The  boy  is  vain,"  added  the  wicked  brother.  "  He  thinks  himself  big  enough 
to  face  a  giant.  Now  there  lives  a  troll  *  near  here  who  is  the  terror  of  the 
neighborhood,  and  who  carries  off  the  cattle  for  ten  leagues  round  ;  Thumbkin 
has  often  said  that  if  he  chose  he  could  make  this  monster  his  servant." 

1  Amongst  the  Scandinavians  trolls  are  giants  inhabiting  the  lakes  and  forests.  Probably  our  word 
"  droll  "  is  derived  from  "  troll,"  the  original  meaning  of  the  word  having  gradually  altered  in  the  course 
of  time. 


Thumbkin. 


21 


"  That  we  shall  see,"  said  the  king ;  and,  dismissing  the  two  brothers,  he  slept 
peacefully. 

The  next  day,  in  the  presence  of  all  his  court,  he  sent  for  Thumbkin,  who 
came  looking  as  fair  as  a  lily,  as  fresh  as  a  rose,  and  as  smiling  as  the  morn. 

"  My  son-in-law,"  said  the  king,  lingering  on  the  words,  "  a  fine  fellow  like  you 
cannot  wed  the  princess  without  giving  her  a 
house  worthy  of  her.  Now  in  these  woods 
lives  a  troll  who  is  twenty  feet  high,  it  is  said, 
and  who  eats  an  ox  every  morning  for  his 
breakfast.  With  a  laced  coat,  a  three-cornered 
hat,  gold  epaulettes,  and  a  halberd  of  fifteen 
feet  high,  he  would  make  a  porter  fit  for  a 
king's  palace.  My  daughter  begs  you  to  make 
her  this  little  present,  after  which  she  will  see 
about  giving  you  her  hand." 

"  It  is  not  an  easy  thing  you  ask  of  me,"  said 
Thumbkin;  "  but  to  please  your  majesty  I  will 
do  my  best." 

He  went  down  to  the  buttery,  where  he  put 
the  enchanted  ax,  together  with  a  loaf,  a  piece 
of  cheese,  and  a  knife,  into  his  big  leathern 
wallet ;  then  throwing  it  over  his  shoulder  he 
started  for  the  woods.  Peter  wept,  whilst  Paul 
smiled  and  congratulated  himself  that  once 
away  his  brother  would  never  return. 

When  Thumbkin  entered  the  forest  he  looked 
to  right  and  left,  but  the  grasses  prevented  his 
seeing  any  thing  ;  then  he  began  to  sing  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"  Here  I  am  !  "  cried  the  giant,  with  a  terrible  growl.  "  Here  I  am  !  Wait  a 
bit ;  I  shall  eat  you  up  at  a  mouthful." 

"  Do  not  hurry  yourself,  old  fellow,"  answered  Thumbkin  in  his  little  sharp 
voice  ;  "  I  can  spare  you  an  hour." 

When  the  troll  reached  Thumbkin  he  turned  his  head  on  every  side,  and  was 
much  astonished  not  to  see  any  one ;  at  last,  casting  down  his  eyes,  he  espied 
a  boy  seated  on  a  felled  tree,  holding  a  big  leathern  wallet  between  his  knees. 

"  Was  it  you  that  waked  me  out  of  my  nap,  you  young  rascal  ?  "  said  he,  rolling 
his  flaming  eyes. 


22 


Laboufayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Even  so,  my  fine  fellow,"  replied  Thumbkin.  "  I  am  come  to  engage  you  as 
my  servant." 

"  Ha !  ha !  "  roared  the  giant,  who  was  as  stupid  as  he  was  tall.  "  You  make 
me  laugh.  I  am  going  to  toss  you  into  a  crow's  nest  that  I  see  up  there,  and 
that  will  teach  you  not  to  ramble  through  my  forest." 

"  Your  forest !  "  re- 
plied the  lad  ;  "  it  is 
more  mine  than 
yours.  If  you  say  a 
word,  I  will  fell  it  to 
the  ground  in  a  mo- 
ment." 

"Ha!  ha!  "said  the 
giant,  "  I  should  like 
to  see  you  do  it,  my 
pretty  fellow." 

Thumbkin  placed 
the  ax  on  the  ground 
and  cried,  "  Hew 
away  !  hew  away  ! " 

Immediately  the  ax 
cut  and  lopped  and 
hewed  away,  felling 
down  the  trees  right 
and  left,  whilst  the 
branches  rattled  down  upon  the  troll's  head  as  thick  as  hailstones. 

"  Enough  !  enough  ! "  said  the  giant,  who  was  beginning  to  be  frightened. 
"  Do  not  destroy  my  forest.  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  famous  magician,  Thumbkin,  and  if  I  only  say  the  word  my  ax  will 
cut  off  your  head.  You  do  not  yet  know  the  man  with  whom  you  have  to  deal. 
Remain  where  you  are." 

The  giant  stopped  short,  much  perplexed  by  what  he  had  seen.  Thumbkin, 
who  was  hungry,  opened  his  leathern  wallet  and  took  out  his  bread  and 
cheese. 

"  What  is  that  white  stuff  ?  "  inquired  the  troll,  who  had  never  seen  cheese  before, 
"  It  is  stone,"  replied  Thumbkin,  showing  all  his  teeth  as  he  bit  it." 
"  Can  you  eat  stone  ?  "  said  the  giant. 


Thumbkin.  23 

"  Yes,  it  is  my  usual  food,  and  that  is  why  I  do  not  grow  as  you  do  who  eat 
oxen  ;  but,  small  as  1  am,  I  am  ten  times  stronger  than  you  are.  Lead  me  to 
your  house." 


The  troll  was  conquered.     He  walked  in  front  of  Thumbkin  like  a  big  dog 
before  a  child,  and  brought  him  to  his  immense  hut. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  said  Thumbkin.     "  One  of  us  two  must  be  the  master  and  the 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


other  the  servant.     Let  us  make  a  bargain.     If  I  cannot  do  what  you  can,  I  will 
be  your  slave  ;  and  if  you  cannot  do  what  I  can,  you  shall  be  mine." 

"  Agreed,"  said  the  troll.  "  I  should  like  to  have  a  clever  little  fellow  like  you 
for  my  servant.  Thinking  tires  me,  and  you  are  far  sharper  than  I  am.  To 
begin  with,  here  are  my  two  buckets,  go  and  fetch  some  water  for  the  broth." 

Thumbkin     raised     his    head    and 
i —          ~:^^^^^^L,^^^:^^=a^^  1      looked  at  the  buckets  ;  they  were  two 

-  ifpC  V\^?llk    enormous  tuns>  each  ten  feet  hi§h 

\tf(^^^^^^\K^^^^      and  six  feet  across,  which  he  was  more 
likely  to  drown  himself  in  than  to  move. 
"  Ha !  ha  ! "  roared  the  giant ;  "  you 
are  already  in  a  fix.     My  son,  do  as  I 
do,  and  go  and  fetch  the  water." 

"  What  is  the  good?  "  said  Thumb- 
kin.  "  I  can  run  and  fetch  the  spring 
itself  and  throw  it  into  the  pot,  which 
will  take  less  time." 

"  No.  no,"  exclaimed  the  troll ; 
"  you  have  already  spoiled  my  forest,  I 
will  not  let  you  take  away  my  spring. 
Make  up  the  fire  whilst  I  go  and  fetch 
the  water." 

As  soon  as  the  pot  was  hung  up, 
the  giant  threw  into  it  an  ox  cut  up 
in  pieces,  and  a  cart-load  of  cabbages 
and  carrots.  He  skimmed  the  broth 
with  a  frying  pan  and  tasted  it  more 
than  once. 

"  Now  to  table,"  he  said  ;  "  we  shall  see  if  you  can  do  as  I  do.  For  my  part, 
I  feel  in  the  humor  to  eat  an  ox  whole,  and  you  into  the  bargain.  You  will  do 
for  my  dessert." 

"  To  table,  then,"  said  Thumbkin ;  but  before  sitting  down  he  slipped  under 
his  doublet  his  great  leathern  wallet,  which  reached  from  his  neck  to  his  feet. 

"  At  dinner  the  troll  ate  voraciously,  and  Thumbkin  did  not  do  badly  either ; 
but  it  was  into  his  bag  that  he  kept  ladling  the  meat  and  cabbages  and  carrots. 

"  Ugh  ! "  said  the  giant,  "  I  cannot  eat  any  more.  I  am  going  to  undo  a 
button  of  my  waistcoat." 


Thumbkin. 


"  You  are  not  eating  much,"  cried  Thumbkin,  stuffing  half  a  cabbage  undef" 
his  chin. 

"  Ugh !  "  said  the  giant,  "  I  must  undo  another  button.     You  must  have  the 
digestion  of  an  ostrich,  my  son.    I  can  easily  see  you  are  accustomed  to  eat  stones." 

"You  do  not  half  eat,  lazybones! "  cried  Thumbkin,  stuffing  a  great  piece  of 
beef  under  his  chin. 

"  Ugh  !  "  groaned  the  giant,  "  I  must  undo  a  third  button.     I  feel  suffocated. 
How  are  you  getting  on,  magician?  " 

"  Pooh  !  "  replied  Thumbkin,  "  nothing  easier  than  to  get  a  little  air."     And 
taking  his  knife  he  ripped  up  his  doublet  and  his 
wallet. 

"  Now  it  is  your  turn,"  he  said  ;  "do  as  I  do." 

"  I  am  your  humble  servant,"  answered  the  troll. 
*'  I  prefer  to  submit  to  your  orders,  for  I  cannot 
digest  cold  steel." 

Forthwith  the  giant  kissed  Thumbkin's  hand  in 
token  of  submission;  then  lifting  his  little  master 
on  one  shoulder  and  a  big  sack  of  gold  on  the 
other,  he  marched  off  to  the  palace. 


CHAPTER  V. 

was  a  banquet  taking  place  at  the 
-*-  castle,  and  nobody  was  thinking  of  Thumbkin 
any  more  than  if  the  giant  had  eaten  him  up  a 
week  before,  when  suddenly  a  frightful  noise  was 
heard  outside  and  the  castle  shook  to  its  founda- 
tions. It  was  the  troll,  who  finding  the  great 
gate  too  low  for  him,  had  kicked  it  down. 

Every  body  ran  to  the  window,  the  king  among  the  rest,  and  there  they  saw 
Thumbkin  quietly  seated  on  the  shoulder  of  his  terrible  servant. 

Our  hero  stepped  upon  the  first-floor  balcony,  and  bending  on  one  knee  before 
his  betrothed,  said — 

"  Princess,  you  wished  for  one  slave,  and  here  are  two." 

This  gallant  speech  was  inserted  the  next  day  in  the  Court  Gazette,  but  at 


26 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


the  moment  when  it  was  uttered  it  rather  embarrassed  the  king.     He  did  not 

know  what  to  answer,  and  drawing  the  princess  aside,  he  said — 

"  My  daughter,  there  is  no  longer  any  reason  why  I  should  refuse  your  hand  to 

this  valiant  young  man  ;  sacrifice  yourself 
for  my  sake.  Princesses  do  not  marry  to 
please  themselves." 

"  Permit  me  to  say,  my  father,"  returned 
the  princess,  making  a  courtesy,  "  that,  prin- 
cess or  not,  every  girl  likes  to  marry  ac- 
cording to  her  own  fancy.  Let  me  defend 
my  rights  my  own  way.  Thumbkin,"  she 
added,  raising  her  voice,  "you  are  brave 
and  lucky,  but  that  alone  is  not  sufficient 
to  win  a  lady's  regard." 

"  I  know  it,"  answered  Thumbkin,  "  for 
over  and  above  that,  one  must  obey  her 
slightest  wish  and  humor  all  her  caprices." 
"  You  have  plenty  of  wit,"  replied  the 
princess,  "  and  since  you  are  so  good  at 
guessing  riddles,  I  propose  a  final  trial, 
which  you  ought  not  to  fear,  as  you  will 
only  have  me  for  an  antagonist.  Let  us 
enter  the  lists  to  see  who  is  the  cleverer. 
My  hand  shall  be  the  prize  in  the  con- 
test." 

Thumbkin  made  a  profound  bow,  and 
all  the  court  repaired  to  the  throne-room, 
where,  to  the  general  alarm,  they  found 
the  troll  seated  on  the  ground.  The 
throne-room  was  only  fifteen  feet  high,  so 
the  poor  giant  could  not  stand  upright, 
but  at  a  sign  from  his  young  master  he 
came  on  his  hands  and  knees  to  his  side, 
proud  and  happy  to  obey  him. 
"  Let  us  begin,"  said  the  princess,  "  with  a  game.  People  say  that  women  are 

not  afraid  of  telling  lies.     Let  us  see  which  of  us  two  can  tell  the  better  lies, 

but  the  first  who  says  '  That  is  too  bad,'  will  be  the  loser." 


Thumb  kin. 


"  Whether  to  tell  fibs  in  fun,  or  to  speak  the  truth  in  earnest,"  answered 
Thumbkin,  "  I  am  always  at  the  orders  of  your  royal  highness." 

"  I  am  sure,"  began  the  princess,  "  that  you  have  not  such  a  fine  large  farm  as 
we  have.  When  two  shepherds  blow  their  horns  at  the  opposite  ends  of  our 
fields  they  cannot  hear  each  other." 

"  What  of  that  ?  "  said  Thumbkin,  "  my  father's  estate  is  such  a  size  that  if  a 
heifer  of  two  months  old  goes  in  at  one  entrance,  though  she  walks  straight  on 
without  stopping,  she  goes  out  at  the  other  a  full  grown  milch  cow." 

"  That  does  not  surprise  me,"  replied  the  princess ;  "  but  your  bull  is  not  so 
big  as  ours.  If  a  man  sits  upon  each  of  his  horns,  the  two  men  cannot  touch 
each  other  with  a  goad  twenty  feet  long." 

"  What  of  that,"  said  Thumbkin,  "  my  father's  bull  has  such  a  large  head  that 
a  farm-servant  seated  on 
one  of  his  horns  cannot 
even      see     a     servant 
perched  on  the  other." 

"  That  does  not  sur- 
prise me,"  said  the  prin- 
cess ;  "  but  you  have 
not  as  much  milk  as  we 
have,  for  every  day  we 
fill  twenty  great  tuns 
which  are  each  a  hun- 
dred feet  high,  and  every 
week  we  make  a  moun- 
tain of  cheese  which  is  every  bit  as  high  as  the  great  Egyptian  pyramid." 

"  What  of  that  ?  "  returned  Thumbkin  ;  "  in  my  father's  dairy  they  make  such 
large  cheeses  that  our  mare  having  fallen  into  the  press,  we  did  not  find  her  again 
until  after  a  voyage  of  seven  days  ;  and  the  poor  animal  had  broken  its  back  ;  in 
order  to  be  able  to  use  it  still,  I  was  obliged  to  replace  its  backbone  by  a  great  pine 
trunk,  which  answered  the  purpose  capitally.  One  fine  morning  a  branch 
sprouted  out  of  the  pine  tree,  and  grew  to  such  a  height,  that  in  climbing  up  it 
I  reached  the  sky.  There  I  saw  a  lady  in  white,  who  was  spinning  the  foam  of  the 
sea  to  make  a  cobweb.  I  wished  to  lay  hold  of  it,  when  snap  it  went ;  the  thread 
broke,  and  I  fell  into  a  mouse's  hole.  Who  should  I  see  there  but  your  father 
and  my  mother,  who  were  each  twirling  distaffs,  and  as  your  father  was  clumsy, 
my  mother  gave  him  such  a  box  on  the  ears  that  it  made  his  mustache  tremble." 


28  Laboiilayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  That  is  too  bad/"  exclaimed  the  princess  in  a  passion.  "  My  father  has  never 
subjected  himself  to  such  an  indignity." 

"  She  has  said  '  That  is  too  bad/  master/  "  exclaimed  the  giant,  "  the  princess 
is  ours." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

*  *  XT  OT  yet,"  said  the  princess  blushing.  "  Thumbkin,  I  have  three  riddles 
1  N  to  ask  you  ;  guess  them,  and  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  but  obey  my 
father.  Tell  me  what  is  always  falling  and  yet  is  never  broken  ?  " 

"Ah!"  said  Thumbkin,  "my  mother  taught  me  that  long  ago.  It  is  a 
waterfall." 

"  That  is  very  good,"  cried  the  giant ;  "  who  could  have  guessed  that  ?  " 

"  Tell  me,"  continued 
the  princess,  in  a  voice 
broken  with  emotion, 
"what  is  that  which 
every  day  makes  the 
same  journey  and  yet 
never  retraces  his 
steps?  " 

"  Ah !"  replied  Thumb- 
kin,  "  I  learned  that  in  the  nursery;  it  is  the  sun/' 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  princess,  pale  with  anger.  "  I  have  one  more  question 
to  ask  you.  What  is  that  that  I  do  not  think  and  you  do  ?  What  is  the  thing 
we  both  of  us  think,  and  what  is  the  thing  that  neither  of  us  think?  " 

Thumbkin  looked  down  and  reflected  about  his  answer.  He  was  puzzled  at 
last. 

"  Master,"  said  the  troll,  "  if  the  thing  is  too  difficult,  do  not  rack  your  brains ; 
only  give  me  a  sign,  and  I  will  carry  off  the  princess  in  a  minute." 

"  Be  silent,  slave,"  returned  Thumbkin ;  "  strength  can  do  nothing,  my  poor 
friend  ;  you  ought  to  know  that  by  this  time.  Leave  me  to  try  another  way. 
Madam,"  said  he,  breaking  a  profound  silence,  "  I  hardly  dare  guess,  and  yet  in 
this  riddle  I  fancy  I  have  a  glimpse  of  my  happiness.  I  had  dared  to  think  that 
your  words  would  be  all  clear  to  me,  but  you  were  right  in  thinking  the  contrary. 
You  are  good  enough  to  think  I  am  not  unworthy  of  your  favor,  but  I  am  not 


Thumbkin. 


29 


bold  enough  to  think  so.  Finally,"  he  added,  smiling,  "  what  we  both  think  is, 
that  there  are  more  stupid  people  in  the  world  than  we  are,  and  what  we  neither 
of  us  think  is  that  the  king,  your  august  father,  and  this  troll  have  as  much " 

"  Silence,"  said  the  princess,  "  here  is  my  hand." 

"What  was  it  you 
thought  about  me  ? " 
cried  the  king.  "  I 
should  be  glad  to 
know." 

"  Dear  father,"  an- 
swered the  princess, 
throwing  her  arms 
round  his  neck,  "  we 
think  that  you  are  the 
wisest  of  kings  and  the 
best  of  men." 

"  Well,  I  knew  that 
before,"  said  the  king. 
"  Meanwhile  something 
must  be  done  for  my 
faithful  subjects. 
Thumbkin,  I  present 
you  with  a  dukedom." 

"  Long  live  Duke 
Thumbkin!  Long  live 
my  master  1 "  cried  the 
giant  in  such  a  voice, 
that  it  was  as  if  a 
thunderbolt  had  fallen 
on  the  house.  Happily 
there  was  no  harm  done 
beyond  the  fright,  and 
the  breakage  of  a  dozen 
panes  of  glass. 


3O  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IT  is  unnecessary  to  describe  the  wedding  of  the  princess  and  Thumbkin,  fof 
all  weddings  are  much  alike.  Nevertheless  it  may  be  mentioned  that  the 
presence  of  the  troll  added  much  to  the  festivities.  Thus  on  returning  from 
church,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  joy,  the  faithful  giant  could  do  nothing  better  to 
express  his  feelings  than  to  put  the  wedding  coach  upon  his  head,  and  so  convey 
the  newly-married  couple  to  the  palace,  which  was  rather  alarming  for  the  bride, 
and  a  sight  not  to  be  seen  every  day. 

In  the  evening  there  were  universal  rejoicings.  Banquets,  epithalamiums,  illu- 
minations, and  fireworks  gave  vent  to  the  public  enthusiasm. 

In  the  castle  every  one  laughed,  sang,  danced,  and  enjoyed  themselves  with  one 
exception,  and  that  wras  Paul,  who  hid  himself  in  a  corner  and  kept  aloof  from 
the  happy  crowd.  He  thought  himself  lucky  in  having  had  his  ears  cut  off  so 
that  he  could  not  hear  his  brother's  praises,  and  he  only  wished  he  were  also 
blind,  so  as  not  to  see  the  happy  faces  of  the  bride  and  bridegroom.  At  last  he 
rushed  off  to  the  woods  and  was  eaten  by  bears  ;  which  is  the  fate  I  should  like 
to  befall  all  envious  people. 

Thumbkin  was  so  small  that  it  was  very  difficult  to  treat  him  with  much  respect, 
but  he  was  so  affable  and  gentle  that  he  soon  won  his  wife's  love,  and  the  affec- 
tion of  the  entire  people.  After  the  death  of  his  father-in-law  he  occupied  the 
throne  for  fifty-two  years,  beloved  and  adored  by  his  grateful  subjects,  whose 
happiness  and  well-being  were  the  object  of  his  life.  History  tells  us  that  he 
was  so  clever  that  he  always  guessed  how  best  to  assist  or  please  each  one  of  his 
subjects — besides,  he  was  so  kind-hearted  that  the  pleasure  of  others  was  his 
greatest  happiness. 

But  why  praise  his  goodness  ?  Is  it  not  the  distinguishing  trait  of  sensible 
people.  Whatever  some  may  say,  there  are  no  good  fools  here  below ;  when 
people  are  fools,  they  are  not  good,  and  when  people  are  good  they  are  no  fools, 
take  my  word  for  it.  If  all  fools  are  not  wicked — which  I  doubt — all  the  wicked 
are  fools,  and  this  is  the  moral  of  my  story,  and  it  is  a  more  worthy  moral  than 
a  great  many  others. 


THE  GOOD  WOMAN. 


A  NORWEGIAN  STORY. 


BEING  unable  to  sleep  the  other  night,  I  took  up  Montaigne,  who  is  my  usual 
companion  on  wakeful  nights,  and  the  only  moralist  that  one  reads  with 
pleasure  when  past  forty.  Opening  the  Essays  at  random,  for  every  page  is 
interesting  and  full  of  food  for  thought,  I  chanced  to  light  upon  a  chapter  headed 
"Concerning  Three  Good  Women."  It  began  thus:  "They  are  not  to  be 
counted  by  dozens,  as  every  one  knows,  and  they  are  especially  rare  in  the  married 
state,  for  marriage  is  so  thorny  a  path  that  is  difficult  for  a  woman  to  follow  it 
long  with  success." 

"  Montaigne  is  absurd  !  "  I  cried,  shutting  up  the  book.  "What  !  this  student 
of  the  classics — this  master  of  the  workings  of  the  human  heart — has  only  been 
able  to  discover  three  good  women,  only  three  devoted  wives,  in  all  the  annals 
of  Greece  and  Rome.  This  is  ill-natured  sarcasm.  Goodness  is  the  attribute  of 
womankind,  and  every  married  woman  is  good,  or  is  supposed  to  be  so.  One 
knows,  too,  the  legal  maxim  that  the  presumption  of  the  law  is  always  in  favor 
of  the  accused." 

Whereupon  I  fetched  from  my  library  a  handsome  old  book,  bound  in  red 
morocco,  and  entitled  The  Dream  of  Vergier,  a  book  brimful  of  wisdom,  written 
by  some  venerable  scholar  in  the  reign  of  Charles  V.  of  France.  I  searched 
through  it  for  a  passage  which  had  formerly  struck  me,  but,  alas  !  as  we  grow  old, 
memory  plays  us  strange  tricks.  Instead  of  finding,  as  I  expected,  in  this 
respectable  old  folio  a  deserved  eulogium  on  the  goodness  of  woman,  to  my 
great  surprise  I  only  found  a  violent  satire,  full  of  quotations  borrowed  from  St. 
Augustine,  and  from  the  Civil  and  Canon  Law,  with  this  conclusion,  which  was 


Laboulayes  Fairy    Tales. 


worthy  of  the  exordium :  "  I  do  not  say  there  are  no  good  women,  but  they  are 
few  and  far  between,  and  therefore  the  law  should  not  trouble  itself  about  them, 
for  '  laws  should  be  framed  to  meet  circumstances  that  are  likely  to  occur,'  as  is 
laid  down  in  the  Digest." 

These  legal  epigrams,  these  cold-blooded  jests  in  a  serious  book,  shocked  me 
even  more  than  the  sneers  of  the  Gascon  philosopher.  "  Good  women,"  thought 
I,  "are  to  be  met  with  every  where.  In  history?  No;  history  is  written  by 
men  who  only  admire  and  love  heroes,  that  is  to  say,  those  who  plunder  and  kill 
or  make  slaves  of  their  fellow-men.  In  theological  works  ?  No ;  theologians 
have  never  forgiven  Eve's  daughters  for  the  sin  which  caused  the  Fall,  and  which 

still  clings  to  them. 
In  law  books?  No; 
it  is  men  who  make 
laws.  By  them  women 
are  treated  as  minors, 
and  are  declared  in- 
capable of  acting  for 
themselves,  and  still 
less  of  ruling  others. 
Heaven  knows  what  a 
difference  there  is  here 
(as  in  every  thing  else) 
between  the  fact  and 
the  law.  In  plays,  ro- 
mances and  novels? 
No ;  for  their  constant 

theme  is  the  wickedness  of  women.  Where,  then,  shall  we  search  for  good 
women?  Fiction,  the  realm  of  fancy,  and  the  ideal  world,  are  the  only  places 
where  merit  is  rewarded,  and  where  virtue  receives  its  true  reward.  Where  do 
we  find  the  tenderness  of  Baucis  and  the  long  fidelity  of  Penelope  ?  In  fable. 
Where,  too,  the  endurance  of  'Patient  Grissel'?  In  order  to  find  the  women 
that  we  seek  we  must  knock  at  the  ivory  gates." 

I  have  re-read  all  manner  of  poular  tales,  for  in  them  we  often  find  the  wisdom 
and  experience  of  a  people  most  vividly  and  naively  set  forth.  I  have  interro- 
gated all  sorts  of  story-tellers— Indian,  Persian,  Arabian,  Turkish,  Hebrew, 
Spanish,  French,  German,  English,  Dutch,  Swedish,  Norwegian,  Danish,  and 
Russian.  Into  that  ocean  of  fiction  I  plunged  like  a  bold  swimmer,  but— must 


The  Good  Woman. 


33 


I  confess  it  ? — I  have  not  been  even  so  successful  as  Montaigne,  for  I  have  only 
brought  to  the  surface  a  single  good  woman !  and  her  I  discovered  under  the 
snow  and  ice  of  a  northern  country,  among  coarse  and  uncivilized  people.  From 
Cadiz  to  Stockholm,  from  London  to  Cairo  and  Delhi,  from  Paris  to  Teheran 
and  Samarcand,  if  we  may  believe  the  tales  that  are  told,  there  are  plenty  of 
artful  girls  and  scheming  matrons  ;  but  where  does  the  good  woman  hide  herself, 
and  why  is  she  never  heard  of?  This  is  a  puzzle  which  I  beg  to  point  out  to  the 
learned,  but  which,  nevertheless,  emboldens  me  to  relate  my  story.  It  is  simple, 
and  not  very  probable;  perhaps,  too,  delicate  readers  will  declare  it  to  be 
ridiculous.  Nevertheless,  it  has  one  incontestable  merit,  it  is  unique,  and 
it  is  the  fashion  nowadays  to  value  things  chiefly  for  their  rarity. 

Here  is  the  tale  almost  exactly  as  it  is  told  by  Messrs. 
Asbjornsen  and  Moe  in  their  curious  collection  of  Nor- 
wegian Tales.  ' 

a 

i 

CHAPTER  I. 

A    GOOD    WOMAN. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  farmer  named  Gud- 
brand,  who  lived  in  a  lonely  farmhouse,  situated 
on  a  hill ;  so  he  went  by  the  name  of  "  Gudbrand  of 
the  Hill."  Now  this  farmer  had  an  excellent  wife,  as 
often  happens,  but,  what  is  very  unusual,  Gudbrand 
knew  the  value  of  such  a  treasure.  Accordingly,  the 
couple  lived  in  perfect  harmony,  rejoicing  in  their 

mutual  happiness,  and  without  anxiety  about  the  future.  Whatever  Gudbrand 
did,  his  wife  had  thought  of  and  wished  for  beforehand,  so  much  so  that  her 
husband  could  do  nothing  without  his  partner  thanking  him  for  having  divined 
and  forestalled  her  wishes. 

Their  life  besides  was  an  easy  one ;  the  farm  was  their  own,  and  they  had  a 
hundred  crowns  in  the  dresser,  and  two  fine  cows  in  the  byre.  They  wanted  for 
nothing,  and  could  grow  old  peacefully,  without  needing  assistance  from  any  one. 


1  These  tales  have  been  translated  into  English  by  Dasent :    Papula*    Tales  from  the  Norse,     Edin- 
burgh, 1859. 


34 


Laboiilayes  Fairy   Tales. 


One  evening  as  they  were  conversing  together  about  their  work  and  their  proj- 
ects, the  wife  said  to  her  husband — 

"  My  love,  I  think  you  ought  to  take  one  of  the  cows  and  sell  it  in  the  town. 

The  one  we  keep  will 
give  us  sufficient  milk 
and  butter,  and  why 
need  we  wish  for 
more  ?  We  have  no 
children.  Had  we 
not  better  spare  our- 
selves all  extra  work 
now  we  are  growing 
old?  You  will  al- 
ways find  plenty  of 
furniture  and  tools  to 
repair,  and  I  shall 
have  more  time  to  sit 
beside  you  with  my 
distaff." 

Gudbrand  agreed 
with  his  wife,  as  he 
always  did,  and  the 
very  next  day  he 
went  to  the  town 
with  the  cow  he  in- 
tended to  sell ;  but  it 
was  not  a  market 
day,  and  he  found 
ro  purchaser. 

"Never  mind  ! " 
said  Gudbrand,  "  at 
the  worst  I  shall  have 
nothing  to  do  but 
take  my  cow  home 
again.  I  have  enough 

hay  and  litter  for  the  beast,  and  the  road  is  no  longer  one  way  than  the  other. 
Upon  which  he  quietly  retraced  his  steps  homewafd.     At  the  end  of  some 


The  Good  Woman. 


35 


tours,  when  he  was  beginning  to  feel  very  tired,  he  met  a  man  leading  a  horse 

to  the  town,  a  powerful-looking  animal,  saddled 

and  bridled. 

"  The  road  is  long,  and  the  night  is  coming 

on,"  thought  Gudbrand  ;  "  I  shall  never  get  my 

cow  home,  and  to-morrow  I  shall  have  to  take 

the  same  journey  over  again.     Now  here  is  a 

horse  which  would  suit  me  much  better,  and  I 

should  reach  home   as   fresh   as   a   lark.     How 

pleased  my  old  wife  would  be  to  see  me  come 

back  in  triumph  like  a  Roman  emperor!  " 

Whereupon  he  stopped  the  horsedealer,  and 

exchanged  his  cow  for  the  horse.     When  once 

he  was  mounted,  he  began  to  regret  his  bargain. 

Gudbrand  was  old  and  heavy,  whilst  the  horse 

was  young  and  skittish.     At  the  end  of  half  an 

hour  the  rider  was  walking  on  foot,  holding  the 

bridle  over  his  arm,  and  dragging  the  horse  after  him,  tossing  its  mane  in  the 

wind  and  shying  at  every  stone  in  the  road. 

"  This  is  a  bad  bargain,"  thought  he ;  and  at  that  moment  he  caught  sight  of 

a  peasant  driving  before  him  a  fat  pig.     "  A  nail  is  of  use-  and  is  worth  more  than 

a  diamond  which  only 
sparkles  and  is  use- 
less," said  Gudbrand ; 
"  my  wife  often  says 
so." 

He  then  exchanged 
the  horse  for  the  pig. 
It  was  a  happy  in- 
spiration, but  the  good 
man  had  reckoned 
without  his  host.  Piggy 
was  tired  and  disin- 
clined to  move.  Gud- 
brand remonstrated, 
prayed,  and  swore,  but 
all  in  vain.  He  drag:- 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


ged  the  pig  by  its  snout,  he  pushed  it  from  behind,  and  he  beat  it,  but  it  was 
labor  lost.     The  pig  lay  down  in  the  dust  like  a  vessel  stranded  in  the  mud. 
The  farmer  was  in  despair,  when  a  man  passed  him  leading  a  goat,  which  ran 
and  leaped  in  a  most  engaging  manner. 

"  That  is  what  I  want !  "  cried  Gudbrand  ;  "  that  lively 
goat  pleases  me  far  more  than  this  grunting  pig,  stupid 
beast."  So  without  more  ado  he  exchanged  the  pig 
for  the  goat. 

All  went  well  for  the  first  half-hour.     His  new  pur- 
chase dragged  Gudbrand  after  her  to  his  great  amuse- 
ment, but  when  a  man  is  no  longer  young,  he  soon 
grows   tired  of    climbing  over  rocks;  so   the    farmer 
meeting  a  shepherd  with  his  flock  had  no  hesitation  in 
bartering  his  goat  for  a  sheep. 
"  I  shall  have  as  much  milk,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  and  this  beast  at  least  will 
keep  quiet,  and  will  not  disturb  either  my  wife  or  myself." 

Gudbrand  was  right ;  nothing  could  be  more  quiet  than  the  sheep.  It  had  no 
tricks  and  never  butted,  but  it  stood  stock  still  and  baa-ed  incessantly  after  its 
companions  and  the  more  Gudbrand  dragged  it  away  the  more  pitifully  it  baa-ed. 
"  I  wish  the  stupid  beast  were  at  the  devil,"  cried  Gudbrand  ;  "  it  is  as 
obstinate  and  melancholy  as  my  neighbor's  wife.  Who  will  take  this  wretched 
bleating  sheep  of  my  hand??  I  would  be  thankful  to  be  rid  of  it  at  any  price." 

"  That  is  a  bargain,  if 
you  choose,  old  fellow," 
said  a  peasant  who  was 
passing. 

"  Take  this  fine  fat 
goose  in  exchange  for 
that  miserable  sheep 
which  is  at  death's 
door." 

"Agreed,"  said  Gud- 
brand, "  a  live  goose  is 
better  than  a  dead 
sheep ; "  so  he  carried 
off  the  goose.  This  was 
no  easy  task,  for  he 


The  Good  Woman. 


37 


found  the  bird  a  troublesome  companion.     Uncomfortable  at  no  longer  being  on 
foot,  it  fought  with  its  beak  and  claws  and  wings,  and  Gudbrand  was  soon  tired  out 

by  the  struggle. 

"  Ugh !"  said  he, 
"the  goose  is  a 
deuce  of  a  bird;  my 
wife  never  cared 
to  have  one  about 
the  house."  Upon 
which  at  the  first 

farm  he  came  to  he  exchanged  the  goose  for  a  handsome  cock,  with  fine  plumage 
and  spurs. 

This  time  he  was  satisfied.  The  cock,  it  is  true,  from  time  to  time  crowed 
with  a  voice  too  hoarse  to  please  delicate  ears,  but  as  its  feet  were  tied,  and  its 
head  hung  down,  it  resigned  itself  to  its  fate  and  kept  quiet.  The  only  trouble 
was  that  it  was  getting  late.  Gudbrand,  who  had  set  out  before  dawn,  found 
himself  in  the  evening  hungry  and  without  any  money.  He  had  a  long  road 
still  before  him,  and  feeling  faint  for  want  of  food,  he  took  an  heroic  resolve. 
At  the  first  road-side  inn  he  came  to,  he  sold  the  cock  for  half  a  crown,  and  as 
he  had  a  good  appetite,  he  spent  the  last  halfpenny  of  it  in  satisfying  his  hunger. 
"After  all,"  thought  he,  "what  use  would  a  cock  be  to  me  if  I  had  died  of 
hunger." 

As  he  drew  near  home,  the  farmer  began  to  reflect  on  the  singular  way  in  which 
his  journey  had  turned  out.  Before  going  in  doors,  he  stopped  at  the  house  of 
his  neighbor,  Peter  Graybeard,  as  he  was  called  thereabouts. 

"  Well,  gossip,"  said  Graybeard,  ''how  did  your  business  in  the  town  prosper?" 
"  So  so,"  replied  Gudbrand ;  "  I  cannot  say  I  have  been 
lucky,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  I  cannot  complain."     And  he 

related  all  that  had  hap- 
pened to  him. 

"Neighbor,"  said 
Peter,  "  you  have  done 
a  good  day's  work ;  what 
a  warm  reception  you 
will  get  from  your  wife. 
Heaven  preserve  you  !  I  would  not  be  in  your  shoes  ! " 

"  Well,"  said  Gudbrand  of  the  Hill,  "things  might  have  turned  out  worse  for 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


me,  but  at  present  I  am  quite  easy  in  my  mind.     Whether  I  was  right  or  wrong, 
my  wife  is  so  good  that  she  will  not  say  a  word  about  what  I  have  done." 

^=a^_^-  ^--=r-==Jtr-JBSS==a=r^__j  ; "  I  hear  what  you  say, 

neighbor,  and  I  envy  you; 
but,     with     all     respect, 
allow  me  to  say  that  I  do 
not  believe  a  word  of  it." 
"Will  you  bet  that   I 
am  mistaken?  "  said  Gud- 
brand.    "  I  have   a  hundred  crowns  in  the    drawer  of    my  dresser,  and  I  will 
risk  twenty.     Will  you  do  as  much  on  your  side  ?  " 
"Certainly,"  said  Peter;  "  let    us  decide  it  at  once." 

The  bargain  being  concluded,  the  two  friends  entered  Gudbrand's  house,  but 
Peter  staid  at  the  door  of  the  room  to  listen 
to  the  old  couple. 

"  Good  evening,  old  wife,"  said  Gudbrand. 
"  Good  evening,"  replied  the  good  woman. 
"  Is    it   you,  my  friend  ?      Heaven  be  praised  ! 
How  have  you    sped  ? 

"  Neither  well  nor  ill,"  answered  Gudbrand  ; 
"  when  I  reached  the  town,  I  found  nobody  to 
buy  a  cow,  so  I  exchanged  it  for  a  horse." 
"  For  a    horse ! "    said    the   wife,    "  that    is 

I  am  so  glad !  We  shall  now  be  able  to  go  to  church  in  a  cart,  and 
people  who  are  no  better  than  ourselves  need  no  longer  look 
down  upon  us.  If  we  choose  to  keep  a  horse,  I  consider  we 
have  every  right  to  do  so.  Where  is  the  horse  ?  It  must  be 
put  into  the  stable.  " 

"I    have   not   brought   it   home,"   said    Gudbrand,    "for   I 
changed  my  mind  on  the  way,  and  I  exchanged  the  horse  for  a 

Pig-" 

"Well,  now,"  said  the  wife,  "that  is  just  what    I  should 
have  done.     A  thousand  thanks !     Now,  when  my  neighbors 
come  to  see  me,  I  shall  have  some  ham  to  offer  them.     What 
do  we  want  with  a  horse  ?     People  would  say,  '  See  how  stuck  up  they  are  :  they 
are  too  proud  to   go  to   church   on   foot ! '     But  the   pig  must   be   put   into 
the   sty." 


capital ! 


The  Good  Woman. 


39 


"  I    have   not  brought  home  the   pig,"  said  Gudbrand,    "  for  on  the  road  I 
exchanged  it  for  a  goat." 

"  Well  done  !  "  said  the  good  woman.  "  What  a  thoughtful  man  you  are  1 
When  I  think  of  it,  what  should  I  have 
done  with  a  pig  ?  People  would  have 
pointed  at  us  and  said  :  '  Look  at  those 
people,  they  eat  up  all  they  gain  ' ;  but  with 
my  goat  I  shall  have  milk  and  cheese,  not 
to  mention  kids.  Be  quick  and  put  the 
goat  in  the  stable." 

"  I  have  not  brought  home  the  goat 
either,"  said  Gudbrand,  "  for  on  the  road 
home  I  exchanged  it  for  a  sheep." 

"  That  is  just  like  you,"  said  the  good  wife  ;  "  you  are  so  thoughtful  for  me, 
because  I  am  too  old  to  be  running  over  hill  and  dale  after  a  goat,  but  a 
sheeo  will  give  me  wool  and  milk.  Let  us  put  it  at  once  into  the  shed." 
"  I  have  not  brought  home  the  sheep  either,"  returned 
Gudbrand  ;  "  I  exchanged  it  on  the  way  for  a  goose." 

"  Thanks,  thanks,  with  all  my  heart !  "   said  the  good 
wife.     "  What  should  I  have  done  with  a  sheep  ?     I  have 
neither  loom  nor  spinning-wheel ;  besides  it  is  hard  work 
weaving,  and  when  that  is  done,  there  is  still  the  cutting 
out  and  sewing  to  do.     It  is  simpler  to  buy  our  clothes 
as  we  have  always  done  ;  but  a  goose — a  fat  goose — is  what 
I  have  always  wanted.     I  want  some  down  for  our  quilt, 
and  for  a  long  time  I  have  had  a  fancy  to  dine  off  roast 
goose.     You  must  shut  up  the  goose  in  the  fowl-house." 
"  I   have  not  brought  home  the  goose  either,"  said 
Gudbrand,  "  on  the  way  I  exchanged  it  for  a  cock." 

"Dearest!"  said  the  good  woman,  "you  are  wiser 
than  I.  A  cock  is  capital ;  it  is  far  better  than  a  clock 
that  has  to  be  wound  up  every  week.  A  cock  crows 
every  morning  at  four  o'clock,  and  tells  us  that  it  is  time 
to  rise.  But  what  should  we  do  with  a  goose  ?  I  do 
not  understand  cookery,  and  as  for  my  quilt,  thank 
goodness,  we  have  no  lack  of  moss  as  soft  as  down.  You  must  put  the  cock  in 
the  fowl-house." 


40  Laboidayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  I  have  not  brought  home  the  cock  either,"  said  Gudbrand,  "  for  at  sunset  I 
felt  as  hungry  as  a  hunter,  and  I  was  obliged  to  sell  the  cock  for  half  a  crown  ;  for 
if  I  had  not  done  so,  I  should  have  died  of  hunger." 

"  Heaven  be  praised  that  you  had  the  cock  to  sell,"  said  the  excellent  woman  ; 
"whatever  you  do,  Gudbrand,  is  sure  to  please  me.  What  do  you  want  of  a 
cock?  We  are  our  own  masters,  I  fancy;  no  one  can  order  us  about,  and  we 
can  stay  in  bed  as  late  as  we  please.  You  are  here,  dearest,  and  that  is  all  I  want 
to  make  me  quite  happy.  I  only  need  one  thing,  which  is  to  feel  you  near  me. " 
Thereupon,  Gudbrand  opened  the  door,  and  cried  out — 
"  Well,  neighbor  Peter,  what  do  you  say  to  that  ?  Go 
home  and  fetch  your  twenty  crowns  !  " 

He  then  kissed  his  old  wife  on  both  cheeks  with  as  much 
pleasure  and  more  tenderness  than  if  she  had  been  still 
twenty. 


T 


CHAPTER  II. 

'HE  story  docs  not  finish  there. 
Every  medal  has  its  reverse. 
The  daylight  would  not  appear  so 
sweet  if  it  were  not  followed  by  the 
night  ;  however  perfect  and  good  some 
women  may  be,  there  are  others  who 
are  not  so  amiable  as  Gudbrand's  wife. 
Need  I  say  the  fault  lies  with  the  hus- 
band? If  he  always  gave  way,  would 

his   wife   ever   vex  him  ?     "  Give  way  indeed ! "     I  hear  some  gentlemen  say. 

Yes,  assuredly,  and  if  you  do  not,  listen  to  what  is  in  store  for  you. 

THE  STORY  OF  NEIGHBOR  PETER  WHO  WAS  DETERMINED  To   RULE  IN 

His  OWN  HOUSE. 

Peter  Graybeard  did  not  at  all  resemble  his  neighbor  Gudbrand.  He  was  un- 
genial,  imperious,  and  hot-tempered,  and  had  no  more  patience  than  a  dog  whose 
bone  has  been  taken  away,  or  than  a  cat  that  is  being  strangled.  He  would  have 
been  insufferable,  had  not  Heaven  in  its  mercy  given  him  a  wife  worthy  of  him. 


The  Good  Woman,  41 

She  was  self-willed,  peevish,  and  nagging  ;  always  silent  when  her  husband  said 
nothing,  and  ready  to  find  fault  as  soon  as  he  opened  his  mouth.     It  was  a  great 
piece  of  good  fortune  for  Peter  to  possess  such  a  treasure,  for  if  it  had  • 
for  his  wife,  he  would 
never  have  learned  the 
great    lesson  —  that 
patience  and  meekness 
are  the  first  of  virtues. 

One  day,  in  hay-mak- 
ing time,  when  he  came 
home,  after  fifteen 
hours'  hard  work,  in  a 
worse  temper  than 
usual,  he  called  for  his 
supper,  and  on  being 
told  it  was  not  yet 
ready,  he  began  swear- 
ing and  raving  at  wives 
and  their  laziness. 

"  Good  gracious, 
Peter,"  said  his  wife ; 
"  it  is  very  easy  for  you 
to  talk.  Would  you 
like  us  to  change  places  ? 
To-morrow  I  will  go 
and  make  hay  instead 
of  you,  and  you  shall 
do  the  house-work  for 
me.  We  shall  then  see 
which  of  us  two  has  the 
hardest  work  and  which 
gets  through  it  best." 

"  That  is  a  bargain !  " 
exclaimed  Peter.  "You 

must  learn  by  experience  once  for  all  what  we  poor  husbands  have  to  suffer,  and 
that  will  teach  you  more  respect — a  lesson  which  you  stand  much  in  need  of.' 

On  the  morrow  at  dayb  eak  the  wife  set  off  with  a  rake  over  her  shoulder  and 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


a  sickle  at  her  side,  pleased  with  a  prospect  of  a  day  in  the  open  air,  and  singing 
at  the  top  of  her  voice. 

Peter  Graybeard  was  a  little  surprised  to  find  himself  alone  in  the  house ;  but 
he  was  anxious  not  to  prove  himself  mistaken ;  so 
he  set  to  work  to  churn  the  butter,  as  if  he  had 
never  done  any  thing  else  in  his  life. 

It  is  warm  work  trying  one's  hand  at  a  new  trade, 
and  Peter  soon  found  his  throat  very  dry,  and  went 
down  to  the  cellar  to  draw  some  beer  from  the  cask. 
He  had  just  taken  out  the  bung,  and  was  about  to> 
put  in  the  tap,  when  he  heard  grunts  overheard. 
The  pig  was  loose  in  the  kitchen. 

• "  My  butter  will  be  spoiled  ! "  cried  Graybeard  as 
he  mounted  the  stairs  four  at  a  time,  holding  the 
tap  in  his  hand.  What  a  sight  met  his  view?  The 
churn  was  upset,  the  cream  all  spilled  upon  the  floor, 
and  the  pig  was  disporting  himself  in  the  midst. 

A  wiser  man  than  Peter  might  have  lost  patience. 
He  threw  himself  on  the  intruder,  who  rushed  away- 
grunting,  but  Peter  prevented  its  escape,  and  struck 
it  such  a  well-directed  blow  on  the  head  with  the 
tap  that  it  fell  down  dead  on  the  spot. 

When  he  d  r  e  w 
back,  his  weapon  all 
stained  with  blood, 
Peter  remembered 
that  he  had  not 
stopped  the  bung- 
hole  of  the  cask,  ami 
that  the  beer  was 
still  running  ;  so  he 
rushed  to  the  cellar. 
However,  the  beer 
was  no  longer  run- 
ning, but  only  be- 
cause there  was  not  a  drop  left  in  the  cask. 

He  had  now  to  begin  his  work    over  again  and   churn  the  butter.     Pctef 


The  Good  Woman. 


43 


returned  to  the  dairy,  where  there  was  still  enough  cream  to  repair  the  accident, 

and  he  set  to  work  to  churn  his  hardest. 

Whilst  he  was  churning,  he  remembered,  though  it  was  rather  too  late  to  do 

so,  that  the  cow  was  still  in  the 

cowshed,  and  that  she  had  had  noth- 
ing to  eat  or  drink,  though  by  this 

time    the    sun    was    high    in    the 

heavens.       Accordingly,    he    was 

about  to  run  to  the  cowshed,  but 

experience  had  made  him  careful, 

and  he  said  to  himself — 

"  There  is  my  youngster  rolling 

on    the    ground  ;    if    I   leave  the 

churn,  the  greedy  boy  will  be  sure 

to  upset  it,  and  an  accident  soon 

happens."     So  he  slung  the  churn  at  his  back  and  went 
to  draw  water  for  the  cow. 

The  well  was  deep,  and  the  bucket  took  a  long  time 
in  descending;  so  Peter,  who  was  growing  impatient, 
leaned  upon  the  cord  to  hasten  the 
process,  when  souse  went  the  milk 
over  his  head  out  of  the  churn  as 
it  poured  into  the  well. 

"  I  shall  certainly  have  no  butter 
to-day,"  said  Peter :  "  I  must  see 
after  the  cow.  It  is  too  late  now 
to  take  it  to  the  field,  but  there  is 
a  good  crop  of  grass  on  the  thatch 
of  our  house,  and  the  beast  will 
lose  nothing  by  staying  at  home." 
When  he  had  taken  the  cow  out 

of  the  shed,  he  found  no  difficulty  in  making  it  mount  upon 

the  roof.     The  house  was  built  in  a  hollow,  and  its  roof  being 

nearly  on  a  level  with  the  adjacent  slope,  Peter  threw  a  broad 

plank   across    between,   and    so    installed   the   cow   on    its    elevated    pasture. 
Peter  could  not  stay  on  the  roof  to  watch  the  animal,  for  he  had  to  make  the 

soup  and  carry  it  to  the  haymakers,  but  he  had  become  careful  now,  and  would 


44 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


"  In  this  way,"  he  thought, 


not  risk  the  cow  breaking  its  bones ;  so  tying  round  its  neck  a  cord,  which  he 
passed  down  the  kitchen  chimney,  he  went  in-doors  and  ingeniously  tied  the  end 
of  the  cord  round  his  own  leg. 

I  am  quite   sure  the  animal  cannot  get   into 
mischief." 

He  then  filled  the  great  pot  with 
meat,  vegetables,  and  water,  and  lighted 
the  fire,  when  all  of  a  sudden  the  cow 
slipped  off  the  roof,  and  drew  poor 
Peter  up  the  chimney,  with  his  head 
downwards  and  his  feet  in  the  air. 

What  would  have  become  of  him  it  is  impossible  to  say,  if  by  good  fortune  a 
great  iron  bar  had  not  arrested  his  further  progress ;  and  there  they  both  hung 
suspended  between  heaven  and  earth,  uttering  frightful  cries. 

Luckily  the  housewife  was  not  more  patient  than  her  husband.  When  she 
had  waited  three  minutes  to  see  if  her  dinner  was  being  brought  at  the  proper 
time,  she  ran  home  as  though  intending  to  set  the  house  on  fire.  Catching  sight  of 
the  cow  hanging  from  the  roof,  she  took  her  sickle  and 
cut  the  cord,  to  the  great  relief  of  the  poor  beast,  who 
was  delighted  to  find  itself  once  more  on  terra  firma. 
It  was  no  less  fortunate  for 
Peter  too,  who  was  not  ac- 
customed to  gaze  at  the 
sky  with  his  feet  in  the  air. 
Down  he  fell  into  the  soup 
head  foremost ;  but  fortune 
favored  him  that  day,  the 
fire  had  not  burned  up,  and 

the  water  was  cold,  so  that  Graybeard  escaped  with  only 
a  cut  on  his  forehead,  and  the  skin  taken  off  his  nose. 
Fortunately,  nothing  was  broken  but  the  pot.  When 
his  wife  entered  the  kitchen  and  found  her  husband 
dripping  wet,  and  with  blood  flowing  from  the  wound 
on  his  forehead,  she  exclaimed  : 

"  There  now  ;  am  I  not  always  in  the  right  ?  Here 
have  I  been  haymaking,  and  you  see  I  am  just  the  same  as  usual ;  and  you, 
Master  Cook,  Master  Cowherd,  Master  Housekeeper,  where  is  the  butter  ?  where 


The  Good  Woman.  45 

is  the  pig?  where  is  the  cow?  and  where  is  our  dinner?     If  the  baby  is  not 
killed,  it  certainly  is  not  your  fault.     Poor  little  thing  !     What  would  become  of 


you  if  you  had  not  your"  mother  to  look  after  you  ?  " 

Upon  this  she  set  to  work  to  cry  and  sob.  Peter  bowed  to  the  storm  in  silence, 
and  he  did  wisely,  for  resignation  becomes  lofty  souls,  but  some  days  after,  the 
neighbors  remarked  that  he  had  altered  the  sign  over  the  door.  In  the  place  of 


46 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


two  hands  clasping  a  heart,  and  surmounted  with  lambent  flames,  he  had  painted 
a  bee-hive  surrounded  with  bees,  and  below  it  the  following  inscription : — 

"  Bees  sting  much, 

But  wicked  tongues  more." 

This  was  all  the  revenge  he  took 
on  his  wife,  but  the  devil  was  no 
loser. 

Such  is  the  story  as  it  is  told  on 
winter  evenings   for  the  benefit  of 
the  young  Nonvegian  girls.      The 
choice  between  Gudbrand's  wife  and  the  wife  of  Gray- 
beard  must  be  made  at  their  own  peril. 

"  The  choice  is  an  easy  one,"  says  an  amiable 
neighbor,  who  has  just  become  a  grandmother ;  "  it 
is  Gudbrand's  wife  we  must  imitate,  as  much  from 
prudence  as  from  virtue.  You  men  are  more  comical 
than  you  think.  When  your  own  selfishness  is  in- 
volved, you  love  truth  and  justice  about  as  much  as 
owls  love  the  light.  Your 
delight  is  to  pardon  us  when 
you  are  to  blame,  and  gener- 
ously to  offer  to  forget  when 
you  are  in  the  wrong.  Our 
wisest  plan  is  to  let  men  say 
what  they  like  and  to  seem 
to  believe  them.  It  is  thus 
we  tame  these  noble  animals, 
and  are  able  to  lead  them  by 
the  nose  like  Italian  buffa- 
loes." 

"  But,    aunt,"   said   a  fair- 
haired  young  girl,  "  one  can- 
not always  be  silent,  and  one 
one's   own   when   one   is   in   the   right." 
"And  when  one  is  in  the  wrong,  my  dear,"  interrupted  the  aunt.     "  This  is  a 
kingly  prerogative.      When  did  ever  a  woman  surrender  this  royal  privilege? 
We  are  all  in  some  way  related  to  that  amiable  lady  who,  at  a  loss  for  arguments, 


hold 


The  Good  Woman. 


47 


annihilated  her  husband  with  a  look  of  disdain,  and  said,  '  Sir,  I  give  you  my 
word  of  honor,  I  am  in  the  right.'  What  can  he  answer?  Can  a  man  flatly  con- 
tradict his  wife  ?  And  what  is  strength  good  for  if  it  does  not  give  way  to  weak- 


ness?    The   poor  man  bowed  his  head,  and  said  nothing.     But  to  hold  one's 

tongue  is  not  always  to  confess  one's  self  beaten,  and  silence  is  not  always  peace." 

"Madam,"  said  a  young  married  woman,  "  it  seems  to  me  that  there  is  no 


48 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


choice   in    the    matter.     When  one  loves    one's  husband,  all  is  easy.     It  is  a 
pleasure  to  think  and  act  in  concert  with  him." 

"Yes,"  my  child,"  she 

replied,  "  that  is  the  key 

to    the   riddle.      Every 

one   knows   it,   but    no 

one  makes    use   of  the 

knowledge.     As  long  as 

the    honeymoon    lasts, 

everything    goes 

smoothly,    and  as  long 

as  a  husband  anticipates 

all  our  wishes,  we  have 

the  merit  of  letting  him 

act  as  he  likes  ;  but  later  on  it  is  no  longer  the  same  thing, 
maintain  our  supremacy?  Youth  and  beauty  pass  away,  and  wit  will  not  suffice. 
To  remain  mistress  of  one's  household,  loving-kindness,  the  divinest  of  virtues, 
is  necessary,  which  forgives  for  the  pleasure  of  forgiving.  To  love  much  and  to 
love  without  measure  in  order  that  we  may  be  loved  a  little  is  the  secret  of 
woman's  happiness,  and  is  the  moral  of  the  tale  of  Gudbrand  and  his  wife." 


How  are  we  to 


ICELANDIC  TALES. 


'"T^HERE  are  many  clever  people  who  look  upon  fairy  tales  as  literature  only 
JL  fit  for  the  nursery,  but  with  all  due  deference  to  their  wisdom  this  con- 
tempt  of  theirs  only  shows  their  ignorance.  Since  modern  criticism  has  traced 
civilization  back  to  its  origin,  fairy  tales  hold  a  high  place  in  the  estimation  oi 
learned  men.  From  Dublin  to  Bombay,  from  Iceland  to  Senegal,  an  army  oi 
patient  searchers  are  diligently  unearthing  these  precious  coins,  which,  though 
somewhat  defaced,  have  not  lost  all  their  beauty  or  value.  The  brothers 
Grimm,  Simrock,  Wak  Stephanovitch,  Asbjoernsen,  Moe,  Arnason,  Hahn,  and  a 
host  of  others,  are  household  names  amongst  us.  Perrault  would  be  much 
astonished,  were  he  to  revisit  earth,  to  find  how  wise  he  is  now  held  to  be  for 
having  neglected  the  Academy  to  publish  the  sayings  and  doings  of  Puss  in  Boots. 
Nowadays  the  folk-lore  of  every  country  is  being  carefully  collected,  and  it  has 
been  clearly  proved  that  fairy  tales,  which  are  to  be  found  everywhere,  date  from 
very  early  times.  The  most  interesting  document  obtained  from  Egyptian 
papyrus,  thanks  to  the  learned  M.  de  Ronge,  is  a  tale  which  recalls  to  us  adven- 
tures in  the  life  of  Joseph.  And  what  is  the  Odyssey  but  a  collection  of  fables 
which  delighted  early  Greece?  How  is  it  that  Herodotus  was  the  most  truthful, 
of  travelers  and  the  most  fallacious  of  historians?  Because  he  added  to  the 
accurate  accounts  he  wrote  of  every  thing  he  had  seen,  wonders  of  which  he  had 
only  heard.  The  wolf  of  Romulus,  the  fountain  of  Egeria,  the  childhood  of 
Servius  Tullus,  Tarquin's  poppies,  Brutus's  madness,  are  legends  that  delighted 
the  fancy  of  the  Romans.  What  we  call  antiquity  was  the  childhood  of  the 
world ;  these  stories  originated  then  and  charmed  the  wiseacres  of  that  day,  but 
now  the  race  has  grown  so  old  that  these  tales  are  looked  upon  as  fit  only  to 
amuse  our  children. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  all  our  fairy  tales  have  their  origin  in  the  East.  Any 
one  may  be  convinced  of  this  fact,  which  is  a  well-established  one,  by  reading  the 
learned  commentary  of  Pancha  Zantra,  a  work  which  does  much  honor  to  the 


50  Lab  onlay  es  Fairy    Tales. 

erudition  and  acumen  of  Herr  Benfey.  Our  fairy  tales,  legends,  stories,  and  fables 
all  came  to  us  originally  from  India.  India  in  the  first  instance  supplied  the 
material  for  all  these  pretty  tales,  and  each  nation  has  improved  upon  them 
according  to  its  individual  taste  ;  the  East  supplying  the  original  air,  the  West 
contributing  only  the  variations. 

To  every  nation  a  peculiar  gift  has  been  given.  Greece  possessed  a  marvelous 
appreciation  of  beauty  and  art  ;  Rome  a  spirit  of  discipline,  order,  and  obedience; 
India  specially  had  the  gift  of  imagination,  and  it  is  owing  to  this  that  at  the 
present  day  its  people  are  little  better  than  children — this  is  the  secret  of  its 
want  of  power.  But  India  alone,  among  all  the  nations  of  the  world,  had  the  genius 
necessary  to  produce  those  early  poems  that  have  dried  so  many  tears  and  made  so 
many  hearts  beat  fast  in  sympathy.  And  now,  how  came  these  stories  to  find 
their  way  to  the  West  ?  Do  we  owe  their  advent  to  the  Persians,  Arabs  or  Jews? 
or  simply  to  sailors  who  bore  them  with  them  wherever  they  went,  like  Sinbad  in 
the  Arabian  Nights?  This  question  embraces  a  branch  of  study  yet  in  its 
infancy,  but  which  some  day  may  produce  most  unexpected  results.  In  com- 
paring the  Greek  tales  which  M.  de  Hahn  published  a  few  years  ago  with  the 
"  Neapolitan  Pentamerone,"  it  is  very  clear  that  the  Mediterranean,  too,  had  its 
cycle  of  stories,  in  which  Cinderella,  Puss  in  Boots,  and  Psyche  figure.  This  last 
fable  has  enjoyed  a  boundless  popularity.  From  the  story  told  by  Apuleus,  to 
Beauty  and  the  Beast,  the  story  of  Psyche  takes  an  infinite  variety  of  shapes. 
Most  frequently  the  hero  disguises  himself  in  the  form  of  a  serpent,  sometimes 
in  that  of  a  pig  ("  the  King  Swine  "  of  Straparole,  ennobled  and  transformed  by 
Madame  d'Aulnoy  into  Prince  Marcassin),  but  the  groundwork  of  the  tale  is 
always  the  same.  Nothing  is  wanting  to  make  it  complete  ;  neither  the  wicked 
sisters  eaten  up  with  jealousy,  the  trouble  of  the  maiden  torn  between  tenderness 
'  and  curiosity,  nor  the  seven  trials  that  await  her.  The  name  Psyche,  which  is  the 
Greek  for  "  the  soul,"  seems  to  indicate  that  the  story  was  originally  a  Greek 
allegory,  but  Greece  has  only  given  fresh  life  to  an  old  story,  adorning  it  with  her 
usual  poetry  and  grace  as  she  does  every  thing  she  touches  ;  the  original  creation 
does  not  belong  to  her.  The  legend  is  to  be  found  in  the  East,  whence  it  has 
passed  into  the  folk-lore  of  Europe,  sometimes  even  it  is  reversed,  and  it  is  the 
woman  who  disguises  herself  in  the  shape  of  an  ape  or  a  bird,  and  it  is  the  man 
whose  curiosity  is  punished. 

"  Peau  d'Ane  "  is  but  a  version  of  the  original  story  which  has  for  centuries 
delighted  old  and  young.  And  now  I  hope  I  have  said  enough  to  make  earnest- 
minded  people  understand  that  it  is  possible  for  them  to  take  an  interest  in  fairy 


Iceland  Tales. 


tales  without  any  loss  of  dignity.  If  to  the  botanist  no  herb  is  so  cc-mmon,  nor 
moss  so  insignificant  but  it  is  interesting  as  explaining  one  of  Nature's  laws,  why 
should  we  despise  these  household  tales,  presenting  a  most  curious  and  interest- 
ing page  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind  ?  Philosophers  find  food  for  thought 
in  them  ;  nowhere  ebe  do  we  find  such  opportunities  for  studying  in  action  the 
play  of  the  most  powerful  of  our  faculties,  one  which,  in  setting  us  free  from  the 
limits  of  time  and  space,  draws  us  away  from  petty  cares  and  opens  out  to  us  the 
Infinite.  In  fairy  tales  imagination  reigns  with  undivided  sway  and  carries  out 
its  ideal  of  justice.  We  always  find  a  moral  prin- 
ciple in  them.  You  say  they  are  not  true  ?  Very 
good,  but  for  all  that  they  are  moral.  Mothers  who 
love  your  sons,  do  not  give  them  history  to  learn  too 
early  ;  let  them  dream  while  they  are  young.  Do 
not  close  their  souls  to  the  first  breath  of  poetry. 
Nothing  is  more  to  be  deplored  than  a  child  who 
only  believes  in  what  he  can  see  and  touch.  Such 
wiseacres  of  ten  will  be  fools  at  twenty,  or  what  is 
worse,  selfish  egoists.  Let  them  feel  indignant  at 
Bluebeard's  cruelty,  so  that  when  they  grow  up  they 
may  hate  injustice  of  any  kind,  even  when  it  does 
not  injure  them  personally. 

Amongst  the  many  collections  of  folk-lore  of 
different  nations,  few  are  found  to  rival  those  of 
Norway  and  Iceland  in  humor  and  variety.  It  seems 
as  though  the  old  myths,  when  banished  to  that 
corner  of  the  world,  have  been  more  perfectly  pre- 
served there  in  their  original  purity  than  elsewhere. 
We  must  not  expect  to  find  in  them  the  grace  and 

delicacy  of  outline  peculiar  to  the  tales  of  Italy,  for  they  are  rude  and  wild,  but 
they  have  certainly  retained  all  the  flavor  of  antiquity. 

In  the  "  Icelandic  Tales,"  as  in  the  Odyssey,  bodily  strength  and  cunning  are 
held  up  to  our  admiration,  but  it  is  strength  used  for  the  sake  of  justice,  and 
cunning  employed  as  a  means  to  undo  the  wicked.  Ulysses,  who  put  out  the  eye 
of  Polyphem-us  and  then  mocked  at  the  helplessness  and  fury  of  the  monster,  is 
cne  model  upon  which  are  formed  all  the  heroes  whose  exploits  cheer  the  Icng 
winter  nights  of  N.orway  and  Iceland.  Clever  thieves  also  are  great  favorites. 
They  succeed  in  finding  their  way  in  everywhere,  see  all  there  is  to  be  seen,  carry 


L,aboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


off  every  thing,  and  all  the  time  are  the  best  sons  in  the  world.  All  this  belong? 
clearly  to  a  time  when  brute  force  reigned  triumphant,  and  when  cleverness 
represented  justice  and  liberty. 

I  have  chosen  two  of  these  stories.  The  first,  "  Briam,  the  King's  Fool,"  puts 
us  slightly  in  mind  of  the  madness  of  Brutus,  and  carries  us  back  to  the  time 
when  hereditary  revenge  was  held  to  be  a  sacred  duty,  an  idea  which  was  not 
peculiar  to  the  Germanic  races,  but  which  with  them  long  retained  its  original 
wild  form.  The  legend  of  Briam  embodies  the  Salic  Law.  Amongst  our 
ancestors  it  was  always  the  most  virtuous  son  and  the  bravest  warrior  who 

by  brute  force  or  by  cunning 
avenged  his  murdered  father. 
Whether  Briam  ever  really 
lived  or  no  is  of  no  conse- 
quence. His  history  is  a  true 
one,  because  it  responds  to  a 
chord  existing  in  every  human 
heart.  Christianity  has  taught 
us  to  forgive  injuries,  and 
modern  laws  oblige  us  to 
leave  their  punishment  to  the 
State,  but  human  nature  still 
remains  the  same,  and  we 
feel  a  chord  vibrating  in  our 
hearts  with  the  magic  of  such 
a  tale  as  this. 


I. 


THE  STORY  OF  BRIAM,  THE  KING'S  FOOL. 


ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  in  Iceland  a  king  and  queen  who  reigned  over 
a  loyal  and  obedient  people.     The  Queen  was  good  and  gentle,  so  no  one 
ever  heard  much  about  her,  but  the  King  was  avaricious  and.  cruel,  therefor*  all 
who  were  afraid  of  him  lauded  his  virtues  to  the  skies.     Thanks  to  his  avarice 


The  Story  of  Briam. 


53 


the  King  had  castles,  farms,  and  cattle  without  number,  and  more  riches  of  all 
kinds  than  he  could  count,  but  the  more  he  possessed  the  more  he  wanted. 
Woe  to  the  man  whether  rich  or  poor  who  fell  into  his  clutches. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  park  which  surrounded  the  palace  stood  a  hut  in« 
habited  by  an  old  peasant  and  his  wife.  Heaven  had  blessed  them  with  seven 
children,  their  only  wealth.  For  the  support  of  this  numerous  family  these  good 
people  had  but  one  cow,  which  they  called  Bukolla.  It  was  a  splendid  creature, 
black  and  white,  with  small  horns  and  great  soft,  melancholy  eyes.  Beauty  was 
not  its  only  merit,  for  it  was  milked  three  times  a  day,  and  never  gave  less  than 
five  gallons  of  milk.  It  was  so  gentle  and  friendly  that  at  noon  it  came  home  of 
its  own  accord  to  be  milked. 
Indeed,  their  cow  was  the 
pride  and  joy  of  the  whole 
family. 

One  day  as  the  King  was 
going  out  hunting,  he  passed 
through  the  meadow  where 
the  royal  cows  were  grazing, 
and  it  chanced  that  Bukolla 
was  amongst  the  herd. 

"  What  a  fine  animal  I 
have  there ! "  exclaimed  the 
King. 

"  Sire,"  answered  the  cow- 
herd, "  that  animal  is  not 
yours ;  it  is  Bukolla,  the  cow 
of  a  poor  peasant  who  lives 
in  yonder  hut." 

"  Then  I  must  have  it,"  returned  the  King. 

All  the  while  he  was  hunting  the  King  could  talk  of  nothing  but  Bukolla. 
On  his  return  he  summoned  the  captain  of  the  guard,  who  was  as  wicked  as 
himself. 

"  Go,  find  that  peasant,"  he  said  to  him,  "  and  bring  me  at  once  the  cow  I 
have  taken  a  fancy  to." 

The  Queen  entreated  him  to  do  nothing  in  the  matter.  "  This  cow  is  all  that 
these  poor  people  possess,"  she  said,  "  and  if  you  take  it  from  them  they  will 
starve." 


54  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  I  must  have  it,"  the  King  said,  "  by  purchase,  exchange,  or  force,  no  matter 
which.  If  Bukolla  is  not  in  my  stables  in  an  hour's  time,  woe  betide  the  man 
who  has  neglected  my  orders,"  and  he  frowned  so  ferociously  that  the  Queen 
dared  not  open  her  mouth  again,  and  the  captain  of  the  guard  set  off  in  hot  haste 
with  a  band  of  his  men. 

The  peasant  was  busy  at  his  door  milking  the  cow ;  while  all  his  children 
pressed  round  to  caress  it.  When  he  heard  the  King's  message,  the  good  man 
shook  his  head,  and  said  he  would  not  part  with  Bukolla  at  any  price. 

"  She  is  all  th..t  I  have,"  he  added,  "  and  I  care  more  for  her  than  for  all  the  King's 
cows  and  all  the  King's  gold."  Neither  entreaties  nor  threats  could  make  him 
change  his  mind.  It  was  growing  late  when  the  captain  of  the  guard,  fearing 
his  master's  wrath,  seized  Bukolla's  halter  to  lead  it  away.  The  peasant  sprang 
up  to  prevent  him,  but  the  blow  of  an  ax  stretched  him  dead  upon  the  ground. 
At  this  dreadful  sight  all  the  children  sobbed  and  cried  most  piteously,  excepting 
Briam,  the  eldest  one,  who  turned  pale,  but  remained  dumb  and  motionless. 

The  captain  of  the  guard  knew  that  in  Iceland  blood  was  avenged  by  blood, 
and  that  sooner  or  later  the  son  would  avenge  the  father's  death.  If  a  man  does 
not  wish  a  tree  to  sprout  again  he  roots  it  up  utterly,  so  the  ruffian  seized  hold 
of  one  of  the  children,  who  were  all  crying. 

"Where  are  you  hurt  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Here,"  answered  the  child,  pointing  to  his  heart,  and  immediately  the  wretch 
plunged  his  dagger  into  his  bosom.  Six  times  the  cruel  man  asked  the  same 
question,  and  six  times  he  flung  the  corpse  of  a  son  on  the  dead  father. 

Meanwhile,  Briam,  open-mouthed  and  with  vacant  eyes,  was  chasing  the  flies 
circling  in  the  air. 

"  And  you,  fool,  where  are  you  hurt?  "  shouted  the  executioner. 

All  the  answer  Briam  gave  was  to  turn  away  from  him,  and  clap  himself  on  the 
back  with  both  hands  whilst  he  sang — 

"  One  day  my  mother,  by  her  fury  driven. 

Lifted  her  foot  against  me,  and  I  fell 
Prone  on  the  ground,  and  this  chastisement  given 

Inflicted  wounds  in  front  and  back  as  well. 
My  nose  is  broken  and  my  side  is  riven, 

Both  bearing  witness  that  the  truth  I  tell." 

The  captain  of  the  guard  ran  after  the  rude  lad,  but  his  companions  stopped 
him. 

"  Nonsense,"  they  cried  :  "  we  kill  a  wolfs  cubs  after  killing  the  wolf,  but  we 


The  Story  of  Briam. 


55 


do  not  kill  idiots.     What  harm  can  he  do  ?  "     And  Briam  ran  away,  singing  and 
dancing. 

The  same  evening  the  King  had  the  pleasure  of  stroking  Bukolla,  and  did  not 
consider  he  had  paid  too  dearly  for  it.  But  in  the  little  hut  a  poor  woman  wept, 
imploring  justice  from  Heaven.  The  King's  whim  had  in  one  hour  deprived  her 
of  her  husband,  and  six  children ;  and  of  all  she 
had  loved  and  that  made  life  worth  living  to  her, 
a  miserable  idiot  only  was  left. 


II. 

VERY  soon,  for  twenty  leagues  round,  nothing 
was  talked  of  but  Briam  and  his  follies.  One 
day  he  wanted  to  put  a  spoke  in  the  wheel  of  the 
sun,  and  the  next  he  threw  his  cap  into  the  air  to 
cover  the  moon.  The  King,  who  was  ambitious, 
longed  to  have  a  fool  at  his  court,  in  order  to 
imitate  in  a  small  way  the  great  kings  on  the  Con- 
tinent. So  Briam  was  brought  to  him,  and  was 
soon  dressed  in  a  fine,  parti-colored  suit.  One  of 
his  legs  was  blue  and  the  other  red ;  one  of  his 
sleeves  was  green  and  the  other  yellow  ;  while 
his  jerkin  was  orange.  In  this  parrot-like  costume 
it  was  Briam's  duty  to  amuse  the  court.  Some- 
times petted,  but  oftener  beaten,  the  poor  fool 
bore  it  all  without  a  murmur.  He  passed  whole 
hours  in  talking  to  the  birds  or  in  watching  the 
funeral  of  an  ant,  and  if  he  opened  his  mouth  it 
was  only  to  say  something  foolish — a  great  source  of  amusement  to  those  who 
did  not  suffer  by  it. 

One  day,  when  dinner  was  about  to  be  served,  the  captain  of  the  guard 
entered  the  royal  kitchen,  where  Briam  armed  with  a  chopper,  was  busy  cutting 
up  the  heads  of  carrots  as  if  they  were  parsley.  The  sight  of  tlus  knife  alarmed 
the  murderer,  whose  fears  were  easily  aroused. 

"  Briam,"  said  he,  "  where  is  your  mother? 


56  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  My  mother,"  replied  the  fool,  "  is  in  there  boiling."  And  he  pointed  to  an 
enormous  saucepan,  in  which  the  royal  dinner  was  being  cooked. 

"  Stupid  fool !  "  exclaimed  the  captain  of  the  guard,  pointing  to  the  pot, 
"  open  your  eyes  and  tell  me  what  that  is." 

"  That  is  my  mother,  because  it  feeds  me  !  "  cried  Briam,  and,  throwing  down 
his  chopper,  he  sprang  on  to  the  stove,  seized  the  saucepan  in  his  arms,  all  black 
as  it  was,  and  escaped  to  the  woods.  They  ran  after  him,  but  their  labor  was 
thrown  away,  for  when  he  was  caught,  they  found  the  pot  upset  and  broken,  and 
the  dinner  spoiled  ;  so  the  King  had  to  dine  that  evening  off  a  piece  of  bread, 
his  only  consolation  being  that  he  had  Briam  flogged  by  the  royal  scullions. 

Briam  returned,  limping,  to  the  hut,  and  told  his  mother  what  had  happened. 

"  Oh,  my  son,  my  son  ! "  said  the  poor  woman,  "  you  should  not  have  spoken 
like  that." 

"  What  ought  I  to  have  said,  mother?  " 

"  You  ought  to  have  said,"  she  replied,  "  'That  is  the  saucepan  which  is  filled 
day  by  day  by  the  generosity  of  the  King.'  " 

"  All  right,  mother ;  I  will  say  that  to-morrow." 

The  next  day  the  court  was  assembled,  and  the  King  was  chatting  with  the 
Lord  Chamberlain.  The  latter  was  a  very  great  man,  very  knowing  in  the  matter 
of  good  living,  and  very  fat  and  jocose.  He  had  a  great  bald  head,  a  thick  neck, 
and  such  an  enormous  paunch  that  in  vain  he  attempted  to  fold  his  arms  over  it, 
while  his  two  little  legs  had  much  difficulty  in  carrying  his  great  weight. 

While  the  Lord  Chamberlain  was  talking  to  the  King,  Briam  boldly  thumped 
him  on  the  stomach. 

"  Look,"  said  he,  "  at  the  pot  which  the  King's  generosity  fills  day  by  day." 

It  is  needless  to  say  he  was  beaten  for  this.  The  King  was  furious,  and  so  was 
the  court ;  but  it  was  whispered  through  the  palace  that  fools,  without  knowing 
it,  sometimes  hit  the  right  nail  on  the  head.  When  Briam  limped  home,  he 
told  his  mother  what  had  occurred. 

"  My  son,"  she  cried, "  you  should  not  have  said  that." 

"  Then  what  ought  I  to  have  said,  mother?" 

"  You  should  have  said,  '  Behold  the  most  amiable  and  faithful  of  courtiers!'" 

"  Very  good,  mother ;  I  will  say  so  to-morrow." 

The  next  day  the  King  held  a  great  levee,  and  while  ministers  of  state, 
officers,  courtiers,  and  fine  lords  and  ladies  were  struggling  to  win  a  smile  from 
him,  he  amused  himself  with  teasing  a  big  spaniel,  that  snatched  a  biscuit 
out  of  his  hand.  Briam  seated  :  imself  at  the  King's  feet,  and,  taking  up 


The  Story  of  Briam. 


57 


the    dog    by   the   scruff   of    its   neck,    made    it    howl,    while    he    exclaimed— 
u  Look  at  the  most  amiable  and  faithful  of  courtiers." 

This  sally  made  the  King  smile,  and  directly  all  the  courtiers  laughed,  almost 
splitting  their  sides,  and  seemed  to  be  trying  who  could  laugh  the  loudest.  But 
as  soon  as  the  King  was  gone,  a  shower  of  kicks  and  blows  fell  upon  poor  Briam, 
who  had  great  difficulty  in  escaping  from  the  storm. 

When  he  had  related  every  thing  to  his  mother,  she  said — 

"You  ought  to  have  said,  'Here  is  some  one  who  would  swallow  up  every 
thing,  if  you  allowed  him.' " 

"  Very  well,  mother ;  I  will  say  so  to-morrow." 

The  next  day  was  a  great  holiday,  and  the  Queen  appeared  in  the  throne-room 
in  her  choicest  array.    She  was  decked  in  velvet, 
lace,  and  jewels,  and  her  necklace  alone  was 
worth  the  taxes  of  twenty  villages.     Every  one 
remarked  upon  the  splendor  of  her  appearance. 

"  See,"  said  Briam,  "  here  is  one  who  would 
swallow  up  every  thing,  if  she  were  allowed." 

There  would  soon  have  been  an  end  of  the 
.audacious  fellow  if  the  Queen  had  not  pleaded 
for  him. 

"  Poor  fool,"  she  said,  "  go  away,  lest  they 
<Io  you  a  mischief.  If  you  only  knew  how 
heavily  these  jewels  weigh  upon  me,  you  would 
not  reproach  me  with  wearing  them." 

When  Briam  went  home  he  repeated  this  to 
his  mother,  who  exclaimed — 

"  Ah,  my  son,  you  ought  to  have  said,  '  See 
the  King's  love  and  pride?' "  which  Briam 
promised  to  say  the  next  day. 

On  the  morrow  the  King  went  hunting.  His  favorite  mare  was  brought  round, 
and  as  he  mounted  he  carelessly  took  leave  of  the  Queen. 

Briam  patted  the  horse  on  the  shoulder,  and  cried,  "  See  the  love  and  pride  of 
•our  King ! " 

The  King  looked  askance  at  Briam,  who  took  to  his  heels,  for  he  always 
scented  the  blows  of  a  stick  from  afar.  Seeing  him  enter  breathless,  his  poor 
mother  cried — 

"  Mv  son,  do  not  return  to  the  palace.     You  will  be  killed." 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Patience,  mother.     Who  knows  who  is  fated  to  be  killed  and  who  will  live?** 
"  Alas !  "  returned  his  mother,  weeping,  "  your  father  is  fortunate  to  be  dead, 
for  he  is  spared  seeing  both  your  shame  and  mine." 

"  Patience,  mother,"  replied  Briam.     "  The  days  follow  in  each  other's  wake, 

but  they  are  not  all  alike." 


N 


III. 

EARLY  three 
months  after 
Briam's  father  had  been 
laid  in  the  grave  with  his 
six  children,  the  King  gave 
a  grand  banquet  to  the 
principal  officers  of  his 
court.  On  his  right  sat 
the  captain  of  the  guard 
and  on  his  left  the  Lord 
Chamberlain.  The  table 
groaned  under  the  good 
cheer,  and  the  company 
drank  deeply  out  of  golden 
goblets.  Heads  became 
heated  with  wine,  and  talk- 
ing  grew  louder  and  louder,: 
and  altercations  arose. 
Briam,  madder  than  ever,, 
handed  round  the  wine,, 

and  never  let  a  glass  be  empty.  But  while  in  one  hand  he  carried  the  golden 
flagon,  with  the  other  he  pinned  together  the  skirts  of  the  guests,  two  and  two, 
so  effectually  that  no  one  could  rise  without  obliging  his  neighbor  to  do  the  same. 
Thrice  he  had  gone  through  this  pantomime,  when  the  King,  excited  by  the 
heat  and  the  wine,  exclaimed — 

"  Mount  on  the  table,  fool,  and  amuse  us  with  a  song." 

Briam  sprang  lightly  on  the  table  and  began  to  sing  in  a  lugubrious  voice — 


The  Story  of  Briam.  59 

"  Every  dog  has  its  day, 

I  have  heard  people  say  ; 
But  beware  of  a  coming  to-morrow 

The  King  on  his  throne. 

And  the  dog  with  his  bone. 
Must  prepare  for  their  portion  of  sorrow. 

"  Scoundrel !"  shouted  the  King,  "  I  believe  you  are  defying  me.  I  will  punish 
you  as  you  deserve."  And, 
rising  suddenly,  the  King! 
dragged  up  with  him  the 
captain  of  the  guard.  The 
latter  was  startled,  and  in 
order  to  keep  his  feet, 
leaned  forward  and  caught 
hold  of  the  King's  arm| 
and  neck. 

"  Wretch  !  "  cried  the 
King,  "do  you  dare  to  I 
lift  your  hand  against  your 
master?"  ?nd  seizing  his 
dagger,  he  was  about  to 
stab  the  officer,  when  the 
latter,  in  self  defense, 
seizing  the  King's  arm 
with  one  hand,  with  the  I 
other  plunged  his  dagger 
into  the  Prince's  neck, 
who  fell,  dragging  his 
murderer  down  with  him. 
In  the  midst  of  the 
cries  and  tumult  which  fol-l 
lowed  the  captain  of  the 
guard  quickly  rose,  and| 
drawing  his  sword,  ex- 
claimed— 

"  Gentlemen,  the  tyrant' 
fs  dead.     Long    live    our 


6o 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


liberty !     I  proclaim    myself  King,  and  I  will   marry  the  Queen.     If  any  one 
objects,  let  him  speak  out,  and  I  will  hear  him." 

"  Long  live  the  King !  "  cried  all  the  courtiers.     Some  even  profited  by  the 

occasion,  and  drew  petitions  out  of  their 
pockets. 

The  joy  was  universal,  when  suddenly, 
with  flaming  eyes  and  with  an  ax  in 
his  hand,  Briam  appeared  before  the 
usurper. 

"  Dog,  and  son  of  a  dog!"  he  cried, 
"  when  you  killed  my  father  and  my 
brothers,  you  feared  neither  God  nor 
man.  Defend  yourself !  " 

The  captain  of  the  guard  tried  to  de- 
fend himself ;  but  Briam  with  a  furious 
blow  struck  down  his  right  arm,  which  hung  like  a  broken  branch. 

"  Now,"  cried  Briam,  "  if  you  have  a  son,  tell  him  to  avenge  you  as 
mad  Briam  to-day  avenges  his  father."  Saying  this,  he  split  his  head  in  two. 

"Long  live  Briam!" 
shouted  the  courtiers. 
Long  live  our  deliverer!  " 
At  this  moment  the 
Queen  entered,  and  throw- 
ing herself  at  the  fool's 
feet,  called  him  her 
avenger.  Briam  raised  her, 
and  placing  himself  at  her 
side,  as  he  brandished  his 
bloody  ax,  he  invited  all 
the  officers  of  state  to  take 
the  oath  of  fidelity  to  their 
rightful  sovereign.  Shouts  of  "  Long  live  the  Queen ! "  rent  the  air. 

The  Queen  wished  to  keep  Briam  at  court,  but  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
return  to  his  hut,  and  would  accept  of  no  other  reward  than  the  poor  beast,  the 
innocent  cause  of  so  much  misery.  When  the  cow  was  brought  back  to  the 
cottage  door,  it  lowed  for  those  who  could  no  longer  hear  it,  and  the  poor  widow 
came  out  weeping. 


The  Story  of  Briam.  6 1 

Mother,"   said   Briam.   "  here   is   Bukolla,  and  you    are  at  last  avenged." 


IV. 


THUS  the  story  ends.     What  became  of  Briam?     Nobody  knows;  but  the 
country  people  still  show  the  hut  where  Briam  and  his  brothers  dwelt,  and 
fathers  tell  their  children,  "  There  lived  one  who  avenged  his  father  and  com- 
forted his  mother; "  and  the  children  answer,  "  We  will  do  the  same." 


OUR  next  is  a  robber's  tale.  We  are  rather  scandalized  at  such  stories  now- 
a-days,  and  have  no  respect  for  the  kind  of  cleverness  that  leads  to  the 
treadmill,  but  in  olden  times  it  used  not  to  be  so.  Herodotus  thought  there  was 
no  harm  in  narrating  an  Egyptian  story  also  to  be  found  in  the  East,  which  is 
clearly  only  a  fairy  tale  after  all.  In  Enterpius?  we  read  how  King  Rhampsinitus 
employed  the  oddest  means  to  catch  the  clever  thief  who  robbed  his  treasure- 
house,  and  how  thrice  deceived,  as  king,  judge,  and  father,  he  found  the  best 
thing  to  do  was  to  accept  the  bold  and  cunning  robber  as  a  son-in-law.  The 
historian  says  that  Rhampsinitus  made  him  cordially  welcome,  and  gave  him  his 
daughter  in  marriage  because  he  had  proved  himself  to  be  the  cleverest  man 
living;  he  had  shown  himself  superior  to  the  Egyptians,  and  they  were  unques- 
tionably superior  to  all  other  nations  ! 

Stories  of  thieves  such  as  these  abound  in  ail  collections  of  popular  romances. 
Under  the  title  of  The  Master  Thief,  Mr.  Asbjoernsen  has  published  a  Norwe- 
gian story  which  bears  considerable  resemblance  to  the  one  I  am  about  to  relate.1 

What  strikes  one  most  in  these  tales  is  the  naive  admiration  of  the  narrator 
for  the  exploits  of  his  heroes.  We  have  long  since  passed  that  stage.  The 
Greeks  looked  up  to  Ulysses,  who  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  robber,  and 
the  Romans  worshipped  Mercury.  Our  Northern  forefathers  two  or  three 
thousand  years  ago  held  thieves  in  honor,  our  fathers  admired  the  Heiduques 
and  the  Klephts,  and  we  still  hold  great  conquerors  in  high  esteem.  Who  can  say 
what  our  children  will  think  of  us  for  that  ?  Some  day  they  may  laugh  over  our 
want  of  civilization,  as  we  do  over  that  of  our  fathers,  and  they  will  be  perfectly 

1  Herodotus,  Book  ii.  chap.  cxxi. 

sTranslated  by  Mr.  Dasent  in  his  Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse.  Edinburgh,  1859. 


62  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

right  to  do  so.     May  the  day  hasten  on  when  such  empty,  yet  such  costly  glory 
will  be  held  to  be  no  more  worthy  of  respect  than  a  fairy  legend  ! 


II. 
THE  LITTLE  GRAY  MAN. 

IN  olden  times  (I  speak  of  three  or  four  hundred  years  ago)  there  dwelt  at 
Skalholt,  in  Iceland,  an  old  peasant,  who  was  no  cleverer  than  he  was  rich. 
One  day  at  church  he  heard  a  fine  sermon  preached  on  charity — "  Give  alms, 
my  brethren — give  alms,"  said  the  priest,  "  and  the  Lord  will  repay  you  a 
hundredfold."  These  words,  repeated  again  and  again,  took  hold  of  the  peas- 
ant's  mind,  and  confused  what  little  brains  he  had.  As  soon  as  he  got  home 
he  set  to  work  to  cut  down  the  trees  in  his  garden,  to  dig  foundations,  and 
to  cart  wood  and  stones  as  if  he  were  going  to  build  a  palace. 

"What  are  you  doing  there,  my  poor  husband  ?  "  asked  his  wife. 

"  Don't  call  me  your  poor  husband,"  said  the  peasant  in  a  solemn  voice  ;  "we 
are  rich,  my  dear  wife — or  at  least  we  soon  shall  be.  In  a  fortnight's  time  I 
shall  give  away  my  cow." 

"  What !  our  only  means  of  support ! "  exclaimed  his  wife.  "  Why,  we  shall 
die  of  starvation  L " 

"  Be  quiet,  foolish  woman  !  "  replied  the  peasant ;  "  it  is  very  clear  you  do  not 
understand  the  vicar's  sermons.  If  we  give  away  our  cow,  we  shall  receive  a 
hundred  in  its  place  for  our  reward.  Our  vicar  said  so,  and  it  is  in  the  gospel. 
J  shall  stable  fifty  cows  in  the  outhouse  I  am  building,  and  with  the  price  of  the 
fifty  others  I  will  buy  land  enough  to  feed  the  herd  both  in  winter  and  summer. 
We  shall  be  richer  than  the  king." 

Without  further  troubling  himself  with  his  wife's  remonstrances,  our  literal 
friend  set  to  work  to  build  kis  stable,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  his  neighbors. 
When  it  was  done,  the  good  man  fastened  a  cord  round  his  cow's  neck  and  took 
it  straight  to  the  vicar.  He  found  him  in  conversation  with  two  strangers  whom 
he  scarcely  glanced  at,  so  bent  was  he  on  making  his  present  and  receiving  his 
reward.  The  pastor  was  greatly  astonished,  and  pointed  out  to  the  poor  man 
that  our  Lord  was  speaking  of  spiritual  rewards,  but  all  in  vain ;  the  peasant  kept 
on  repeating,  "You  said  so,  your  Reverence — you  said  so."  Tired  of  trying  to 
make  him  listen  to  reason,  the  vicar,  at  last  losing  patience,  turned  him  out  of 


The  Little  Gray  Man. 


the  house,  and  the  man,  quite  bewildered,  stood  stock  still  in  the  middle  of  the 
road,  repeating,  "  You  said  you,  you  said  so.  ' 

He  had  to  go  home,  which  was  not  very  easy,  for  it  was  spring-time  and  the  ice 
was  thawing  and  the  wind  blew  up  the  snow  in  eddies.  At  every  step  he 
slipped,  and  the  poor  cow  lowed  and  refused  to  advance.  At  the  end  of  an 
hour  the  peasant  had  lost  his  way,  and  was  in  danger  of  losing  his  life  into  the 
bargain.  Perplexed,  he  came  to  a  full  stop,  bemoaning  his  bad  luck  and  not 
knowing  what  to  do  with  the  cow  he  was  leading.  While  he  was  thus  musing 
disconsolately,  a  man  came  by  carrying  a  large  sack,  and  asked  him  what  he 
was  doing  out  there  with  his  cow  in  such  bad  weather. 

When  the  peasant  had  told  him  his  trouble,  "  My  good  man,"  said  the  stranger, 
"  you  had  better  make 
an  exchange  with  me. 
I  live  close  by — give 
me  your  cow,  which  you 
will  never  be  able  to 
get  home,  and  you  take 
my  sack ;  it  is  not  very- 
heavy,  and  all  that  it 
contains  is  worth  hav- 
ing ;  there  are  meat  and 
bones  in  it." 

The  bargain  was  soon 
concluded,  and  the 
stranger  led  off  the  cow,      ^^S^^^^-^^^^^^^m^^^^^^^^^^^^^^=^^^^ 
while  the  peasant    laid 

the  sack,  which  he  found  exceedingly  heavy,  across  his  shoulders.  Directly  he 
got  home,  fearing  the  sneers  and  reproaches  of  his  wife,  he  gave  her  a  long 
story  of  all  the  dangers  he  had  run,  and  how  he  had  cleverly  exchanged  a  cow 
that  was  dying  for  a  sack  full  of  treasure. 

While  his  wife  listened  to  this  long  story  she  looked  furious,  but  her  husband 
begged  her  not  to  be  angry,  but  to  put  her  biggest  saucepan  on  the  fire. 

"  You  shall  see  what  I  have  brought  you,"  he  repeated.  "  Wait  a  little  and 
you  will  thank  me." 

Saying  this,  he  opened  the  sack,  and,  lo  and  behold !  out  came  a  little  man 
dressed  all  in  gray  like  a  mouse. 

"Good  evening,  friends,"  he  said,  with  an  airworthy  of  a  prince.     "  I  hope  that 


6 .  Laboulaye's  Fairy  Tales. 

instead  of  cooking  me  you  will  give  me  something  to  eat.    This  little  journey 
has  given  me  a  splendid  appetite." 

The  peasant  dropped  into  a  chair  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 

«•  There  "  said  his  wife,  •«  did  I  not  know  it  all  along  ?  Here's  a  nice  piece  of  folly ! 
but  what  can  one  expect  of  one's  husband  but  stupidity  ?  He  has  given  away  our 
cow,  which  was  our  only  means  of  support;  and  now  that  we  are  without  any, 
he  brings  home  another  mouth  to  feed.  Why  did  you  not  remain  under  the 

snow,  you  and  your  sack 
and  your  treasure  ?  " 

The  good  woman 
would  have  gone  on 
talking  much  longer  if 
the  little  gray  man  had 
not  pointed  out  to  her 
that  talking  did  not  fill 
the  pot,  and  that  the 
wisest  thing  to  do  was 
to  go  out  and  bring 
home  some  game. 

He  went  out  imme- 
diately, in  spite  of  the 
darkness  and  the  storm 
of  wind  and  snow,  and 
returned  after  a  while 
with  a  big  sheep. 

"  Come,"      said     he, 
"  and   kill   this   sheep  for  me.     Do   not   let   us   die  of   hunger." 

The  old  man  and  his  wife  looked  at  each  other  and  then  at  the  little  man  and 
his  booty.  This  prize  fallen  from  the  clouds,  smelled  of  stolen  property,  but  when 
starvation  is  in  question,  farewell  to  scruples  !  Lawfully  or  not  the  mutton  was 
devoured  with  relish. 

From  that  day  forward  there  was  always  abundance  in  the  peasant's  hut. 
Sheep  succeeded  sheep,  and  the  good  man,  more  confirmed  than  ever  in  his 
belief,  asked  himself  whether  he  had  not  gained  by  the  exchange  he  had  made, 
when  Heaven,  instead  of  the  hundred  cows  had  sent  him  such  a  clever  purveyor 
as  the  little  gray  man. 

There  is  a  reverse  side  to  every  shield.     While  mutton  grew  more  and  more 


The  Little  Gray  Man.  65 

plentiful  in  the  old  man's  cottage,  the  royal  flock  which  grazed  in  the  meadows 
near  grew  smaller  and  smaller.  The  head  shepherd,  uneasy  at  this,  told  the  king 
that  for  some  time,  though  he  had  had  them  watched  with  redoubled  vigilance, 
the  finest  sheep  of  the  flock  had  disappeared  one  after  the  other.  No  doubt 
some  clever  thief  must  be  in  the  neighborhood.  Soon  it  was  known  that  there 
was  a  new  comer  lodging  in  a  peasant's  hut,  but  that  no  one  knew  whence  he 
came.  The  king  then  commanded  the  stranger  to  be  brought  before  him.  The 
little  man  walked  off  in  custody  quite  unconcernedly,  but  the  peasant  and  his  wife 
trembled  remorsefully  when  they  thought  that  the  receivers  as  well  as  the  thief 
would  probably  be  hanged. 

When  the  little  gray  man  was  brought  before  the  king  and  his  court,  the  king 
asked  him  if  by  any  chance  he  had  heard  that  five  big  sheep  had  been  stolen 
from  the  royal  flock. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,"  answered  the  little  man,  "  it  was  I  who  took  them." 

"  And  by  what  right  ?  "  inquired  the  king. 

"  Your  majesty,"  replied  the  little  man,  "  I  took  them  because  a  poor  old 
couple  were  starving,  while  you,  sire,  were  rolling  in  riches,  and  could  not  even 
consume  the  tenth  part  of  your  revenues.  It  seemed  to  me  better  that  these 
good  people  should  live  on  your  superfluities  rather  than  die  of  misery,  while 
you  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  your  riches." 

The  king  was  dumbfounded  at  his  audacity,  and  after  looking  at  the  little  man 
with  an  expression  that  boded  no  good,  said — 

"  As  far  as  I  see,  your  chief  talent  is  stealing." 

The  little  man  bowed  with  a  proud  modesty. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  king,  "you  deserve  to  be  hanged,  but  I  pardon  you  on 
condition  that  by  to-morrow  at  this  time  you  shall  have  stolen  from  my  shep- 
herds my  black  bull,  which  I  have  given  particular  orders  to  be  carefully  guarded." 

"  Your  majesty,"  replied  the  little  gray  man,  requires  of  me  an  "  impossibility. 
How  can  I  elude  vigilance  like  that?" 

"  If  you  do  not  do  it,"  returned  the  king,  "you  will  be  hanged." 

And  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  he  dismissed  the  thief,  to  whom  every  body 
whispered  as  he  went  out,  "  You  will  be  hanged ! " 

The  little  gray  man  returned  to  the  hut,  where  he  was  warmly  welcomed  by 
the  old  man  and  his  wife.  But  he  told  them  nothing,  only  that  he  wanted  a 
rope,  and  should  be  starting  at  daybreak  the  next  day.  They  gave  him  the  cow's 
old  halter,  whereupon  he  retired  to  rest  and  slept  peacefully. 

At  the  first  glimmer  of  dawn  the  little  gray  man  set  off  with  his  rope.     He 


66 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


went  into  the  forest,  taking  the  road  along  which  the  king's  flocks  would  pass, 

and  choosing  a  great  oak  well  in  sight,  he  hung  himself  by  the  neck  to  the  thick- 

est  of  its  branches,  taking  good  care  not  to  make  a  slipknot. 

Soon  afterward  two  herdsmen  arrived  at  the  spot,   leading   the   black   bull 

"  Ah,"  said  one  of 
them,  "  look  at  that 
rascal  who  has  got  his 
deserts  ;  any  how,  this 
time  he  has  not  stolen 
the  halter.  Good  morn- 
ing, you  rogue.  The 
king's  bull  will  not  be 
stolen  by  you." 

As  soon  as  the  herds- 
men were  out  of  sight, 
the  little  man  in  gray 
came  down  from  the 
tree,  took  a  cross  road, 
and  suspended  himself 
afresh  to  a  big  oak  close 
to  the  road.  The  as- 
tonishment of  the  king's 
herdsmen  at  the  sight 
of  the  man  hanging  may 
easily  be  imagined. 

"What  is  that?"  ex- 
claimed  one  of  them. 
"  Am  I  going  blind  ? 
Look,  here  is  the  man 
who  was  hanging  over 
there  ! " 

"  How  stupid  you 
are  !  "  said  his  compan- 
ion ;  "how could  a  man 

be  hanging  in  two  places  at  once?    No  doubt  it  is  a  second  thief;  that  is  all." 
"  I  tell  you  it  is  the  same  one,"  replied  the  first  herdsman.     "  I  recognize  him 

Sy  his  coat  and  his  face." 


The  Little  Gray  Man.  67 

"And  I,"  returned  the  second,  who  was  a  skeptic,  "will  take  any  wager  you 
Jike  it  is  another." 

The  wager  was  accepted,  the  two  herdsmen  fastened  up  the  king's  bull  to  a 
tree  and  ran  back  to  the  first  oak.     But  while  they  ran  the  little  man  in  gray 
jumped  down    from  his  gibbet  and  quietly  led  the  bull  to 
the  peasant's  hut.     There  was  great  joy  in  the  house,  and 
the  animal  was  put  in  the  stable  till  it  should  be  sold. 
When  the  two   herdsmen    returned  to  the  castle 
in  the  evening,  looking  very  crestfallen  and  their 
heads  hanging,  the  king  saw  at  once  that  they 
had  been   made  fools    of.      He   sent    for  the 
little  man   in  gray,    who  made   his  appear- 
ance with  all  the  serenity  of  a  lofty  mind. 

"  It  is  you  who  have  stolen  my  bull," 
said  the  king. 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  little  man,  "  I  did 
it  but  to  obey  you." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  king.  "  Here 
are  ten  gold  crowns  to  buy  back  my 
bull ;  but  if  in  two  days  you  have  not 
stolen  my  bedclothes  off  my  bed  while 
I  am  in  it  you  will  be  hanged." 

"  Please,  your  majesty,"  said  the 
little  man,  "  do  not  ask  me  to  do  such 
an  impossibility.  You  are  too  well 
guarded  for  a  poor  man  like  me  even 
to  be  able  to  approach  the  castle." 
"  If  you  do  not  do  it,"  replied  the 

king,    "  I  shall  have   the   pleasure  of 

seeing  you  hanged." 

Night  having  come  on,  the  little  man  in  gray,  who  had  returned  to  the  cottage, 
took  a  long  rope  and  a  basket.  Into  this  basket,  comfortably  lined  with  moss, 
he  put  a  cat  who  had  just  kittened,  with  all  her  family ;  then  walking  quietly 
through  the  darkness,  he  slipped  into  the  castle  and  scaled  the  roof  without 
being  seen  by  any  one. 

To  find  his  way  into  a  loft,  and  neatly  saw  through  the  flooring,  and  then 
through  this  opening  to  let  himself  down  into  the  king's  chamber  was  but 


68 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


a  short  piece  of  work  for  our  clever  friend.     Once  there  he  gently  turned  down 

the  royal  bedclothes  and  laid  the  cat  and  her  kittens  in  the  bed  ;  then  he  tucked 

in  the  bedclothes  again,  and  climbing  up  the  rope  seated  himself  on  the  canopy 

of  the  bed.     From  this  elevated  post  he  waited  patiently  for  what  should  ensue. 

The  palace  clock  struck  eleven  as  the  king  and  queen  entered  their  apartment. 

Having  unrobed,  they  both  kneeled  and  said  their 

prayers ;  then  the  king  extinguished  the  light  and 

ri^        the  queen  retired  to  rest. 
Suddenly  she  gave  a  scream  and  sprang  into  the 
middle  of  the  room. 
"  Have  you  gone   out  of  your   mind  ? "  said  the 
king.     "  Are  you  going  to  alarm  the  whole  castle  ?  " 
"  My  dear,"  replied  the  queen,  "  I  felt  a  burning 
heat,  and  my  foot  touched  something  hairy." 

"  Why  not  say  at  once  the  devil  is  in  the  bed  ?  " 
returned  the  king,  with  a  sarcastic  smile.  "  Women 
have  the  pluck  of  hares  and  the  wit  of  owls." 

Upon  which  he  bravely  plunged  under  the  bed- 
clothes, but  in  an  instant  he  jumped  out,  bellowing 
like  a  bull,  dragging  after  him  the  cat,  who  had 
buried  her  claws  in  the  calf  of  his  leg. 

On  hearing  the  king's  shouts  the  sentinel  came  to 
the  door  and  knocked  three  times  with  his  halberd, 
to  ask  if  he  needed  help. 

"  Silence,"  cried  the  king,  who  was  ashamed  of  his 
weakness,  and  did  not  wish  to  be  caught  in  a  par- 
oxysm of  nervous  terror. 

He  struck  a  light,  lit  the  lamp,  and  saw  the  cat  in 
the  middle  of  the  bed.  She  had  returned  to  that 
position  and  was  tenderly  licking  her  kittens. 

"  This  is  too  bad  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  without  respect  to  our  crown  this  insolent 
creature  has  dared  to  invade  our  royal  couch  with  her  kittens !  Wait,  you  hussy  ! 
I  am  going  to  give  you  your  deserts." 

"  It  will  bite  you,"  said  the  queen,  "  perhaps  it  is  mad." 

"  Do  not  be  afraid,  my  dear,"  said  the  good  king,  and  lifting  up  the  corners  of  the 
under  sheet  he  wrapped  up  the  cat  and  her  kittens ;  then  rolling  up  this  bundle  in  the 
coverlet  and  upper  sheet  he  made  an  enormous  ball  and  threw  it  out  of  the  window. 


The  Little  Gray  Man. 


"  Now,"  said  he  to  the  queen,  "  let  us  go  into  your  room,  and  since  we  have 
taken  bur  revenge  we  can  sleep  in  peace." 

The  king  sleeps !  and  may  be  happy  dreams  attend  him  in  his  sleep  ;  but  while 
he  is  reposing,  a  man  climbs  over  the  roof,  and  having  fastened  a  rope  up  there 
slips  down  it  into  the  courtyard.  He  feels  about  for  an  invisible  object,  which  he 
lifts  on  to  his  back,  then  scales  the  wall  and  runs  off  through  the  snow.  If  the  sen- 
tinels are  to  be  believed  a  phantom 
passed  them  in  the  night  and  they 
heard  the  cry  of  a  new  born  child. 

The  next  morning  when  the  king 
awoke,  he  collected  his  thoughts 
and  began  for  the  first  time  to  reflect 
on  his  nocturnal  adventure.  He 
then  suspected  that  a  trick  had  been 
played  him,  and  that  the  author  of 
the  crime  was  very  probably  the  little 
man  in  gray ;  so  he  sent  for  him  at 
once. 

The  little  man  made  his  appear- 
ance carrying  on  his  shoulder  the 
freshly  ironed  sheets,  and  kneeling  on 
one  knee  before  the  queen,  he  said 
respectfully: 

"Your  majesty  knows  that  all  I  have 

done  was  only  to  obey  the  king.  I  hope  he  will  be  graciously  pleased  to  pardon  me." 
•  "  I  have  no  objection  to  do  so,"  said  the  queen,  "  but  do  not  ever  do  it  again. 
I  should  die  of  fright." 

"  And  I,  I  do  not  pardon  you,"  exclaimed  the  king,  much  annoyed  that  the 
queen  dared  to  forgive  the  offender  without  first  consulting  her  lord  and  master. 
"  Listen  to  me,  rascal,  if  by  to-morrow  evening  you  have  not  stolen  the  queen 
herself  from  the  castle,  to-morrow  evening  you  shall  be  hanged." 

"  Please  your  majesty,"  cried  the  little  man,  "  rather  hang  me  at  once  and  you 
will  spare  me  four  and  twenty  hours  of  anguish.  How  is  it  possible  for  me  to 
succeed  in  such  an  attempt  ?  It  would  be  easier  to  make  one's  dinner  off  the 
moon." 

"  That  is  your  affair,  not  mine,"  replied  the  king.  "  Meanwhile  1  will  give 
orders  for  the  gibbet  to  be  prepared." 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


The  little  man  went  out  from  the  royal  presence  in  despair ;  he  hid  his  face  in 
his  hands  and  sobbed  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  For  the  first  time  the  king 
burst  out  laughing. 

Towards  twilight  a  saintly  capuchin,  with  his  rosary  in  his  hand,  and  his  wallet 
on  his  back,  came  after  the  manner  of  his  brotherhood  to  beg  for  broken  victuals 
at  the  castle  gates.  When  the  queen  had  given  him  alms : 

'  "  Madam,"  said  the  capuchin,  "  God  will  recompense  you,  and  in  my  hands 
now  is  your  reward.  To-morrow  you  know  an  unhappy  but  guilty  man  will 
doubtless  be  hanged  within  the  castle  walls." 

"Alas!"   said  the  queen,   "I  forgive  him  with  all  my  heart,  and  I  wanted  to 
save  his  life." 

"  That   is   not   possible,"   replied   the   monk ;    "  but 
this  man,  who  is  a  kind  of  sorcerer,  can  make   you  a 
valuable    present   before    he   dies.      I    know    he    pos- 
sesses  three   wonderful    secrets,    one   of    which   alone 
is  worth  a   kingdom,  and  one  of  these  three   secrets 
he  can  bequeath  to  her  who  has  compassion  on  him." 
"What  are  these  secrets  ?  "  asked  the  queen. 
"  By  virtue   of  the   first,"  answered  the  monk,    "  a 
wife  can  make  her  husband  do  all  she  wishes." 

"Ah!"  said  the  queen,  pouting,  "that  is  not  a 
very  wonderful  recipe.  Ever  since  the  time  of  Eve 
this  mystery  has  been  handed  down  from  mother  to 
daughter.  What  is  the  second  secret? " 

"The  second  secret  makes  a  person  both  wise  and 
good." 

"  Well,"  said  the  queen,  in  an  absent  tone  and  quite  uninterested,  "  what  is  the 
third?" 

The  third,"  replied  the  capuchin,  "  secures  to  the  woman  who  possesses  it 
peerless  beauty  and  the  gift  of  pleasing  to  the  last  day  of  her  life." 
"  My  father,  I  wish  to  know  that  secret." 

"  Nothing  is  easier,"  said  the  monk.  "  Only  before  he  dies,  while  he  is  still  a 
free  man,  the  sorcerer  must  take  your  two  hands,  and  blow  three  times  on  your 
hair." 

;'  Let  him  come,"  exclaimed  the  queen.     "  Go  and  fetch  him,  father." 
"I  cannot,"  replied  the  capuchin.     "The  king  has  given  the  strictest  orders 
that   that   man   is    not   to   enter  the  castle.      If  he   sets   foot   within    these 


The  Littk  Gray  Man. 


walls,  he  is  a  dead  man.  Do  not  grudge  him  the  few  hours  that  are 
left." 

"  But  the  king  has  forbidden  me  to  go  out  before  to-morrow  evening." 

"  That  is  vexatious,"  said  the  monk.  "  I  see  you  must  give  up  this  priceless 
gift.  Nevertheless  it  would  be  delightful  to  possess  immortal  youth,  always  to 
remain  young  and  beautiful,  and  above  all  to  be  always  beloved." 

"Alas!  my  father,  you  are  quite  right.     The  king's  prohibition  is  the  height 
of  injustice.     But  if  I  were  to  attempt  to  go  out  the  sentinels  would  prevent 
me.     Do  not  look  so  astonished-  this  is  the  way  the  king  treats  me  in   his 
caprice.     I  am  the  most 
unhappy  of    women." 

"  My  heart  bleeds  for 
you  ! "  said  the  capu- 
chin. "  What  tyranny  ! 
How  barbarous !  Poor 
woman !  Well,  madam, 
in  my  opinion  you  ought 
not  to  yield  to  such  un- 
reasonableness ;  your 
duty  is  to  do  as  you 
like." 

"  But  how?  "returned 
the  queen. 

"  There  is  a  way  out 
of  the  difficulty,  if  you 
decide  to  stand  upon 

your  rights.  Get  into  this  sack,  and  I  will  take  you  out  of  the  castle  at  the  risk 
of  my  life.  And  in  fifty  years'  time,  when  you  are  still  as  beautiful  and  youthful 
in  appearance  as  you  are  now,  you  will  congratulate  yourself  on  having  braved 
your  tyrant." 

"  Agreed,"  said  the  queen  ;  "  but  are  you  sure  that  I  am  not  being  led  into  a 
trap  ?  " 

"  Madam,"  said  the  holy  man,  raising  his  arms  and  striking  his  breast,  "  as 
true  as  I  am  a  monk,  you  have  nothing  to  fear.  Besides,  as  long  as  the  unhappy 
man  is  with  you,  I  shall  be  there." 

"  And  you  will  bring  me  back  to  the  castle?" 

"  I  swear  it." 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


"With  the  secret?"  added  the  queen. 

"  With  the  secret,"  replied  the  monk.  "  But  if  your  majesty  has  any  scruples, 
let  us  stay  where  we  are,  and  let  the  recipe  die  with  the  man  who  discovered  it, 
unless  he  prefers  to  give  it  to  some  more  trusting  lady." 

For  answer  the  queen  courageously  got  into  the  sack,  the  capuchin  drew  the 
string,  shouldered  the  burden,  and  traversed  the  courtyard  with  measured  steps. 
On  his  way  he  met  the  king,  who  was  making  his  round. 
"  You  have  made  a  good  collection  I  see,"  said  the  king. 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  monk,  "  your  majesty's  charity  is  inexhaustible.  I  am 
afraid  I  have  abused  it.  Perhaps  I  should  do  better  to  leave  the  sack  here  and 

all  that  it  contains." 

"  No,  no,"  said  the 
king;  "take  it  all, 
father,  and  good  rid- 
dance. I  do  not  imagine 
that  all  you  have  got 
there  is  worth  much. 
You  will  have  a  poor 


feast." 

"  May  your  majesty 
sup  with  as  good  an 
appetite  as  I  shall,"  re- 
turned the  monk,  in  a 
fatherly  tone  ;  and  he 
passed  on,  mumbling 

some    indistinguishable 
words,  probably  an  ave. 

The  bell  sounded  for  supper,  and  the  king  entered  the  hall  rubbing  his  hands, 
-e  was  pleased  with  himself,  and  in  hopes  of  having  his  revenge,  two  reasons  for 
a  good  appetite. 

"The  queen  not  down  yet?"  he  inquired,  in  an  ironical  voice.  «I  am  not 
Surprised.  Ladies  are  famed  for  their  unpunctuality." 

He  was  seating  himself  at  the  table,  when  three  soldiers  with  crossed  halberds 
pushed  into  the  hall  the  little  man  in  gray. 

"  Sire,"  said  one  of  the  guards,  «  this  rascal  has  had  the  audacity  to  enter  the 

courtyard  of  the  castle,  notwithstanding  the  royal  prohibition.     We  would  have 

anged  him  on  the  spot  without  interrupting  your  majesty  at  supper,  but  he  pre. 


The  Little  Gray  Man.  73 

tends  that  he  has  a  message  from  the  queen,  and  that  he  is  the  bearer  of  a  state 
secret." 

"  The  queen  ! "  exclaimed  the  king,  thunderstruck.  "  Where  is  she  ?  Wretch ! 
what  have  you  done !  " 

"  I  have  stolen  her,"  said  the  little  man,  coolly. 

"  And  how  ?  "  said  the  king. 

"  Sire,  the  capuchin  who  had  such  a  big  sack  on  his  back,  and  to  whom  your 
majesty  condescended  to  say  '  Take  it  all,  and  good  riddance  ! '  " 

"  That  was  you  !  "  exclaimed  the  king  ;  "  but  in  that  case,  you  scoundrel,  I  my- 
self am  in  danger.  One  of  these  days  you  will  be  stealing  me,  and  my  kingdom 
into  the  bargain." 

"  Sire,  I  have  something  yet  to  request  of  you." 

"  You  alarm  me,"  said  the  king.  "  Who  are  you,  then  ?  A  wizard,  or  the  devil 
himself?" 

"  No,  sire  ;  I  am  only  the  Prince  of  Holar.  You  have  a  marriageable  daughter, 
and  I  had  just  requested  her  hand  of  you  when  stress  of  weather  obliged  me, 
with  my  equerry,  to  take  shelter  at  the  house  of  the  vicar  of  Skalholt.  There 
chance  threw  in  my  path  a  half-witted  peasant,  and  made  me  play  the  part  you 
know  of.  As  for  the  rest,  all  that  I  have  done  has  been  only  with  the  wish  to 
obey  and  please  your  majesty." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  king,  "  I  understand,  or  rather  I  do  not  understand. 
No  matter,  prince,  I  prefer  to  have  you  for  a  son-in-law  rather  than  a  neighbor. 
As  soon  as  the  queen  comes " 

"  Sire,  she  is  here.     My  equerry  has  attended  her  back  to  the  palace." 

The  queen  soon  entered,  a  little  ashamed  of  her  simpleness,  and  of  being  so 
easily  taken  in,  but  was  quickly  consoled  on  hearing  that  she  was  to  have  such  a 
clever  man  for  a  son-in-law. 

"What  is  the  famous  secret?"  whispered  she  to  the  Prince  of  Holar;  "you 
owe  it  me." 

"  The  true  secret  of  preserving  beauty  for  ever,"  said  the  prince,  "  is  to  be  for- 
ever  beloved." 

"  And  the  way  to  be  ever  beloved  ?  "  asked  the  queen. 

"  Is  to  be  ever  good  and  guileless,"  replied  the  prince,  "  and  to  carry  out  your 
husband's  wishes." 

"  He  dares  call  himself  a  sorcerer!"  cried  the  queen  indignantly,  raising  her 
hands  to  heaven. 

"  Let  us  have  done  with  these  mysterious  whisperings,"  said  the  king,  who  was 


74  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

already  beginning  to  feel  alarmed.  "  Prince,  when  you  .are  our  son-in-law,  you 
will  have  more  time  than  you  will  care  for  in  which  to  talk  to  your  mother-in-law. 
Supper  is  getting  cold.  Let  us  come  to  table  !  We  will  devote  this  evening  to 
pleasure  only.  You  must  amuse  yourself,  son-in-law,  for  to-morrow  is  your 
marriage-day." 

After  making  this  remark,  which  he  thought  rather  clever,  the  king  looked  at 
the  queen,  but  her  face  wore  an  expression  which  made  him  instantly  rub  his  chin 
thoughtfully,  and  watch  the  flies  wheeling  about  in  close  vicinity  to  the  ceiling. 


So  terminates  the  Prince  of  Holar's  adventures.  Happy  days  have  no  history. 
We  know,  however,  that  he  succeeded  his  father-in-law  to  the  throne,  and  that  he 
became  a  great  king.  Something  of  a  liar,  and  something  of  a  thief,  bold  and 
crafty  in  character,  he  possessed  the  qualities  so  necessary  to  a  conqueror.  He 
filched  from  his  neighbors  more  than  a  thousand  acres  of  snow  which  he  lost  and 
reconquered  three  times  over,  sacrificing  in  the  transaction  six  armies.  His  name 
also  figures  gloriously  in  the  illustrious  annals  of  Skalholt  and  Holar.  To  any  of 
which  famous  records  we  refer  the  reader  who  wishes  to  learn  more  about  Prince 
Holar  or  the  Little  Gray  Man. 


THE  FLEECE  OF  GOLD. 


A  SERVIAN  STORY. 


I  LOVE  the  Servians  ;  they  are  a  race  of  braves ;  they  recall  to  me  the  heroes 
of  Homer.  The  songs  of  their  wars  are  epic  poems  ;  their  stories  have  the 
freshness  and  grace  of  the  wonderful  romances  of  the  Orient.  Here,  for  instance, 
is  one  of  the  most  celebrated,  which  an  old  spinning  woman  related  not  long 
since  to  Vonk  Stepanovitch. 

At  Kronjevatz  there  was  once  a  hunter  known  by  the  name  of  Ivan  Lazar£- 
vitch.  He  was  the  king  of  the  mountains.  Although  he  had  only  a  small  house 
surrounded  by  an  orchard,  he  lived  there  in  happiness  and  plenty  with  his  wife 
and  child.  His  bees  gave  him  honey,  his  plum  trees  the  best  brandy  in  the  land, 
and,  thanks  to  his  rifle,  his  table  never  lacked  game.  The  rich  have  fields,  mines, 
and  treasures.  lanko  had  his  in  the  forest.  Hares,  roebucks,  and  stags  belonged 
to  him  for  ten  miles  round,  and  when  one  wanted  a  beautiful  bear's  skin  or  a 
handsome  skin  of  a  fox  at  Belgrade,  Pest,  or  Constantinople,  they  wrote  to 
lanko,  the  hunter  of  Kronjevatz. 

Happiness  is  like  the  flower  of  the  field,  it  fades  in  a  morning.  One  beautiful 
night  in  autumn,  lanko  was  lying  low  in  wait  for  his  game,  when  he  perceived  in 
the  distance  a  strange  light.  The  trees  of  the  forest  grew  clear  one  after 
another,  as  if  in  the  light  of  a  furnace,  then  they  became  dark  again,  as  the 
light  advanced  always.  At  the  same  time  he  heard  the  noise  of  a  heavy  tread 
on  the  earth  and  the  crashing  of  branches.  To  leave  his  refuge  and  run  to  find 
out  all  about  it,  was  for  lanko  the  work  of  an  instant.  All  at  once  there  sprang 
out  from  the  wood  an  enormous  ram,  whose  eyes  darted  flames,  and  whose  fleece 


*6  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

sparkled  like  the  rays  of  the  sun.  lanko  took  his  carabine,  but  quicker  than 
lightning  the  animal  turned  on  him  and  threw  him  down. 

The  next  day  at  dawn,  some  wood-cutters,  who  were  on  their  way  to  theit 
wood  yard,  found  the  poor  hunter  extended  on  the  earth  and  already  cold  in 
death.  He  had  two  deep  wounds  in  his  breast,  from  which  had  escaped  his  life 
blood.  The  wood-cutters  bore  into  the  village  the  body  of  their  brave  comrade  ; 
he  was  buried,  and  all  was  finished.  In  the  happy  home  which  lanko  had  made 
echo  with  his  joyous  songs,  there  was  only  heard  the  groans  of  the  widow  and 
the  sobs  of  a  child. 

Glad  or  sorrowful,  the  years  pass,  carrying  with  them  our  sorrow  or  our  joy. 
As  Stoian.  the  son  of  lanko,  became  a  man,  his  first  desire  was  the  chase.  He 
had  in  his  veins  the  blood  of  his  father,  and,  as  a  child,  his  greatest  joy  had  been 
to  touch  the  carabine  of  the  hunter  that  hung  on  the  wall.  But  the  day  when  he 
asked  his  mother  to  give  him  this  unlucky  weapon  and  let  him  go  into  the  forest, 
the  poor  woman  began  to  weep. 

"  No,  no,  my  child ;  on  no  account  would  I  give  you  this  weapon.  I  have 
already  lost  my  husband.  Do  you  wish  that  I  should  lose  my  son  ?  " 

Stoian  was  silent,  and  embraced  his  mother,  but  the  next  day  he  returned  to 
the  charge.  He  was  so  tender  and  so  caressing,  he  promised  to  be  so  prudent, 
that  she  finished  by  yielding. 

Early  in  the  morning,  Stoian,  intoxicated  with  joy,  hastened  to  the  mountains. 
He  hunted  all  day,  and  in  the  evening  he  placed  himself  in  the  very  spot  where 
his  father  had  been  found  dead. 

The  night  was  dark.  The  young  hunter  was  tired  and  fell  asleep  in  spite  of 
himself,  when  a  great  noise  woke  him.  He  saw  the  trees  of  the  forest 
illumined  one  after  another,  as  if  by  a  furnace  fire ;  he  heard  the  tread  on  the 
earth  and  the  crash  of  broken  branches.  Without  quitting  his  shelter,  Stoian 
took  his  gun  and  recommended  himself  to  God.  All  at  once  there  sprang  from 
the  woods  an  enormous  ram,  with  flames  darting  from  his  eyes  aid  his  fleece 
sparkling  like  the  rays  of  the  sun. 

"  Stoian ! "  he  cried,  "  I  have  killed  your  father,  and  I  am  going  to  kill  you." 

"  Not  yet,"  cried  the  young  man,  "  with  the  help  of  God  it  is  I  who  will  kill  you." 

His  aim  was  so  exact,  that  the  animal,  struck  between  his  two  eyes,  made  one 
bound  and  fell  as  if  by  a  thunderbolt. 

Stoian  threw  himself  on  the  beast  and  bled  him  and  commenced  to  cut  him 
up.  Then  appeared,  all  at  once,  at  his  side,  a  grand  looking  woman,  with  black 
hair  and  green  eyes.  This  was  Vila,  the  fairy  of  the  forests. 


The  Fleece  of  Gold.  77 

"  Stoian,"  she  said,  "  you  have  delivered  me  from  an  enemy ;  take  my  hand 
I  am  your  sister.  When  you  have  need  of  aid,  call  on  me." 

The  young  hunter  thanked  the  lady,  and  descended  to  Kronjevatz,  proud  and 
happy  at  his  hunt.  Hung  on  the  wall,  the  fleece  of  the  ram  illumined  the  whole 
room.  All  in  the  province  came  to  admire  it,  and  Stoian  was  proclaimed  king 
of  the  mountains,  as  his  father  had  been.  There  was  not  a  young  girl  who  did 
not  smile  on  him  as  he  passed  by. 

At  this  time  the  Turks  were  at  war  with  Servia.  Reschid,  the  pashaw  of  Bel- 
grade, was  an  old  janizary  who,  perhaps,  had  been  brave  in  his  day,  but  he  was 
now  only  a  fat,  conceited  old  man,  who  spent  his  life  in  smoking,  drinking,  and 
eating.  To  govern  a  people  whose  language,  religion,  and  manners  he  despised, 
he  had  near  him  a  renegade  who  had  come  from  no  one  knew  where ;  one  of 
those  miscreants,  without  faith  or  law,  who  live  only  by  theft  and  crime.  Yacob 
was  the  name  of  this  honest  man,  and  he  had  a  low  brow,  a  nose  crooked  as  the 
beak  of  an  eagle,  and  ten  fingers  more  crooked  than  his  nose.  Of  all  the  words 
in  his  language,  that  which  he  knew  best  was  the  verb  "  to  take."  He  could 
conjugate  that  in  all  its  moods  and  tenses.  As  to  the  verb- "to  give  back,"  he 
ignored  it. 

It  is  said  in  a  common  proverb,  that  a  Turk  makes  more  havoc  than  six 
wolves,  and  that  a  renegade,  in  this  respect,  is  worth  six  Turks.  Yacob  did  not 
prove  this  proverb  a  lie.  One  day  Reschid  had  come  to  hunt  in  the  mountains, 
and  Yacob,  according  to  his  custom,  went  to  work  to  collect  the  tax  for  his  profit. 
We  will  say,  to  do  him  justice,  that  he  did  give  something  to  his  master,  who 
gave  nothing  to  the  Sultan. 

On  entering  the  house  of  Stoian,  he  was  astounded  at  the  golden  fleece.  His 
eyes  shone  with  covetousness,  his  hands  contracted. 

"  My  son, "he  said  to  the  young  hunter,  "this  is  an  admirable  fleece.  The 
pashaw  ought  to  know  all  the  beasts  in  his  forest.  Go  and  take  him  the  fleece  of 
this  ram.  It  belongs  to  him." 

"  The  fleece  is  mine,"  said  Stoian.     "  I  do  not  wish  to  give  it  to  any  one." 

"Who  talked  of  giving?"  said  Yacob.  "With  the  great  ones  of  the  earth  all 
is  exchange.  The  pashaw,  my  master  and  yours,  is  too  generous  to  rest  under  an 
fobligation." 

"  I  shall  not  sell  it ;  I  shall  keep  it,"  answered  Stoian. 

"  Weigh  your  words,  young  man,"  said  Yacob,  with  a  frown.  "  Pride  carries 
misfortune,  and  the  pashaw  has  a  long  arm.  I  wish  this  fleece,  and  I  will  have  it." 

For  an  answer  Stoian  cocked  his  gun  and  showed  the  renegade  the  door. 


78  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself,  my  son,"  said  Yacob,  making  a  rapid  exit.  "  Perhaps 
you  will  regret  not  following  my  advice  some  day." 

Re-entering  the  palace,  the  renegade  found  Reschid,  who  was  drinking  a  glass- 
ful of  the  white  wine  of  Semendria. 

"Taste  this  wine,"  he  said  to  Yacob.  "  If  the  cadis  tasted  such,  they  would 
change  their  Koran  for  a  bottle." 

"  The  flavor  is  excellent,"  answered  Yacob,  "  but  it  is  not  equal  to  the  white 
wine  I  have  drunk  in  Smyrna.  It  is  true  that  the  pashaw  there  owns  a  vine  that 
gives  grapes  that  cannot  be  equaled." 

"  He  is  very  happy,"  said  Reschid,  going  on  with  his  drinking. 

"  What  prevents  your  being  as  happy  ?  "  said  Yacob.  "  There  is  in  this  country 
a  certain  Stoian,  a  sort  of  sorcerer,  who  in  eight  days  can  plant  a  vine  and  raise 
you  just  such  grapes.  But  perhaps  he  would  make  conditions." 

"  Conditions ! "  cried  the  Turk,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  What  if  one  should 
send  him  a  janizary  and  declare  to  him  that  if  I  did  not  have,  in  eight  days,  a 
wine  as  beautiful  as  that  in  Smyrna,  and  grapes  just  as  fine,  I  would  have  his  head 
chopped  off,  eh  ?  !' 

"  There  is  nothing  to  answer  to  such  an  argument,"  said  Yacob,  with  a  great 
laugh,  and  he  added,  in  a  low  voice,  "  The  golden  fleece  is  mine." 

When  Stoian  heard  the  sorrowful  news,  he  began  to  weep. 

"  Alas  !  my  mother,  we  are  lost." 

"  My  son,"  said  the  poor  woman,  "  did  I  not  say  that  this  gun  would  cost  you 
your  life,  as  it  has  cost  the  life  of  your  father  ?  " 

In  despair  the  young  man  went  out,  walking  without  aim  he  cared  not  whither. 
At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  a  young  girl  passed  him. 

"  Brother,"  she  said,  "  why  do  you  weep  ?  " 

"  God  keep  you,"  answered  Stoian,  brusquely,  "  you  can  do  nothing  to  help 
me." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  answered  she  ;  "  one  finds  out  friends  by  proving  them." 

The  hunter  raised  his  head  and  recognized  Vila,  the  fairy  of  the  mountain. 
He  threw  himself  weeping  into  her  arms,  and  told  her  all  the  vileness  of  Yacob 
and  the  folly  of  the  pashaw. 

"Is  that  all?"  said  the  fairy.  «  Take  courage,  my  brother,  I'll  help  you.  Go 
the  pashaw  and  ask  him  where  he  wishes  the  vine  planted.  Tell  him  that  it  is 
necessary  to  dig  the  furrows.  Take  then  a  sprig  of  basilica,  plant  it  in  the  turf, 
and  sleep  tranquilly.  Before  eight  days  you  will  pick  ripe  grapes  ?  " 

Stoian  did  as  Vila  commanded.     On  the  first  day  he  planted  a  sprig  of  basilica ; 


The  Fleece  of  Gold.  79 

but  he  had  not  much  confidence  in  the  promises  of  the  fairy,  and  he  went  to  sleep 
with  a  full  heart.  Rising  before  the  sun,  he  ran  to  the  first  furrow.  The  roots 
commenced  to  pierce  the  earth.  The  second  day  they  had  grown  much  more,  the 
third  the  leaves  opened,  the  fourth  the  vines  bloomed.  On  the  sixth  day,  though 
it  was  yet  spring-time,  the  grapes  were  golden.  Stoian  picked  and  pressed  them, 
and  carried  to  his  terrible  master  a  flask  of  sweet  wine  and  a  plate  of  ripe  grapes. 
At  view  of  this  marvelous  vintage  all  were  astonished  except  the  pashaw,  who 
found  the  thing  very  natural,  and  did  not  even  thank  poor  Stoian.  Nothing  is 
more  easy,  says  the  proverb,  than  to  catch  serpents  by  the  hand  of  another. 

"  Eh,  well,"  said  Reschid  to  Yacob,  "  what  do  you  think  of  my  power?  I  am 
not  a  sorcerer,  I  pride  myself.  When  one  has  a  sword  in  the  hand  one  needs  to 
know  nothing  and  to  have  nothing ;  the  gold  and  the  wisdom  of  others  are  all 
yours." 

"  I  admire  the  genius  of  your  highness,"  said  Yacob,  with  a  low  bow,  "so  I 
hope  the  work  will  not  be  left  unfinished." 

"What  is  wanting  to  my  vine?"  demanded  Reschid,  with  a  discontented  air. 

"  There  is  needed  the  tower  of  ivory  which  at  Smyrna  excites  the  admiration 
of  believers  and  the  despair  of  infidels." 

"  Only  that,"  said  the  pashaw,  laughing.  "  Approach,  young  man.  If  in  a  month 
I  have  not  a  tower  of  ivory  like  the  one  in  Smyrna  I  will  cut  off  your  head. 
You  have  heard.  Obey." 

Stoian  ran  to  his  mother  in  tears. 

"  Alas  !  my  mother,  we  are  lost." 

"  Go,  my  son,  run  to  the  mountains.  Perhaps  you  will  find  there  our  protectress 
and  friend." 

The  young  man  ran  to  the  mountains  and  called  the  fairy  three  times.  She 
came  to  him,  with  a  smiling  air,  and  listened  to  him  with  tenderness. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  she  said.  "  Courage,  my  brother !  Count  on  me.  Go  to  the 
pashaw,  demand  of  him  a  vessel,  three  hundred  hogsheads  of  wine,  two  hundred 
measures  of  brandy  and  a  dozen  carpenters.  Once  embarked,  sail  straight  on. 
When  you  come  between  two  mountains,  disembark,  empty  the  tank  you  will 
see  before  you,  and  fill  it  up  with  the  wine  and  brandy.  When  the  elephants 
come  there  in  the  evening  to  quench  their  thirst,  they  will  drink  till  they  fall  dead 
drunk.  The  carpenters  will  saw  off  their  tusks,  and  you  will  soon  have  a  full 
cargo.  Come  back  to  the  vine  with  your  conquest ;  take  with  you  a  sprig  of 
basilica,  and  sleep  tranquilly  in  your  new  garden.  In  eight  days  the  tower  will  be 
finished." 


80  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

Stoian  did  all  as  Vila  commanded.  The  vessel  stopped  between  the  two 
mountains.  They  emptied  the  tank,  and  filled  it  with  wine  and  brandy. 

At  the  break  of  day  the  elephants  came  running  in  a  troop.  The  first  who 
tasted  the  brandy  seemed  astonished,  but  he  returned  to  it  with  a  certain  pleasure, 
and  each  of  the  others  did  the  same.  Then  there  was  a  joy,  a  noise,  a  universal 
tumult.  All  the  elephants  were  on  a  carouse.  In  defiance  of  all  etiquette,  the 
king  of  the  elephants  danced  a  variety  dance,  while  the  queen  waltzed  with  a 
young  courtier.  Then  the  whole  company  fell  in  a  heavy  sleep,  and  the  carpenters 
coii  Tienced  their  work.  Do  not  blush  for  your  misbehavior,  good  elephants,  you 
are  not  the  first  who  have  been  robbed  in  intoxication,  and  you  will  not  be  the  last. 

On  returning  to  his  country,  Stoian  arranged  in  the  garden  this  enormous  mass  of 
ivory.  Concealed  behind  a  wall,  Yacob  spied  the  young  hunter  to  find  out  his 
secrfet.  But  Stoian  passed  the  whole  day  in  singing  plaintive  songs  and  playing 
on  the  guitar.  When  night  cast  its  veil  on  the  earth,  nothing  was  done.  Yacob 
retired,  rubbing  his  hands.  "  He  is  lost,"  he  said,  "  the  fleece  of  gold  is  mine." 

But  on  the  morrow  the  tower  of  ivory  left  the  ground  ;  the  second  day,  it  had 
mounted  to  the.  first  story.  The  sixth,  it  was  finished,  with  its  dome  and  minarets. 

For  ten  miles  round  it  was  seen  shining  in  the  sun,  whiter  than  the  sea  lit  by  a 
silvery  moon. 

At  view  of  this  marvelous  edifice  every  one  was  astonished  except  the  pashaw, 
who  found  the  whole  thing  quite  natural,  and  did  not  even  thank  the  poor  Stoian. 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  he  to  Yacob,  toying  with  the  handle  of  his  poniard,  "  what 
do  you  think  of  my  power?  " 

"  I  admire  the  genius  of  your  highness,"  answered  Yacob,  bowing.  "  I  hope 
the  work  will  not  be  left  incomplete." 

"  Is  there  any  thing  wanting  in  my  ivory  tower?"  demanded  Reschid,  with  a 
discontented  air. 

"  The  Princess  of  India  is  lacking,"  said  Yacob.  "Of  what  use  is  the  tower 
of  ivory  if  it  does  not  inclose  the  most  beautiful  of  creatures?  " 

"You  are  right,"  answered  the  pashaw,  "  it  is  the  bird  who  makes  the  cage 
valuable.  Draw  near,  young  man,"  said  he  to  Stoian.  «  Go  search  for  the  Prin- 
cess of  India.  If  you  come  back  without  her,  I  will  have  your  head  taken  off. 
You  hear  me  ;  obey ! " 

Stoian  ran  to  his  mother,  weeping. 
Alas,  my  mother,  we  are  lost !    You  will  never  see  your  child  again." 

m°Untain'     PerhaPs  ^  wil1  fi*d  there  our  protect- 


Tlie  Fleece  of  Gold.  8 1 

The  young  man  ran  to  the  mountain  and  called  the  fairy  three  times.  She 
came  with  a  smiling  air,  and  listened  to  him  with  tenderness. 

'*  Is  that  all?"  said  she.  "  Have  courage,  my  brother.  I  will  help  you.  Go  find 
the  pashaw,  and  demand  a  great  fleet.  In  the  vessels  establish  a  dozen  beautiful 
shops,  and  put  in  them  the  stuffs  and  the  jewels  that  one  sees  only  in  the  bazars 
of  Constantinople.  In  these  shops  install,  as  merchants,  a  dozen  of  the  hand- 
somest young  men  of  Servia,  and  dress  them  as  princes.  Then  go  on,  and  when 
the  vessels  stop  between  two  mountains,  you  may  land.  You  will  be  in  the  king- 
dom of  India.  There,  take  your  guitar  and  sing,  with  your  companions,  and 
when  the  daughters  of  the  land  come  to  the  fountain,  invite  them  to  look  at  the 
wealth  of  your  fleet.  Make  them  presents,  and  they  will  be  charmed  with  your 
generosity.  When  they  go  back  they  will  say,  '  There  has  never  been  seen  such 
a  beautiful  fleet,  more  rich  treasures,  or  more  amiable  merchants.'  Being  a 
woman  and  a  princess,  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  India  will  be  doubly  curious. 
She  will  come  to  see  you ;  amuse  her  all  day,  but  as  soon  as  night  comes,  lift 
anchor  and  spread  sail.  When  the  princess  is  on  your  vessel  all  is  not  done. 
For  she  can  work  magic  and  can  lead  you  into  more  than  one  danger.  But  fol- 
low my  counsel,  and  take  courage." 

Saying  this,  the  fairy  approached  a  stream  that  descended  down  the  mountain, 
and  called  a  salmon  that  came  running  to  her.  She  took  off  a  scale,  which  she 
gave  to  Stoian. 

"  Take  this  charm,"  she  said.  "  If  you  ever  have  need  of  any  service  in  the  sea, 
throw  this  scale  in  the  water,  and  call  my  brother,  the  salmon,  to  help  you." 

Then,  raising  her  eyes  to  the  sky,  Vila  saw  a  falcon  who  pursued  a  dove.  She 
whistled,  and  the  two  birds  came  and  perched  on  her  shoulders.  From  the 
falcon's  crest  she  took  a  feather,  and  one  from  the  wing  of  the  dove,  and  gave 
them  to  Stoian. 

"  Take  these  two  charms,"  she  said.  "  If  ever  you  have  need  of  any  service  in 
the  air,  cast  these  plumes  on  the  air,  and  call  my  brother  the  falcon,  and  my  sister 
the  dove,  to  help  you.  And  now,  farewell,  my  brother.  I  have  exhausted  for 
you  the  secrets  of  my  art.  You  will  not  see  me  more." 

Stoian  thanked  his  sister  Vila,  and  did  all  as  she  had  said.  The  vessels  stopped 
between  two  mountains.  The  young  girls  came  to  the  fountains,  they  heard  the 
songs  of  Stoian,  they  went  on  board  and  accepted  the  prettiest  presents  without 
too  much  persuasion,  and  in  the  evening  they  told  all  the  village,  "  There  was 
never  seen  more  beautiful  ships,  richer  treasures,  or  more  amiable  merchants." 

The  next  day  the  Princess  of  India,  with  a  dozen  companions,  came  to  the 


g2  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

bank  in  a  magnificent  palanquin  borne  by  the  gentlest  and  most  beautiful  elephants. 
She  had  a  little  green  parrakeet  on  her  shoulder,  who  delighted  her  with  its 
chatter.  Stoian  came  to  meet  the  lady  and  do  the  honors  of  his  ship.  At 
each  booth  they  displayed  the  richest  stuffs— the  most  rare  and  sparkling  jewelry, 
rings,  bracelets,  necklaces,  diadems.  The  princess  and  her  companions  were 
fascinated.  The  day  passed  before  they  could  tear  themselves  away  from  all  the 
marvels  that  astonished  and  charmed  their  eyes. 

As  soon  as  night  fell  on  the  sea,  Stoian  raised  the  anchor  and  spread  the  sails. 
At  the  first  movement  of  the  vessel  the  princess  was  frightened.  She  sprang  on 
the  deck  and  took  the  parrakeet  on  her  finger. 

"Dear  bird,"  she  said,  "fly  and  tell  my  father  they  are  carrying  off  his  child." 

The  parrakeet  flew  off,  but  Stoian  immediately  threw  on  the  air  the  feather  of 
the  falcon,  crying,  "  My  brother  the  falcon,  come  help  me !  " 

All  at  once  a  black  speck  appeared  in  the  sky.  This  was  a  falcon,  who  cleft 
the  air,  seized  the  parrakeet  and  carried  it  to  a  rock  to  devour. 

The  princess  gave  Stoian  a  disdainful  look,  and  threw  her  ring  in  the  sea. 
All  at  once  the  ship  stopped  as  if  it  had  touched  ground.  In  vain  the  wind 
swept  through  the  sails,  a  concealed  force  held  the  vessel  fast. 

Stoian  threw  into  the  water  the  scale  of  the  salmon  and  cried : 

"  My  brother  the  salmon,  come  and  help  me." 

He  had  not  finished  speaking,  when  they  saw  the  surface  of  the  water  sparkle 
with  the  rich  scales  of  an  enormous  salmon.  Then  the  fish  dived  down  and  took 
the  ring,  and  the  vessel  sped  on  with  full  sails  and  the  most  favorable  winds. 

Then  the  princess  uttered  a  cry  and  ran  to  rejoin  her  companions.  But  the 
next  day  at  dawn  she  came  on  deck  and  said  to  Stoian : 

"  With  one  word  I  can  change  this  fleet  to  stone,  and  you  will  never  see  your 
home  again.  But  if  you  will  get  me  some  of  the  water  of  immortality,  I  am 
ready  to  follow  you  !  Do  you  see  that  rock  below  there,  from  whence  comes  a 
thick  smoke  ?  There  is  a  fountain,  guarded  by  two  dragons  with  nostrils  that 
send  out  rire.  No  one  has  evaded  the  vigilance  of  these  monsters,  who  do  not 
sleep  day  >>r  night.  If  you  succeed  where  all  the  world  has  failed,  and  fill  this 
little  bottle,  you  will  have  no  friend  or  servant  more  devoted  than  I." 

For  all  answer  Stoian  seized  the  flask,  and  casting  the  dove's  feather  on  the 
wind,  said : 

"  My  sister  the  dove,  come  help  me." 

Immediately  a  dove,  white  as  snow,  came  and  perched  on  Stoian's  shoulder. 
She  took  the  flask  in  her  beak,  flew  high  in  the  air,  and  disappeared.  At  the  end 


The  Fleece  of  Gold.  83 

of  an  hour  she  returned  and  drew  it  off  her  wing.  Stoian  could  offer  to  the  prin- 
cess the  water  of  immortality. 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  young  woman,  in  the  most  tender  voice.  "  Now  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  me.  Speak.  Where  are  you  taking  me  ?  " 

"  To  the  pashaw,  my  master,"  answered  Stoian. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  she,  and  dropping  her  veil  over  her  face,  she  went  away.  During 
the  rest  of  the  voyage  she  did  not  speak  to  Stoian. 

When  the  return  of  the  young  hunter  was  known,  it  was  a  great  feast  day  at 
Kronjevatz.  From  the  town  and  the  country  all  came  to  see  the  entrance  of  the 
Princess  of  India.  It  was  a  marvelous  sight.  First  came  the  dozen  companions, 
each  mounted  on  a  black  horse.  One  of  Stoian's  companions  led  each  horse  by 
the  bridle.  No  one  had  ever  seen  any  thing  more  magnificent  than  these  young 
men  with  their  rich  suits,  their  shining  sword-belts,  their  swords  in  scabbards  of 
silver,  their  carabines  inlaid  with  gold.  But  all  was  forgotten  when  they  saw 
Stoian  and  his  captive.  Although  she  was  enveloped  in  a  long  veil,  so  that  only 
two  great  black  eyes  could  be  seen,  the  princess  eclipsed  her  companions  as  the 
moon  surpasses  the  stars.  Her  white  horse  seemed  happy  to  carry  her.  All  the 
men  admired  her  on  the  way,  but  the  women  looked  at  Stoian.  Handsome, 
haughty  and  sad,  he  attracted  all  eyes. 

Entering  the  palace,  where  the  pashaw  awaited  them,  the  stranger  raised  her  veil. 
At  the  view  of  her  marvelous  beauty,  Reschid,  forgetting  his  age,  ran  to  her  with 
tottering  steps  and  wished  to  embrace  her.  But  she  repulsed  him  so  forcibly  that, 
if  the  faithful  Yacob  had  not  been  there,  he  might  have  broken  his  nose  on  the 
ground. 

"  Hollo  !  "  he  said,  "  beautiful  stranger,  have  you  made  me  your  slave  to  treat 
me  in  this  way? " 

"  You  are  ill-bred,"  said  the  princess,  proudly.  "  You  do  not  ask  my  name,  nor 
that  of  my  father.  You  know  neither  who  I  am,  nor  what  I  wish.  Am  I  a  dog, 
or  a  falcon,  that  one  should  seize  me  by  force  ?  You  must  know  that  to  possess 
me  one  must  have  a  two-fold  youth,  that  of  the  body  and  of  the  soul." 

"  I  have  a  very  young  soul,"  said  the  pashaw.  "  As  to  the  body,  I  only  ask  the 
the  best  means  to  rejuvenate  that,  if  but  to  marry  you  and  live  a  long  time  near 
you.  But  the  means!" 

"  I  have  found  the  means,"  said  the  princess.  "  See  here  !  This  flask  contains 
the  water  of  immortality.  You  must  have  your  head  cut  off.  Once  dead,  I  will 
sprinkle  you  with  this  magic  water  and  I  will  make  you  young  and  handsome  as 
at  twenty  years." 


84  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

The  pashaw  made  a  grimace.   Then  looking  around  him  he  saw  Stoian,  and  knit 

his  brows. 

"  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  in  this  marvelous  water;  but  I  would  not  mind  seeing  it 
tried.  Suppose  I  try  it  on  this  handsome  young  fellow,  the  sight  of  whom  dis- 
pleases me,  I  know  not  why.  Come  here,  young  man,  to  rejuvenate  you  they  are 
going  to  cut  off  your  head." 

"  I  am  too  young  to  prove  the  thing,"  said  Stoian,  looking  at  the  lovely  prin- 
cess, "  but  I  do  not  recoil  from  danger.  Of  what  use  is  life  ?  " 

At  a  sign  from  the  pashaw  the  janizary  drew  his  sword  and  cut  off  the  head  of 
the  young  man  at  a  single  stroke.  Every  one  uttered  a  cry  of  terror,  but  the 
princess  sprinkled  the  marvelous  water  on  the  body  which  still  palpitated- 
Stoian  raised  himself  full  of  life  and  health,  and  so  young  and  handsome  that  the 
old  pashaw,  mad  with  jealousy,  cried  out : 

"  Make  me  young,  princess,  and  quick  !  don't  lose  a  moment." 

He  called  a  janizary  and  gave  the  order.  Then  perceiving  Yacob,  who  made 
believe  he  was  weeping,  he  said  : 

"  My  poor  Yacob,  my  faithful  friend,  my  right  arm,  I  cannot  leave  you  old 
when  I  am  going  to  become  young.  Are  we  not  bound  together  ?  No,  my 
friend,  I  am  not  selfish  ;  I  have  need  of  you.  It  is  necessary  that  we  should  grow 
young  together.  They  shall  cut  off  your  head  at  the  same  time." 

At  this  mark  of  friendship  Yacob  grew  pale  as  death.  He  tried  to  speak,  he 
opened  his  mouth,  but  the  signal  was  given,  and  at  the  same  moment  his  head 
rolled  by  the  side  of  the  pashaw's. 

"  Take  away  these  corpses,"  said  the  princess,  coldly,  "and  throw  to  the  dogs 
the  body  of  the  wretch  who  dared  to  treat  me  without  respect." 

At  these  words  every  one  looked  at  each  other.  The  Turks  frowned,  but  the 
Servians  drew  their  swords  and  said,  "  The  princess  is  right.  The  punishment 
has  fallen  where  it  was  deserved.  Evil  to  him  who  does  not  respect  a 
woman." 

And  an  old  Turk  responded :  "  What  is  done  is  done,  no  one  escapes  his 
destiny." 

Peace  once  more  established,  the  princess  said  to  Stoian : 

"You  see  me  now  a  widow  before  being  married.  Will  you  now  take  me  back 
to  my  father?" 

^  Not  yet,"  said  Stoian,  "  it  is  one  of  the  first  rights  of  a  Servian  to  run  away 
with  his  wife,  and  I  have  a  dozen  friends  here  who  are  ready  to  do  the  same." 

"  Stoian,"  said  the  princess,  smiling.     "  You  know  I  don't  like  violence.    What 


The  Fleece  of  Gold.  85 

need  is  there  to  run  away  with  me?  It  is  only  necessary  to  conduct  me  to  your 
mother,  and  to  give  me  a  place  at  your  fireside." 

So  said,  so  done,  and  on  the  same  day  there  were  thirteen  weddings  in  Kron- 
jevatz. 

Reschid  had  more  than  one  successor,  and  there  was  more  than  one  Yacob, 
for  where  there  is  a  pashaw  like  Reschid,  there  will  also  be  flatterers  and  traitors. 
But  experience  is  of  use  to  evil  doers,  and  fear  checks  them.  No  one  disturbed 
Stoian,  and  all  respected  the  Princess  of  India. 

The  house  this  couple  inhabited  may  yet  be  seen,  and  a  stone  over  the  gate  is 
shown  to  the  stranger,  which  is  said  to  have  been  carved  by  Stoian  himself. 
Upon  it  is  a  carabine  crossed  by  a  sword.  Below  is  the  word  which  was  the  joy 
of  Stoian  and  the  terror  of  the  Turks — "  Liberty." 


ZERBINO,  THE  BEAR. 

A  NEAPOLITAN  TALE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  dwelt  at  Salerno  a  young  woodcutter  named  Zer- 
bino.  Poor,  and  an  orphan,  he  had  no  friends,  and  being  of  an  unsociable 
and  taciturn  disposition,  he  never  willingly  opened  his  lips  to  any  one,  nor  did  any 
one  ever  talk  to  him.  Because  he  did  not  trouble  his  head  about  other  people's 
business  they  thought  him  a  fool.  He  was  nicknamed  the  Bear,  and  never  was  a 
name  better  earned.  In  the  morning,  when  the  townsfolk  were  asleep,  he  would 
trudge  off  to  the  mountain-side  shouldering  his  woodman's  ax,  and  stay  the  live- 
long day  by  himself  in  the  forest ;  then,  when  the  sun  went  down,  he  would  return 
home,  dragging  after  him  some  sorry  fagots  with  which  to  pay  for  his  supper. 
When  he  passed  by  the  fountain  where  the  village  maidens  met  every  evening 
to  fill  their  pitchers  and  waste  their  breath  chattering,  they  all  mocked  at  his 
gloomy  face.  Neither  Zerbino's  black  beard  nor  his  bright  eyes  disconcerted 
the  bold-faced  group.  The  chief  amusement  of  these  maidens  was  to  try  and 
provoke  the  poor  fellow  by  their  sneers. 

"  Zerbino,  angelic  Zerbino,  only  say  the  word  and  my  heart  is  yours." 

"  Light  of  my  eyes,"  went  on  another,  "  let  me  hear  the  music  of  your  voice, 
and  I  am  yours." 

"  Zerbino,  Zerbino,"  and  all  these  silly  maidens  took  up  the  cry  and  shouted  in 
chorus,  "  which  of  us  have  you  chosen  for  a  wife  ?  Is  it  I  ?  Is  it  I  ?  Is  it  I  ? 
Which  of  us  will  you  have  ?" 

"The  greatest  chatterbox,"  replied  the  woodcutter,  shaking  his  fist  at 
them;  and  each  immediately  retorted,  "Thanks,  my  good  Zerbino,  thanks." 


Zerbino,    Tke  Bear.  87 

The  shy  woodcutter,  amid  shouts  of  laughter,  used  to  escape  from  his  tor- 
mentors like  a  wild  boar  flying  from  the  hunters,  and,  shutting-to  his  door,  he 
would  sup  on  a  piece  of  bread  and  a  glass  of  water,  and  then,  wrapping  himself 
in  an  old  blanket,  lay  himself  to  rest  upon  the  floor.  Without  any  cares,  regrets, 
or  desires,  he  soon  fell  into  a  dreamless  sleep. 

If  true  happiness  consists  in  not  having  "  feelings,"  Zerbino  was  the  happiest  of 
men. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ONE  day,  tired  out 
with  hacking  at 
an  old  box-tree  which 
was  as  hard  as  a  rock, 
Zerbino  was  about  to 
take  his  siesta  beside  a 
pool  shaded  by  fine 
trees,  when,  to  his  great 
surprise,  he  perceived 
resting  on  the  sward  a 
maiden  of  marvelous 
beauty,  robed  in  swan's 
down.  The  fair  unknown 
was  to  all  appearances 
the  victim  of  a  distressing  dream.  Her  face  wore  a  painful  expression  and  her 
hands  moved  restlessly ;  it  seemed  as  though  she  were  trying  in  vain  to  resist  the 
sleep  which  overpowered  her. 

"As  if  there  is  any  sense,"  exclaimed  Zerbino,  "  in  sleeping  at  midday  with 
the  sun  shining  full  upon  one's  face  !  Women  are  so  foolish !  " 

He  bent  and  interlaced  some  branches  so  as  to  shade  the  stranger's  head,  and 
over  the  natural  arbor  so  formed  he  threw  his  working  jacket.  He  was  just  inter- 
lacing the  last  piece  of  foliage  when  he  descried  a  snake  in  the  grass,  a  couple  of 
paces  from  the  unknown  maiden  ;  it  was  moving  toward  her  and  shooting  out  its 
venomous  tongue  the  while. 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  Zerbino,  "  so  small  and  yet  so  wicked  ! "     And  with  two  blows 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


88 

Of  his  ax  he  cut  the  snake  into  three  pieces,  each  of  which  quivered  visibly,  as  if 
ft  stiU  desired  to  reach  the  fair  stranger.  The  woodcutter  then  with  amovement 
of  h"  tTctsed  tnemtofaU  into  the  pool.  As  they  fell  in  they  made  a  hissing 
noise  more  like  a  red  hot  iron  plunged  into  water  than  any  thing  else 

At'this  noise  the  fairy  awoke,  and  raising  herself  up,  her  eyes  sparkling  with 
ioy,  she  exclaimed,  "  Zerbino  !  Zerbino  ! " 

*  "That  is  my  name,  I  know,"  replied  the  woodcutter,  "but  there  is  no  sort  of 
need  to  call  it  out  so  loud." 

«  What  my  friend,"  said  the  fairy,  "  do  you  not  wish  me  to  thank  you  for  the 
service  you  have  rendered  me  ?     You  have  more  than  saved  my  life." 

"  I  have  not  saved  you  from  any  thing  at  all,"  said  Zerbino,  with  his  usual  bad 

grace.  "Another  time 
do  not  go  to  sleep  upon 
the  grass  without  first 
seeing  whether  there 
are  any  snakes  about, 
that  is  my  advice.  Now, 
good  day.  Let  me  go 
to  sleep  ;  I  have  no 
time  to  waste."  Where- 
upon he  stretched  him- 
self at  full  length  upon 
the  sward  and  closed  his 
eyes. 

"Zerbino,"  said  the 
fairy,  "you  have  asked 
me  no  favor." 

"  I   only  ask  you   to 

leave  me  in  peace.  When  a  man  does  not  want  any  thing  but  what  he  has,  he 
has  all  that  he  wants.  When  a  man  has  what  he  wants,  he  is  content.  Good 
day."  And  the  surly  fellow  began  to  snore. 

"  Poor  boy  !  "  said  the  fairy.  "  Your  soul  sleeps  as  yet ;  but  whatever  you 
may  say  or  do,  I  shall  always  be  grateful  to  you.  If  it  had  not  been  for  you,  I 
should  have  been  changed  into  the  form  of  an  adder  for  a  hundred  years,  so  I 
owe  you  a  hundred  years  of  youth  and  beauty.  How  shall  I  repay  you  ?  I 
know,"  she  added.  "  When  a  man  has  all  that  he  wants  he  is  happy  ;  you  said 
so  yourself.  Well !  my  good  Zerbino,  you  shall  have  every  thing  you  like  and 


Zerbino,    The  Bear.  89 

every  thing  you  want.     Soon  I  hope  you  will  have  reason  to  bless  the  fairy  of  the 
spring." 

She  then  described  three  circles  in  the  air  with  her  hazel  wand,  and  stepped  so 
lightly  into  the  pool  that  not  even  a  ripple  disturbed  its  peaceful  surface.  On 
the  approach  of  their  queen  the  rushes  bent  their  heads  and  the  water-lilies 
bloomed,  opening  their  choicest  buds.  The  trees,  the  sunshine,  and  even  the 
breeze,  every  thing 
smiled  upon  the  fairy 
and  seemed  to  vie  with 
each  other  to  give  her 
pleasure.  She  waved 
her  wand  for  the  last 
time,  and  the  waters, 
on  a  sudden  blazing  to 
their  depths,  divided  to 
receive  their  youthful 
sovereign.  It  seemed 
as  though  a  ray  of  sun- 
light had  pierced  the 
dark  abyss.  Then  every 
thing  relapsed  into 
shadow  and  silence,  and 
naught  was  heard  save 
the  snores  of  Zerbino. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  sun  was 
already  wester- 
ing when  the  woodcutter 
awoke.  He  returned  to 
his  work  quietly  enough, 
and  aimed  a  vigorous 
blow  at  the  trunk  of  the 
tree  the  branches  of  which  he  had  lopped  off  in  the  morning.  His  ax  rung 


QO  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

on  the  wood  without  making  the  slightest  impression  upon  it.  Great  drops  oi 
sweat  stood  on  Zerbino's  forehead  as  he  struck  in  vain  at  the  wretched  tree  that 
persistently  defied  all  his  strength. 

"Ah!  "  exclaimed  he,  as  he  looked  at  his  ax  all  notched  and  blunted,  "what 
a  pity  it  is  that  no  tool  has  ever  been  invented  which  would  cut  through  wood 
just  as  though  it  were  a  pat  of  fresh  butter!  I  wish  I  had  just  such  a  tool,  1 
know." 

He  stepped  back  a  couple  of  paces,  swung  the  ax  over  his 
,head,  and  struck  it  with  such  force  against  the  tree  that  he 
L  almost  fell  with  his  nose  on  the  ground  and  his  arms  well 
.stretched  out  in  front  of  him. 

Per  Baccho  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I    must  be   getting 
.blind  ;  I  have  struck  too  much  to  one  side." 

Zerbino  was  instantly  reassured  upon  this  point, 
for  at  that  moment  the  tree  fell,  and  so  close  to 
that  the  poor  fellow  barely  escaped  being 
^crushed  by  it. 

That  was  a  fine  stroke !  "  he  cried  ;  it 
will  get  me  on  ahead  with  my  work  to- 
day.    How  cleanly  the  trunk  is  cut 
through !  it   looks   as   though    it 
had   been  sawn    in   two.      There 
isn't    another    woodcutter   living 
who   can   do  this  work   like   my 
mother's  son  ! " 

Thereupon  he  gathered  together 
all  the  branches  he  had  lopped  off 
that  morning ;  then,  untying  a  rope 
which  was  wound  round  his  waist, 
he  sat  astride  on  the  fagot  so  as  to 
be  able  to  bind  it  more  firmly  to- 
gether,  and  secured  the  whole 
with  a  slip-knot. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  must  drag  this  all  the  way  to  the  town.  It  is  a  thousand 
pities  that  fagots  have-  not  four  legs  like  horses  !  I  should  canter  gayly  along  into 
Salerno  like  a  fine  cavalier  riding  for  his  pleasure.  I  should  like  just  for  once  in 
a  way  to  show  off  like  that." 


Zerbino,    The  Bear.  9! 

At  these  words  the  fagot  raised  itself  up  and  set  off  at  a  long  swinging  trot. 
Without  evincing  the  least  surprise  the  worthy  Zerbino  allowed  himself  to  be 
carried  off  by  this  novel  kind  of  steed,  and  as  he  rode  along  he  pitied  the  poor 
folk  by  the  way  who  were  obliged  to  trudge  along  on  foot  all  for  want- of  a  fagot 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AT  the  time  of  which 
we  are  speaking 
there  was  a  great  square 
in  the  middle  of  Saler- 
no, and  in  this  square 
stood  the  king's  palace. 
The  king  then  reigning 
was,  as  every  one  knows, 
the  famous  Moucha- 
miel,  whose  name  has 
been  immortalized  in 
history.  Every  after- 
noon the  king's  daugh- 
ter, Princess  Aleli,  was 
to  be  seen  sitting  in  a 
melancholy  attitude  in 
the  balcony.  In  vain  her  attendants  tried  to  amuse  her  by  their  songs,  their 
tales  and  their  flattering  tongues.  Aleli  paid  no  heed  to  them.  For  three  years 
the  king  her  father  had  wished  to  marry  her  to  each  of  the  great  barons  in 
the  vicinity  one  after  the  other,  and  for  three  years  the  princess  had  refused 
every  suitor  who  had  presented  himself.  Salerno  was  to  be  her  dowry,  and  she 
felt  this  was  the  bait  that  drew  them,  and  that  she  was  not  loved  for  her  own  sake. 

Of  an  earnest  and  serious  disposition,  Aleli  was  lacking  both  in  ambition  and 

vanity.     She  did  not  laugh  with  the  idea  of  showing  off  her  pearly  teeth  to 

'  proper  advantage  ;  she  was  a  good  listener,  and  never  spoke  unless  she  had  some- 

thing  to  say.     This  disease,  a  rare  one  among  ladies  of  fashion,  was  the  despal! 

of  the  court  physicians. 

On  the  day  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  Aleli  was  even  more  dreamy  than 
usual,  when  suddenly  Zerbino  galloped  into  the  square,  riding  his  fagot  with  aU 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


the  dignity  of  an  emperor.     At  this  novel  sight  the  two  ladies  in  waiting  on  the 
princess  laughed  immoderately,  and  as  they  had  some  oranges  at  hand,  they 

pelted  the  strange  cavalier  with  the  fruit. 

"  Laugh  on,  my  fine  ladies/'  he  cried,  point- 
ing at  them  with  his  finger,  "  and  may  you 
laugh  till  your  teeth  are  worn  down  to  the 
gums.  That  is  Zerbino's  wish  for  you." 

And  then  and  there  the  two  ladies  in  waiting 
went  out  of  the  royal  presence  laughing  fit  to 
split  their  sides,  and  nothing  could  stop  them. 
The  threats  of  the  woodcutter,  and  the  com- 
mands of  the  princess,  who  was  sorry  for  the 
poor  man,  were  alike  unavailing. 

"  A  kindhearted  little  woman,"  said  Zerbino, 
looking  at  Aleli,  "  with  a  gentle  and  melancholy 
mien !  As  for  you,  I  wish  you  every  happiness. 
May  you  love  the  first  man  who  makes  you 
laugh,  and  marry  him  into  the  bargain  !  " 

Whereupon  he  pulled  his  front  lock  and  took 
leave  of  the  princess  in  the  most  graceful 
manner  possible. 

As  a  general  rule,  when  a  person  is  riding  a 
fagot  it  is  better  for  him  not  to  attempt  to  salute 
any  body,  not  even  a  queen ;  but  this  Zerbino  for- 
got, so  evil  befell  him.  To  make  his  bow  to 
the  princess  he  let  go  the  rope  which  held  the 
branches  together  in  a  bundle,  whereupon  the 
fagot  fell  apart,  and  our  friend  Zerbino  fell 
backward  with  his  legs  in  the  air  in  the  most 
ridiculous  manner  possible.  He  turned  a 
wonderful  somersault  by  a  vigorous  effort,  carry- 
ing with  him  a  quantity  of  foliage,  and  crowned 
like  a  sylvan  god  he  rolled  over  another  ten 
paces. 

How  is  it  that  when  any  one  falls  down  at 
the  risk  of  breaking  his  neck  every  body  laughs  ?  I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell  It  is  a 
mystery  that  as  yet  philosophers  have  not  been  able  to  solve.  All  I  know  is 


Zerbino,    The  Bear. 


93 


that  every  one  laughed  at  that  moment,  the  Princess  Aleli  as  much  as  any  one. 
But  all  at  once  she  rose  from  her  seat,  and  gazing  earnestly  at  Zerbino  she  placed 
her  hand  to  her  heart  and  to  her  brow,  and  entered  the  palace,  agitated  by  some 
emotion  unknown  to  her  hitherto.  In  the  meantime,  Zerbino  gathered  the 
scattered  branches  together,  and  went  home  on  foot  like  any  ordinary  woodcutter. 
Prosperity  had  not  dazzled  him,  and  his  late  mishap  did  not  disconcert  him  in 
the  least.  He  had  got  through  a  good  day's  work,  and  that  was  enough  for  him. 
He  purchased  an  excellent  buffalo  cheese,  as  hard  and  as  white  as  marble,  cut 
himself  a  great  slice  out  of  it,  and  supped  with  a  capital  appetite.  The  simple 
fellow  had  no  idea  what  mischief  he  had  done,  nor  what  commotion  he  had  left 
behind  him. 


CHAPTER  V. 

WHILE  these  im- 
portant events 
were  taking  place,  the 
great  clock  in  the  tower 
of  Salerno  struck  four. 

It  was  a  blazing  hot 
day,  and  silence  reigned 
in  the  streets.  In  the 
retirement  of  his  cham- 
ber, away  from  the  heat 

and    noise,  King  Mouchamiel'  was  meditating  on  the  welfare  of  his  people— in 
other  words,  he  slept. 

All  at  once  he  awoke  with  a  start :  a  pair  of  arms  were  round  his  neck,  and 
scalding  tears  were  falling  on  his  face.  It  was  the  lovely  Aleli,  who  was  fondly 
embracing  her  father  in  a  paroxysm  of  affection. 

"  What  is  all  this  about  ?  "  said  the  king,  surprised  at  this  vast  increase  < 
affection.     "  You  kiss  me,  and  you  weep.     Ah,  true  daughter  of  your  mother, 
you  wish  me  to  do  something  for  you  !     Say,  is  it  not  so?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  my  dear  father,"  said  Aleli.  «  Your  obedient  daughter  is 
willing  to  do  as  you  wish.  The  son-in-law  you  have  desired  so  long  I  have  found 
at  last,  and  to  please  you  I  am  ready  to  give  him  my  hand." 


94  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

"Very  good,"  replied  Mouchamiel;  "we  have  done  with  whims  at  last,  have 
we?  Whom  are  you  going  to  marry?  The  Prince  of  Cava?  No?  Then  it 
must  be  the  Count  of  Capri  ?  The  Marquis  of  Sorrento  ?  No  ?  Then  whom 
is  it  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  dear  father." 

"  How  is  this  ?    You  do  not  know  ?    You  must  have  seen  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  just  now  in  the  public  square,"  answered  Aleli. 

"  And  he  addressed  you  ?  " 

"  No,  father.  Is  there  any  need  of  speech  when  two  hearts  understand  one 
another?" 

Mouchamiel  made  a  very  wry  face,  scratched  his  ear,  and  staring  his  daughter 
full  in  the  face — 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  he,  "  it  is  a  prince  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  father.     What  does  it  matter  ?  " 

"  It  matters  very  considerably,  my  daughter.  You  do  not  understand  politics. 
That  you  should  of  your  own  free  will  choose  a  son-in-law  that  I  like  is  wonder- 
ful. As  a  king  and  a  father  I  shall  never  cross  your  wishes  if  they  agree  with 
mine.  Otherwise  I  have  duties  to  perform  toward  my  family  and  my  subjects, 
and  I  require  that  my  orders  shall  be  obeyed.  Where  dwells  this  fine  bird  of 
whose  name  you  plead  ignorance,  and  with  whom  you  have  exchanged  no  words, 
and  yet  who  adores  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  Aleli. 

"This  is  too  much  !  "  exclaimed  Mouchamiel.  "  And  is  it  to  tell  me  this  tom- 
foolery that  you  come  and  take  up  the  time  that  belongs  to  my  people  ?  Here,  my 
lords,  let  the  princess's  ladies  be  called  to  lead  her  back  to  her  own  apartments." 

On  hearing  these  words,  Aleli  raised  her  hands  to  heaven  and  melted  into  tears. 
Then  she  fell  at  the  king's  feet,  sobbing.  At  the  same  moment  the  two  ladies  of 
her  suite  entered  the  apartment,  convulsed  with  laughter. 

"  Silence,  women,  silence !  "  cried  Mouchamiel,  indignant  at  the  breach  of 
etiquette.  "  Guards,"  said  the  king,  beside  himself,  "  let  these  insolent  attend- 
ants be  arrested,  and  their  heads  struck  off.  I  will  teach  them  that  there  is 
nothing  on  earth  less  laughable  than  a  king." 

"  Sire,"  said  Aleli,  clasping  her  hands  together,  "  remember  you  have  made 
your  reign  illustrious  by  abolishing  capital  punishment." 

"You  are  right,  my  daughter.  We  are  a  civilized  nation.  These  ladies  shall 
be  spared  ;  we  shall  be  content  to  treat  them  in  Russian  fashion.  Let  them  be 
beaten  till  they  die  a  natural  death." 


Zerbino,  the  Bear,  95 

"  Have  mercy,  father ! "  said  Aleli.     "  It  is  I,  your  daughter,  who  craves  you 

to  have  mercy." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  then,  stop  them  laughing,  and  rid  me  of  them,"  said  the 
worthy  Mouchamiel.  "  Take  the  fools  away,  and  let  them  be  shut  up  in  some 
cell  until  they  die  of  silence  and  ennui." 

"  Oh,  father !  "  sobbed  Aleli. 

"  Come,"  said  the  king,  "  let  them  be  married  then,  and  let  us  have  done 
with  it." 

"  Have  mercy,  sire,  we  will  laugh  no  more,"  cried  the  two  ladies,  falling  on 
their  knees,  and  opening  their  mouths,  where  there  was  nothing  now  to  be  seen 
but  toothless  gums.  "Oh  that  your  majesty  would  pardon  us  and  avenge  us! 
We  are  the  victims  of  an  infernal  art ;  a  wicked  monster  has  bewitched  us." 

"  A  sorcerer  in  my  kingdom !  "  said  the  king,  who  was  a  skeptic  in  such 
matters ;  "  it  is  impossible.  Such  a  thing  cannot  be,  because  I  do  not  believe  in 
sorcerers." 

"  Sire,"  said  one  of  the  ladies,  "  is  it  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  nature  that 
a  fagot  should  trot  like  a  horse  and  amble  under  the  guidance  of  a  woodcutter? 
That  is  what  we  have  just  witnessed  in  the  square  before  the  palace." 

"  A  fagot ! "  exclaimed  the  king.  "  This  savors  much  of  sorcery.  Guards, 
seize  the  man  and  his  fagot,  and,  the  one  bearing  the  other,  let  them  both  be 
burned.  After  that  I  hope  to  be  allowed  to  slumber  in  peace." 

"  My  beloved  is  to  be  burned  ! "  cried  the  princess,  waving  her  hands  about  like 
one  distracted.  "  Sire,  this  noble  cavalier  is  my  future  husband — my  love,  my 
life  !  If  a  hair  of  his  head  is  touched  I  shall  die  !  " 

"  An  infernal  power  seems  to  be  loose  in  my  house,"  said  poor  Mouchamiel. 
"  What  is  the  good  of  being  king  if  one  is  not  allowed  to  slumber  without  being 
disturbed  ?  But  I  am  only  tormenting  myself  needlessly.  Let  Mistigray  be 
summoned.  Since  I  have  a  prime  minister,  it  is  the  least  I  can  expect  of  him 
that  he  should  tell  me  what  I  think  and  what  I  wish  done." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LORD  MISTIGRAY  was  announced.     He  was  a  stout  man,  of  low  stature, 
as  broad  as  he  was  high,  and  he  rolled  into  the  room  rather  than  walked  ; 
he  possessed  cunning  eyes  that  looked  all  ways  at  once,  a  low  forehead,  a  hooked 
nose,  large  cheeks,  and  a  treble  chin— such  was  the  portrait  of  the  celebrated 


g6  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

minister,  who,  in  the  name  of  King  Mouchamiel,  really  governed  Salerno.  He 
entered  the  apartment  smiling  and  puffing  with  an  affected  air,  like  a  man  who 
carries  the  weight  of  power  and  all  its  cares  with  a  light  heart. 

"  Here  you  are  at  last ! "  said  the  king.     "  How  comes  it  that  unheard-of  things 
occur  in  my  kingdom,  and  that  I  am  the  last  to  hear  of  them  ?  " 

"  Every  thing  is  going  on  as  usual,"  answered  Mistigray,  composedly.  "  I  have 
here  in  my  hand  the  police  reports,  and  happiness  and  peace  reign  as  usual  in  the 
state  ;  "  and  spreading  out  some  important-looking  papers,  he  read  as  follows  : — 
"  '  Port  of  Salerno.  All  is  quiet.  No  extra  goods  have  been  smuggled  through 
the  Custom  House.  Three  quarrels  between  sailors,  six  stabs  with  knives,  five 
admissions  into  hospital.  Nothing  fresh.'  '  Upper  town.  Town  dues  doubled. 
Prosperity  and  morality  always  on  the  increase.  Deaths  of  two  women  from 
starvation  ;  ten  children  deserted  by  their  parents.  Three  husbands  taken  up  for 
wife-beating.  Thirty  robberies,  two  murders,  three  poi- 
sonings. Nothing  fresh.' " 

"  And  that  is  all  you  know !  "  asked  Mouchamiel  in 
an  angry  voice.  "  Very  good  !  As  to  myself,  my  lord, 
though  the  affairs  of  the  state  are  not  my  business,  I  know 
more  of  them  than  you  do.  A  man  astride  a  fagot 
has  crossed  the  square  before  the  palace,  has  bewitched 
my  daughter,  and  she  wants  to  marry  him." 

"  Sire,"  replied  Mistigray,  "  I  was  not  unacquainted 
with  this  detail ;  a  minister  of  state  knows  every  thing ; 

but  why  trouble  your  majesty  with  these  follies?  The  man  will  be  hanged, 
and  there  will  be  an  end  of  it." 

"And  can  you  tell  me  where  the  scoundrel  lives  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  your  majesty,"  replied  Mistigray.     «  A  prime  minister  sees  and  hears 
every  thing  and  goes  every  where." 

"Very  good!"  said  the  king;  "if  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  fellow  is  not 
lere,  you  will  cease  to  be  my  prime  minister,  and  will  have  to  vacate  that  office 

f  some  one  who  will  not  rest  content  with  seeing,  but  will  act.     Go !  " 
Mistigrey  withdrew  still  smiling,  but  no  sooner  had  he  reached  the  ante-room 
than  he  grew  purple  in  the  face  as  though  he  were  being  suffocated,  and  was 
obliged  to  ta«  the  arm  of  the  first  friend  he  met.  This  happened  to  be  the  mayor 
e  town,  whom  a  lucky  chance  had  brought  to  his  elbow.     Mistigray  stepped 
on  one  side  with  him,  and  taking  the  magistrate  by  his  button-hole^ 

bit,    he  sa,d,  slowly  and  emphatically,  "if  in  ten  minutes'  time  you  do  not 


Zerbino,    The  Bear.  97 

bring  me  the  man  who  rode  through  Salerno  astride  a  fagot  I  shall  dismiss  you 
from  your  office  ;  do  you  understand  ?  I  shall  dismiss  you." 

Perfectly  stunned  by  this  threat  the  mayor  hastened  to  the  head  of  the  police.' 

"  Where  is  the  man  who  rides  a  fagot  ?  "  he  said.  * 

"What  man?  "  inquired  the  superintendent  of  police. 

"  Do  not  argue  with  your  superior,  I  will  not  put  up  with  it.  In  not  arresting 
the  scoundrel  you  have  failed  in  your  duty.  If  in  five  minutes  the  man  is  not 
forthcoming  I  shall  dismiss  you.  Go  !  " 

The  head  of  the  police  ran  to  the  guard-house  attached  to  the  palace ;  there 
he  found  men  throwing  dice  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  over  the  public  peace. 

"  Knaves !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  if  in  three  minutes  you  do  not  bring  me  the  man 
who  rides  a  fagot,  I  will  have  you  flogged  like  galley-slaves.  Make  haste,  and  do 
not  let  me  hear  a  word  in  reply." 

The  men  went  out  using  strong  language  ;  in  the  meantime  the  clever  and 
wily  Mistigray,  with  full  faith  in  the  miracles  of  organization,  quietly  re-entered 
the  king's  apartment,  wearing  once  more  on  his  lips  the  perpetual  smile  which 
was  a  part  of  his  business. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TWO  words  spoken  by  the  minister  in  the  king's  ear  delighted  Mouchamiel. 
The  idea  of  burning  a  sorcerer  was  not  displeasing  to  him.  It  was  an  agree- 
able little  event  which  would  reflect  credit  on  his  reign  and  be  a  proof  of  his 
wisdom  with  which  to  astonish  posterity.  Only  one  thing  troubled  the  king, 
and  that  was  poor  Aleli  drowned  in  tears,  whom  her  attendants  tried  in  vain  to 
lead  back  to  her  own  apartments. 

Mistigray  looked  at  the  king  and  winked,  and  then  approaching  the  princess, 
said  to  her  in  his  softest  voice  : 

"  Madam,  he  is  coming ;  you  must  not  let  him  see  you  cry.  On  the  contrary, 
adorn  yourself,  and  be  even  more  beautiful  than  usual,  so  that  the  sight  of  you 
alone  will  suffice  to  assure  him  of  his  good  fortune."  j 

"  I  understand  you,  good  Mistigray,"  cried  Aleli.  "  Thanks,  thanks,  my  father," 
added  she,  covering  the  hands  of  the  king  with  kisses.  "  Bless  you,  bless  you 
a  thousand  times ! " 

She  went  out  beside  herself  with  joy,  her  head  raised,  her  eyes  sparkling,  and 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


so  elated  with  her  happiness  that  she  stopped  the  first  lord-in-waiting  she  met  in 
the  corridor  to  tell  him  of  her  approaching  marriage. 

"  Good  chamberlain,"  she  added,  "he  is  coming.     Do  the  honors  of  the  palace 
to  him  yourself,  and  be  assured  you  will  not  find  us  ungrateful." 
Left  alone  with  Mistigray,  the  king  glared  angrily  at  his  minister. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  he  asked.  "  What, 
without  consulting  us,  you  pledge  our  royal 
word  ?  Do  you  think  you  are  master  in  our 
kingdom  to  dispose  of  our  daughter  and 
ourself  without  our  consent  ?  " 

"Bah!"  calmly  said  Mistigray;  "it  was 
necessary  to  soothe  the  princess,  that  was  the 
first  thing  to  be  done.  In  politics  one  never 
troubles  one's  self  about  the  future.  Every 
day  brings  its  own  duty." 

"And  our  word,"  replied  the  king,  "how 
can  we  withdraw  it  without  perjuring  our- 
self? Nevertheless,  we  will  revenge  ourself 
on  the  villain  who  has  stolen  our  daughter's 
heart." 

"  Sire,"  said  Mistigray,  "  a  prince  never 
breaks  his  word,  but  there  are  many  ways  of 
keeping  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  said  Mou- 
chamiel. 

"Your    majesty,"    replied     the  minister, 
"has  just  promised  your  daughter  she  shall 
marry.     She  shall  be  married,  and  after  that 
the  law  must  take  its  course,  which  says— 
'  If  a  noble  who  is  beneath  the  rank  of  baron 
dares  to  sue  for  the  love  of  a  princess  of  the 
blood  royal,  he  will  be  treated  as  a  noble, 
that  is  to  say  he  will  be  beheaded.     If  the  suitor  be  a  commoner,  he  will  be 
i  as  a  commoner,  that  is  to  say,  hanged.     If  he  is  a  peasant  he  will  be 
rowned  like  a  dog/    You  see,  sire,  that  nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  harmonize 
r  fatherly  affection  with  your  royal  justice.     We  have  so  many  laws  in  Sal- 
erno,  that  there  is  always  a  means  of  making  them  accommodate  each  other." 


Zerbino,    The  Bear.  99 

"  Mistigray,"  said  the  king,  "  you  are  a  rascal." 

"  Sire,"  said  the  fat  courtier,  bridling,  "you  flatter  me.  I  am  but  a  politician. 
I  have  been  taught  that  there  is  one  sort  of  morality  for  princes  and  another 
for  smaller  fry,  and  I  have  profited  by  the  lesson.  This  discrimination  is  the 
genius  of  statesmen,  the  admiration  of  clever  people,  and  the  scandal  of  foolish 
ones." 

"  My  good  friend,"  replied  the  king,  "you  weary  me  with  your  three-barreled 
phrases.  I  do  not  ask  you  for  words,  but  for  deeds.  Hasten  the  execution  of 
this  man,  and  let  us  have  done  with  it." 

As  he  was  thus  speaking  the  Princess  Aleli  entered  the  royal  apartment.  She 
looked  so  lovely,  her  eyes  beaming  with  happiness,  that  good  Mouchamiel  sighed 
and  began  to  wish  that  the  cavalier  of  the  fagot  had  been  a  prince,  so  that  he 
need  not  be  hanged. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

GLORY  is  a  very  fine  thing,  but  it  has  its  disadvantages.  Farewell  to  the 
pleasure  of  being  unknown,  and  of  setting  at  defiance  the  curiosity  of  the 
mob.  The  triumphal  entry  of  Zerbino  was  not  effected  without  every  child  in 
Salerno  learning  the  appearance,  and  way  of  life  and  abode,  of  the  wood-cutter. 
So  the  police  had  no  great  difficulty  in  finding  the  man  they  were  in 
search  of. 

Zerbino  was  on  his  knees  in  his  yard  very  busy,  sharpening  his  famous  hatchet; 
he  was  trying  the  edge  on  the  nail  of  his  thumb,  when  a  hand  swooped  down 
upon  him,  seized  hold  of  him  by  the  collar,  and  with  a  vigorous  pull  dragged 
him  up  on  his  feet.  A  few  punches  and  some  blows  with  the  butt-end  of  a 
musket  assisted  him  into  the  street,  and  it  was  in  this  fashion  that  he  learned  that 
a  minister  of  state  took  an  interest  in  him,  and  that  the  king  himself  had  sent  for 
him  to  the  palace. 

Zerbino  was  a  philosopher,  and  philosophers  are  never  astonished  at  any  thing. 
He  thrust  both  his  hands  into  his  belt,  and  walked  calmly  along,  little  heeding 
the  blows  that  were  showered  on  him.  Still,  to  be  a  philosopher  is  not  synony- 
mous with  being  a  saint,  and  a  kick  on  his  shin  at  last  wore  out  the  woodcutter's 
patience. 


100 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


"  Gently,"  he  said,  "have  a  little  pity  on  a  poor  man. 

« I  believe  the  fellow  wants  to  argue  with  us,"  said  one  of  the  men  who  were 
ill-treating  him.  "  Our  friend  is  delicate,  and  we  must  wear  gloves  as  we  lead 
him  by  the  hand." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  in  my  place,"  cried  Zerbino,  "and  we  should  see 

then  if  you  would  laugh." 

«  Silence,  rascal !  "  cried  the  head  of  the  police,  aiming  at  him  a  blow  strong 
enough  to  fell  an  ox. 

The  blow  was  no  doubt  badly  aimed,  for  instead  of  hitting  Zerbino,  it  went 
straight  into  the  eye  of  a  policeman.  Maddened  and  half  blind,  the  injured  man 
threw  himself  upon  his  awkward  chief  and  seized  him  by  the  hair.  A  fight  en- 
sued ;  in  vain  the  bystanders  strove  to  separate  the  combatants;  blows  fell  right 
and  left,  and  there  was  a  general  uproar.  Children  screamed,  women  cried,  and 

the  dogs  barked.  It  was 
necessary  to  send  for  a 
guard  to  re-establish  order 
by  arresting  the  combat- 
ants and  the  by-standers. 
Zerbino,  as  imperturba- 
ble as  ever,  was  continu- 
ing his  road  to  the  palace, 
when  he  was  saluted  in 
the  great  square  by  a  long 
file  of  gentlemen  in  em- 
broidered coats  and  knee 
breeches.  They  were  the 
royal  lackeys,  who,  under 

the  leadership  of  the  major-domo  and  the  great  chamberlain  himself,  had  come 
to  meet  the  lover  whom  the  princess  was  expecting.  As  they  had  received  or- 
ders to  be  polite,  each  of  them  had  his  hat  in  his  hand  and  a  smile  on  his  lips. 
They  bowed  to  Zerbino ;  and  the  woodcutter,  like  a  well-brought  up  man  as  he 
was,  returned  their  salute.  Fresh  bows  on  the  part  of  the  lackeys,  a  fresh  bow 
on  the  part  of  Zerbino.  Eight  or  ten  times  this  ceremony  was  repeated  with 
the  most  profound  gravity.  Zerbino  was  the  first  to  get  tired ;  not  having  been 
born  in  a  palace  his  back  was  wanting  in  the  practice  necessary,  and  was  not  very 
supple. 

"  Enough,  enough !  "  he  cried ;  "  and  as  the  song  says — - 


Zerbino,    The  Bear. 

"  'After  three  noes 

The  chance ; 
After  three  bows 

The  dance  ; ' 


" you  have  bowed  only  too  often,  now  dance."  \3.  /.\  \^    i'*0  '''•  i  '^  ''  -V- 

And  on  the  spot  the  lackeys  fell  to  dancing  while  they  bowed,  and  bowing  as 
they  danced  ;  and  in  this  way,  preceding  Zerbino  in  perfect  order,  they  gave  him 
an  entry  into  the  palace  worthy  of  a  king. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TO  make  himself  look  as  dignified  and  imposing  as  possible,  Mouchamiel,  was 
gravely  regarding  the  end  of  his  nose  ;  Aleli  was  sighing,  Mistigray  mend- 
ing pens  like  a  diplomatist  in  search  of  ideas,  and  the  courtiers,  silent  and  motion- 
less, looked  as  though  lost  in  thought.  At  last  the  great  door  of  the  apartment 
was  thrown  open,  and  the  major-domo  and  lackeys  entered  in  step,  dancing  a 
saraband,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  the  court.  Behind  them  walked  the 
woodcutter,  as  little  impressed  by  royal  splendor  as  if  he  had  been  born  in  a 
palace.  Nevertheless,  at  the  sight  of  the  king  he  stopped,  took  off  his  hat, 
which  he  held  with  both  hands  to  his  breast,  bowed  low  three  times,  scraping  his 
right  leg  behind  him  ;  then  he  put  on  his  hat  again,  quietly  seated  himself  in  an 
arm-chair,  and  crossed  his  legs. 

"  Father,"  cried  the  princess,  throwing  herself  on  the  king's  neck,  "  here  is  the 
husband  you  have  given  me.  How  handsome  he  is!  What  a  noble  air  he  has! 
Will  you  not  love  him  for  my  sake?" 

"  Mistigray,"  murmured  Mouchamiel,  half  strangled,  "  interrogate  that  man 
most  cautiously.  Think  of  my  daughter's  peace  of  mind  and  my  own.  What 
a  misfortune  !  Oh,  how  happy  fathers  would  be  if  they  had  no  children  ! " 

"  Do  not  be  uneasy,  your  majesty,"  replied  Mistigray  ;  "  humanity  is  at  the 
same  time  my  duty  and  my  pleasure." 

"  Stand  up,  you  rascal ! "  he  said,  turning  to  Zerbino,  in  a  rough  voice , 
"  answer  me  at  once  if  you  wish  to  save  your  neck.  Are  you  a  prince  in  dis- 
guise ?  You  are  silent,  fellow  !  You  are  a  sorcerer !  " 

"  No  more  a  sorcerer  than  you  are  yourself,"  replied  Zerbino,  without  leaving 
his  arm-chair. 


102 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


'  Ah !  rogue,"  cried  the  minister,  "  this  denial  proves  your  crime.   Your  silence 

condemns  you,  double-dyed  villain." 

"  If  I  co'nfcssed  to  jtliie-ctirne,  should  I  be  innocent?"  asked  Zerbino. 
"  Sire,"  sa'id'  Mistigray,  \vho  rnjstook  passion  for  eloquence,  "be  just ;  rid  your 

kingdom,  rid  the  earth, 
of  this  monster.  Death 
is  too  good  for  such  a 
I    wretch!" 

"  Go  on,"  said  Zer- 
bino ;  "  bark  away,  old 
man  ;  bark  away,  but  do 
not  bite." 

"Sire,"  cried  Misti- 
gray, puffing,  "  your 
justice  and  humanity 
are  in  opposition.  Bow 
wow,  bow  wow !  Hu- 
manity requires  you  to 
protectyoursubjectsby 
ridding  them  of.  this 
sorcerer.  Bow  wow, 
bow  wow!  Jus- 
tice demands  that  he 
should  be  hanged  or 
burned.  Bowwow,  bow 
wow !  You  are  a  father, 
bow  wow !  but  you  are 
a  king  also,  bow  wow ! 
and  the  king  should 
supersede  the  father, 
bow  wow,  bow  wow !  " 
"  Mistigray,"  replied 
the  king,  "you  speak 
well,  but  you  have  con- 
tracted  a  trick  perfectly 

unbearable.    Not  so  much  affectation  if  you  please.     Finish  what  you  have  to 

say." 


Zerbino*    The  Bear.  103 

*  Sire,"  answered  the  minister ;  "  death,  hanging,  burning !  Bow  wow !  bow 
wow !  " 

While  the  king  sighed,  Aleli,  abruptly  quitting  her  father,  placed  herself  at 
Zerbino's  side. 

"  Issue  your  commands,  sire,"  she  said,  "this  is  my  husband,  and  know  that  I 
will  share  his  fate,  whatever  it  may  be." 

At  this  avowal  all  the  court  ladies  covered  their  faces.  Mistigray  himself  felt 
called  upon  to  blush. 

"  Unhappy  girl !  "  exclaimed  the  furious  king,  "  in  disgracing  yourself  thus 
you  have  pronounced  your  own  sentence.  Guards,  arrest  these  two ;  let  them 
be  married  forthwith,  and  after  that,  seize  the  first  boat  that  is  to  be  found  in 
the  harbor,  and  throw  the  guilty  wretches  into  it,  and  let  them  be  abandoned  to 
the  fury  of  the  waves." 

"Ah,  sire!  "  exclaimed  Mistigray,  as  the  princess  and  Zerbino  were  led  off, 
"you  are  the  greatest  king  in  the  world.  Your  goodness,  and  gentleness,  and 
indulgence  will  serve  as  an  example  to  posterity.  What  will  not  the  Court  Journal 
say  to-morrow?  As  for  us,  astounded  by  such  magnanimity,  we  have  nothing  to 
do  but  admire  it  in  silence." 

"  My  poor  daughter !  "  cried  the  king;  "what  will  she  do  without  her  father? 
Guards,  seize  Mistigray,  and  put  him  also  in  the  boat.  It  will  be  a  consolation 
for  me  to  know  that  that  clever  man  is  with  my  beloved  Aleli.  And  then  a 
change  of  ministry  is  pleasant  diversion,  and  in  my  sad  situation  I  have  need  of 
one.  Farewell,  my  worthy  Mistigray  !  " 

Mistigray  stood  transfixed  and  speechless  ;  he  was  getting  back  his  breath  to 
curse  princes  and  their  ingratitude  when  he  was  marched  out  of  the  palace.  In 
spite  of  all  his  cries  and  threats,  entreaties  and  tears,  he  was  thrown  into  the  bark, 
and  soon  our  three  friends  found  themselves  alone  on  the  wide  sea. 

As  to  good  King  Mouchamiel,  he  wiped  away  a  tear,  and  shut  himself  into 
his  own  apartment,  there  to  finish  his  siesta  which  had  been  so  disagreeably  inter- 
rupted 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


CHAPTER  X. 

IT  was  a  lovely  still  night ;  the  moon's  pure  rays  illumined  the  rippling  waves, 
the  wind  was  off  the  land,  and  quickly  carried  the  bark  far  out  to  sea.  Soon 
Capri  appeared,  like  a  basket  of  flowers  set  in  the  midst  of  the  billows.  Zerbino 
had  hold  of  the  rudder,  and  was  humming  some  plaintive  song,  while  Aleli, 
silent,  but  not  sad,  was  listening  at  his  side. 

The  past  she  had  forgotten,  and  of  the  future  she  never  thought ;  to  be  near 
Zerbino  was  all  in  all  to  her. 

Mistigray,  not  being  in  love,  was  less  philosophical  ;  angry  and  perturbed,  he 
moved  about  like  a  bear  in  a  cage,  and  addressed  long  discourses  to  Zerbino,  to 
which  the  woodman  never  listened.  Imperturbable  as  ever,  Zerbino  dropped  his 
head  ;  not  being  accustomed  to  official  harangues,  those  of  the  minister  sent 
him  off  to  sleep. 

"  What  is  to  become  of  us  ?  "  cried  Mistigray.  "  Come,  dreadful  sorcerer,  if 
you  have  any  power,  show  it  and  deliver  us  from  this.  Make  yourself  a  prince 
or  king  somewhere,  and  make  me  your  prime  minister.  I  must  have  something 
to  govern.  What  is  the  good  of  your  power,  if  you  are  not  able  to  make  your 
friends'  fortunes?  " 

"  I  am  hungry,"  said  Zerbino,  opening  half  an  eye. 

Aleli  rose  at  once,  and  looked  round  her. 

"  My  dear,"  said  she,  "  what  would  you  like  to  eat  ?  " 

"  I  want  some  figs  and  grapes,"  returned  the  woodcutter. 

Mistigrey  gave  a  loud  scream,  for  a  barrel  of  figs  and  raisins  suddenly  came  up 
between  his  legs,  and  threw  him  down. 

"Ah,"  thought  he,  as  he  got  up  again,  "  I  know  your  secret,  wretched  sorcerer. 
If  you  get  all  you  want,  my  fortune  is  made.  I  have  not  been  a  minister  of 
state  for  nothing,  my  fine  prince  ;  I  will  make  you  wish  what  I  wish." 

While  Zerbino  ate  his  figs,  Mistigray  approached  him,  bowing  with  a  smiling 
face. 

"  Lord  Zerbino,"  said  he,  "  I  have  come  to  beg  for  your  excellency's  invaluable 
friendship.  Perhaps  your  highness  has  not  understood  the  devotion  that  I  hid 
under  the  pretended  severity  of  my  words ;  but  I  can  assure  you  that  it  was  all 
calculated  to  hasten  your  happiness.  It  was  I  who  hurried  on  your  happy 
marriage." 


Zerbino,    The  Bear. 


105 


"  I  am  hungry,"  said  Zerbino  ;  "  give  me  some  figs  and  raisins?  " 

"  Here  they  are,  my  lord,"  said  Mistigray,  with  all  a  courtier's  grace.  "  I  hope 
that  your  excellency  will  be  satisfied  with  my  little  services,  and  that  you  will 
often  give  me  the  opportunity  of  showing  my  zeal.  (Thrice-doited  idiot,"  he 
muttered  under  his  breath,  "  you  do  not  listen  to  me.  I  must  really  make  inter- 
est  with  Aleli.  The  great  secret  in  politics  is  to  please  the  ladies.)  By  the  way, 
Lord  Zerbino,"  he  went  on,  smiling,  "  you  forget  that  you  were  married  this 
evening.  Would  it  not  be  suitable  to  make  a  wedding  present  to  your  royal 
bride?" 

"  You  weary  me,  old  man,"  replied  Zerbino.  "  A  wedding  present!  I  should 
like  to  know  where  to  fish  it  from  ?  From  the  bottom  of  the  sea  ?  Go  and  ask 
the  fishes  for  it,  and  bring  it  back  to  me." 

The  same  moment,  as  if  an 
invisible  hand  had  pushed  him, 
Mistigray  jumped  overboard, 
and  disappeared  beneath  the 
waves. 

Zerbino  went  on  munching 
his  raisins,  while  Aleli  never 
tired  of  gazing  at  him. 

"  Look  at  that  porpoise 
jumping  out  of  the  water,"  said 
Zerbino. 

It  was   not   a   porpoise,  but 
the      unfortunate      messenger, 
who,  having  risen  to  the   sur- 
face again,  was  struggling  in  the  midst  of  the  waves.     Zerbino  seized  hold  of 
Mistigray  by  his  hair,  and  drew  hirn  on  board.     Strange  to  relate,  the  fat  courtier 
carried  in  his  teeth  a  carbuncle,  which  shone  like  a  star  in  the  darkness. 

As  soon  as  he  could  get  his  breath,  "  Here,"  said  he,  "  is  the  present  that  the 
fish  king  offers  to  the  charming  Aleli.  You  see,  Lord  Zerbino,  that  you  have  in 
me  the  most  faithful  and  devoted  of  slaves.  If  you  ever  have  occasion  to  want 
a  minister  in  whom  to  confide " 

"  I  am  hungry,"  said  Zerbino  ;  "  give  me  some  figs  and  raisins  !  " 

"  My  lord,"  returned  Mistigray,  "  will  you  do  nothing  for  your  wife,  the 
princess?  This  bark,  exposed  as  it  is  to  wind  and  weather,  is  not  an  abode 
worthy  of  her  birth  and  her  beauty." 


I06  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"Stop,  Mistigray,"  said  Aleli;  "I  am  perfectly  content.     I    desire  nothing 

more." 

"  Do  you  not  remember,  madam,"  continued  the  officious  minister,  "  that  when 
the  Prince  of  Capri  offered  you  his  hand,  he  sent  to  Salerno  for  a  splendid  ship 
made  of  acacia  wood,  the  fittings  of  which  were  of  gold  and  ivory  ;  and  how  the 
sailors  were  dressed  in  velvet,  and  the  ropes  were 'all  of  silk,  and  how  the  three 
saloons  were  decorated  with  mirrors  ?  That  was  what  a  small  prince  prepared 
for  you.  I  am  sure  Lord  Zerbino  would  not  wish  to  be  less  generous  ;  he  is  so 
noble,  and  powerful,  and  good." 

"  He  is  a  stupid  fellow,"  said  Zerbino ;  "  he  is  always  talking.  I  should  like  to 
have  a  ship  like  that,  if  only  to  shut  your  mouth,  chatterbox,  and  then  you  would 
be  silenced." 

At  that  moment  Aleli  gave  a  little  scream  of  surprise  and  pleasure,  which 
startled  the  woodcutter. 

Where  was  he  ?  On  a  magnificent  vessel  which  glided  through  the  waves  as 
gracefully  as  a  swan  with  wings  outspread.  A  tent  on  deck,  lighted  by  lamps  of 
alabaster,  made  a  richly  furnished  saloon.  Aleli,  seated  all  the  time  at  her  hus- 
band's feet,  never  took  her  eyes  off  his  face.  Mistigray  ran  all  over  the  ship, 
and  wanted  to  give  orders  to  every  one  of  the  sailors.  But  on  this  strange 
vessel  no  one  appeared.  Mistigray 's  eloquence  was  wasted  ;  he  could  not  even 
find  a  cabin-boy  to  govern. 

Zerbino  rose  to  see  what  way  they  were  making.  Mistigray  hastened  to  him, 
smiling  as  usual. 

"Your  lordship,"  he  said,  "I  trust  is  satisfied  with  my  efforts  and  my  zeal." 

"  Silence,  chatterbox !  "  said  the  woodcutter.  "  I  forbid  you  to  speak  till 
to-morrow  morning.  I  am  dreaming ;  let  me  sleep." 

Mistigray  stood  with  his  mouth  wide  open,  making  the  most  respectful  ges- 
tures ;  then,  in  despair,  he  went  to  the  dining  saloon  and  ate  his  supper  without 
saying  a  word.  He  drank  for  four  hours  without  being  able  to  console  himself, 
and  finished  by  slipping  under  the  table.  During  this  time  Zerbino  dreamed  at 
his  ease.  Aleli  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  sleep. 


Zerbino,    The  Bear. 


107 


CHAPTER  XL 

TV  /T  AN  tires  of  every  thing,  even  of  happiness,"  says  a  proverb ;  with  still 

IV  JL      greater  reason  every  one  is  likely  to  tire  of  being  at  sea  on  board  a 

ship  where  no  word  is  uttered,  and  which  is 

going  no  one  knows  where. 

As  soon  as  Mistigray  came  to  himself  and 
recovered  his  speech,  he  resolved  to  induce 
Zerbino  to  wish  himself  on  shore.  The  thing 
was  difBcult.  The  wily  courtier  was  always  in 
dread  lest  by  some  indiscreet  wish  he  might  be 
sent  back  to  the  fishes  ;  he  feared  above  every 
thing  that  Zerbino  should  regret  his  forest  and 
his  ax.  To  think  of  being  the  prime  minister 
of  a  woodman ! 

Zerbino  woke  in  a  delightful  temper;  he 
was  getting  accustomed  to  the  princess,  and, 
rough  as  he  was,  her  lovely  face  had  a  charm 
for  him.  Mistigray  wished  to  seize  the  oppor- 
tunity ;  but,  alas !  women  are  so  unreasonable 
where  their  affections  are  concerned !  Aleli 
said  to  Zerbino  how  delightful  it  would  be  for 
them  to  live  together  by  themselves,  far  re- 
moved from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  world, 
in  some  retired  cottage  surrounded  by  an 
orchard  on  the  banks  of  a  stream.  Without 
in  the  least  understanding  this  romantic  sen- 
timent, our  worthy  Zerbino  listened  with  pleas- 
ure to  the  gentle  words  that  lulled  him. 

"  A  cottage  with  cows  and  poultry,"  said  he, 
"  that  would  be  nice.  If — " 

Mistigray  felt  in  another  moment  he  would 
be  lost,  so  he  ventured  on  a  bold  stroke. 

"  Ah,  my  lord  ! "  he  cried,  "  look  in  front  of  you. 

"  What  is?  "  said  the  princess.     "  I  see  nothing. 


How  beautiful  it  is! 


I08  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  Nor  I  either,"  said  Zerbino,  rubbing  his  eyes. 

« Is  it  possible  ?  "  replied  Mistigray,  as  if  much  astonished.     "  What  ? 
not  see  that  marble  palace  which  glitters  in  the  sunshine,  and  that  noble  flight  of 
steps,  with  orange-trees  on  each  side,  which  descends  by  a  hundred  steps  to  the 
margin  of  the  sea  ?  " 

"  A  palace,"  said  Aleli,  "  to  be  surrounded  with  courtiers  and  selfish  people 
and  lackeys !  I  would  rather  not  see  it.  Let  us  go  away." 

"  Yes,"  said  Zerbino,  "  a  cottage  would  be  much  more  to  my  taste,  and  we 
could  be  quieter  there." 

"  This  palace  is  unlike  any  other,"  cried  Mistigray,  with  whom  fear  had  the 

effect  of  quickening  the   imagination.     "  In  this  fairy  abode  there  are  neither 

courtiers  nor  lackeys ;  invisible  hands  wait  upon  one,  and  a  person  is  at  the  same 

time  alone  and  yet  surrounded  !     The  furniture  has  hands,  the  walls  have  ears." 

"  Have  they  tongues?"  said  Zerbino. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mistigray,  "they  can  speak  and  say  any  thing,  but  they  can  be 
silent  when  required." 

"  Well,"  said  the  wood  cutter,  "  then  they  are  more  intelligent  than  you  are. 
I  should  like  to  have  a  palace  like  that.  Where  is  this  fine  palace  ?  I  do  not  see  it." 
"  There  it  is  before  you,  dear  one,"  said  the  princess. 

The  vessel  had  sped  along  toward  the  shore,  and  already  the  anchor  was  being 
cast  in  a  harbor  where  the  water  was  deep  enough  for  them  to  be  brought  close 
up  alongside  of  the  quay.  The  harbor  was  half  surrounded  by  great  stairs  in 
the  shape  of  a  horseshoe,  and  at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  on  an  immense  platform 
overlooking  the  sea,  stood  the  most  delightful  palace  that  was  ever  imagined. 

The  three  friends  went  up  gayly,  Mistigray  a  little  ahead,  panting  at  every  step. 
When  he  reached  the  castle  gate  he  wished  to  ring,  but  there  was  no  bell ;  he 
called,  and  the  gate  itself  answered. 

"What  do  you  want,  stranger?  "  it  asked. 

"  To  speak  to  the  master  of  this  mansion,"  returned  Mistigray,  rather  puzzled 
at  speaking  for  the  first  time  to  wrought  iron. 

"  The  master  of  this  palace  is  Lord  Zerbino,"  replied  the  gate.  "When  he 
approaches  I  will  open." 

Zerbino  now  came  up  with  the  beautiful  Aleli  on  his  arm,  and  the  gate  threw 
itself  open  with  profound  respect,  and  allowed  the  husband  and  wife  to  pass 
through,  followed  by  Mistigray. 

When  they  reached  the  terrace,  Aleli  gazed  at  the  magnificent  scene  before 
her ;  nothing  but  the  sea— the  great  sea— glittering  in  the  morning.sunshine. 


Zerbino,    The  Bear. 


109 


"  How  beautiful  it  is  here !  "  she  said  ;  "  and  how  delightful  it  would  be  to  sit 
under  this  arcade  among  these  oleanders  in  flower !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Zerbino  ;  "  let  us  sit  on  the  ground." 

"  Are  there  not  arm-chairs  here  ?  "  said  Mistigray. 

u  Here  we  are !  here  we  are !  "  cried  the  arm-chairs ; 
and  they  all  came  running  one  after  the  other  as  fast 
as  their  four  legs  could  carry  them. 

"  It  would  be  very  pleasant  to  breakfast  here," 
said  Mistigray. 

"Yes,"  said  Zerbino;  "but  where  is  the  table?" 

"  Here  I  am  !  here  I  am  !  "  replied  a  deep  con- 
tralto voice  ;  and  a  beautiful  mahogany  table,  walk- 
ing with  the  staid  grace  of  a  matron,  placed  itself  in 
front  of  the  party. 

"  How  charming !  "  cried  the  princess  ;  "  but  where 
are  the  plates  ?  " 

"  Here  we  are  !  "  cried  some  little  shrill  voices ; 
and  thirty  dishes,  followed  by  their  sisters  the  plates, 
and  the  knives  and  forks  their  cousins,  not  forgetting 
their  aunts  the  salt-cellars,  quickly  laid  themselves 
in  the  most  perfect  order  on  the  table,  which  was 
covered  with  game,  and  fruit,  and  flowers. 

"Lord  Zerbino,"  said  Mistigray,  "you  see  what  I 
am  doing  for  you.  All  this  is  my  work." 

"  That  is  not  true  !  "  cried  a  voice. 

Mistigray  turned  round  and  saw  nobody,  for  it  was 
a  column  of  the  arcade  which  had  spoken. 

"  My  lord,"  said  he,  "  I  think  no  one  can  accuse 
me  of  falsehood  ;  I  always  speak  the  truth." 

"  That  is  a  lie !  "  said  the  voice. 

"  This  palace  is  odious,"  thought  Mistigray.  "  If 
the  walls  speak  the  truth,  no  court  will  ever  be 
established  here,  and  I  shall  never  be  prime  min- 
ister. This  must  be  altered.  Lord  Zerbino,"  he 

went  on,  "  instead  of  leading  a  solitary  life  here,  would  you  not  much  rather 
have  devoted  subjects  who  would  pay  you  some  nice  little  taxes  and  furnish  you 
with  good  soldiers,  and  who  would  surround  you  with  affection  and  loyalty  ?  " 


110 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


Be  a  kine?"  said  Zerbino  ;  "  and  why  should  I  ?  " 

Do  not  l"L  to  him,  dear  one  "  said  the  gentle  Mali.    "Let  us  stay  here' 


'l  a.  the  happiest  of  .en  in  this  p.ace,  and 
near  you  I  wish  for  nothing  else." 

"  That  is  false  !  "  said  the  voice.  „ 

«  What,  my  lord,  is  there  any  one  here  who  dares  to  doubt  my  devotion  ? 
"  That  is  false  !  "  returned  the  voice. 

-  My  lord,  do  not  listen  to  it,"  cried  Mistigray.     «  I  love  and  honor  you  ;  think 

of  my  services. 

"  You  are  lying  !  "  re- 
plied the  merciless  voice. 

"  Oh,  if  you  always  lie, 
be  off  with  you  to  the 
moon,"  said  Zerbino;  "  that 
is  the  country  for  liars," 

Fatal  speech!  for  im- 
mediately Mistigray  start- 
ed off  like  an  arrow 
through  the  air  and  dis- 
appeared above  the  clouds. 
Has  he  ever  come  down 
again  to  earth  ?  I  do  not 
know,  though  some  chroniclers  affirm  that  he  has  reappeared,  but  under  another 
name.  It  is  certain  though  that  he  has  never  been  seen  in  that  palace  where 
even  the  walls  spoke  the  truth. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

LEFT  to  themselves,  Zerbino  crossed  his  arms  and  gazed  at  the  sea,  while 
Aleli  fell  into  a  gentle  reverie.  To  live  in  an  enchanted  solitude  with  the 
person  one  loves  is  a  dream  of  one's  youth.  To  make  acquaintance  with  her 
new  domain,  Aleli  took  Zerbino's  arm.  On  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left  the 
palace  was  surrounded  with  beautiful  meadows  watered  by  springs  of  water. 
Emerald  oaks,  copper  beeches,  larches  with  their  needle  points,  and  brilliant-leaved 


Zerbino,    The  Bear.  1 1 1 

maples,  threw  their  shadows  across  the  lawns.  In  the  midst  of  the  foliage  a 
thrush  was  singing,  whose  song  breathed  of  peace  and  joy.  Aleli  put  her  hand 
to  her  heart,  and  looking  at  Zerbino,  she  said — 

"  Are  you  happy  here,  dearest  ?     Have  you  nothing  more  to  wish  for?" 

"  I  never  have  wished  for  any  thing,"  said  Zerbino.  "  What  should  I  want  ? 
To-morrow  I  shall  take  my  ax  and  work  hard.  There  are  beautiful  woods  to 
cut  down ;  I  should  think  one  could  get  more  than  a  hundred  fagots  from 
them." 

"  Ah,"  said  Aleli,  sighing,  "  you  do  not  love  me." 

"  Love  you  !  "  replied  Zerbino,  "  what  is  that  ?  I  am  sure  I  do  not  wish  you 
any  harm,  on  the  contrary.  Here  is  a  place  which  has  come  to  us  out  of  the 
clouds  ;  it  is  yours.  Write  to  your  father  and  ask  him  to  come  here  ;  that  will 
please  me.  If  I  have  caused  you  any  sorrow,  it  is  not  my  fault.  I  could  not 
help  it.  A  woodcutter  I  am,  and  a  woodcutter  I  hope  to  die.  It  is  my  calling, 
and  I  know  how  to  keep  my  place.  Pray  do  not  cry,  I  do  not  want  to  say  any 
thing  to  hurt  your  feelings." 

"  Oh,  Zerbino,"  cried  poor  Aleli,  "  what  have  I  done  for  you  to  treat  me  like 
this  ?  I  must  be  very  ugly  and  very  bad  for  you  not  to  wish  to  love  me  ?  " 

"  Love  you  !  that  is  not  my  business.  Once  more,  pray  do  not  cry.  It  is  no 
good.  Calm  yourself  and  be  reasonable.  More  tears  !  Well,  yes,  if  it  pleases 
you,  I  do  wish  to  love  you.  I  love  you,  Aleli,  I  adore  you." 

Poor  Aleli,  weeping,  raised  her  eyes.  Zerbino  was  transformed ;  she  saw  he 
now  possessed  the  tenderness  of  a  husband  and  the  devotion  of  a  man  who  gives 
his  heart  and  life  forever.  At  this  sight  Aleli  began  crying  afresh,  but  as  she 
cried  she  smiled  on  Zerbino,  wh,o,  in  his  turn,  for  the  first  time  melted  into  tears. 
To  weep  without  knowing  why,  is  it  not  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life? 

The  nymph  of  the  fountain  now  appeared  on  the  scene  leading  the  wise 
Mouchamiel  by  the  hand.  The  good  king  had  been  very  unhappy  without  his 
daughter  and  his  prime  minister.  He  affectionately  embraced  his  children,  gave 
them  his  blessing,  and  bade  them  farewell  the  same  day  to  spare  his  emotion,  his 
sensitiveness,  and  his  health.  The  nymph  remained  the  guardian  of  the  united 
couple,  who  lived  long  and  happily  in  their  beautiful  palace;  "the  world  forget- 
ting and  by  the  world  forgot." 


FRAGOLETTE. 


ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  near  Mantua  an  orphan  girl,  who  used  to  go 
to  school  every  morning  with  her  books  and  basket.     The  school  was  not 
far,  but  then  the  road  wound  among  bushes,  and  the  great  trees  were  (according 
to  the  season)  full  of  flowers  and  fruit,  of  birds  and  butterflies.     How  was  it 
possible  not  to  linger  now  and  then  among  these  wonders  of  creation  ? 

One  day  our  little  scholar  perceived  a  blue  butterfly,  the  prettiest  she  had  ever 
seen,  in  the  cup  of  an  eglantine  blossom.  She  held  her  breath  ;  crept  forward 
on  the  points  of  her  toes  ;  raised  her  hand  softly,  and— the  butterfly  escaped 
between  her  fingers !  Floating  from  left  to  right  in  a  careless  way,  he  at  last 
perched  upon  a  slope  of  the  road.  The  young  girl  followed,  but  he  flew  off ; 
then  stopped  on  a  flower ;  then  off  again  ;  and  so  on  till  he  led  his  huntress 
upon  the  heights  near  an  inclosure  that  had  a  very  bad  reputation  in  that  neigh- 
borhood. It  was  there,  gossip  said,  that  the  fairies  danced  in  the  beautiful 
spring  nights,  and  the  witches  held  their  nocturnal  meetings  in  the  somber 
autumn.  Although  the  walls  were  so  ruined  in  several  places  that  the  debris  had 
fallen  in  the  moat,  no  Christian  dared  to  risk  himself  in  the  accursed  place.  But 
butterflies  have  no  scruples,  and  children  are  like  butterflies. 

Our  little  traveler  with  the  blue  wings  entered  without  ceremony  into  this 
garden,  which  resembled  a  virgin  forest,  and  our  heroine  followed,  drawn  on  by 
the  pleasure  of  the  chase.  But  she  had  hardly  passed  a  bush  when  she  stopped 
short  and  uttered  a  cry  of  admiration. 

Before  her  lay  a  great  prairie  bordered  by  immense  trees,  and  the  ground  was 
all  enameled  with  white  and  red.  It  was  strawberries  ;  the  blossoms  and  the 
fruit ;  strawberries  without  a  master,  which  offered  themselves  to  any  one  who 
chose  to  profit  by  this  hidden  wealth.  Good-bye  to  butterflies  !  Our  little 
scholar  dropped  on  her  two  knees  on  the  verdure,  and  in  less  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  she  filled  her  basket.  After  that  she  started  off  at  her  utmost  speed 


Fragolette.  113 

for  the  school,  and  arrived  there  all  out  of  breath,  and  redder  than  the  straw- 
berries she  carried.  She  was  scolded  for  being  late,  but  she  was  so  proud  and 
delighted  she  heard  nothing.  The  idea  of  preaching  about  rules  to  conquerors, 
indeed  !  At  noon  she  shared  her  treasures  with  her  little  companions,  who  never 
ceased  admiring  her  courage  and  good  fortune.  She  had  the  air  of  a  queen 
in  the  midst  of  her  courtiers.  Nothing  was  wanting  to  her  triumph.  They  gave 
her  the  nick-name  of  Fragolette,  which  is  the  Italian  for  "  little  strawberry,"  and 
she  bore  that  title  all  her  life.  It  is,  at  least,  the  only  name  under  which  she  is 
known  in  history.  To  say  the  truth,  there  were  some  timid  souls  who  could  not 
help  having  a  few  misgivings.  Even  while  eating  the  berries,  they  asked  if  this 
might  not  be  a  temptation  of  the  evil  one  to  lead  them  into  his  power,  but 
these  vain  rumors  were  lost  in  the  sounds  of  victory.  No  one  would  listen  to 
them. 

But  they  were  wrong  not  to  listen,  as  you  will  see  by  the  rest  of  this  story. 
Delighted  with  her  popularity  and  her  good  fortune,  Fragolette  went  every  day 
to  the  condemned  spot,  and  at  last  regarded  herself  as  its  owner.  "  It  was,"  she 
said,  "  a  piece  of  abandoned  land,  where  all  the  fruit  had  been  eaten  by  the  black- 
birds and  tomtits,  and  a  Christian  should  have  at  least  as  much  right  as  the 
birds." 

But  one  day,  as  she  was  picking  the  berries  as  usual,  she  received  a  terrible 
blow  on  the  head  that  stretched  her  out  on  the  sod. 

"  Ah,  I  have  caught  you,  thief  ! "  cried  a  frightful  voice.  "  Now  you've  got  to 
pay  me." 

Fragolette,  half  stunned,  tried  to  rise.  She  found  herself  in  the  presence  of  a 
creature  who  froze  her  blood  with  horror.  This  was  an  old  woman,  large,  thin, 
yellow  and  wrinkled,  with  red  eyes  and  nose  like  the  beak  of  a  vulture.  From 
her  hideous  mouth  two  teeth  projected,  longer  and  sharper  than  the  tusks  of  a 
wild  boar.  Fragolette  tried  to  stammer  an  excuse,  but  the  old  woman,  who  was 
a  witch,  did  not  deign  to  listen.  She  tied  the  child's  hands  behind  her  back, 
wound  a  rope  seven  times  around  her  body,  made  a  slip  knot,  and  put  through 
it  the  handle  of  the  enormous  broom  with  which  she  had  struck  her. 

Then,  in  witch  language,  she  pronounced  a  few  of  those  horrible  words  which 
shake  the  earth  and  pale  the  skies.  This  done,  she  mounted  the  broom,  which 
sped  into  the  air  like  an  arrow,  carrying  with  her  the  unhappy  Fragolette,  like  a 
spider  at  the  end  of  h^r  thread. 

If  she  had  known  geography,  she  might  have  enjoyed  the  magnificent  spectacle 
spread  out  in  her  sight.  It  was  beautiful  Italy,  bordered  by  the  snowy  Alps 


H4  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

and  the  blue  sea,  and  traversed  by  the  verdant  slopes  of  the  Appennines.  But 
in  those  days  women  plied  the  distaff  in  their  own  homes,  and  did  not  concern 
themselves  with  what  was  going  on  in  China  or  Peru.  Geography  was  of  little 
account  to  them.  And,  for  that  matter,  the  poor  child  was  too  frightened  to  open 
her  eyes.  She  might  have  passed  even  over  Vesuvius  and  Etna  without  seeing 
them.  She  was  more  dead  than  alive  when  the  magic  broom  descended  to  the 
earth  in  the  midst  of  the  forests  of  Sicily. 

"  At  last,  little  thief,"  said  the  witch,  as  she  lifted  her  up  by  the  hair.  "  Now 
you  belong  to  me,  go  to  work,  go  and  set  the  table  in  the  dining  room.  How 
soon  I  would  eat  you  if  you  were  not  so  thin,"  added  she,  pinching  the  child's 
arms  ;  "  but  with  me  people  grow  fat  quickly,  and  you  will  lose  nothing  by 
waiting." 

With  this  grim  joke  she  opened  her  great  mouth,  and  licked  her  lips  with  a 
smile  which  made  poor  Fragolette  shiver  all  over. 

The  dinner  was  not  very  gay,  as  you  may  think.  The  old  witch  ate  a  roast 
cat  and  some  mice  cooked  in  jelly,  and  some  radishes  as  sweetmeats.  Fragolette 
gnawed  a  crust  of  bread  and  threw  herself,  all  in  tears,  on  a  wretched  mattress 
in  a  corner.  Happily  she  was  at  that  age  when  sleep  is  stronger  than  sorrow, 
and  had  hardly  laid  down  when  she  went  to  sleep. 

The  day  after  this  sad  adventure  the  slavery  of  Fragolette  commenced.  Each 
day  she  had  to  sweep  and  scrub  the  house,  cook  the  meals,  serve  the  table,  wash 
the  dishes,  and  what  was  worse,  aid  at  the  toilet  of  her  horrible  mistress.  Dur- 
ing entire  hours  the  child  was  exhausted  in  trying  to  curl  the  three  hairs  that  the 
witch  had  on  her  head.  Then  she  had  to  brush  the  two  great  teeth,  and  to  use 
the  powder  of  rice,  and  the  rouge,  and  the  patches.  It  was  happy  for  her  if, 
when  all  was  done,  she  escaped  without  three  or  four  blows. 

Yet,  spite  of  this  hard  life,  Fragolette  grew  prettier  each  day—  I  wish  I  could  say 
she  grew  better-but  she  was  not  one  of  those  mild  creatures  who  accept  blows 
and  kiss  the  hand  that  strikes  them.  No  ;  the  blood  boiled  in  her  veins,  and  she 
dreamed  only  of  revenge.  The  old  witch  noticed  this.  One  is  always  afraid  of 
those  whom  they  have  wronged.  She  often  asked  herself  if  the  girl  might  not 
strangle  her  some  day  while  she  helped  at  her  toilet,  and  she  thought  it  would  be 
wise  for  her  to  prevent  the  chance. 


heart  Frag°lette  10°ked  Prettier  than  usua1'  envy  and  ^ger  gnawed 


it  w  i        f,         she  said  to  the  young  gir1'  "  &  to  the  fountain> 

it  back  to  me  full  of  water  ;  if  not,  I  shall  eat  you  !  " 


Fragolette.  115 

The  girl  ran  quickly.  She  imagined  that  the  basket  was  enchanted,  and  that 
the  witch,  according  to  her  custom,  was  amusing  herself  by  frightening  her.  She 
plunged  the  basket  into  the  fountain,  but  when  she  drew  it  up  the  water  ran 
through  it  as  though  it  were  a  sieve.  Three  times  she  -  d  in  vain,  and  then 
she  comprehended  that  the  witch  meant  to  kill  her.  Funous  and  despairing,  she 
leaned  against  the  fountain  and  burst  into  tears.  All  at  once  she  heard  a  soft 
voice  which  called  her. 

"  Fragolette  !  Fragolette  !  why  do  you  weep  ?  " 

She  raised  her  head  and  saw  a  handsome  young  man,  who  looked  at  her 
tenderly. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  she  said,  "who  know  my  name?  " 

"  I  am  the  son  of  the  witch,  and  my  name  is  Belebon.  I  know  that  your  death 
is  desired,  but  it -shall  not  be,  I  promise  you.  Give  me  one  kiss,  and  I  will  fill 
your  basket." 

"  Kiss  the  son  of  the  witch,  never ! "  said  Fragolette,  proudly. 

"  Ah,  well,  I  will  not  be  so  hard  as  you,"  said  the  young  man. 

He  breathed  three  times  on  the  basket,  and  then  plunging  it  into  the  fountain, 
drew  it  out  full  of  water.  Not  a  drop  escaped. 

Fragolette  went  back  to  the  house,  and  -without  a  word  placed  the  basket  on 
the  table.  The  witch  grew  pale  as  death. 

"  Are  you  too  one  of  our  trade?"  she  said,  looking  keenly  into  the  girl's  eyes. 
Then  striking  her  forehead,  she  said :  "  You  have  seen  Belebon.  He  has  helped 
you.  Confess  it." 

"  You  ought  to  know,  since  you  are  a  witch." 

For  a  reply  the  witch  gave  her  such  a  blow  that  she  was  obliged  to  hold  fast 
to  the  table  to  keep  from  falling. 

"  Good,  good  !  "  said  the  old  witch,  "  we'll  see  who'll  carry  the  day.  He  laughs 
best  who  laughs  last." 

The  next  day  the  witch  said  to  Fragolette : 

•"  I  am  going  to  take  a  turn  in  Africa,  and  I  will  come  back  this  evening.  You 
see  this  sack  of  wheat  ?  You  must  have  that  made  into  loaves,  and  baked  on 
my  return.  You  will  not  find  this  task  any  more  difficult  than  to  carry  water  in 
a  basket.  If  it  is  not  done,  take  care  of  yourself." 

Saying  this,  seemingly  she  locked  the  door  and  left. 

"  This  time  I  am  lost,"  cried  the  young  girl.  "  Can  I  grind  the  flour,  make  the 
bread  and  bake  it  ?  I  have  neither  a  mill  nor  oven,  and  I  have  no  time." 

Then  she  beat  frantically  on  the  door  in  a  vain  effort  to  escape. 


Ii6  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

It  was  Belebon  who  opened  it. 

"  Fragolette  !  Fragolette,"  said  he,  "  this  does  no  good.  Give  me  one  kiss,  and 
I  will  take  care  of  the  bread  and  you  will  be  saved." 

"  Kiss  the  son  of  «•  witch,"  cried  Fragolette,  trembling,  "  never!" 

"  You  have  no  pity,  Fragolette.     Nevertheless,  I  cannot  let  you  die." 

He  whistled,  and  the  rats  and  the  mice  ran  out  from  ail  the  holes  in  the  house. 
The  rats  carried  the  wheat  to  the  mill  and  came  running  back  with  a  sack  of 
flour.  The  mice  turned  bakers,  and  the  rats  heated  the  oven.  When  the  witch 
returned  all  was  baked,  and  the  golden  loaves  piled  up  to  the  ceiling. 

"  Wretch,"  she  said,  "  you  have  seen  Belebon !  He  has  helped  you  ;  con- 
fess it ! " 

"  You  ought  to  know,  since  you  are  a  witch,"  she  said. 

The  witch  strove  to  strike  her,  but  Fragolette  dodged  the  blow,  and  her  enemy 
fell  with  her  nose  on  the  table  and  grew  all  blue  with  rage  and  pain. 

"  Good,"  she  said,  "  we'll  see  who'll  beat.     Who  laughs  last,  laughs  best." 

Two  days  later  the  old  witch  put  on  a  smiling  air  and  called  Fragolette. 

"  My  child,  go  and  see  my  sister,  and  ask  for  her  strong-box,  and  bring  it  to- 
me." 

"  How  do  I  know  where  your  sister  lives,  and  what  is  her  name  ?  " 

"  Nothing  is  easier,"  said  the  witch.  "  You  go  straight  on  till  you  come  to  a 
stream  that  runs  across  the  road.  You  pass  by  the  ford,  and  a  little  further  you 
will  see  an  old  chateau  with  an  iron  fence.  There  is  where  my  sister  Viperine 
lives.  Go,  and  hurry  back,  my  child." 

"  A  miracle,"  thought  Fragolette  ;  "  the  old  thing  is  in  a  good  humor." 

Saying  this  she  started  out  with  a  light  step,  and  met  Belebon  out  in  the  road. 

"Where  are  you  going  this  morning?"  he  asked. 

"  I  am  going  to  the  sister  of  my  mistress  to  ask  for  a  strong-box." 

"  Unhappy  one,"  cried  Belebon,  "  they  are  sending  you  to  your  death.  No 
living  creature  has  ever  left  the  chateau  of  Viperine.  But  I  can  save  you.  Give 
me  a  kiss  and  I  will  answer  for  all." 

"No,  I  will  never  kiss  the  son  of  a  witch." 

"  Fragolette,  you  are  ungrateful,  but  I  love  you  more  than  myself,  and  I  will 
save  you  in  spite  of  yourself.  Listen  well  to  me.  When  you  get  to  the  banks  of 
the  stream  say,  '  Beautiful  river  let  me  cross  on  your  silvery  tide.'  Then  take 
this  bottle  of  oil,  this  bread,  this  cord,  and  this  little  broom.  When  you  get  to 
the  fence  of  the  old  chateau  rub  the  hinges  of  the  gate  with  oil.  It  will  fly  open 
of  itself.  Then  a  great  dog  will  spring  out,  barking.  Throw  him  the  bread  and 


Fragolette.  117 

he  will  stop.  In  the  court  yard  you  will  see  a  poor  woman  who  is  obliged  to 
draw  pails  of  water  out  of  a  well  by  the  long  locks  of  her  hair.  Give  her  the 
rope.  Go  on  then  into  the  kitchen,  and  you  will  find  another  woman  who  is 
forced  to  polish  the  stove  with  her  tongue.  Give  her  the  little  broom.  Then 
you  may  enter  the  room  where  Viperine  sleeps.  The  strong-box  is  upon  the  top 
of  the  clothes-press,  take  it  and  fly  as  fast  as  possible.  If  you  attend  to  all  this 
you  will  save  your  life." 

Fragolette  did  not  forget  any  thing  that  Belebon  had  said.  On  the  bank  of 
the  stream  she  cried,  "  Beautiful  river  let  me  pass  over  on  your  silvery  tide." 
And  the  nymph  of  the  river  replied,  in  the  softest  voice,  "  Pass,  sweet  young 
lady."  And  the  waves  separated  so  that  she  passed  over  dry  shod.  The  gate, 
rubbed  with  oil,  opened  of  its  own  accord.  The  dog  snatched  the  bread,  then 
turned  and  stretched  himself  out  with  his  head  on  his  two  paws,  and  cast  an 
affectionate  glance  at  Fragolette.  The  two  women  took  with  joy  the  presents 
she  brought  them,  and  our  heroine  entered,  without  noise,  into  the  chamber  of 
Viperine,  who  lay  there  snoring.  She  ran  to  the  clothes-press  and  took  the 
strong-box.  Her  heart  beat  fast,  and  she  believed  that  she  was  safe.  When  all 
at  once  Viperine  waked.  Fragolette  was  already  on  the  stairs. 

"  Ho,  there  !  "  cried  Viperine.     "  Cook  !  kill  that  thief ! " 

"Not  much,"  answered  her  victim;  "she  has  given  me  a  broom,  while  you 
condemned  me  to  polish  the  stove  with  my  tongue." 

"  Woman  at  the  well !  "  cried  the  witch,  "  take  this  thief  and  drown  her." 

"  Not  much,"  answered  this  victim  ;  "  she  has  given  me  a  rope,  while  you  con- 
demned  me  to  draw  up  water  with  my  hair." 

"  Dog,  eat  her." 

"  Not  much,"  said  the  dog,  without  raising  his  head ;  "  she  has  given  me  bread, 
while  you  let  me  die  of  hunger." 

"Gate,  shut  her  in." 

"  Not  much,"  said  the  gate,  "  she  has  oiled  my  hinges,  while  you  let  me  spoil 
with  rust." 

The  witch  made  but  one  jump  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  but  the  gate, 
happy  at  having  such  liberty  of  movement,  kept  swinging  backward  and  forward 
on  its  two  hinges,  and,  at  the  very  moment  Viperine  went  to  go  out,  it  closed  so 
abruptly  that  she  came  near  being  shut  in  it  and  crushed. 

Fragolette  ran  without  looking  behind  her,  but  in  her  flight  she  did  not  forget 
to  offer  her  compliments  to  the  river,  and  passed  as  she  had  done  before, 
Viperine  was  just  behind  her. 


Ii8  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"Get  out,  dirty  stream ! "  she  cried  ;  "  open  a  way,  or  I  will  dry  you  up." 

The  stream  opened,  but,  all  at  once,  when  Viperine  was  in  the  midst  of  it,  the 
waves  rose,  crept  over  the  witch,  and  drowned  her  in  an  instant.  The  nymph  was 
avenged. 

Once  more  at  home,  Fragolette  gave  the  strong-box  to  her  terrible  mistress. 
One  can  imagine  what  a  face  the  old  witch  made.  "  It  is  a  new  trick  of  Bele- 
bon,"  she  thought,  "  but  I  know  how  to  revenge  it.  He  who  laughs  last,  laughs 
best." 

That  same  evening  she  made  Fragolette  stay  and  go  to  bed  in  her  room. 

"  You  must  remain  here,"  she  said  to  her.  "  In  the  hennery  are  three  cocks. 
One  is  red,  the  other  is  black,  and  the  third  is  white.  To-night,  when  one  of 
these  cocks  crows,  you  must  tell  me  which  it  is.  Take  care  of  a  mistake ;  I  will 
only  make  one  mouthful  of  you." 

"  Belebon  will  not  be  there,"  Fragolette  said  to  herself,  "  I  am  lost."  And  she 
did  not  close  her  eyes  for  a  single  instant. 

At  midnight  a  cock  crowed. 

"  Which  one  is  this  that  has  crowed  ?  "  asked  the  witch. 

"  Belebon,"  murmured  Fragolette,  "  tell  me  which  crowed." 

"  Give  me  a  kiss,"  murmured  a  voice,  "  and  I  will  tell  you." 

"  No." 

"  Cruel  one— but  I  do  not  want  you  to  die  !     It  is  the  red  cock  that  crowed." 

The  witch  is  by  her  bed.     She  approaches  Fragolette. 

"  Answer,  or  I'll  eat  you  !  " 

"  It  is  the  red  cock  that  crowed,"  Fragolette  answered,  trembling. 

And  the  witch  went  back  to  her  bed,  grumbling. 

At  the  same  instant  another  cock-crow  was  heard. 

"  Which  cock  was  that  ?  "  cried  the  witch. 

And  Belebon  whispered  the  answer  to  his  well-beloved. 

And  the  old  witch  went  back  to  her  bed,  grumbling. 

At  the  break  of  day  they  heard  once  more  the  crow  of  a  cock. 

1  Belebon,  help  me  ?  "  cried  Fragolette. 

"  Give  me  a  kiss,"  he  said,  "  I've  had  enough  of  your  scruples!  " 

^d,!uere  ™aS  thC  WitGh  C°ming  toward  her  with  her  cruel  mouth  wide  open. 
,<  f ,     u        Cned  thC  gir1'  "  if  y°U  abandon  me>  70"  will  be  my  murderer."' 

the  white  cock  that  crows,"  answered  Belebon,  who  could  not  resist  her 
tenderness. 

"  It's  the  white  cock  !  "  cried  Fragolette. 


Fragolette.  119 

"  No  matter,  traitress,"  cried  the  witch  in  anger,  "your  hour  is  come.  You 
must  die  ! " 

She  sprang  on  her  prey.  But  Fragolette,  young  and  agile,  escaped  from  her, 
opened  a  window  and  jumped  out  into  the  garden.  The  witch  followed  in  a 
fury.  But  she  did  not  manage  well,  for  her  foot  caught  on  the  window  and  she 
fell,  head  first,  and  broke  out  at  one  blow  her  two  great  tusks.  In  these  two  tusks 
lay  all  her  power  and  life,  so  that  only  a  corpse  was  found  on  the  ground  in  the 
garden. 

Left  alone  with  Belebon,  Fragolette  often  asked  herself  what  would  become  of 
her.  She  did  not  think  of  returning  to  her  own  home.  She  was  an  orphan  and 
all  must  have  forgotten  her.  To  stay  in  the  house  where  she  had  suffered  so 
much.  Oh  !  she  could  not  think  of  that  either.  Belebon  said  nothing.  He  was 
happy  at  finding  himself  near  Fragolette  and  did  not  dare  consider  the  future. 

But  one  day  Fragolette  came  to  him  to  ask  for  her  liberty.  Belebon  could  not 
refuse  her  any  thing,  but  he  recalled  to  the  ungrateful  girl  all  he  had  done  for 
.her,  and  offered  her  his  heart  with  his  hand. 

"  No,"  said  Fragolette,  "  I  could  not  marry  the  son  of  a  witch." 

"  Go  then,"  said  poor  Belebon,  "go,  since  nothing  will  keep  you;  but  before 
leaving  me  to  mourn  in  this  house  far  from  you,  give  me  one  proof  of  friendship 
— the  only  one  I  shall  ever  receive  from  you.  Lay  your  hand  in  mine  and 
pardon  me  the  sin  of  my  birth.  Then  we  will  separate  like  two  strangers." 

She  held  out  her  hand,  and  he  took  it  and  covered  it  with  tears  and  kisses. 
She  did  not  draw  it  away,  and  she  regarded  him  with  a  singular  glance. 

"  Good-bye,  Fragolette,"  said  Belebon,  "  you  take  with  you  my  happiness  and 
my  life.  Happy,  a  thousand  times  happy,  will  be  the  one  to  whom  you  shall 
give  this  hand." 

"Ah,  well,"  said  she,  "since  you  have  taken  it — keep  it." 

He  raised  his  head,  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms  with  sobs.  And  she,  the  elf, 
she  took  his  head  and  kissed  his  brow,  and  began  to  laugh  and  cry  at  once.  One 
can  never  know  what  is  passing  in  the  heart  of  a  woman.  Two  days  after,  they 
were  married. 

So  the  story  finishes,  but  is  one  permitted  to  know  what  became  of  the 
couple?  Did  Belebon  continue  the  dangerous  practices  of  his  mother?  Did 
Fragolette  return  with  her  husband  to  the  life  of  common  mortals  ?  On  this 
subject  I  have  written  to  a  learned  Sicilian  member  of  the  Academy  at  Catania, 
Agrigente,  and  other  places.  Here  is  his  answer : 

"  MOST  ILLUSTRIOUS  AND  REVEREND  SIR — In  our  old  chronicles  I  find  no- 


120 


Laboulayds  Fairy  Tales. 


where  the  name  of  Fragolette,  nor  that  of  Belebon.  But  fearing  this  might 
have  been  from  lack  of  knowledge,  I  have  consulted  my  most  learned  brothers 
in  all  the  academies,  and  the  response  has  been,  that  in  all  the  races  who  have 
successively  conquered  Sicily, — Pelagians,  Phenicians,  Greeks,  Carthagenians, 
Romans,  Arabs,  Normans,  Spaniards,  and  others,  one  has  never  seen  a  sorcerer 


husband.     It  is  then  allowable  to  believe  that  once  married,  Belebon  has  been 
no  more  than  other  folks." 

So  this  is  the  result  of  my  research.     It  appears  to  me  wise  and  probable.     I 
leave  the  point  to  my  readers,  especially  those  of  the  feminine  gender. 


YVON  AND  FINETTE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  great  and  powerful  nobleman,  in  Brittany, 
whose  name  was  the  Baron  de  Clairvaux,  and  whose  estates  were  the 
finest  in  the  whole  province.  His  castle  was  built  in  the  Gothic  style,  and  the 
delicate  tracery  observable  in  its  architecture  had  the  appearance,  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, of  fine  lace-work.  The  windows  on  the  first-floor  opened  on  to  a  wide 
balcony,  and  were  of  stained  glass,  each  representing  some  historical  subject. 
Six  of  these  windows  looked  to  the  east  and  six  to  the  west,  and  every  morning 
before  the  Baron  rode  off  to  the  forest  on  his  bay  mare,  followed  by  his  beautiful 
greyhounds,  he  waved  farewell  to  his  six  daughters,  as  they  stood  at  the  east 
windows.  They  looked  like  six  Madonnas  in  their  niches,  with  their  beautiful 
blue  eyes,  their  golden  hair  floating,  and  their  lily  hands  joined  in  prayer  for  the 
welfare  of  the  house  of  Clairvaux.  In  the  evening,  when  the  Baron  returned 
home,  after  making  the  tour  of  his  property,  his  six  sons  were  standing  at  the 
west  windows,  watching  for  his  return.  They  looked  like  six  knights  sculptured 
on  some  cathedral  door,  with  their  chestnut  locks  and  noble  mien — the  pride  and 
glory  of  the  house  of  Clairvaux.  The  castle  had  twelve  windows,  but  the  Baron 
had  thirteen  children.  The  youngest  was  a  handsome  stripling  of  sixteen,  by 
name  Yvon.  He  was,  as  is  often  the  case  with  the  youngest,  his  father's  favor- 
ite. In  the  morning,  when  the  Baron  left  the  castle,  Yvon  accompanied  him  to 
the  door  to  bid  him  adieu  ;  and  in  the  evening  was  there  again  to  welcome  him 
home.  With  his  flaxen  hair  falling  in  rich  luxuriance  over  his  shoulders,  his 
slight  figure,  roguish  air,  and  independent  bearing,  he  was  the  idol  of  the  Bretons. 
At  the  age  of  twelve  he  killed  a  wolf,  which  act  of  prowess  gained  for  him  the 
title  of  "  Sans  Peur/'  a  name  he  well  deserved,  for  a  braver  heart  than  his  never 


122 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


beat.  One  day,  contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  the  Baron  remained  at  home.  He 
was  engaged  in  fencing  with  his  squire,  when  Yvon  entered  the  gallery  equipped 
for  traveling,  and  kneeling  upon  one  knee,  addressed  his  father  as  follows  : 

"  Father,  I  come  to  ask  your  blessing  ere  I  depart,  for  I  am  going  on  a  long 
journey.  The  house  of  Clairvaux  is  rich  in  knights,  and  well  supplied  with  sons  ; 
I  shall,  therefore,  not  be  missed.  So  I  am  going  abroad  to  carve  out  my  own 
fortune  and  to  make  my  name  famous." 

"  I  approve  of   thy  resolution,   my  son,"  replied  the  Baron,  who  was  more 

moved  than  he  cared  to  show  ;  "  far  be  it  from 
me  to  keep  thee  back — indeed,  I  have  no  right 
to  do  so — but  thou  art  somewhat  young  Yvon, 
were  it  not  better  to  wait  another  year  ?  " 

"  I  am  sixteen,  father,  and  at  that  age  you 
had  already  measured  swords  with  the  Due  de 
Rohan  ;  I  have  not  forgotten  that  the  arms  of 
our  family  are  a  lion  fighting  with  a  unicorn, 
and  that  our  motto  is  '  Forward  ! '  The  house 
of  Clairvaux  shall  not  have  reason  to  blush  for 
its  youngest  scion." 

Whereupon  Yvon,  re- 
ceived his  father's  bless- 
ing, shook  his  brothers 
by  the  hand,  kissed  his 
sisters,  bid  adieu  to  the 
weeping  vassals,  and 
took  his  departure  with 
a  light  heart.  No  ob- 
stacle seemed  to  daunt 
him  upon  his  journey  ; 

he  swam  across  wide  rivers,  scaled  high  mountains,  and  plunged  through  dense 
forests,  always  pursuing  his  journey  westward.  Whenever  any  difficulty  occurred, 
he  cried  "  Forward ! "  and  by  dint  of  his  indomitable  will  he  succeeded  in  sur- 
mounting each  in  turn.  Three  years  passed,  during  which  period  he  had 
wandered  all  over  the  world  in  search  of  adventures.  Sometimes  he  succeeded, 
and  sometimes  he  failed;  but  his  courage  and  good  temper  never  forsook  him. 
At  length  he  was  asked  to  organize  a  crusade  against  the  Norwegians.  To  ex- 
terminate the  heathen,  and  at  the  same  time  to  conquer  a  kingdom,  was  a  double 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


123 


temptation.  He  immediately  enrolled  twelve  knights  into  his  service,  freighted 
a  small  vessel,  ran  up  a  standard  to  the  mast  bearing  the  device  and  motto  of 
the  Clairvaux  upon  an  azure  ground,  and  set  sail.  The  sea  was  calm,  the  wind 
favorable,  and  the  night  fine.  Yvon  lay  upon  the  deck, 
watching  the  stars,  and  wondering  which  of  the  countless 
planets  was  shedding  its  pale  beams  over  the  maternal  man- 
sion, when  all  of  a  sudden  the  vessel  struck  upon  a  rock  with 
an  awful  crash,  the  masts  were  carried  away  like  rotten  timber, 
and  a  huge  wave  washed  right  over  the  deck,  sweeping  every 
thing  before  it. 

"  Forward !  "  cried  Yvon,  the  moment  his  head  appeared 
above  water,  and  he  began  swimming  as  coolly  and  collectedly 
as  if  he  were  bathing  in  the  castle  moat  at  home.  Fortunately  the  moon  rose  at 
that  juncture,  and  by  the  help  of  her  light  Yvon  discovered  a  dark  object  at  a 
little  distance  rising  out  of  the  silvery  expanse  of  waters.  It  was  land !  He 
made  for  it  at  once,  and  at  last,  with  some  difficulty,  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
shore.  Dripping  wet,  exhausted,  and  out  of  breath,  he  dragged  himself  along 
the  beach,  and  not  feeling  equal  to  any  further  efforts,  said  his  prayers,  and  fell 
asleep. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ON  awakening  the  next  morning,  our  hero  thought  he 
would  explore  the  strange  country  in  which  he  had 
been  thrown  by  fate.  The  first  object  he  saw  was  a  building 
as  large  as  a  cathedral,  with  windows  fifty  feet  high.  After 
walking  for  one  whole  day,  he  found  himself  before  an  enor- 
mous door,  the  knocker  of  which  was  much  too  heavy  for  any 
ordinary  person  to  lift.  Picking  up  a  big  stone,  he  knocked 
on  the  door  with  it.  "  Enter !  "  roared  a  voice  from  within  ;  at 
the  same  instant  the  door  flew  open,  and  Yvon  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  a  giant  forty  feet  high. 

"  Who  art  thou,  and  what  dost  thou  want  ?  "  said  the  giant, 
lifting    Yvon   off  the    ground  by  the  collar,  in  order  to  ex- 
amine   him   more   closely. 

"  My  name  is  '  Sans  Peur/  and  I  wish  to  make  my  fortune,"  replied  his  visitor, 
defiantly. 


124 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Bravo,  valiant  '  Sans  Peur,1  "  said  the  giant,  in  a  mocking  tone  :  "  thy  fortune 
is  made  then,  for  I  am  in  want  of  a  servant ;  enter  my  service,  and  thou  shalt 
begin  thy  duties  at  once.  I  am  about  to  lead  my  flocks  and  herds  out  to  pasture ; 
in  my  absence  do  thou  clean  out  the  stable  ;  more  than  this  I  do  not  require  thee 
to  do.  So  thou  seest  I  am  a  good  master,"  he  added  with  a  chuckle.  "  Do  thy 
duty,  and  above  all,  do  not  enter  the  house,  on  peril  of  thy  life." 

"  He  certainly  is  a  good  master,  for  the  work  is  light  enough,"  thought  Yvon, 
when  the  giant  was  gone.  "  There  is  plenty  of  time  to  sweep  out  the  stable  in. 
What  can  I  do  in  the  meantime  to  amuse  myself  ?  I  think  I  shall  go  and  have 

a  look  at  the  house.  He  told  me  I  was 
not  to  go  in,  so  it  is  sure  to  be  worth  see- 
ing." So  saying,  he  walked  boldly  in. 
In  the  first  room  there  was  a  huge  fire, 
place,  before  which  a  caldron  was  hang, 
ing  to  a  hook,  but  there  was  no  fire  in 
the  grate. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  thought 
Yvon.  "  It  is  most  mysterious ! "  and 
cutting  off  a  lock  of  his  hair,  he  dipped 
it  into  the  caldron.  Lo,  and  behold !  on 
drawing  it  out,  he  found  it  covered  with 
copper.  "  Ho,  ho !  "  cried  he,  "  this  is  a 
new  kind  of  soup  ;  I  should  be  afraid  of 
having  a  coating  of  armor  inside  me  if 
I  drank  this  stuff." 

He  then  went  into  the  second  room, 

where  he  saw  another  caldron  hanging  before  an  empty  grate.  Yvon  dipped 
a  lock  of  hair  into  this  one  also,  and  when  he  drew  it  out  it  was  covered  with  silver. 
"At  home,"  said  he  to  himself,  "our  soups  are  not  so  rich,  but  I  back  them  to 
have  a  better  flavor."  Saying  which,  he  walked  into  the  third  room,  and  there 
he  saw  another  caldron  boiling  away  without  any  fire.  Yvon  dipped  a  lock  of 
hair  into  it,  and  what  was  his  surprise  to  find,  upon  drawing  it  out,  that  it 
was  covered  with  gold!  "This  beats  all,"  cried  he.  "We  have  a  Breton 
proverb,  which  says,  «  From  bad  to  worse/ but  here  it  is  always  better  and  better. 
I  wonder  what  I  shall  find  in  the  fourth  room.  A  diamond  soup,  I  suppose!" 
s  spoke  he  pushed  the  door  open,  and  a  sight  met  his  eyes  which  was  much 
more  wonderful  than  the  precious  stones  he  had  expected.  A  maiden  of  such 


AN' 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


125 


transcendent  loveliness,  that  he  was  quite  dazzled,  and  he  involuntarily  threw 
himself  upon  his  knees  before  her. 

"  Unhappy  boy !  "  exclaimed  she..  "  what  are  you  doing  here? " 
"  I  am  a  servant  of 
the  house,"  replied 
Yvon  ;  "  the  giant  en- 
gaged me  this  morn- 
ing." 

"  Engaged  you  !  "  re- 
peated the  girl ;  "  then 
may  Heaven  deliver  you 
from  such  a  service  as 
soon  as  possible." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Yvon. 

"  He  is  a  good  master,  and  my  work  could  not  be 
lighter.  I  have  only  got  to  sweep  out  the  stable,  and  do 
what  I  like  for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

"  And  how  are  you  going  to  sweep  it  ? "  she  asked. 
"  If  you  do  as  your  predecessors  did,  you  will  find  ten 
heaps  of  rubbish  come  in  at  the  window  for  every  one 
you  sweep  out  of  the  door.  But  I  will  tell  you  what  to 
do.  Turn  the  pitchfork  round  and  sweep  with  the  handle, 
and  you  will  find  that  your  work  will  be  done  at  a  single 
stroke." 

"  I  shall  certainly  follow  your  advice,  and  thank  you," 
said  Yvon,  seating  himself,  and  entering  into  conversa- 
tion with  the  fair  stranger,  who,  I  must  tell  you,  was  a 
fairy's  daughter,  and  a  slave  of  the  giant.  It  does  not 
take  long  for  two  people  to  become  acquainted  who  are 
companions  in  misfortune  ;  and  before  the  end  of  the  day 
Finette,  for  such  was  the  maiden's  name,  had  promised 
to  marry  Yvon,  provided  they  should  both  succeed  in 
escaping  from  their  odious  master.  The  difficulty  was 
how  to  manage  it.  Time  flies  in  agreeable  conversation 
such  as  theirs,  and  evening  was  drawing  on,  when  Finette 
had  to  remind  her  new  friend  of  his  duties,  which  had 
to  be  accomplished  before  the  giant's  return. 


126 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


Taking  up  the  pitchfork,  Yvon  thought  that  he  would  use  it  as  he  had  seen  it 
used  in  the  stables  at  home,  but  he  soon  had  enough  of  it,  for  Finette's  prophecy 
came  true,  and  the  poor  boy  was  nearly  suffocated.  He  then  bethought  himself 
of  Finette's  instructions,  and  turning  the  pitchfork  round,  began  sweeping  with 
the  handle.  In  a  twinkling  the  stable  was  as  clean  as  if  no  horse  had  ever 
entered  it.  His  work  done,  Yvon  seated  himself  in  the  porch  and  waited  for  the 

giant's  return.  As  soon  as  he  came 
in  sight,  Yvon  threw  back  his  head. 
began  flourishing  his  legs  wildly 
about,  and  hummed  a  Breton 
melody. 

"Hast  cleaned  out  the  stable?'7 
asked  the  giant,  frowning. 

"  Yes,  master,"  replied  Yvon,  with- 
out rising. 

"  We  shall  soon  see  that/'  roared 
the  giant,  as  he  entered  the  stable, 
grumbling.  Contrary  to  his  expec- 
tation, he  found  it  perfectly  clean, 
and  he  rushed  out  in  a  towering  rage. 
"  You  have  seen  my  Finette !  "  he 
cried ;  "  you  would  not  have  found 
out  how  to  do  it  without  her  help." 
"  What  is  Myfinette  ?  "  said  Yvon, 
opening  his  mouth,  and  half  clos- 
ing his  eyes  in  an  idiotic  manner. 
"  Is  it  an  animal  ?  Do  show  it  tc 
me." 

"  Hold    thy   tongue,    fool !  '    an' 
swered  the  giant ;  "  thou  shalt  see  her  soon  enough." 

The  next  day  the  giant  called  Yvon  before  taking  his  sheep  out  to  pasture, 
and  told  him  to  fetch  his  horse  home,  which  was  grazing  on  the  mountain  side. 
After  which,  he  told  him,  with  a  chuckle,  he  might  amuse  himself.  "  Thou  seest 
that  I  am  a  good  master.  Do  thy  duty,  and  do  not  go  into  the  house,  or  I  will 
cut  off  thy  head." 

Yvon  winked  knowingly  as  the  giant  moved  away.  "I  have  got  a  good 
master  and  no  mistake;  he  is  very  harmless ;  but  I  am  going  into  the  house, 


Yvon  and  Finette.  127 

whatever  he  says,  and  have  another  talk  with  Finette.     I  should  like  to  know 
which  she  belongs  to  most — to  him  or  to  me  ?  " 

So  saying,  he  went  into  the  house,  and  straight  up  to  the  room  occupied  by 
Finette.  "  Hurrah  ! "  cried  he,  as  he  entered  ;  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  to-day  but 
fetch  his  horse  home  from  the  mountain." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Finette,  "  and  may  I  ask  how  you  intend  to  do  it  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  asking  such  a  question  ?  "  said  Yvon.  "  Where  is  the 
difficulty  of  catching  a  horse  and  bringing  him  home  ?  I  have  ridden  worse 
animals  than  that,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  It  is  not  as  easy  as  you  think,"  replied  Finette  ;  "  but  I  will  tell  you  what  you 
must  do.  When  you 
get  near  the  horse 
you  will  see  fire  and 
smoke  coming  out  of 
his  nostrils  like  out  of 
a  furnace ;  but  if  you 
take  the  bit  that  you 
will  find  behind  the 
stable  door,and  throw- 
it  into  his  mouth, 
he  will  become  as 
quiet  as  a  lamb  and 
will  let  you  do  any 
thingwith  him." 

"  I  shall  certainly  follow  your  advice,"  said  Yvon,  saying  which  he  seated  him. 
self  beside  Finette  and  began  talking  to  her. 

Do  you  want  to  know  what  they  talked  about  ?  Well,  about  every  thing,  and 
a  great  deal  else  besides  ;  but  whatever  the  conversation  turned  upon,  it  always 
veered  round  again  to  the  subject  of  their  engagement,  and  how  they  were  to 
manage  their  escape  from  the  giant.  Time  flies  in  agreeable  conversation  like 
theirs.  Evening  was  closing  in,  and  Yvon  had  completely  forgotten  the  horse 
he  was  to  fetch  home.  Finette  was  obliged  to  remind  him  of  his  duty,  and  sent 
him  away  to  perform  it  before  the  giant's  return.  He  took  the  bit  down  from 
behind  the  stable  door  and  ran  to  the  mountain.  There  he  saw  ahorse  nearly  as 
big  as  an  elephant  coming  at  full  speed  toward  him,  with  fire  and  smoke  pouring 
out  of  his  nostrils.  Yvon  waited  till  the  huge  beast  came  close  to  him,  and 
then,  just  as  he  opened  his  enormous  jaws,  threw  the  bit  into  his  mouth.  The 


128 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


effect  was  magical— in  a  moment  the  horse  became  as  quiet  as  a  lamb.     Yvon 
made  him  go  down  upon  his  knees,  jumped  on  his  back,  and  rode  him  quietly  up 

to  the  house.  His  work  accomplished,  the 
young  Breton  seated  himself  in  the  porch 
in  front  of  the  house.  As  soon  as  he  saw 
the  giant  coming  he  threw  back  his  head, 
flourished  his  legs  wildly  about,  and 
hummed  a  Breton  melody. 

"Hast  caught  the  horse?"  inquired  the 
giant,  frowning. 

"  Yes,  master,"  replied  Yvon,  without 
moving.  "  That  horse  does  you  credit,  he 
is  a  beauty,  and  so  gentle ;  he  is  in  the 
stable." 

"  We  shall  soon  see  that,"  roared  the 
giant,  as  he  entered  the  stable,  grumb- 
ling. 

Finding  the  horse  there,  he  came  out  in 
a  towering  rage. 

"You  have  seen  my  Finette,"  he  cried, 
"  or  you  would  never  have  known  how  to 
do  it  by  yourself." 

"  Master,"  said  Yvon,  opening  his  mouth 
and  half  shutting  his  eyes,  "  once  for  all, 
who  or  what  is  Myfinette  ?  Will  you  let 
me  see  the  creature  ?  " 

"  Hold  thy  tongue,  fool ! "  said  the  giant ; 
"  thou  shalt  see  her  soon  enough,  I  warrant 
thee." 

On  the  third  day  at  dawn  the  giant  was 
calling  his  sheep  together  to  take  them  out 
to  pasture,  when  he  said  to  Yvon — 

"To-day  thou  must  go  to  the  Infernal 
Regions  to  get  my  rent,  after  which,"  he 
said,  with  a  chuckle,  "  amuse  thyself.     See  what  a  pattern  master  I  am." 

"  That  he  certainly  is,"  thought  Yvon  ;    "  but  the  task  is  none  the  easier.     I 
shall  go  and  see '  Myfinette,'  as  the  giant  calls  her  ;  I  want  her  advice  badly  to-day.". 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


129 


When  he  told  Finette  what  his  orders  were,  she  asked  him  how  he  intended  to 
carry  them  out. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Yvon  sadly.     "  I  have  never  been  to  the  Infernal 
Regions,  and  should  not  know  what  to  ask  for ;  pray 
enlighten  me  ?  " 

"  Do  you  see  that  big  rock  over  there  ? "  asked 
Finette.  "  That  is  one  of  the  gates  of  the  Internals. 
Take  this  stick,  strike  three  times  upon  the  stone, 
and  you  will  see  a  demon  spouting  fire  appear  before 
you.  Tell  him  the  object  of  your  visit ;  he  will  ask 
how  much  you  want,  to  which  you  must  answer, '  Not 
more  than  I  can  carry  away  with  me.'  " 

"  I  will  follow  your  instructions,"  said  Yvon,  seat- 
ing himself  beside  Finette  and  entering  into  conversation  with  her ;  and  I  verily 
believe  he  would  have  been   talking  still   if  the  girl  had  not  sent  him  away  to 

execute  the  giant's  or- 
ders as  daylight  began  to 
fade. 

When  he  reached  the 
spot  pointed  out  by  Fi- 
nette he  found  himself  in 
front  of  a  huge  granite 
rock,  which  he  struck 
three  times  with  his  stick. 
The  rock  flew  open,  and 
a  demon  appeared  spout- 
ing fire. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 
cried  he  in  a  terrible 
voice. 

"  I  have  come  for  the 
giant's  rent,"  answered 
Yvon,  in  an  unmoved 
voice. 

"How    much    is  it?M 

said  the  demon. 

"  Not  more  than  I  can  carry  away  with  me,"  answered  our  hero. 


330 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


Enter  this 


"  It  is  lucky  you  have  not  asked  for  more,"  said  the  fiery  imp. 
cave,  and  you  will  find  what  you  require." 

Yvon  obeyed  without  hesitation,  and  was  astounded  by  the 
sight  that  met  his  eyes.     Gold,  silver,  diamonds,  rubies,  and  em- 
eralds lay  upon  the  ground  as  thick  as  the  sand  on  the  sea-shore. 
Filling   a  sack    with  these  treasures,  Yvon  threw  it  across 
his  shoulders  and  returned  home. 

He  then  seated  himself  inside  the  porch,  and  as  soon  as 
he  saw  the  giant  coming  he  threw  his  head  back,  flourished 
his  legs  wildly  about,  and  hummed  a  Breton  melody. 

"  Hast  thou  been  to  the  Infernal  Regions  to  fetch  my  rent  ?  "  demanded  the 
giant,  frowning. 

"  Yes,  master,"  replied  Yvon,  without  moving ;  "  the  sack  is  lying  there,  and 

the  amount  of  your  rent  is  inside." 

"We  shall  soon  see  that,"  roared  the 
giant,  as  he  opened  the  sack,  which 
was  so  full  that  the  gold  and  silver 
came  tumbling  out  on  all  sides. 

"  You  have  seen  my  Finette,"  he 
cried;  "you  could  not  have  known 
what  to  do  else." 

"  Master,"  said  Yvon,  opening  his 
mouth  and  half  shutting  his  eyes, 

"  you  are  always  harping  on  the  same  string,  Myfinette,  Myfinette  !     I  must  see 
this  mysterious  being." 

"  Well,  thou  shalt  see  her,"  cried  the  giant  in  a  rage.     "  Wait  till  to-morrow, 
and  thou  shalt  make  her  acquaintance." 

"  Thank  you,  master,"  said  Yvon,  "  that  is  very  polite  of  you  ;  but  I  can  see 
by  your  face  that  you  are  taking  me  in." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  next  day  the  giant  left  the  house  without  giving  any  orders  to  Yvon  at 
all,  which  fact  greatly  disturbed  Finette.     About  noon  he  returned,  without 
his  sheep,  and  complained  of  the  heat  and  of  being  fatigued. 

"  Go  to  the  front  door,"  he  said  to  Finette,  "  and  you  will  see  a  lad  there,  my 


Yvon  and  Finettc. 


servant.     Cut  off  his  nead  and  throw  it  into  the  largest  saucepan,  and  call  me 
when  the  soup  is  ready." 

After  giving  this  order  he  lay  down  on  his  bed  and  was  soon  fast  asleep.  His 
snores  sounded  like 
distant  thunder  rum- 
bling over  the  mount- 
ains. Finette  pre- 
pared a  block,  armed 
herself  with  a  large 
knife,  and  called  Yvon 
to  her.  She  cut  his 
little  finger  slightly, 
and  three  drops  of 
blood  fell  upon  the 
block. 

"  That  will  do,"  she 
said;  "now  help  me 
to  fill  the  saucepan." 

They  threw  into  it 
every  thing  they  could 
lay  hands  on  —  old 
clothes,  boots  and 
shoes,  rugs,  and  a 
thousand  and  one 
things  besides.  Fi- 
nette then  took  Yvon 
by  the  hand  and  led 
him  through  the  three 
rooms  on  the  ground 
floor.  From  the  cal- 
dron in  the  first  of 
these  she  cast  three 
golden  balls,  from 
that  in  the  second  two 
silver  balls,  and  from 

the  one  in  the  third  one  copper  ball.     Taking  these  with  her,  she  ran  out  of  the 
house  with  Yvon. 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Forward  !  "  cried  the  latter,  when  he  found  himself  in  the  open  country; 
Will  you  explain  the  meaning  of  this  little  game,  my  dear  Finette  ?  " 
"  Fly!  fly  1     We  must  escape,"  she  answered.   "  If  we  have  not  left  this  odious 
island  by  sunset  we  are  lost." 

"  Forward  !  "  said  Yvon,  laughing  ;  "  a  fig  for  the 
giant  !  " 

After  snoring  for  about  an  hour  the  ogre  stretched 
himself,  opened  one  eye,  and  called  out  — 
"  Is  it  ready?" 

"  It  has  only  just  begun  to  boil,"  answered  the  first 
drop  of  blood  upon  the  block. 

The  giant  turned  round  and  resumed  his  snoring  for 
about  an  hour  or  two  ;  then,  stretching  himself  and 
opening  one  eye,  he  called  out  — 
"  Dost  hear?  is  it  ready?" 

"  It  is  simmering  now,"  answered  the  second  drop 
of  blood. 

The  giant  turned  round  and  slept  for  another  hour, 
after  which  he  awoke  and  called  out  impatiently  — 
"  Is  is  not  ready  yet  ?  " 
"  It  is  quite  ready  now," 
answed  the  third  drop  of 
blood. 

The  giant  raised  him- 
self on  his  elbow,  and, 
rubbing  his  eyes,  looked 
round  to  see  who  had 
answered  him,  but  he 
looked  in  vain,  he  could 
see  no  one. 

"  Finette,"  he  roared, 
'*  where  is  my  dinner  ?  " 

No  answer.    The  ogre 
leaped  from  his  bed  in  a 
rage,  took  up  a  gigantic  spoon,  plunged  it  into  the  caldron  which  was  hanging  in 
front  of  the  fireplace,  and  tasted  the  contents. 

44  Finette,"  he  bellowed,  "  thou  hast  not  seasoned  it  ;  what  sort  of  broth  dost 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


133 


thou  call  this  ?  It  does  not  taste  like  fish,  flesh,  or  fowl."  And,  catching  sight 
of  a  piece  of  a  rug  which  was  not  quite  boiled  down,  he  literally  danced  with 
rage. 

"  Villains  ! "  he  cried,  "  you  have  deceived  me,  but  I'll  be  even  with  you  yet." 

Saying  which  he  seized  a  stick  and  rushed  out  of  doors.     His  strides  were  so 

enormous  that  in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  came  in  sight  of  the  fugitives, 

who  were  still  some  distance  from  the  sea-shore,  and  he  woke  the  echoes  for 

twenty  miles  round  with  his  shouts  of  fiendish  joy.     Poor  Finette  trembled  so 

violently  that  she  could  scarcely  stand,  but  Yvon 
pressing  her  to  his  heart,  cried — 

"  Forward  !  we   have   not   far  to  go  now,  and 
shall  reach  the  sea  before  he  comes  up  with  us." 
"  Here   he  is !  here  he  is ' "  shrieked  Finette, 
pointing  to  the  giant, 
who  was  not  a  hundred 
yards  off.     "We  are 
lost   if    this    talisman 
fails." 

And  throwing  the 
copper  ball  on  the 
ground,  she  said — 

"O  copper  ball!   O  copper 

ball! 

Let  us  not  in  his  clutches 
fall ! " 

The  words  had 
scarce  left  her  lips 
when  the  ground  was 
rent  asunder  with  a 
terrible  noise,  and  an  enormous  chasm  divided  them  from  the  giant,  who  had 
already  stretched  out  one  hand  to  seize  his  prey. 

"  Come,  let  us  fly,"  cried  Finette,  pulling  her  companion  by  the  arm  as  he 
stood  laughing  at  the  giant's  discomfiture,  and  singing — 


1  Ogre,  ogre,  funny  old  man  ! 
Try  and  catch  us  if  you  can  I ' 


J34 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


The  giant  rushed  madly  backward  and  forward  along  the  edge  of  the  preci. 
pice  trying  to  find  a  way  across,  but  in  vain.  At  last,  in  a  fury,  he  uprooted  a 
huge  oak  and  hurled  it  across  the  chasm,  the  tree  in  its  fall  nearly  crushing  the 

young  people  with  its 
great  branches.  The 
giant  then  placed 
himself  across  this 
impromptu  bridge 
and  rode  on  it  as  if  he 
were  upon  horseback, 
the  tree  bending  and 
swaying  beneath  his 
enormous  weight. 

Hanging  thus  be- 
tween heaven  and 
earth,  he  worked 
himself  along,  but 
his  progress  was  nec- 
essarily slow,  for  he 
found  some  trouble 
in  disentangling  him- 
self  from  among  the 
branches. 

When  he  had  ac- 
complished his  jour- 
ney,  Yvon  and 
Finette  had  already 
reached  the  shore, 
and  the  open  sea 
was  before  them. 
Alas !  there  was  not 
a  sail  in  sight.  Their 
case  seemed  hopeless ; 
but  Yvon,  undaunted 
.  as  usual,  began  pick- 

:  up  the  pebbles  on  the  beach  with  which  he  purposed  to  attack  the   giant, 
:rmmed,  if  he  had  to  die,  not  to  surrender  without  a  struggle.     Finette's  ex. 


Yvon  and  Fine  tic. 


135 


citement    was    intense.     She   took   one   of  the  silver  balls  in  her  hand,   and 
repeated  these  words — 

"  O  ball  of  silver  gleaming  bright, 
Save  us  from  our  wretched  plight !  " 

Scarcely  had  she  pronounced  this  cabalistic 
sentence,  when  a  ship  in  full  sail,  looking  just 
like  a  beautiful  swan  with  its  snowy  wings  out- 
spread, rose  mysteriously  out  of  the  water. 
Yvon  and  Finette  had  to  run  a  few  yards  into 
the  sea  to  catch  the  rope  which  was  thrown  to 
them  from  the  ship,  and  the  giant  arriving  at 
that  moment  on  the  beach,  panting  and  fuming, 
was  just  in  time  to  see  the  vessel  sailing  rapidly 
away,  leaving  a  long  line  of  silvery  foam  in  her 
wake. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  giants  have  an 
antipathy  to  water.  Old  Homer  knew  it  when 
he  associated  it  with  Polyphemus,  and  we  find 
it  authenticated  in  all  books  on  Natural  His- 
tory worthy  of  the  name.  Finette's  late  master 
was  not  an  exception  to  the  rule.  He  swore 
roundly  when  he  saw  that  his  slaves  had  es- 
caped him,  and  ran  up  and  down  the  beach,  not 
knowing  what  to  do.  He  hurled  huge  pieces 
of  rock  after  the  ship,  which  happily  fell  on 
either  side  of  it,  making  a  great  splash  as  they 
displaced  the  water. 

At  last,  frantic  with  anger,  he  plunged  into 
the  sea,  and  began  swimming  toward  the  ship 
with  inconceivable  rapidity.  He  cleared  forty 
feet  at  each  stroke,  cleaving  the  waters  in  his 
progress  like  a  powerful  whale,  and  snorting  like 
one. 

He  was  gaining  on  his  enemies — one  stroke  more  and  he  would  have  been  able 
to  seize  the  helm ;  in  fact  he  had  already  stretched  out  his  hand  to  do  so,  when 


J56  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

Finette  threw  the  second  silver  ball  into  the  sea,  and  cried  in  a  voice  broken 
with  sobs — 

"  O  ball  of  silver  gleaming  bright, 
Save  us  from  our  wretched  plight ! " 

Suddenly,  out  of  the  middle  of  the  foaming  waves,  appeared  a  gigantic  broad- 
sword,  measuring  at  least  twenty  feet  in  length.  It  was  raised  as  if  to  strike  the 
ogre,  and  he  only  just  managed  to  elude  it  by  plunging  beneath  the  water.  But  the 
naked  blade  chased  him  wherever  he  darted  to  escape  it,  and  he  was  obliged  at  last 

to  swim  for  his  life 
toward  the  island, 
which  he  succeeded 
in  reaching  half-dead 
with  his  superhuman 
exertions,  and  he 
threw  himself,  van- 
quished  and  exhaust- 
ed, upon  the  strand. 
"  Forward  !  "  cried 
Yvon,  "we  are 
saved ! " 

"  Not  yet, '  replied 
Finette,  who  was 
trembling  all  over. 
"  The  giant's  god- 
mother is  a  witch, 

and  I  fear  she  will  visit  her  godson's  wrongs  upon  me.  Do  not  leave  me  for 
an  instant,  Yvon.  Something  within  me  tells  me  that  if  you  do,  I  shall  have 
every  thing  to  fear  until  our  nuptials  are  solemnized  in  the  chapel  at  Clairvaux. 

"  By  the  unicorn  of  my  ancestors,"  replied  he,  "you  are  not  worthy  to  be  a 
Breton  !  Am  I  not  by  your  side  ?  Do  I  mean  to  forsake  you  ?  What  are  you 
afraid  of,  then  ?  Do  you  think  we  have  been  delivered  out  of  the  clutches  of 
that  monster  to  be  shipwrecked  in  sight  of  land  ?  " 

He  laughed  heartily  as  he  spoke,  showing  as  he  did  so  a  dazzling  row  of  teeth, 
and  Finette  was  forced  to  join  in  and  laugh  with  him  at  her  foolish  fears.  Happy 
days  of  youth !  The  sun  shines  so  brightly  after  the  showers,  the  brightest  days 
of  after-life  are  not  to  be  compared  even  to  your  saddest  ones. 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


137 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HP  HE  rest  of  the  journey  was  performed  as  if  by  magic.     It  seemed  as  if 
-I-       some  invisible  power  were  driving  the  ship  toward  the  shores  of  Brittany. 

Twenty  days   after  the 

commencement  of    the 

voyage  they  rode  into  a 

little  bay  close  to  the 

Castle     of      Clairvaux. 

Yvon  stepped  on  shore 

with  Finette,  and  turned 

round  to  thank  the  crew 

for  their  exertions,  but 

not  a  vestige  of  the  ship 

was  to  be  seen!     It  had 

vanished       completely, 

leaving  no   more  trace 

behind  it  than  a  sea-gull 

leaves  in  its  flight. 
Yvon  recognized  the 

spot  as  one  where  he  had  often  collected  shells  as  a  child,  and  where  many  a 

time  he  had  hunted  the  tiny  crabs  out  of  their  holes. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  he  would  see  once  more  the 
Gothic  towers  of  his  old  home,  and  his  heart  beat 
loudly  as  he  turned  and  gazed  fondly  at  Finette.  For 
the  first  time  he  observed  that  her  dress  was  most  fan- 
tastic, and  utterly  unsuited  to  the  position  of  a  lady 
about  to  be  allied  to  the  house  of  Clairvaux. 

"  Dearest  one,"  said  he,  "my  father  is  of  noble  rank 
and  accustomed  to  receive  homage  from  every  one.  I 
cannot  introduce  you  to  him  in  that  dress,  nor  can  I 
permit  of  your  approaching  the  castle  on  foot ;  it  is 

only  inferiors  who  travel  thus.     Wait  a  few  moments  till  I  return.     I  am  going 

to  borrow  a  rich  robe,  and  a  palfrey  for  you  to  ride,  from  one  of  my  sisters,  for 

I  choose  that  you  should  be  received  as  a  lady  of  rank,  and  my  father  himself 

fihall  descend  the  steps  to  meet  you  and  lead  you  into  the  castle." 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Oh,  Yvon,  Yvon,  do  not  leave  me  !  "  cried  Finette.     "  I  know  you  will  forget 
me  the  moment  you  enter  the  castle  gates." 

"  Forget  you  !  "  replied  Yvon.     "  If  any  one  else  had  said  such  a  thing  to  me; 

my  sword  would  have  taught  him  how  to 
doubt  the  word  of  a  Clairvaux.  The  Bretons 
are  true  to  the  core,  as  every  one  knows,  but 
they  are  obstinate  tooj.no  one  will  deny 
that." 

Poor  little  Finette  found  it  was  no  use  try. 
ing  to  alter  his  decision,  though  she  besought 
him  in  her  most  coaxing  tones.  She  was 
obliged  to  give  in  at  last,  sorely  against  the 
grain. 

"Go  along,  then,"  she  said,  "but  do  not 
stay  longer  than  you  can  help ;  speak  to  no 
one  but  your  own  family ;  only  go  to  the 
stables,  and  return  as  soon  as  possible.  You 
will  find  yourself  surrounded  by  people,  but 
you  must  pretend  not  to  see  them — and  above 
all  do  not  eat  or  drink  any  thing.  If  you 
drink  but  a  glass  of  water  harm  will  come  of 
it,  and  we  shall  both  suffer." 

Yvon  promised  to  attend  to  all  Finette's 
injunctions,  but  he  laughed  at  her  fears.  He 
felt  sure  of  himself,  and  prided  himself  on 
being  very  different  from  the  volatile  French, 
who  change  their  minds  so  easily.  When 
Yvon  entered  the  castle  he  had  some  difficulty 
in  recognizing  it,  such  an  unusual  appearance 
did  the  somber  old  walls  present.  All  the 
windows  were  adorned  with  flowers  and  foliage 
inside  and  out,  and  the  courtyard  was  hung 
with  festoons.  On  one  side  were  long  tables 
groaning  with  food  and  wine,  and  on  the  other 

musicians  were  playing  upon  a  dais  raised  upon  casks ;  while  youths  and  maidens 
dressed  out  in  all  their  finery,  were  singing  and  dancing. 

It  was  evidently  a  ffa  day  at   the  castle;  the  Baron  himself  joined  in  th« 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


139 


festivities,  for  you  must  know  that  he  was  celebrating  the  marriage  of  his  fifth 
daughter  to  the  Chevalier  de  Roquefort,  and  this  union  was  a  feather  in  the  cap 
of  the  ancient  house  of  Clairvaux.  Yvon  was  recog- 
nized by  every  one,  and  he  received  a  perfect  ovation 
from  all  sides  ;  he  was  surrounded  by  all  the  members 
of  his  family,  who  crowded  round  him  to  embrace 
him  and  shake  hands  with  him.  Where  had  he 
been?  What  had  he  been  doing?  Had  he  con- 
quered a  kingdom  ?  or  had  he  become  possessed 
of  a  duchy?  or  perhaps  a  barony?  And  had  he 
brought  a parnre  of  diamonds  for  the  bride?  Had 
the  fairies  befriended  him  ?  And  how  many  rivals 
had  he  overthrown  in  the 
tilting-field  ?  A  perfect 
fire  of  questions  was 
poured  in  on  him  at  once. 
Yvon  kissed  his  father's 
hand  respectfully,  and 
made  his  way  straight 
through  the  people  up  to 
his  sisters'  apartments, 
selected  two  of  their  most 

gorgeous  robes,  then  went  to  the  stables,  saddled  one 
of  the  palfreys  and  mounted  a  fine  Spanish  jennet 
himself.  He  was  leaving  the  grounds,  when  he  was 
waylaid  by  all  his  relations  and  friends,  and  his  squires 
and  vassals,  with  glasses  in  their  hands,  who  all  wished 
to  drink  the  health  of  their  young  lord,  and  to  wish 
him  a  safe  return.  Yvon  thanked  them,  one  and  all, 
with  high-born  grace ;  he  waved  farewell  to  his  assem- 
bled friends,  and  with  some  difficulty  made  his  way 
through  the  crowd.  Just  as  he  reached  the  outer 
gates,  and  was  going  to  cross  the  drawbridge,  which 
had  been  lowered,  a  lady  approached  him  whom  he 
did  not  recognize.  He  conjectured  that  she  was  the  bridegroom's  sister;  she 
was  very  fair,  and  had  a  somewhat  haughty  expression,  and  held  a  lady-apple 
in  her  hand. 


140 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Noble  sir,"  said  she,  with  a  strange  smile,  "you  will  not  refuse  a  request  from 
a  lady,  I  am  sure.     I  beg  you  to  taste  this  apple.     Even  should  you   not  be 

either  hungry  or  thirsty, 
after  your  long  journey, 
you  know  the  laws  of 
gallantry  too  well  to  say 
me  nay." 

This  appeal  Yvon  did 
not  dare  to  refuse;  but 
it  was  a  fatal  error.  He 
had  scarcely  taken  one 
bite  out  of  the  apple, 
when  he  looked  round 
like  a  man  waking  out  of  a  dream. 

"  What  am  I  doing  on  horseback  ?  "  thought  he  ;  "  and  why  am  I  leading  this 
palfrey  ?  My  proper  place  is  by  my  father's  side  at  my  sister's  wedding.  What 
am  I  leaving  this  castle  for?  " 

He  gave  the  reins  to  a  groom,  leaped  lightly  to  the  ground,  and  offered  his 
hand  to  the  fair  lady,  who  accepted  him  as  her  cavalier,  and  she  gave  him  her 
bouquet  to  hold  as  a  mark  of  her  favor.     Before  the  day  was  over  there  was 
another  affianced  couple  at  the  Castle  of  Clairvaux.     Yvon  had  pledged  his  troth 
to   the   fair  inconnue,  and 
Finette  was  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  V. 

T  N  the  meanwhile  Finette 

-L    waited  in  vain  by  the 

seashore  for  Yvon's  return. 

The  sun  sank  to  rest  behind 
the  crimson  waves,  and  Finette,  sighing  deeply,  rose  and  took  the  path  which  led 
to  the  castle.  Her  way  led  her  through  a  hollow,  thickly  grown  with  furze, 
bushes ;  she  had  not  gone  very  far  when  she  found  herself  in  front  of  a  dilapi- 
dated  cottage,  at  the  door  of  which  sat  an  old  hag  milking  a  cow. 

Finette  made  a  courtesy  to  the  old  woman,  and  begged  for  a  night's  shelter 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


141 


With  her  slippers  edged  with  fur,  her  full  skirt  of  russet  brown,  her  blue  bodice 
trimmed  with  bugles,  and  her  diadem,  she  looked  more  like  a  gipsy  than  a 
Christian  woman.  The  hag  stared  at  her  from  head  to  foot,  frowned,  and  shak- 
ing her  fist  at  the  poor  homeless  wanderer,  cried — 

"  Begone,  sorceress !  I  have  no  room  in  my  respectable  house  for  such  as 
thee." 

"  Good  mother,"  said  Finette,  "  a  corner  of  the  stable  is  all  I  ask  for." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  replied  the  old  woman,  showing  the  only  tooth  in  her  head, 
and  which  stuck  straight  out  in  a  most  aggressive  manner,  "  I  will  let  thee  have  9 
corner  of  the  stable  if  thou  wilt  give  me  this  milk-pail  full  of  gold." 

"  I  close  with  the 
bargain,"  said  Fi- 
nette, quietly,  as  she 
opened  the  leathern 
bag  hanging  at  her 
girdle,  and  took  from 
thence  a  golden  ball, 
which  she  threw  into 
the  pail,  repeating 
these  words — 

"Golden  ball     I     humbly 

pray, 

Send    me    help     without 
delay  ! " 

No  sooner  said 
than  done.  Several 

gold  pieces  appeared  at  the  bottom  of  the  pail,  tumbling  about  in  a  most  lively 
manner ;  these  were  followed  by  others,  the  pail  getting  fuller  and  fuller  every 
minute,  and  the  gold  pieces  jumping  like  fish  caught  in  a  net.  The  old  woman 
had  fallen  on  her  kness,  and  was  looking  on  open-mouthed.  When  the  pail  was 
quite  full,  she  got  up,  passed  her  arm  through  the  handle,  courtesied  to  Finette, 
and  said — 

"  Madam,  everything  is  yours,  the  house,  the  cow,  and  all  I  possess.  What  a 
lucky  day  for  me  !  I  shall  live  in  the  town  like  a  lady,  and  never  do  any  thing. 
Oh,  deary  me !  if  I  were  only  sixty  years  old  again  ! ' 

And  then,  without  looking  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  she  set  off  run- 


142 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


ning  as  fast  as  she  could,  crutch  and  all,  in  the  direction  of  the  Castle  of  Clairvaux. 

Finette  went  into  the  cottage,  and  found  it  a  miserable  place,  dark,  damp,  and 
stuffy,  with  low  ceilings,  and  full  of  dust  and  spiders' 
webs.  What  a  contrast  it  must  have  presented  to 
the  giant's  splendid  mansion  ! 

Finette  walked  to  the  hearth,  where  a  few  damp 
furze-branches  were  smoldering,  and  taking  another 
golden  ball  out  of  her  bag,  she  threw  it  on  the  fire 
and  pronounced  the  magic  sentence — 

"  Golden  ball,  I  humbly  pray, 
Send  me  help  without  delay  J " 

In  a  twinkling  the  gold  had  melted  down,  and 
began  to  pour  through  the  cottage  in  a  liquid  stream, 
changing  every  thing  into  gold — the  walls,  roof,  the 
wooden  chair,  the  stool,  the  bed,  the  horns  of  the 
cow,  every  thing,  even  to  the  spiders  and  spiders' 
webs,  turned  into  gold,  till  the  cottage  shone  in  the 

moonlight  like  a  brilliant  star. 

After  Finette  had  milked  the  cow,  and  had  drunk  a  little  milk,  she  lay  down 

on  the  bed,  dressed  as  she  was,  thoroughly  tired  out  with  the  fatigues  of  the  day, 

and  cried  herself  to  sleep. 

Old  women  are  terrible  gossips,  at  least  they  are  in  Brittany.     No  sooner  had 

the  late  owner  of  the  cottage  arrived  at 

the  hamlet  in  which  the    castle  stood, 

than  she  went  straight  to  the  steward. 

He  was  a  very  important  person  indeed, 

and  had  often  made  her  quake  in  her 

shoes  when,  by  mistake,  she  had  driven 

her  cow  into  a   neighbor's  field.     The 

steward  listened  to  her  story,  shrugged 

his  shoulders  more  than  once  during  its 

recital,   and   hinted  that   it   savored   of 

witchcraft.     Assuming  a  profound  air  of 

mystery,  he  fetched  a  pair  of  scales,  in 

which  he  carefully  weighed  the  gold  pieces.     He  proved  them  all  to  be  standard 

coin,  helped  himself  to  as  many  as  he  could,  and  advised  his  visitor  to  say  noth- 
ing about  the  affair  to  any  one. 


Yvon  and  Finette*  143 

"  If  the  magistrate  or  the  seneschal  were  to  interfere  in  the  business,  my  good 
woman,"  he  said,  "ten  to  one  you  would  never  see  one  of  your  'yellow  boys' 
again.  Justice  is  strictly  impartial,  and  is  not  to  be  turned  by  favor  or  otherwise 
from  her  course,  but  simply  takes  every  thing." 

The  old  woman  thanked  him  for  his  advice,  which  she  promised  to  follow. 
That  evening  she  told  the  story  to  two  of  her  most  intimate  cronies,  but  then 
they  swore  by  their  grandchildren  that  they  would  not  betray  the  secret,  an  oath 
so  solemn  and  binding, 
and  withal  so  sacredly 
kept,  that  by  noon  the 
following     day    there 
was  not  an  urchin  in 
the  street  who  did  not 
point     at     the     old 
woman  ;  and  the  very 
dogs  seemed,  as  they 
barked,   to  repeat  the 
words  which  the  boys 
called  after  her — 

"  Witch,  witch,    so  wrinkled 

and  old, 

Won't  you  give  us  some  of 
your  gold  ?  " 

The  steward,  as  he 
was  going  to  bed  that 
night,  thought  a  good 
deal  about  what  he 
had  heard.  "A  wife 

who  can  fill  milk-pails  with  gold  whenever  she  likes,  is  not  to  be  picked 
every  day,"   said  he  to  himself.     "  What    did  it  matter  if  she  did  dabb 
witchcraft  ?     She  would  be  a  treasure  to  any  man." 

The  result  of  his  meditations  was  that  he  got  up  the  next  morning  before  day- 
break,  resolved  on  paying  his  court  to  the  stranger.  As  the  earliest  streaks  of 
dawn  appeared,  he  noticed  a  spot  of  brilliant  light  in  the  wood,  and  what  was  his 
astonishment  to  see,  on  a  nearer  inspection,  that  the  wretched  hovel  was  trans 
formed  into  a  golden  house.  But  what  surprised  and  delighted  him  even  more 


144 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


was  the  discovery  that  a  lovely  maiden,  with  dark  locks  and  with  the  air  of  an 
empress,  was  seated  in  the  window  at  her  distaff.  With  the  self-complacence 
which  distinguishes  mankind  in  general,  the  steward  did  not  believe  there  was  a 
woman  in  the  world  who  would  not  be  overjoyed  to  accept  his  hand  in  marriage. 
Therefore,  without  any  beating  about  the  bush,  he  then  and  there  made  his  offer 
to  Finette.  /  She  received  it  with  peals  of  laughter,  which  enraged  the  steward. 
"  Beware  how  you  cross  me,"  said  the  steward,  in  threatening  tones.  "  I  am 
master  here.  No  one  knows  you,  nor  where  you  come  from.  The  gold  which 

you  gave  to  the  old  woman  has  already 
brought  suspicion  upon  you.  There  is 
magic  at  work  in  this  house,  and  if  you 
don't  promise  to  marry  me,  I  will  have 
you  taken  up,  and  you  will  be  burned  as 
a  witch  before  the  sun  goes  down,  in  front 
of  the  Castle  of  Clairvaux." 

"You  are  really  too  kind,"  replied  Fi- 
nette,  making  a  low  courtesy;  "  and  I  must 
allow  that  there  is  a  peculiar  charm  in  the 
way  you  pay  your  addresses  to  ladies ; 
even  when  they  have  made  up  their  minds, 
you  can  overrule  their  scruples  by  the 
most  persuasive  arguments." 

"  We  Bretons  are  frank  and  blunt,"  re- 
turned her  visitor.  "Take  your  choice, 
shall  it  be  marriage  or  imprisonment  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  must  consider,"  said  Finette, 
as  she  laid  aside  her  distaff.  "  But  look 
first  at  the  fire ;  a  cinder  has  fallen  on  the 
floor?" 

"  Pray  do  not  move,"  said  the  steward  ; 
"I  will  pick  it  up." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Finette  ;  "  and  will  you  be  good  enough  to  make  up  the 
fire,  and  put  the  ashes  at  the  back?     Have  you  got  the  tongs  ?" 
"  Yes,"  answered  the  steward,  as  he  began  picking  up  the  cinders. 
"  Abracadabra  !  "  cried  Finette,  jumping  up.     "  May  the  tongs  stick  to  your 
fingers,  and  your  fingers  to  the  tongs,  until  sunset !  " 

The  charm  worked  instantaneously.     The  miserable  wretch  had  to  stand  there 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


'45 


all  day,  picking  up  hot  cinders,  the  sparks  of  which  flew  in  his  face,  and  into  his 

eyes.     It  was  no  good  his  crying,  entreating,  or  swearing,  all  of  which  he  tried 

in  turn,  for  there  was  no  one  to  hear  him.     Finette 

would  no  doubt  have  taken  pity  on  him  had  she 

remained  in  the  cottage,  but  after  working  her  spells 

upon  him,  she  had  run  down  to  the  beach,  and  there, 

forgetting  every  thing  else,  waited   for  Yvon,  who 

never  came. 

As  the  sun  went  down,  the  tongs  fell  from  the 

steward's  hands.    The  instant  he  was  free  he  took  to 

his  heels,  and  ran  home  as  if  a  mad  bull  were  after 

him.  He  looked  such  a  piteous  object,  all  burned  and 

blackened,  and  uttered  such  dismal  moans,  that  every 

one  avoided  him  as  if  he  were  out  of  his  mind. 
One    or  two,   more  bold  than  the  rest,  accosted 

him;  but  he  gave  them  no  answer 
and  rushed  past  them,  looking 
thoroughly  ashamed  of  himself,  and 
never  stopping  till  he  was  safe  in  his 
own  house. 

That  same  evening,  when  Finette 
returned  home  sad  and  disconsolate, 
the  steward  was  no  longer  there,  but 
she  found  an  equally  obnoxious 
person  awaiting  her. 

The  magistrate  had  heard  the  story 
of  the  gold  pieces,  and  he  also  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  marry  the 
strange  lady.  He  was  a  very  differ- 
ent man  from  the  steward,  being  fat 
and  jolly;  and  he  could  not  speak 
without  shaking  his  fat  sides  with 
laughing,  and  when  he  laughed  he 
showed  a  great  row  of  yellow  teeth, 
'  and  snorted  like  a  grampus ;  but  he 

was  quite  as  determined  and  just  as  troublesome   as   the   steward   had  been. 
Finette  implored  him  to  go  away  and  leave  her  in  peace,  but  he  only  laughed  the 


146 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


Jouder,  as  he  gave  her  to  understand  that  by  his  office  he  had  power  to  imprison 
and   even  to  hang  whom  he  would,  without  the  formality  of  a  trial,  if  he  so 

pleased. 

Finette  clasped  her  hands  together  and 
wept,  but  the  magistrate  paid  no  heed  to 
her  prayers  and  entreaties.  He  drew  a 

t  ^fE^^x^D  ^^^K^^B^r^^^F      parchment    roll     from    his  pocket   upon 

which  he  had  drawn  out  a  contract  of  mar- 
riage, and  declared  that  he  would  not  leave 
the  house  till  she  had  signed  it,  if  he  had 
to  remain  there  all  night. 

"  But,"  added  he,  "  if  you  have  any  ob- 
jection to  me  personally,  I  will  not  insist. 
I  have  another  document  here  on  which 
I  can  write  something  very  different.  Is  it  my  face  you  object  to  ?  because,  if  it 
is,  you  can  shut  your  eyes."  Saying  this,  he  held  his  throat  with  one  hand,  and 
thrust  out  his  tongue — a  graceful  action,  and  one  calculated  to  cheer  Finette 
considerably. 

"  Alas ! "  said  she,  "  I  might  consent  to  your  proposal  if  I  could  be  sure  you 

would  make  a  good  husband,  but  I  am  afraid ' 

"What  are  you  afraid  of,  my  dear  child?"  said   the   magistrate  smiling  from 
ear  to  ear,  and  looking  as  sweet  as  sugar. 

"Do  you  think,"  replied  she,  "that  a  good  husband  would  leave  the  door  open 
like  that,  and  not  see  that  the  cold  air  was  freezing 
his  wife  ?  " 

"  You  are  quite  right,  my  love,"   said  the  magis- 
trate ;  "  I  am  so  stupid ;  but  I  will  shut  it  directly." 
"  Have  you  got  hold  of  the  latch  ?  "  said  Finette. 
"  Yes,  my  dear,"  returned  the  magistrate,  cheer- 
fully.    "  I  am  going  to  pull  it  to." 

"  Abracadabra !"  cried  Finette;  "may  you  hold 
the  door,  and  may  the  door  hold  you  fast,  until  to- 
morrow morning ! " 

What  a  sight !     There  was  the  door  flying  open 
one  minute,  and  banging  to  the  next,  and  it  con- 
tinued to  do  so  all  through  the  night,  keeping  the  miserable  man  flying  back- 
ward    and  forward  without  any  rest.      He  had  never  been  led  such  a  dance 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


147 


before,  and  I  should  not  think  he  wished  to  lead  such  another  as  long  as  he 
lived.     He  cried,  he  screamed,  he  swore,  he  prayed  for  mercy.     It  was  all  waste 
of  breath.     The   door  could    not    hear    him,    and 
Finette  had  fallen  asleep  ! 

As  the  day  dawned,  his  stiffened  fingers  relaxed 
their  hold,  and  he  fell  on  the  ground  head  foremost. 
He  set  off  running  the  instant  he  had  picked  him- 
self up,  never  once  looking  round  for  fear  the  door 
should  be  coming  after  him.  Luckily  for  him  there 
was  no  one  astir  yet  in  the  village  of  Clairvaux,  and 
he  got  home  and  to  bed  before  any  one  had  seen 
him  in  his  ridiculous  plight ;  for  he  was  covered  with 
dust  from  head  to  foot,  and  so  haggard  and  white, 
he  looked  like  a  miller  just  escaped  from  the  lower 
regions. 

When  Finette  opened  her  eyes  she  saw  a  tall  man 
standing  before  her,  dressed  in  black,  with  a  black 
velvet  cap,  and  a  sword  at  his  side.  He  was  the 
seneschal  of  the  court  and  barony  of  Clairvaux.  His 
arms  were  folded,  and  he  was  looking  at  the  young 
girl  with  an  expression  in  his  eyes  that  froze  her  to  the  marrow. 

"  What  is  thy  name  ?  "  demanded  he  in  a  voice 
of  thunder. 

"  My  name  is  Finette,"  replied  she  in  a  trem- 
bling voice. 

"  This  house  and  all  the  golden  furniture,  do 
they  belong  to  thee?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  they  are  at  your  service." 
"  So  I  intend  them  to  be,"  answered  the  frown- 
ing seneschal.     "  Rise,  girl,  I  am  going  to  do  thee 
the  honor  of  making  thee  my  wife,  and  taking  thy 
property  and  thyself  under  my  protection." 

"  Sir,"  replied  Finette,  it  is  too  great  an  honor 
for  a  poor  girl  like  me.    I  am  a  friendless  stranger, 


without  a  relation  in  the  world." 

"  Silence,  vassal,"  said  the  seneschal ; 
must  obey  me.     Sign  this  paper." 


I  am  thy  lord  and  master,  and  thou 


148 


Laboiilayes  Fairy   Tales* 


I  do  not  know  how  to  write,  sir,"  said  Finette. 

And  dost  thou  think  that  I  know  how  to  write  more  than  thou  ?  I  am  no 
clerk.  A  cross  is  the  signature  of  a  true  gen» 
tleman." 

He  made  a  big  cross  at  the  foot  of  the  docu- 
ment as  he  spoke,  and  then  held  out  the  pea 
to  her. 

Finette  made  no  reply;  but  jumping  out  of 
the  window,  ran  and  hid  herself  in  the  cow- 
shed. The  seneschal  followed  her,  but  when 
he  tried  to  enter  he  found  the  doorway  blocked 

UP'     The   cow'   frlghtened   at   the   Precipitate 
entrance  of  the  girl,  had  rushed  to  the  door, 
and  Finette,  holding  the  creature  by  the  horns,, 
made  her  serve  as  a  shield  between  herself  and  her  pursuer. 

"  Witch  !  "  roared  the  seneschal,  "  thou  shalt  not  escape  me  thus,"  and  with 
the  strength  of  a  Hercules  he  took  the  cow  by  the  tail  and  dragged  her  out  of 
the  shed. 

"Abracadabra  !  "  cried  Finette.  "May  the  cow's  tail  hold  you  fast,  and  may 
you  hold  the  cow's  tail  till  you  have  both  been  round  the  world." 

No  sooner  had  the  words  left  her  lips  than  off  started  the  cow  like  a  flash  o£ 
lightning,  dragging  the  unfortunate  seneschal  after  her.  Nothing  stopped  their 
mad  career.  They  flew  over  mountains  and  valleys,  marshes  and  rivers ;  they 
skimmed  the  surface  of  the  sea  without  drowning  ;  they  froze  in  Siberia,  were 
boiled  in  Africa ;  scaled 
the  Himalaya,  slid  down 
Mont  Blanc,  and  finally, 
panting  and  out  of 
breath,  came  to  a  stand- 
still, after  thirty,  six 
hours'  traveling,  in  the 
market-place  of  the  vil- 
lage of  Clairvaux. 

.\  seneschal  hanging  on  to  the  tail  of  a  cow  is  not  to  be  seen  every  day  of 
one's  life,  and  so  a  considerable  crowd  gathered  round  them.  But,  torn  as  his 
clothes  were  by  the  wild  cacti  of  Barbary  and  by  the  forests  of  Tartary,  the 
seneschal  did  not  abate  a  jot  of  his  dignity. 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


149 


He  ordered  off  the  crowd  with  threats  and  menaces,  and  then  sought  his 
house  with  limping  gait,  anxious  to  obtain  the  rest  and  refreshment  of  which  he 
stood      so     much     in 
need. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WHILE  the 
steward,  the 
magistrate,  and  the 
seneschal  were  going 
through  these  exciting 
scenes,  which,  by  the 
way,  they  did  not 
think  worth  relating 
to  their  friends,  prepa- 
rations on  a  grand 
scale  were  being  made 
at  the  castle  of  Clair- 
vaux  for  the  wedding 
of  Yvon  and  the  fair 
inconnne. 

At  last  every  thing 
was  in  readiness.  The 
guests  had  assembled, 
some  of  whom  had 
come  a  distance  of 
twenty  leagues,  and 
Yvon,  and  his  affianced 
bride,  and  the  Baron 
and  Baroness  de  Clair- 
vaux  took  their  places 

in  a  large  chariot  decorated  with  flowers  and  evergreens  and  Jrove  off  to  the 
celebrated  abbey  of  Saint  Maclon.  On  either  side  of  the  carriage  a  hundred 
knights  in  armor  rode  on  horseback,  their  visors  up  in  honor  of  the  occasion, 
and  their  lances  at  rest.  Behind  every  knight  rode  his  squire,  each  carrying  the 


f*o  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

seignorial  banner  of  his  master.  At  the  head  of  the  cortege  the  seneschal  was 
to  be  seen  on  his  prancing  steed,  his  golden  staff  of  office  in  his  hand.  Behind 
him  walked  the  magistrate  with  solemn  mien,  followed  by  the  courtiers  and  vas- 
sals  of  the  Baron  ;  and  lastly  the  steward,  who  was  employed  in  keeping  the  crowd 
in  order— an  unruly  mass  of  idle  and  curious  spectators,  who  were  as  free  with 
their  tongues  as  with  their  eyes.  About  a  mile  from  the  castle,  just  as  they 
were  about  to  ford  a  stream  which  crossed  the  road,  one  of  the  wheels  of  the 
Baron's  chariot  came  off,  which  brought  the  procession  to  a  standstill.  The 
damage  repaired,  the  coachman  whipped  up  the  horses ;  but  they  started  forward 

so  violently  that  the  axle  broke  in  three 
places. 

Six  times  did  they  replace  the  un- 
lucky bit  of  wood,  and  six  times  was 
it  broken  ;  and  in  vain  did  they  try  to 
get  the  chariot  out  of  the  hole  in  which 
it  had  stuck.  Every  one  had  some- 
thing to  suggest ;  those  who  were 
coach-builders  by  trade  paraded  their 
knowledge,  and  even  the  steward,  who 
would  not  be  behind-hand,  stepped 
forward  and  addressed  the  Baron  as 
follows,  hat  in  hand,  and  scratching  his 
head: 

"  My  noble  lord,  in  that  house  yonder, 
embowered  in  trees,  lives  a  very  re- 
markable person.  If  your  Excellency 

were  to  ask  her  to  lend  you  her  pair  of  tongs   to  make  an  axle  of,  I  warrant 
that  it  would  hold  till  to-morrow  morning." 

The  Baron  inclined  his  head,  and  ten  peasants  ran  to  Finette's  dwelling  to 
borrow  her  golden  tongs,  which  she  lent  with  charming  grace.  They  were  made 
to  do  duty  as  an  axle,  and  lo !  the  horses  began  to  draw  the  carriage  as  easily  as  if 
it  had  been  a  feather.  There  was  a  murmur  of  general  satisfaction,  but  this  did 
not  last  long.  About  a  hundred  yards  further  on  the  bottom  of  the  carriage 
gave  way  and  fell  out.  It  was  a  mercy  that  the  illustrious  occupants  were  not 
left  on  the  road.  In  a  moment  the  carpenters  were  at  work,  sawing  planks  and 
knocking  in  nails,  and  in  a  very  short  time  the  accident  was  repaired. 

"  Forward !  noble  family  of  Clairvaux  !  "  but  the  carriage  now  took  it  info  its 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


head  to  come  in  two  ;  half  of  it  remained  behind  with  the  Baroness  and  the 
bride,  while  the  Baron  and  Yvon  were  carried  off  at  full  speed  in  the  other  half. 

Here  was  a  fresh  disaster;  they  were  at  their  wits'  end — what  was  to  be  done? 
The  carriage  had  been  broken  and  been  mended  three  times — was  it  bewitched  ? 
Every  one  had  something  to  suggest ;  even  the  magistrate,  taking  courage, 
addressed  the  Baron  with  a  low  bow,  as  follows : 

"Your  Excellency,  in  that  house  which  you  see  yonder  through  the  trees  lives 
a  wonderful  person.  If  your  lordship  were  to  ask  her  for  the  loan  of  one  of  the 
panels  of  her  door  to  mend  the  floor  of  your  carriage  with,  I  warrant  it  would 
hold  till  to-morrow." 

The  Baron  inclined  his  head,  and  twenty  peasants  ran  to  Finette's  dwelling,  at 
whose     request     she 
graciously  lent  them 
one    of    the     golden 
panels  of  her  door. 

They  placed  it  in 
the  bottom  of  the 
carriage,  and  it  fitted 
in  as  if  it  had  been 
made  on  purpose. 


The  cortege  now 
moved  on  again,  the 
abbey  appeared  in 
sight,  and  the  trou- 
bles of  the  journey 
seemed  at  an  end. 
Not  a  bit  of  it.  The 
horses  came  to  a  full 
stop  and  refused  to 

move.  There  were  four  of  them  to  start  with  ;  they  now  harnessed  two  more 
to  the  carriage  to  no  purpose  ;  then  they  tried  eight,  then  twelve,  and  3t  last 
twenty-four!  It  made  no  difference,  the  chariot  would  not  move.  The  more 
the  coachman  lashed  the  horses  the  deeper  did  the  wheels  sink  into  the  ground  ; 
what  was  to  be  done?  Get  out  and  proceed  on  foot  ?  Impossible  !  it  would 
be  so  humiliating.  No,  that  would  not  be  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  the 
Clairvaux.  They  tried  to  lift  the  carnage,  they  pushed  it  from  behind,  they 
cried,  they  grew  desperate  ;  but  though  they  talked  a  great  deal  they  rr>4de  no 


I52  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

progress.     Daylight  was  fading,  and  the  hour  fixed  for  the  wedding  was  pass. 
Ing  by.     The  case  was  desperate. 

Every  one    had  something  to  suggest.     The  seneschal,  taking  courage,  di» 
mounted  and  approached  the  Baron,  and  taking  off  his  velvet  cap,  spoke  aa 

follows  : — 

«  My  lord,  in  the  house  which  you  see  shining  yonder  through  the  trees  lives  a 

wonderful  person.     If  your  lordship  were  to  take  my  advice  and  borrow  her  cow, 

I  warrant  that  the  animal  would  draw  the  carriage  till  to-morrow  morning  if  you 

so  pleased."  .          f 

The  Baron  inclined  his  head,  and  thirty  peasants  instantly  ran  to  Finette  s 

house,  at  whose  re- 
quest she  very  oblig- 
ingly lent  them  her 
cow  with  the  golden 
horns.  It  was  not 
exactly  the  style  in 
which  the  fair  bride 
had  expected  to  ar- 
rive at  the  abbey — 
in  a  carriage  drawn 
by  a  cow! — but  it 
was  better  than  re- 
maining on  the  road 
and  not  being  mar- 
ried at  all.  So  the 
cow  was  harnessed  in 

front  of  the  four  horses,  and  every  body  watched  anxiously  to  see  what  the 
creature  would  do. 

Before  the  coachman  had  even  cracked  his  whip  she  started  off  as  if  she  were 
going  to  make  the  tour  of  the  world  a  second  time. 

Horses,  chariot,  Baron,  Baroness,  bride,  bridegroom,  and  coachman,  were 
whirled  off  by  the  excited  animal.  In  vain  did  the  knights  spur  on  their  horses 
in  pursuit,  in  vain  the  peasants  and  attendants  ran  as  fast  as  their  legs  could 
carry  them,  across  country,  taking  all  the  short  cuts ;  the  carriage  went  like  the 
wind.  On  arriving  at  the  abbey,  the  occupants  would  fain  have  alighted.  All 
the  preparations  had  been  made,  and  the  wedding  party  had  been  expected  for 
some  time ;  but  the  cow,  instead  of  stopping  at  the  door,  redoubled  her  speed 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


'53 


Thirteen  times  did  she  gallop  round  the  abbey  at  a  fearful  pace.     Then  all  at 
once,  retracing  her  steps,  made  for  the  castle  in  a  straight  line  across  the  fields, 
and  at  such  a  rate  that  it  was  a  miracle 
that  the  party  was  alive  when  at  last  it 
stopped  at  the  door  of  the  old  castle. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OF  course  the  wedding  could  not  take 
place  that  day,  but  the  tables  were 

already  spread  with  the   wedding    feast, 

and  the  Baron  de  Clairvaux  understood  the 

laws  of  hospitality  too  well  to  allow  his 

friends  to  disperse  without  inviting  them 

to  sup  in  true  Breton  fashion — that  is  to 

say,  from  sunset  till  sunrise,  or  maybe  later. 

The  order  was  given  for  the  company  to  be  seated.  There  were  eight  rows  of 
tables  arranged  in  the  form  of  horseshoes,  each 
horseshoe  being  composed  of  ninety-six  tables. 
At  the  end  of  the  room  was  a  platform,  carpeted 
with  velvet  pile,  in  the  middle  of  which  stood  a 
table  larger  than  any  of  the  others,  piled  with 
fruit  and  flowers,  and  good  things,  among  which 
were  conspicuous  great  haunches  of  venison  and 
roast  peacocks  adorned  with  their  natural  plumage. 
This  table  was  set  apart  for  the  wedding  party,  so 
that  they  might  be  seen  of  the  whole  company, 
that  nothing  should  be  wanting  to  the  general 
enjoyment.  The  humblest  person  present  might 
pledge  the  young  couple  in  a  bumper  of  mead, 
and  drink  to  the  ancient  and  noble  House  of 
Clairvaux. 

The  Baron  invited  his  one  hundred  knights  to 
sit  at  his  table,  their  squires  standing  behind  their 

chairs  to  serve  them.     On  the  Baron's  right  sat  Yvon  and  his  affianced  bride,  but 

the  chair  on  his  left  was  unoccupied.     Calling  one  of  his  pages  to  him  he  said — • 


'54 


Laboidayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Hie  thee  to  the  stranger  who  gave  her  assistance  so  promptly  to-day.     It 

Was  not  her  fault  that  the  result  surpassed  her  expectations.  Tell  her  that  the  Baron 

de  Clairvaux  tenders  her  his  thanks   for  her  kind- 

,„>•        .   f*];J .-.  ness,  and  invites  her  to  the  marriage  banquet  of  his 

son  the  Chevalier  Yvon." 

The  page  found  Finette  weeping  when  he  arrived 
at  the  golden  house. 

Kneeling  on  one  knee,  he  invited  her  in  the  name 
of  the  Baron,  to  accompany  him  back  to  the  castle, 
that  she  might  grace  the  feast  with  her  presence. 

"  Convey  my  thanks  to  thy  master,"  haughtily  re- 
plied  Finette,  "and  tell  him  if  he  is  too  proud  to- 
come  to  me,  that  I  am  too  proud  to  go  to  him." 

When  the  page  delivered  this  message  to  the 
Baron,  the  latter  struck  the  table  such  a  blow  with 
his  fist  that  the  glasses  jumped  in  the  air. 

"  By  the  House  of  Clairvaux,"  he  cried,  "  that  is 
an  answer  full  of  dig- 
nity. I  feel  myself 
rebuked.  Saddle  my 
bay  mare  instantly, 
and  tell  my  squires 
and  pages  to  be  in 
readiness  to  accom- 
pany me." 

It  was  thus  brilli- 
antly attended  that 
the  Baron  arrived  at 
the  golden  house. 
He  made  ample  apol- 
ogies to  Finette, 
offered  her  his  hand, 
and  holding  the  stir- 
rup for  her  helped 
her  to  mount  beside 

him.     She  might  have  been  the  Duchess  of  Brittany  herself!     He  did  not  ad 
dress  one  word  to  her  all  the  way— this  was  etiquette— and  on  their   arrival  at 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


'55 


the  castle  he  lifted  his  plumed  hat,  and  thus  uncovered,  conducted  her  to  the 
seat  of  honor  prepared  for  her. 

The  Baron's  departure  had  caused  a  general  stir,  and  his  return  created  equal 
excitement.  Every  one  was  asking  the  name  of  the  lady  who  was  thus  honored 
by  the  proud  Baron.  She  appeared  to  be  a  foreigner  by  her  dress.  Was  she  the 
Duchess  of  Normandy  ?  or  perhaps  she  was  the  Queen  of  France  herself  ? 

The  steward,  the  magistrate,  and 
the  seneschal  were  closely  inter- 
rogated. The  steward  trembled,  the 
magistrate  turned  pale,  and  the  senes- 
chal became  crimson.  Each  and  all 
kept  silence,  which  only  served  to 
increase  the  general  curiosity. 

Finette  was  the  cynosure  of  all 
eyes,  and  yet  she  was  miserable. 
Yvon  had  seen  her  enter,  but  he  had 
not  recognized  her ;  he  had  given  her 
but  a  passing  glance,  and  had  then 
devoted  himself  to  the  fair  lady  be- 
side him,  who  listened  to  his  tender 
speeches  with  a  scornful  curl  on  her 
lip. 

In  despair  poor  Finette  drew  the 
last  remaining  golden  ball  from  the 
bag  at  her  side.  While  she  was  con- 
versing with  the  Baron,  who  was 
charmed  by  her  sparkling  wit,  she 
turned  the  little  ball  over  in  her  hand, 
and  whispered  quite  low — 

"  Golden  ball,  I  humbly  pray, 
Send  me  help  without  delay." 

No  sooner  had  she  pronounced  the  words  than  the  ball  grew  suddenly  quite 
large,  and  turned  into  a  goblet  of  chased  gold— a  more  splendid  drinking  cup  had 
never  graced  the  table  of  the  king  himself ! 

Finette  filled  the  goblet  herself  with  spiced  mead,  and  calling  the  seneschal, 
who  was  hiding  himself  behind  her  chair  all  of  a  tremor,  said  in  a  sweet  voice— 


156  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

"  Good  seneschal,  I  pray  thee  take  this  goblet  to  the  Chevalier  Yvon,  and  tell 
him  I  would  drink  his  health ;  he  will  not  refuse  to  drink  mine,  I  know." 

Yvon  took  the  goblet  carelessly  off  the  salver  of  enamel  and  gold  which  the 
seneschal  handed  him,  and  drank  some  of  its  contents  as  he  bowed  to  the 
stranger. 

Setting  the  cup  down  on  the  table  beside  him,  he  resumed  his  conversation 
with  his  fair  companion,  who  engrossed  his  attention  completely.     She  appeared 
to  be  ill  at  ease  and  annoyed ;  Yvon  whispered  a  few  words  in  her  ear,  which 
seemed  to  charm  her,  for  her  eyes  sparkled,  and  she  laid  her  hand  on  her  com- 
panion's arm. 

Finette  hung  her  head,  and  wept  silently.  All 
hope  was  over. 

"  My  children,"  cried  the  Baron,  in  hearty  tones, 
"  fill  your  glasses,  and  drink  to  the  beauty  and  good- 
ness of  the  noble  stranger  who  has  honored  us 
to-day  with  her  presence.  To  the  lady  of  the  golden 
mansion !" 

A  hubbub  of  voices  immediately  arose,  and  every 
one  drank  to  the  stranger  guest. 

Yvon  lifted  his  goblet  to  a  level  with  his  eyes, 
when  all  at  once,  he  began  to  tremble  violently,  and 
could  not  speak;  his  mouth  remained  open,  and  his 
eyes  fixed  ;  he  was  like  a  man  who  sees  a  vision.  He 
did  see  a  vision.  In  the  gold  of  the  goblet  he  be- 
held as  in  a  mirror,  a  series  of  scenes  out  of  his  past  life.  There  was  the 
giant  pursuing  him,  and  Finette  urging  him  to  fly ;  as  this  disappeared,  he 
saw  himself  and  Finette  embarking  on  board  the  ship  which  conveyed  them 
to  Brittany ;  then  they  were  landed,  he  was  leaving  her  and  she  was  weeping. 
As  he  looked,  he  remembered  Finette.  What  had  become  of  her  ?  She  must 
be  beside  him.  Was  not  her  proper  place  at  his  side  ?  He  turned  to  his  com- 
panion, and  then  uttered  a  cry  as  if  he  had  trodden  upon  a  reptile.  Swaying 
from  side  to  side,  like  a  drunken  man,  he  started  up  and  looked  round  the  table 
with  haggard  eyes. 

When  he  discovered  Finette,  he  held  out  both  hands,  and,  in  a  voice  broken 
with  sobs,  cried— 

"  Finette,  wilt  thou  forgive  me  ?  "     And  he  fell  on  his  knees  before  her. 

"  To  err  is  human— to  forgive  divine." 


Yvon  and  Finette. 


157 


So  thought  Finette.  Before  long  she  was  seated  beside  Yvon,  conversing  in 
low  tones.  No  one  heard  what  they  said  to  each  other,  but  they  cried  and 
laughed  by  turns. 

And  the  fair  lady! — what  had  become  of  her?  I  cannot  tell  you.  Just  as 
Yvon  uttered  that  cry,  she  vanished.  Chroniclers  relate  that  a  hideous  old  hag 
was  seen  flying  away  from  the  castle  on  a  broomstick,  and  that  the  dogs  all 
turned  out  and  barked  at  her.  It  is  a  popular  belief  in  the  Clairvaux  family  that 
the  fair  lady  was  one  and  the  same  person  as  the  giant's  godmother,  the  witch. 
However,  this  has  not  been  verified,  so  I  cannot  testify  to  its  having  any  founda- 
tion in  truth.  What  I  can  state  positively  without  exceeding  the  limits  of  the 
historian  is,  that  the  wedding  festivities,  although  interrupted  for  a  few  moments, 
were  resumed  with  fresh  spirit,  and  were  continued  up  to  a  very  late  hour. 

On  the  morrow,  at  an  early  hour,  the  party  adjourned  to  the  chapel,  where,  to 
his  unbounded  joy,  Yvon  was  married  to  Finette,  who  felt  that  now  no  spell 
could  harm  her  in  the  future. 

After  the  ceremony,  they  feasted  right  royally,  and  danced  for  thirty-six  hours, 
without  any  one  thinking  of  breaking  up  the  party. 

The  steward's  arms  ached,  the  magistrate  rubbed  his  back  at  intervals,  and  the 
seneschal's  legs  were  stiff ;  but  all  three  had  a  weight  on  their  consciences,  which 
they  thus  hoped  to  get  rid  of.  So  they  frisked  about  like  young  things,  until 
they  fairly  dropped  on  the  floor,  and  had  to  be  carried  off  to  bed. 

Finette  did  not  seek  to  revenge  herself  on  them.  She  only  cared  to  make 
every  body  happy  around  her,  especially  those  who  belonged  in  ever  so  remote  a 
degree  to  the  noble  house  of  Clairvaux.  Her  memory  is  still  fresh  in  Brittany, 
and,  among  the  ruins  of  the  old  castle,  the  statue  of  the  good  lady  is  still  pointed 
out,  holding  five  little  balls  in  her  hand. 


PIFF-PAFF;  OR,  THE  ART  OF  GOVERNMENT. 

A  TALE  OF  ALL  LANDS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IN  the  kingdom  of  Thistledown — a  happy  country  blessed  by  heaven,  where 
men  were  always  in  the  right  and  women  never  in  the  wrong,  dwelt,  a  long 
time  ago,  a  king,  whose  only  thought  was  for  the  happiness  of  his  people,  and 
who,  it  was  said,  never  felt  bored  or  dull.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  he  was 
beloved  by  his  subjects,  but  that  his  courtiers  had  little  respect  for  him  and  still 
less  affection  is  very  certain.  They  nicknamed  him,  Oddo,  and  by  this  name 
alone  he  is  known  in  The  Great  Chronicles  of  the  Kingdoms  and  Principalities  of 
the  World  of  Nowhere,  a  very  learned  work,  which  the  criticisms  and  erudition  of 
the  famous  Jesuit  father,  Don  Melchisedec  de  Mentiras,  y  Necedad,  have  im- 
mortalized. 

King  Oddo  became  a  widower  after  a  single  year  of  wedded  life,  and  thence- 
forth lavished  all  his  affection  upon  his  son  and  heir,  who  was  the  prettiest  child 
ever  seen.  His  complexion  was  like  a  rose,  his  beautiful  fair  hair  fell  in  golden 
curls  over  his  neck  and  shoulders,  and  what  with  his  blue  limpid  eyes,  straight 
nose,  small  mouth,  and  dimpled  chin,  he  was  a  perfect  model  of  childish  beauty. 
At  eight  years  old  this  infant  phenomenon  danced  exquisitely,  rode  to  perfec- 
tion, and  acquitted  himself  honorably  in  all  military  exercises.  He  won  all  hearts 
by  his  sunny  smiles,  and  by  the  princely  courtesy  with  which,  when  he  was  in  an 
amiable  mood,  he  bowed  to  the  admiring  crowds  as  he  passed  by.  By  the  voice 
of  the  people  (that  voice  which  is  never  at  fault),  he  was  named  Prince  Charming, 
and  the  name  stuck  to  him  always 


Piff-Paff.  159 

Charming  was  as  beautiful  as  the  day ;  but  the  sun  has  spots,  and  so  have  princes. 
The  child  dazzled  the  court  by  his  beauty,  but  there  was  a  shady  side  to  his 
character  that  did  not  escape  the  observant  eyes  of  those  who  loved  or  envied 
him.  Supple,  agile,  and  quick  at  all  bodily  exercises,  Charming  was  idle  and  indif- 
ferent about  all  intellectual  pursuits.  He  had  taken  it  into  his  head  that  he 
would  know  every  thing  without  the  trouble  of  studying.  It  is  true  that  all  his 
governesses,  courtiers,  and  servants,  were  in  the  habit  of  saying  to  him,  that 
work  was  never  meant  for  kings,  and  that  all  that  was  required  of  a  prince  was  to 
fling  with  a  free  hand,  to  the  poets,  and  authors,  and  artists  of  his  dominions,  a 
little  of  the  money  that  his  people  were  only  too  happy  to  give  him.  These 
sayings  tickled  the  vanity  of  Prince  Charming,  and  at  twelve  years  of  age  this 
amiable  child  still  refused  to  look  at  an  alphabet  with 
a  firmness  quite  precocious.  Three  tutors  in  turn,  chosen 
from  among  the  most  patient  and  clever  men  of  the  realm 
— an  ecclesiastic,  a  philosopher,  and  a  colonel — had  tried 
in  vain  to  manage  the  youthful  prince.  The  ecclesiastic 
forgot  his  tact,  the  philosopher  lost  his  patience,  and  the  -:^3MflBr-:fllBRt 
colonel  was  at  his  wit's  end,  while  Charming  remained 
master  of  the  field,  and  only  followed  his  own  caprices. 
He  lived  without  restraint  or  discipline  of  any  kind — 
obstinate  as  a  mule,  passionate  as  a  turkey-cock,  dainty 
as  a  cat,  and  lazy  as  a  negro — he  was,  as  far  as  other  things 
went,  an  accomplished  prince,  the  hope  and  idol  of  a  peo- 
ple who  only  cared  for  grace  and  beauty  in  their  kings. 


CHAPTER  II. 

PAZZA. 

A  LTHOUGH  King  Oddo  had  been  brought  up  at  court,  he  was  a  most 
t\  sensible  man ;  the  ignorance  of  Prince  Charming  grieved  him,  and  he  often 
wondered  what  would  become  of  his  kingdom  in  the  hands  of  a  prince  whom 
the  basest  flatterer  could  rule  with  the  greatest  ease.  What  was  to  be  done? 
What  method  was  he  to  use  with  regard  to  a  child  whom  an  adored  wife  had  left 
him  as  a  dying  legacy?  Sooner  than  see  his  son  cry,  King  Oddo  would  have 


i6o 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


given  up  his  crown  to  him  ;  his  tender  heart  unmanned  him.  Love  is  not  blind 
whatever  poets  say.  Alas  !  how  happy  should  we  be  if  it  were  so. 

Every  evening  after  the  state  council  was  over,  King  Oddo  was  wont  to  repair 
to  his  friend  the  Marchioness  of  Costoro.  She  was  an 
ancient  dame,  who  had  dandled  the  king  upon  her 
knees  in  days  gone  by,  and  who  alone  was  able  to  re- 
call to  him  the  sweet  memories  of  his  childhood  and 
youth.  Report  said  she  was  ugly  and  dabbled  in 
magic ;  but  the  world  is  very  uncharitable,  and  it  is 
well  not  to  believe  half  of  what  it  says.  The  mar- 
chioness, who  had  handsome  features  and  venerable 
white  hair,  still  bore  traces  of  having  been  beautiful  in 
her  youth. 

One  day,  after  Charming  had  been  more  unmanage- 
able than  usual,  the  king  appeared  before  the  mar- 
chioness with  a  careworn  face.  According  to  his  wont, 

he  seated  himself  at  a  card-table,  and  taking  up  a  pack  of  cards,  commenced  a 
Game  of  Patience  ;  in  this  way  he  used  to  drown  thought,  and  to  forget  for  some 
hours  the  anxieties  of  business  and  the  worries  incidental  to  royalty.  After 
placing  sixteen  cards  in  a  perfect  square,  he  drew  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Marchioness !  "  cried  he,  "  you  see  before  you  the  most  unhappy  of  fathers, 
and  saddest  of  kings.  Notwithstanding  his  natural  sweet- 
ness of  disposition,  Charming  is  becoming  every  day  more 
naughty  and  willful.  Must  I  leave  behind  me  an  heir  like 
this,  and  confide  the  happiness  of  my  people  to  a  crowned 
fool !  " 

"Such  is  life,"  returned  the  marchioness.  "You  will 
always  find  idleness  and  beauty  are  inseparable ;  while 
wit  and  ugliness  go  hand  in  hand.  I  have  an  example  of 
this  in  my  own  home.  A  few  days  ago  a  great-great- 
niece  was  sent  me,  who  has  no  relation  in  the  world  save 
myself ;  she  is  as  brown  as  a  toad,  as  thin  as  a  spider,  as 
mischievous  as  a  monkey,  and  as  clever  as  a  book,  and  she  is  not  yet  ten  years 
old.  Judge  for  yourself,  sire— here  comes  my  little  fright  to  greet  you." 

Oddo  turned  his  head  and  perceived  a  child,  whose  appearance  answered 
exactly  the  description  given  by  the  marchioness.  A  prominent  forehead,  great 
black  eyes,  frizzy  hair  drawn  off  her-  face  ci  la  Chinoise,  a  sallow  skin,  large  white 


Piff-Paff.  ,6l 

teeth,  and  red  hands  at  the  end  of  a  pair  of  long  arms,  did  not  give  her  a  very 
prepossessing  appearance  ;  but  the  butterfly  emerges  from  a  chrysalis,  and  how 
many  lovely  women  have  been  ugly  little  maidens  of  ten  ?  The  little  curiosity 
approached  the  king  and  dropped  so  grave  a  courtesy,  that  Oddo  could  not 
repress  a  laugh,  though  he  had  felt  but  little  inclined  for  laughter  a  moment 
since. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  he  asked,  as  he  held  the  child  by  the  chin. 

"  Sire,"  she  gravely  rejoined,  "  I  am  Donna  Dolores-Rosario-Coral-Concha- 
Baltazara-Melchiora-Gaspara-and-All  Saints,  daughter  of  the  noble  knight,  Don 
Pascual-Bartolomeo-Francesco  de  Asiz,  and " 

"  That  will  do,"  said  the  king.     "  I  did  not  ask  for  your  whole  family  history. 
We   are    not    here  to  assist  at  your  baptism,  or 
your  marriage.     What  is  the  name  you  are  gen- 
erally known  by  ?  " 

"  Sire,"  answered  the  child,  "  I  am  called 
'Pazza.'"1 

"And  why  are  you  called  'Pazza'?"  inquired 
the  king. 

"  Because  it  is  not  my  name,  sire,"  she  replied. 

"  Come,  that's  strange  !  "  said  the  king. 

"  Nay,  it  is  quite  natural,"  returned  the  child. 
"  My  aunt  says  I  am  too  foolish  for  any  of  the 
saints  to  own  me  for  a  namesake,  and  that  is  why 
she  has  given  me  a  name  that  could  not  possibly 
offend  any  of  them." 

"  Well  said,   my  child,"  returned  King  Oddo. 

"  I  see  you  are  a  very  clever  girl.  It  is  not  every  one  who  knows  how  to  keep 
good  friends  with  the  saints.  Perhaps,  as  you  seem  to  know  a  good  deal,  you 
can  tell  me  what  a  philosopher  is  ?  " 

"  A  philosopher  is  a  man  who  is  thoroughly  conversant  with  every  subject  on 
which  he  speaks,  and  knows  exactly  what  he  is  about  when  he  is  carrying  out 
any  work." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  king,  "  if  philosophers  were  any  thing  like  what  you  imagine 
them  to  be,  I  would  turn  my  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences  into  my  Council  of 

'  "  Pazza  "  is  pronounced  "  patsa,"  and  is  the  Italian  for  "  foolish."  It  seems  that  in  the  kingdom  of 
Thistledown  they  spoke  a  very  mixed  language. 


1 62  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

State,  and  I  would  hand  over  to  it  the  entire  government  of  my  kingdom.  What 
is  an  ignoramus  ?  " 

"  Sire,"  returned  Pazza,  "  there  are  three  different  kinds  of  ignoramuses :  there 
are  those  who  do  not  know  any  thing ;  those  who  speak  of  things  of  which  they 
know  nothing ;  and  those  who  will  not  learn  any  thing.  All  three  are  only  fit 
for  the  stake  or  the  scaffold." 

"  That  is  a  proverb  that  you  have  just  repeated,"  said  the  king.  "  Can  you 
tell  me  what  proverbs  are  called  ?  " 

"Yes,  sire,"  answered  the  child,  "  the  Wisdom  of  Nations." 

"  And  why  are  they  so  called  ?  " 

"Because  they  are  foolish,"  rejoined  Pazza.  "They  contradict  each  other, 
and  are  made  to  suit  all  tastes.  Proverbs  are  like  bells  that  ring  out  assent  or  dis- 
sent according  to  the  humor  of  the  person  who  listens  to  them." 

Thereupon,  Pazza,  jumping  up,  caught  a  fly  that  was  buzzing  near  the  king's 
nose.  She  then  left  the  king,  and  fetching  her  doll,  seated  herself  on  the  floor 
to  play  with  it. 

"  Well,  sire,"  said  the  marchioness,  "  what  do  you  think  of  the  child  ?  " 

"  She  is  too  clever  by  half,"  returned  the  king;  "  she  won't  live." 

"  Ah,  sire,"  cried  Pazza,  "  you  are  not  polite  to  my  aunt,  who  is  no  longer  a 
child ! " 

"Silence,  gipsy!"  said  the  old  lady,  smiling,  "we  must  never  set  our  princes 
right." 

"  Marchioness !  "  exclaimed  the  king,  "  an  idea  has  just  struck  me ;  it  is  so 
strange  a  one  that  I  hardly  dare  confide  it  to  you,  yet  I  have  an  immense  desire 
to  carry  it  into  practice.  I  can  do  nothing  with  my  son.  Reason  has  no  effect 
upon  him  ;  but  perhaps  folly  may  succeed  better.  If  I  were  sure  that  it  would 
be  so,  I  would  make  Pazza  Charming's  teacher ;  though  he  rebels  against  his 
masters  he  might  perhaps  be  led  by  a  child.  The  only  objection  to  this  plan  is, 
that  no  one  will  agree  with  me  as  to  its  advisability.  I  shall  have  all  the  world' 
against  me." 

"Nonsense,"  said  the  marchioness,  "the  world  is  so  stupid,  that  you  only  show 
your  sense  by  disregarding  its  opinions." 


163 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  FIRST  LESSON. 

,  TT  was  thus  that  Pazza  was  intrusted  with  the  tuition  01  the  young  prince. 
J-  There  was  no  official  nomination  to  the  post ;  there  was  no  announcement 
in  the  Gazette  that  the  king,  with  his  usual  wisdom,  had  found  a  wonderful 
genius  to  whom  he  had  confided  the  training  of  his  son  ;  but  the  very  next  day 
Charming  was  sent  to  visit  the  marchioness  and  permitted  to  play  with  Pazza. 
Left  together,  the  two  children  gazed  at 
«ach  other  in  silence.  Pazza,  the  bolder 
of  the  two,  spoke  first. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  said  she  to  her 
new  companion. 

"  People  who  don't  know  me  call  me 
Your  Royal  Highness,"  answered  Charm- 
ing, in  a  tone  of  pique;  "  people  who  do, 
call  me  simply  Sire.  That's  etiquette." 

"What  is  etiquette?"  asked  Pazza. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Charming. 
"When  I  jump,  or  shout,  and  when  I 
want  to  roll  on  the  ground,  they  tell  me 
that  isn't  etiquette  ;  when  I  am  quiet  and 
feel  bored — that  is  etiquette." 

"  As  we  are  here  to  amuse  ourselves," 
rejoined  Pazza,  "  there  is  no  etiquette  at 

all  in  the  case.     Talk  to  me  as  if  I  were  your  sister,  and  I  will  talk  to  you  as  if 
you  were  my  brother.    7  won't  call  you  Sire." 

"  But  you  don't  know  me !  "  said  Charming. 

"  What  does  that  matter  ?  "  answered  Pazza.     "  I  will  love  you— that's  better. 
They  say  you  dance  so  beautifully.     Do  teach  me ! " 

The  ice  was  broken ;  Charming  took  the  little  girl  by  the  waist,  and  ere  half 
an  hour  was  past  he  had  taught  her  the  polka  danced  in  those  days. 

"  How  well  you  dance !  "  said  he  ;  "  you  have  learned  the  step  already." 

"  That  is  because  you  are  so  good  a  master,"  said  she.     "  It  is  my  turn  now  to 
teach  you  something." 


|64>  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

She  then  took  up  a  beautiful  picture-book,  and  showed  him  pictures  of  great 
buildings,  fishes,  statesmen,  parrots,  learned  men,  curious  animals  and  flowers,  all 
of  which  amused  Charming  very  much  indeed. 

"  Look  here,"  said  Pazza,  "  here  is  the  explanation  about  all  these  pictures.     Let 

us  read  it." 

" 1  don't  know  how  to  read,"  rejoined  Charming. 

"Then  I  will  teach  you.     I  will  be  your  little  mistress." 

"  No,"  replied   the  obstinate   prince,  "  I   won't  read.     My  masters  bore  me 

dreadfully." 

"  Very  well ;  but  I  am  not  a  master,"  said  Pazza.     "  See  here  is  an  A — a  beau- 

tiful  A— say  A." 

"No,"  rejoined  Charming,  frowning  as  he  spoke,  "  I  will  never  say  A. 

"  Not  to  please  me  ?  ** 
"No,  never!  We 
have  had  enough  of 
this.  I  don't  like  peo- 
ple who  contradict  me," 
said  the  prince. 

"  A  courteous  man 
never  refuses  a  lady  any 
thing,"  replied  Pazza. 

"  I  should  refuse  the 
devil   himself   in    petti- 
coats," returned  Charming,  choking  with  anger.     "  Let  me  alone — I  don't  like 
you  any  longer ;  and  I  desire  that  for  the  future  you  call  me  Sire ! " 

"  My  charming  Sire,"  replied  Pazza,  red  with  anger,  "  you  shall  read,  or  you 
shall  tell  me  why  !  " 
"  I  will  not  read !  " 

"You  will  not  ? — once — twice — thrice !  " 
"  No — no — no  !  "  screamed  the  prince. 

Pazza  raised  her  hand,  and  piff-paff — lo  !  the  king's  son  had  received  a  stinging" 
box  on  the  ears.  Pazza  had  once  been  told  that  she  was  clever  to  the  very  tips 
of  her  fingers.  She  ought  not  to  have  taken  this  speech  literally.  It  certainly 
never  does  to  joke  with  children. 

On  receiving  this  first  lesson  in  reading,  Charming  turned  pale  and  shook  with 
anger,  then  his  face  flushed  scarlet,  and  great  tears  filled  his  eyes ;  he  looked  at 
his  young  mistress  with  an  expression  that  startled  her.  All  at  once,  and  with 


Piff-Paff.  I65 

a  great  effort,  he  recovered  his  self-control,  and  said,  in  a  voice  that  trembled 
slightly : 

"  Pazza,  here  is  the  letter  A." 

The  same  day,  and  during  the  same  lesson,  he  learned  the  whole  twenty-six 
letters  of  the  alphabet.  At  the  end  of  the  week  he  was  able  to  spell  correctly, 
and  before  a  month  elapsed  he  could  read  any  book  that  was  laid  before  him. 

Imagine  the  king's  joy!  He  kissed  Pazza  upon  both  cheeks;  he  wanted  her 
always  to  be  with  his  son  and  with  himself ;  and  he  made  the  child  his  friend  and 
counselor,  to  the  great  disgust  of  all  his  courtiers.  Charming,  always  sullen  and 
silent,  learned  all  that  his  young  mentor  could  teach  him,  and  soon  went  back  to 
his  old  tutors,  whom  he  astonished  by  his  intelligence  and  docility.  He  repeated 
his  grammar  so  well  that  his  master  found  himself  wondering  one  day  whether 
the  definitions  which  he  had  never  understood  had  not  a  meaning  after  all. 
Charming  no  less  surprised  the  philosopher,  who  taught  him  every  evening  the 
reverse  of  what  the  ecclesiastic  had  taught  him  in 
the  morning.  But  of  all  his  masters  the  one  to 
whom  he  listened  with  the  least  repugnance  was 
the  colonel.  It  is  true  that  Bayonet — that  was 
the  name  of  the  colonel — was  a  clever  strategist, 
and  could  say,  like  the  philosopher  of  old  (with  a 
trifling  variation) — "  I  am  a  man,  and  nothing  that 
concerns  the  art  of  despatching  my  fellow  men  is 
strange  to  me  "  (Homo  sum,  et  niJiil  humanum  a 
me  alienum  puto). 

He  it  was  who  initiated  Charming  in  the  mysteries  of  buttons  and  facings  ;  he 
it  was  who  taught  his  pupil  that  the  art  of  war  was  the  noblest  study  fora  prince, 
and  that  the  groundwork  of  statesmanship  was  to  review  troops  with  the  purpose 
of  going  to  war,  and  to  go  to  war  for  the  purpose  of  exercising  the  troops.  Per- 
haps it  was  not  quite  after  this  fashion  that  Oddo  understood  the  art  of  govern- 
ment, but  while  he  kept  his  son's  future  in  his  own  hands  he  was  so  pleased 
with  Charming's  progress  in  the  present,  that  he  would  not  interfere  in  any  way 
with  the  work  of  education  which  had  been  so  long  despaired  of. 

"  My  son,"  he  often  said,  "  do  not  forget  that  you  owe  every  thing  to  Pazza." 

When  the  king  spoke  thus  Pazza  blushed  with  pleasure,  and  used  to  look 
tenderly  at  the  prince,  for,  notwithstanding  all  her  cleverness,  she  was  foolish 
enough  to  love  him. 

Charming  contented  himself  with  coldly   replying   that    gratitude    was   the 


i66 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


virtue  peculiar  to  princes,  and  that  Pazza  would  learn  one  day  that  her  pupil 
forgot  nothing. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   MARRIAGE   OF  PAZZA.. 

WHEN  Prince  Charming  had  attained  his  seventeenth  year  he  went  one 
morning  in  search  of  KingOddo,  whose  health  was  declining,  and  whose 
great  wish  it  was  to  see  his  son  married  before  he  died. 

"My  father,"  said  he,  "I  have  long  pon- 
dered on  your  wise  words.  I  owe  my  exist- 
ence to  you,  but  Pazza  has  done  yet  more 
for  me  in  awakening  my  mind  and  soul.  The 
only  way  I  see  of  paying  the  debt,  is  by 
marrying  her  to  whom  I  owe  all  that  I  am. 
So  I  have  come  to  ask  you  for  the  hand  of 
Pazza." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  replied  Oddo,  "  your 
resolution  does  you  honor.  Pazza  is  not  of 
royal  birth,  and  under  other  circumstances  I 
should  not  have  chosen  her  as  a  wife  for  you  ; 
but  when  I  think  upon  her  virtues,  her 
amiable  qualities,  and  above  all  upon  the 
service  she  has  rendered  us,  I  forget  my  foolish  prejudices.  Pazza  has  the  soul 
of  a  queen,  she  shall  ascend  the  throne  with  you.  In  the  land  of  Thistledown 
people  think  enough  of  intellect  and  goodness  to  pardon  what  fools  would  call 
an  unequal  match,  and  what  I  call  a  most  royal  one.  Happy  is  the  man  who 
makes  choice  of  an  intelligent  woman  for  his  wife,  one  capable  of  understanding 
and  loving  him  !  To-morrow  your  betrothal  shall  be  publicly  announced,  and  in 
two  years'  time  you  shall  be  married. 

The  marriage  took  place  sooner  than  the  king  had  anticipated.  Fifteen 
months  after  he  had  spoken  these  memorable  words,  Oddo  died  of  exhaustion. 
He  had  taken  his  profession  in  serious  earnest,  and  royalty  caused  his  death. 
The  old  marchioness  and  Pazza  mourned  their  friend  and  benefactor,  but  they 
were  alone  in  their  grief.  Without  being  a  bad  son,  Charming  was  distracted 


Piff-Paff. 


167 


from  his  sorrow  by  the  cares  of  state ;  the  court  hoped  every  thing  from  the  new 
king,  and  thought  no  more  of  the  old  one,  whose  generous  hand  was  closed  by 
death. 

After  doing  honor 
to  the  memory  of  his 
father  by  a  magnificent 
funeral,  the  young 
prince  gave  himself  up 
to  love.  His  marriage 
was  celebrated  with  a 
splendor  that  delighted 
the  good  folk  of 
Thistledown.  The 
taxes  were  doubled, 
but  who  could  regret 
money  spent  for  so 
noble  a  purpose  ?  Peo- 
ple came  from  hund- 
reds of  miles  round 
to  see  the  new  king, 
and  greatly  admired 
Pazza,  whose  budding 
beauty  and  kindly  air 
won  all  hearts.  In  due 
course  came  intermin- 
able dinners,  speeches 
longer  than  the  din- 
ners, and  poetical 
addresses  more  weari- 
some even  than  the 
speeches.  In  short,  it 
was  altogether  a  fes- 
tivity unequaled  in 
history,  and  six 
months  after  people  were  still  talking  of  it  rapturously. 

When  night  came  on,  Charming  took  the  hand  of  his  amiable  young  bride, 
and  with  cold  politeness  led  her  through  long  corridors  to  the  tower  of  the 


108  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

castle.     On  entering,  Pazza  was  alarmed  at  finding  herself  in  a  dismal  chambel 
with  grated  windows,  huge  locks,  and  iron  bars. 

"  What  is  this  place  ?  "  said  she ;  "  it  looks  like  a  prison." 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  prince,  as  he  gazed  with  a  terrible  meaning  in  his  eyes  at 
the  little  queen,  "  it  is  the  prison  you  will  never  quit  till  you  leave  it  for  your 
grave ! " 

"  My  darling,  you  frighten  me,"  said  Pazza,  smiling;  "am  I  a  criminal  without 
knowing  it  ?  Have  I  incurred  your  displeasure  that  you  threaten  me  with  this 
dungeon?  " 

"  Your  memory  is  but  short,"  replied  Charming.     "  He  who  inflicts  an  injury 

writes  it  upon  the  sand, 
he  who  receives  one 
inscribes  it  upon  mar- 
ble." 

"  Charming,"  rejoin- 
ed the  poor  child, 
over  whom  terror  was 
now  stealing,  "  you  are 
now  repeating  one  of 
those  sentences  in  the 
speeches  that  have 
bored  me  so.  Have 
you  nothing  better  to 
say  to  me  to-day  ?  " 

"Unhappy  crea- 
ture," cried  the  king, 
"you  have  forgotten 

the  blow  you  once  gave  me,  but  I  have  forgotten  nothing.  I  married  you  that 
I  might  take  your  life,  and  that  you  might  slowly  expiate  your  crime  of  high 
treason ! " 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  young  girl,  with  a  pretty  graceful  petulance,  "  you  look 
just  like  Blue  Beard  ;  but  you  do  not  frighten  me  in  the  least,  I  assure  you.  I 
know  you,  Charming,  and  I  warn  you  that  unless  you  put  an  end  to  this  un- 
pleasant joke  I  shall  not  give  you  one,  but  three  boxes  on  the  ear.  Make  haste 
and  take  me  away,  or  I  vow  I  will  keep  my  word." 

"  Vow  what  you  like,  madam,"  cried  the  king,  furious  at  not  intimidating  his 
victim.  "  I  accept  your  vow,  and  I  vow  on  my  side  that  you  shall  never  enter  the 


169 

nuptial  chamber  unless  I  have  been  fool  enough  to  receive  an  insult  thrice,  which 
can  only  be  washed  out  in  blood.  Let  him  laugh  who  wins.  Here,  Rachim- 
burg!  " 

In  answer  to  this  terrible  name  a  bearded  gaoler  ot  threatening  aspect  entered 
the  chamber.  With  a  rough  push  he  forced  the  queen  down  upon  a  miserable 
pallet  and  shut  to  the  door,  with  a  rattle  of  keys  and  locks  enough  to  frighten 
the  most  innocent  heart. 

If  Pazza  wept  it  was  so  quietly  that  no  one  heard  her.  Tired  of  the  silence, 
Charming  went  away  raging  at  heart,  and  determined  that  by  force  he  would 
break  the  proud  spirit  that  defied  him.  "  Vengeance,"  it  is  said,  "  is  the  pleasure 
of  kings." 

Two  hours  later  the  marchioness  received  by  a  trusty  hand  a  little  note  that  told 
her  of  her  niece's  sad  fate.  How  did  it  reach  her  ?  I  shall  not  betray  the  secret, 
for  if  perchance  a  charitable  gaoler  be  found,  it  is  well  to  make  much  of  him : 
the  race  is  scarce,  and  daily  becoming  scarcer. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  TERRIBLE   EVENT. 

THE  next  day  the  Gazette  announced  that  the  queen  had  been  taken  violently 
ill  with  brain  fever  the  very  night  of  her  marriage,  and  there  was  little 
hope  of  her  life.  There  was  not  a  courtier  that  did  not  instantly  remark  that  he 
had  noticed  how  extremely  agitated  the  princess  had  appeared  the  day  before, 
and  that  no  one  could  be  surprised  at  her  illness.  Every  one  pitied  the  king, 
who  received  with  a  gloomy  awkward  air  the  tokens  of  affection  lavished  upon 
him.  No  doubt  his  sorrow  overwhelmed  him,  but  this  sorrow  seemed  much 
lightened  after  the  visit  of  the  Marchioness  of  Costoro. 

The  good  lady  was  very  sad.  She  much  wished  to  see  her  dear  child  ;  but  she 
was  so  aged,  and  she  felt  so  feeble  and  so  sensitive,  that  she  implored  the  king 
to  spare  her  so  heartrending  a  sight.  She  threw  herself  into  Charming's  arms, 
who  on  his  side  embraced  her  tenderly,  and  she  withdrew  saying  that  she  put  all 
her  hopes  and  all  her  confidence  in  the  love  of  the  king  and  in  the  skill  of  the 
court  physician. 

She  had  but  just  left,  when  the  physician,  bending  down  to  Charming's  ear, 


170  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales, 

whispered  two  words  that  caused  a  smile  to  irradiate  the  king's  countenance; 
which  however  was  quickly  suppressed.  Having  got  rid  of  the  marchioness 
there  was  nothing  now  to  be  feared.  Vengeance  was  assured  to  him.  Baron 
Wieduwillst  was  a  great  physician.  Born  in  the  land  of  Dreams,  he  had  early 
left  his  own  country  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  kingdom  of  Thistledown.  He 
was  too  clever  a  man  not  to  make  his  fortune.  In  the  five  years  that  he  spent 
at  the  celebrated  University  of  Lugenmaulberg,  the  medical  theory  had  changed 
twenty-five  times.  Thanks  to  this  solid  education,  the  baron  had  a  firmness  of 
principle  that  nothing  could  shake.  According  to  his  own  account  he  had  the 
frankness  and  bluntness  of  a  soldier  ;  sometimes  he  even  swore,  especially  before 
ladies.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  receiving  fees  for  having 
no  opinion  of  his  own.  It  was  into  his  incorruptible 
hands  that  the  poor  queen  had  fallen.  She  had  been  in 
confinement  three  days,  and  people  were  already  begin- 
ning to  speak  of  other  matters,  when  Rachimburg,  one 
morning,  all  disheveled,  rushed  into  the  chamber  of  the 
king,  and  threw  himself  trembling  at  his  feet. 

"  Sire,"  said  he,  "  I  bring  you  my  head.  The  queen 
has  disappeared  during  the  night." 

"  What  is  this  you  tell  me  ? "  cried  the  king,  turning 
pale.  "  The  thing  is  an  impossibility.  The  dungeon  is 
grated  on  all  sides." 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  gaoler,  "  it  seems  impossible,  but  it 
is  very  certain.  The  gratings  are  all  there,  and  the  walls 
too,  and  the  locks  and  keys  have  not  been  moved  ;  but 
witches  can  pass  through  walls  without  disturbing  a  single 
stone,  and  who  knows  whether  the  prisoner  was  not 
one?" 

The  king  sent  for  the  baron — he  was  a  strong-minded 
man,  and  did  not  believe  in  witchcraft.  He  tapped  the 
walls,  he  shook  the  gratings,  he  cross-questioned  the 
gaoler,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Trustworthy  people  were  sent  to  every  part 
of  the  town,  the  marchioness  was  watched,  as  the  baron  suspected  her;  but  after 
a  week  the  search  was  abandoned  as  useless.  Rachimburg  lost  his  post  of  gaoler  • 
but  as  he  knew  the  royal  secret,  and  there  was  further  use  for  him  besides  and 
he  was  burning  to  be  avenged,  they  made  him  doorkeeper  of  the  palace.  Furi. 
ous  on  account  of  his  late  mishap,  he  exercised  so  strict  a  supervision,  that  m 


Piff-Paff.  171 

less  than  three  days  he  six  times  arrested  the  great  Wieduwillst  himself,  and  thus 
disarmed  suspicion. 

At  the  end  of  a  week  some  fishermen  brought  to  the  palace  the  gown  and 
mantle  belonging  to  the  queen  ;  the  tide  had  cast  these  sad  relics,  all  soiled  with 
sand  and  spray,  upon  the  shore.  The  poor  mad  creature  had  probably  drowned 
herself,  and  no  one  doubted  this  to  have  been  the  case  when  they  saw  the  sorrow 
of  the  king  and  the  tears  of  the  marchioness.  A  Council  of  State  was  held, 
which  decided  that  the  queen  was  legally  dead ;  and  the  king  being  legally  a 
widower,  his  faithful  counsellors  implored  his  majesty  in  the  interests  of  his 
kingdom  to  shorten  the  painful  term  of  mourning,  and  to  re-marry  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  so  consolidate  the  dynasty.  This  decision  was  carried  to  the  king 
by  Baron  Wieduwillst,  first  physician  to  the  court  and  president  of  the  council. 
He  made  so  touching  a  speech  on  the  occasion  that  the  entire  court  was  reduced 
to  tears,  and  Charming  was  compelled  to  throw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
baron,  apostrophizing  him  the  while  as  his  cruel  friend. 

There  is  no  need  to  dilate  upon  the  funeral  of  a  queen  so  much  regretted — in 
the  kingdom  of  Thistledown  every  thing  is  held  a  pretext  for  a  ceremonial — it 
was  arranged  with  great  pomp  ;  but  the  most  perfect  thing  of  the  whole  was  the 
behavior  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  court.  Each  one  gazed  at  Charming,  whose 
mourning  garments  made  him  look  handsomer  than  ever;  each  one  cried  with 
one  eye  to  do  honor  to  the  queen,  while  they  smiled  with  the  other  to  fascinate 
the  king.  Oh  !  if  only  photography  had  been  invented  then,  what  portraits 
those  ancient  times  might  have  transmitted  to  us !  The  good  folk  then  had 
passions  ;  love,  hatred,  and  anger  animated  their  speaking  countenances.  Civili- 
zation may  be  the  triumph  of  morality,  but  is  certainly  the  destruction  of  art. 

After  the  account  of  the  funeral,  which,  according  to  etiquette,  occupied  six 
columns  of  the  paper,  the  Gazette  announced  what  mourning  was  to  be  worm 
Blue  and  rose  color  were  the  sad  colors  in  the  country  of  Thistledown.  The 
court  was  to  mourn  profoundly  during  three  weeks,  and  to  console  itself  gradu- 
ally in  the  course  of  the  three  following  weeks ;  but  as  the  period  of  slight 
mourning  fell  at  the  time  of  the  carnival,  and  as  trade  was  protected,  it  was 
decided  that  a  masked  ball  should  be  given  at  the  castle.  Immediately  the  mil- 
liners and  tailors  set  to  work ;  great  people  and  small  asked  for  invitations,  and 
began  to  plot  and  intrigue  for  them,  as  though  the  fate  of  the  monarchy  depended 
upon  it. 

It  was  after  this  solemn  fashion  poor  Pazza  was  mourned. 


I>j2  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   MASKED   BALL. 

AT  last  the  great  day  so  impatiently  longed  for  arrived.  For  six  weeks  the 
good  people  of  Thistledown  had  been  in  a  fever  of  excitement.  Ministers, 
senators,  generals,  magistrates,  princesses,  duchesses,  and  citizens'  wives  were  no 
longer  the  topics  of  conversation  ;  for  twenty  leagues  round  nothing  was  talked 
of  but  clowns,  harlequins,  punchinellos,  zingaris,  columbines,  and  follies.  Poli- 
tics were  at  a  standstill,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  the  nation  was  divided  into 
two  great  parties — the  conservatives  who  were  going  to  the  ball,  and  the  opposi- 
tion who  were  not. 

If  one  may  believe  the  official  report,  the  fete  in  its  magnificence  surpassed 
all  fetes  past  and  future.  The  ball  took  place  in  the  pavilion  most  gorgeously 
decorated  and  situated  in  the  midst  of  lovely  gardens.  After  following  a  perfect 
labyrinth  of  avenues,  softly  lighted  by  lamps  of  alabaster,  the  guest  suddenly 
came  upon  the  ball-room  resplendent  with  gold  and  flowers,  verdure,  and  lights. 
The  orchestra,  half  hidden  in  the  foliage,  played  the  most  entrancing  music, 
which  by  turns  was  now  passionate  and  now  gay.  Added  to  this,  the  richness  of 
the  costumes,  the  brilliancy  of  the  diamonds,  and  the  amusement  afforded  by 
the  masks,  made  a  scene  of  enchantment  which  only  the  cold  heart  of  an  old 
stoic  could  possibly  resist. 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  this,  King  Charming  was  bored !  Concealed  under  a 
blue  domino,  and  his  face  completely  masked,  he  had  paid  his  addresses  to  the 
most  elegant  and  the  gayest  among  the  dancers ;  he  had  lavished  on  them  all 
his  wit  and  powers  of  fascination,  and  had  only  met  with  indifference  and  cold- 
ness. His  partners  scarcely  listened  to  him,  they  yawned  in  answering,  and  were 
in  haste  to  leave  him.  Every  glance,  every  encouragement,  was  reserved  for  a 
black  domino  with  knots  of  red  ribbon,  who  walked  nonchalantly  about  the  ball- 
room, and  sultan-like  accepted  all  the  cpmpliments  and  smiles  that  greeted  him. 
This  domino  was  Baron  Wieduwillst,  a  great  friend  of  the  king,  but  still  a  greater 
friend  of  himself.  To  amuse  himself  he  had  only  that  morning  whispered  to  two 
ladies  under  the  seal  of  the  greatest  secrecy  that  the  prince  would  wear  red 
ribbons  on  his  black  domino.  Was  it  his  fault  that  these  ladies  had  not  been 
able  to  keep  the  secret,  or  that  the  prince  had  changed  his  dress? 


Piff-Paff. 


173 


While  the  baron  was  thus  enjoying  his  unexpected  triumph,  Charming  went 
and  seated  himself  in  a  corner  of  the  ball-room,  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 
Alone  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd  and  the  noise  he  sank  into  a  reverie,  and  the 
image  of  Pazza  rose  up  before  him.  He  did  not  reproach  himself  at  all,  his 
vengeance  had  been  just,  and  yet  he  felt  some  remorse.  Poor  Pazza!  No 
doubt  she  had  been  very  much  to  blame,  but  at  least  she  loved  him,  she  under- 
stood him,  she  listened  to  him  with  eyes  beaming  with  joy.  What  a  difference 
to  all  these  foolish  women,  who  could  not  at  once  recognize  a  prince  behind  his 
mask  !  He  rose  hastily  to  leave  the  ball,  when  at  a  little  distance  he  noticed  a 
mask  who,  like  himself,  had  withdrawn  from  the  fete,  and  seemed  to  be  lost  in 
thought.  The  domino  a  little  open  revealed 
the  dress  of  a  Spanish  gipsy,  and  shoes  with 
buckles  adorned  feet  smaller  than  Cinderella's. 

The  king  approached  nearer  to  the  object  of 
his  curiosity,  and  saw  behind  the  velvet  mask 
two  large  black  eyes,  whose  melancholy  gaze 
surprised  and  charmed  him. 

"  Beautiful  mask,"  he  said,  "  this  is  not  your 
place  ;  you  ought  to  be  in  the  midst  of  that 
excited  crowd  who  are  seeking  the  prince  to 
dispute  his  smile  and  his  heart — there  a  crown 
is  to  be  gained,  do  you  not  know  that  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  aspire  to  one,"  replied  the  domino, 
in  a  grave  gentle  voice.  "  To  play  at  that  game 
of  chance  is  to  risk  mistaking  the  Knave  for 
the  King,  and  I  am  too  proud  for  that." 

"But  if  I  pointed  out  to  you  the  king?" 
inquired  Charming. 

"  What  should  I  say  to  him  ?  "  answered  the  unknown.  "  I  should  no  longer 
have  the  right  to  blame  him  without  offense,  nor  to  praise  him  without  flattery." 

"  Then  you  think  very  badly  of  him  ?  "  returned  the  king. 

"  No,"  rejoined  the  stranger,  "only  a  little  badly.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
good  in  him  ;  but  what  does  it  matter?  " 

After  saying  this,  the  domino  opened  her  fan,  and  relapsed  into  a  reverie. 

This  indifference  astonished  Charming ;  he  spoke  eagerly,  but  she  answered 
coldly.  He  begged,  he  implored,  he  got  so  excited  that  at  last  the  lady  con- 
sented  to  listen  to  him,  not  any  longer  in  the  ballroom,  where  the  heat  was 


174  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

overpowering,  and  curiosity  apt  to  be  indiscreet,  but  under  the  long  avenues* 
where  a  few  scattered  couples  sought  a  little  silence  and  fresh  air. 

Night  was  advancing ;  already  the  gipsy  had  spoken  several  times  of  going 
home,  to  the  extreme  regret  of  the  prince,  who  in  vain  begged  her  to  unmask. 
The  lady  did  not  answer. 

"  You  drive  me  to  despair,  madam  !  "  cried  the  king,  who  felt  strangely  drawn 
toward  this  mysterious  guest.  "  Why  this  cruel  silence  ?  " 

"  It  is  because  I  have  recognized  you,  sire,"  replied  the  stranger,  with  emotion. 
"Your  voice — which  speaks  straight  to  the  heart — your  language,  your  grace, 
tell  too  clearly  who  you  are.  Let  me  go,  Prince  Charming." 

"  No,  madam,"  cried  the  king,  fascinated  by  so  much  intelligence  ;  "  you 
alone  have  recognized  me  ;  you  alone  have  understood  ;  to  you  belong  my  heart 
and  my  crown.  Take  off  that  hateful  mask,  and  let  us  return  at  once  to  the  ball- 
room, and  I  will  present  to  the  stupid  crowd  the  woman  that  I  have  the  happi- 
ness not  to  displease.  Say  but  the  word,  and  all  my  people  will  be  at  your 
feet." 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  unknown,  sadly,  "  allow  me  to  refuse  an  offer  which  does 
me  so  much  honor,  and  of  which  I  shall  ever  keep  the  memory.  I  confess  I  am 
ambitious ;  there  was  a  time  when  I  should  have  been  proud  to  share  your  name 
and  your  throne ;  but,  above  all,  I  am  a  woman,  and  all  my  happiness  is  in  being 
loved.  I  do  not  wish  to  share  a  divided  heart,  if  it  were  but  with  a  memory  ;  I 
am  jealous,  even  of  the  past." 

"  I  have  never  loved  any  one,"  cried  the  prince,  with  an  energy  that  made  the 
stranger  start.  "  There  was  a  mystery  in  my  marriage  that  I  can  only  reveal  to 
my  wife  ;  but  I  swear  to  you  that  I  never  loved  before,  and  that  I  do  so  now  for 
the  first  time." 

"  Show  me  your  hand,"  said  the  gipsy.  "  Come  near  this  lamp,  and  I  will  see 
if  you  are  telling  me  the  truth." 

Charming  held  out  his  hand  confidently.  The  gipsy  traced  the  lines  and 
sighed.  o 

"  You  are  right,  sire,"  said  she ;  "  you  have  never  loved ;  but  even  that  does 
not  satisfy  my  jealousy  ;  before  me  another  woman  has  loved  you.  Death  does 
not  break  these  sacred  ties ;  the  queen  still  loves  you,  and  you  belong  to  her. 
To  accept  the  heart  which  you  can  no  longer  dispose  of  would  be  on  my  part  a 
profanation  and  a  crime.  Farewell." 

"  Madam  !  "  rejoined  the  king,  in  a  confident  tone,  "  you  do  not  know  what 
you  are  making  me  suffer.  There  are  things  I  would  wish  to  bury  in  an  eternal 


175 


The  queen  never  loved  me  ;  ambition 


The 


silence,  and  which  you  force  me  to  reveal. 
alone  dictated  her  conduct." 

"  That  is  not  true,"  said  the  unknown,  letting  go  the  arm  of  the  prince. 
queen  loved  you." 

"  No,  madam,"  answered  Charming.  "  In  the  past  there  was  an  abominable 
intrigue,  of  which  I  and  my  father  were  the  victims." 

"  Enough,"  said  the  stranger,  whose  hands  were  trembling  and  whose  fingers 
twitched  in  a  curious  way.  "  At  least  respect  the  dead,  and  do  not  calumniate 
them." 

"  Madam,"  cried  the  prince,  "  I  assure  you  what  I  say  is  true,  and  nobody  has 
ever  doubted  my  word  ;  the  queen  never  loved  me  ;  she  was  a  wicked  woman." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  domino. 

"  Self-willed,  violent,  jealous  !  " 

"  If  she  was  jealous,  that  showed  she  loved 
you,"  interrupted  the  mask.  "  Seek  for  a 
proof  which  has  at  least  an  appearance  of 
probability.  Do  not  slander  a  heart  which 
was  wholly  yours." 

"  She  loved  me  so  little,"  said  the  king, 
much  moved,  "  that  the  very  evening  of  our 
marriage  she  dared  to  tell  me  to  my  face  that 
she  had  only  married  me  for  my  crown." 

"  That  is  not  true,"  said  the  gipsy,  raising 
her  hands.  "  That  is  not  true." 

"  Madam,  I  swear  it  !  " 

"  You  lie  !  "  cried  the  stranger. 

And  piff-paff  !  lo,  two  boxes  on  the  ear  blinded  the  eyes  of  the  prince,  and  the 
unknown  had  flown. 

Furious,  the  king  drew  back  two  steps,  and  felt  for  his  sword,  tut  a  man  does 
not  go  to  a  ball  dressed  as  if  for  battle,  and  instead  of  a  weapon  he  only  found 
a  bow  of  ribbon.  He  ran  after  his  enemy,  but  where  had  she  gone  ?  In  the 
labyrinth  of  avenues  Charming  lost  himself  twenty  times,  and  he  only  met  some 
harmless  dominoes  who  were  walking  about  in  couples,  and  did  not  trouble 
themselves  about  his  coming  or  going.  Out  of  breath  and  in  despair  he  re- 
entered  the  ball-room,  where  he  felt  sure  the  stranger  had  taken  refuge  ;  but  how 
was  he  to  discover  her? 

A  brilliant  idea  occurred  to  the  prince.     If  he  made  people  drop  their  masks. 


I76 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


he  would  be  sure  to  find  the  gipsy,  betrayed  by  her  own  agitation  and  confused 
by  the  presence  of  the  king. 

Immediately  Charming  jumped  upon  a  chair,  and  in  a  voice  which  startled  the 
whole  room — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  cried,  "  day  is  dawning,  and  the  fun  is  languish- 
ing! let  us  infuse  new  life  into  our  ball  by  a  fresh  caprice.  Let  us  put  off  our 
masks.  Whoever  loves  me  will  follow  my  example." 

He  put  off  his  domino,  threw  his  mask  away,  and  appeared  in  the  most  mag- 
nificent and  picturesque  Spanish  dress  ever  seen.  There  was  a  general  cry; 
every  eye  was  turned  on  the  king,  and  then  on  the  domino  with  red  ribbons, 
who  quickly  disappeared,  with  a  modesty  that  was  far 
from  assumed.  Each  one  unmasked,  and  all  the  ladies 
approached  the  prince.  It  was  remarked  that  he  had  a 
very  strong  preference  for  the  gipsies.  Every  zingari, 
young  or  old,  received  his  homage  :  he  took  their  hands 
and  gazed  at  them  with  an  expression  wl.ich  made  all  the 
other  masks  frightfully  jealous.  Then,  suddenly  he  made 
a  sign  to  the  orchestra ;  the  dancing  recommenced,  and 
the  prince  disappeared. 

He  ran  out  again  into  the  gardens,  hoping  to  find  the 
traitress  who  had  insulted  him.     What  was  leading  him 
on?     Vengeance,    doubtless.      His   blood    boiled  in   his 
veins,  he  walked  he  knew  not  whither ;  he  would  stop 
suddenly,  look    round   and   listen.     At  tht  least  ray  of 
light  which   penetrated   the  foliage  he   darted    forward 
like  a  madman.     In  the  windings  of  one  alley  he  met 
Rachimburg,  who  advanced  toward  him  with  scared  look  and  shaking  hands. 
"  Sire,"  whispered  he  in  a  mysterious  voice,  "your  majesty  has  seen  it  ?  " 
"  What  ?  "  asked  the  king. 

"  The  phantom,  sire.  It  passed  close  to  me.  I  am  a  lost  man  ;  to-morrow  I 
shall  be  dead." 

||  What  phantom  ?  "  inquired  Charming.     "  What  is  the  idiot  talking  about  ?  " 
"  A  specter — a  domino  with  flaming  eyes,"  replied  Rachimburg,  "  which  made 
me  kneel  down,  and  gave  me  two  boxes  on  the  ear." 
'^  It  is  she,"  cried  the  king,  "  it  is  she  !     Why  did  you  let  her  escape?  " 
"  Please  your  majesty,  I  had  not  my  halberd  with  me,  but  if  ever  I  see  her 
again,  living  or  dead,  I  will  strike  her." 


Piff-Paff. 


177 


"You  had  better  not,"  said  the  king.  "  If  ever  she  returns,  be  careful  not  to 
frighten  her,  but  follow  her  and  discover  her  retreat.  But  where  is  she  ?  Where 
can  she  have  passed  ?  Lead  me  ;  if  I  find  her  your  fortune  is  made." 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  honest  porter,  looking  at  the  moon,  "  if  the  phantom  is 
any  where  at  all,  it  is  up  there.  I  saw  it  as  clearly  as  I  see  you  vanish  away 
in  mist.  But  before  disappearing,  it  told  me  to  say  two  words  to  your  majesty." 

"  Speak  quickly,"  exclaimed  Charming. 

"  Sire,"  he  answered,  "these  words  are  terrible  ;  I  shall  never  dare  repeat  them 
to  your  majesty." 

"  Speak,  I  insist  upon  it." 

"  Sire,  the  phantom  said  in   a  sepulchral  tone,  '  Go  tell  the  king,  tint  if  he 
weds  another  he  is  a  dead  man.     The  beloved 
one  will  return.'  " 

"  Enough,"  said  the  prince,  whose  eyes  now 
shone  with  a  strange  brilliancy :  "  take  my 
purse ;  henceforth  you  are  attached  to  my 
person.  I  appoint  you  first  valet  of  the  bed- 
chamber. I  count  upon  your  devotion  and 
your  discretion.  Let  this  ever  remain  a  secret 
between  us." 

"  It  is  the  second,"  murmured  Rachimburg; 
and  he  went  away  with  a  firm  tread,  like  a 
man  who  neither  allows  himself  to  be  cast  down 
by  evil  fortune,  nor  dazzled  by  good. 

In  the  Gazette  the  next  day  the  following 
lines  were  to  be  seen : — "  It  is  reported 
that  the  king  thinks  of  marrying  again  shortly. 
The  king  knows  what  he  owes  to  his  subjects, 
and  is  ready  to  sacrifice  himself  for  their  good, 
but  the  people  of  Thistledown  have  too  much 

delicacy  of  feeling  not  to  respect  his  recent  sorrow ;  the  king  can  only  think  of 
his  beloved  wife.  He  hopes  for  consolation  in  time,  which  as  yet  he  has  not 
found." 

This  paragraph  threw  the  court  and  the  whole  town  into  a  state  of  excite- 
ment ;  the  young  girls  considered  that  the  king  was  overscrupulous,  and  more 
than  one  mother  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  said  the  king  had  the  prejudices  of 
a  bourgeois.  But  by  evening  every  household  was  set  by  the  ears.  There  was 


!78  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

not  a  woman  who  did  not  seek  a  quarrel  with  her  husband,  and  force  him  to  con- 
fess that  there  was  only  one  heart  in  all  the  kingdom  capable  of  loving,  and  only 
one  faithful  husband,  and  that  was  King  Charming. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TWO  CONSULTATIONS. 

AFTER  so  many  agitating  events,  the  King  was  seized  with  an  extreme  ennui. 
To  divert  his  mind,  he  tried  all  sorts  of  amusements ;  he  went  out  hunting, 
he  presided  at  his  council  of  state,  he  went  to  the  play  and  to  the  opera,  he  gave 
grand  receptions,  he  read  a  Carthaginian  novel,  and  held  a  dozen  reviews — but 
all  in  vain.  An  ever-present  memory  allowed  him  neither  peace  nor  repose. 
The  gipsy  haunted  him  even  in  his  dreams,  he  saw  her,  spoke  to  her,  and  she 
listened ;  but  somehow,  whenever  the  mask  fell,  it  was  the  pale,  sad  face  of 
Pazza  that  appeared  to  him. 

The  baron  was  the  sole  confidant  to  whom  Charming  could  confess  his  re 
morse,  but  at  the  word  remorse  Wieduwillst  would  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Effect  of  habit,  sire,"  he  would  say.     "  Multiply  impressions,  and  the  feeling 
will  wear  off." 

To  distract  the  prince  and  help  him  to  get  rid  of  his  sorrow  by  strong 
measures,  the  baron  used  to  sup  every  evening  tete-a-t^te  with  his  majesty,  and  in 
the  wine-cup  the  king  found  oblivion.  Wieduwillst  drank  as  much  as  the  king, 
but  the  wine  did  not  get  into  his  strong  head.  The  baron  might  have  challenged 
both  Bacchus  and  Silenus.  While  Charming,  by  turns  noisy  or  silent,  was  at 
one  of  the  two  extremes — either  hilarious  or  much  depressed,  always  excited  and 
never  happy — Wieduwillst,  calm  and  smiling,  influenced  the  mind  of  the  prince, 
and  out  of  sheer  goodness  of  heart  took  the  burden  of  government  on  his  own 
shoulders.  Already  three  decrees  had  placed  in  his  hand  the  Ministries  of  Jus 
tice,  Finance,  and  Police.  The  baron  well  understood  the  advantages  of  cen- 
tralization. He  administered  the  taxes  in  such  away  as  to  remove  from  himself 
all  anxiety  about  the  future.  Justice  in  his  hands  struck  at  those  rash  people 
who  complained  too  loudly,  while  the  police  knew  how  to  silence  those 
who  spoke  under  their  breath.  Yet  notwithstanding  the  ingenuity  of  these 
political  combinations,  the  people,  ever  ungrateful,  did  not  appreciate  their  hap. 


Piff-Paff. 


piness.  The  worthy  inhabitants  of  Thistledown  loved  to  grumble,  and  now  the:* 
pleasure  was  spoiled.  The  name  of  King  Oddo  was  ever  in  their  thoughts,  anc* 
every  one  regretted  the  good  old  times  when  they  used  to  cry  aloud  on  the 
housetop  that  they  were  gagged. 

The  baron  was  ambitious ;  he  felt  he  was  born  to  be  a  vizier.  Each  morning1 
some  new  ordinance  made  the  people  feel  that  the  king  was  nothing,  the  minister 
every  thing.  Charming  was  the  only  person  who  was  not  aware  of  his  own 
insignificance.  Shut  up  in  his  palace  and  devoured  by  ennui,  his  only  companion 
was  a  page  whom  the  prime  minister  had  attached  to  the  king's  person  on  the 
recommendation  of  Rachimburg.  Wieduwillst  was  too  much  a  man  of  the  world 
to  refuse  any  thing  to  a 
first  valet  of  the  bed- 
chamber. Frolicsome, 
an  indiscreet  chatterbox, 
and  over  and  above  these 
things  a  good  musician 
and  a  first-rate  hand  at 
cards,  Tonto  (which  was 
the  boy's  name)  amused 
the  king  by  his  merry 
ways,  and  pleased  the 
minister  no  less  by  his 
other  virtues.  Devoted 
to  his  patron,  the  amia- 
ble page  innocently  re- 
peated to  him  everything 
the  prince  said.  This  was  not  a  difficult  matter,  for  the  king  was  always  in  a 
brown  study  and  never  said  any  thing. 

It  is  a  fine  thing  to  have  all  the  solid  benefits  of  power,  but  even  with  ministers 
fappttit  vient  en  mangeant.  The  ambitious  Wieduwillst  now  wanted  the  honors 
and  pomp  of  royalty.  To  dethrone  Charming  never  entered  into  the  head  of  his 
best  friend :  people  have  sometimes  stupid  prejudices  and  cling  to  old  habits ; 
but  nothing  could  be  easier  than  to  frighten  the  prince  into  believing  himself  ill, 
and  to  send  him  some  way  off  to  seek  a  cure  which  would  take  a  long  time.  In 
his  absence  Charming  would  appoint  him  his  regent. 

Charming  was  young,  he  still  clung  to  life,  and  besides,  how  could  he  resist 
the  affectionate  solicitude  of  the  good  baron  ?  One  evening  a  consultation  took 


ig0  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

place  at  the  palace  between  the  three  most  learned  members  of  the  faculty,  the 
tall  Tristan— stout  Jocundus,  and  little  Guilleret— three  very  celebrated  men, 
who  had  made  their  fortunes— each  had  one  idea,  which  means  they  never  had 
possessed  more. 

After  the  king  had  been  examined,  his  breathing  listened  to,  his  pulse  felt,  and 
himself  turned  round  and  round,  Tristan  took  up  his  parable  and  in  a  rough  voice 
said: 

"  Sire,  you  must  take  care  of  yourself  like  a  peasant  and  live  without  exerting 
yourself  in  the  least.  Your  disease  is  want  of  power,  a  constitutional  atony ; 
there  is  nothing  but  a  journey  to  Clearwells  which  can  cure  you.  Go  at  once,  or 
you  are  a  dead  man.  That  is  my  advice." 

"Sire,"  went  on  the  portly  Jocundus,  "I  entirely  agree  with  the  admirable 
opinion  of  my  learned  colleague.  You  are  ill  from  being  in  fact  too  well.  Your 
illness  proceeds  from  constitutional  plethora.  Go  and  drink  the  waters  of  Clear- 
wells  and  you  will  find  yourself  completely  cured.  Go  at  once,  or  you  are  a 
dead  man.  That  is  my  advice." 

"  Sire,"  said  little  Guilleret,  "  I  can  only  admire  the  wonderful  acumen  of  my 
seniors.  I  bow  before  their  greater  knowledge.  Like  them,  I  believe  you  to  be 
suffering  from  derangement  of  the  nervous  system.  Go  and  drink  the  waters  at 
Clearwells  and  you  will  be  cured.  Go  at  once,  or  you  are  a  dead  man.  That  is 
my  advice." 

Hereupon  they  committed  to  writing  their  unanimous  opinions,  which  Tonto 
carried  at  once  to  the  office  of  the  Court  Gazette.  Then  the  three  doctors  rose,  took 
leave  of  the  king  and  the  minister,  pocketed  their  fees,  and  descended  the  staircase 
of  the  palace,  quarreling  among  themselves,  or  laughing,  I  do  not  know  which. 

After  the  departure  of  the  three  physicians  Wieduwillst  read  the  result  of  the 
consultation,  considered  a  while,  and  looked  at  the  king.  Charming,  who  that 
evening  had  supped  a  little  better  than  usual,  was  distraught  and  had  not  even 
listened  to  the  doctors. 

"  Sire,"  said  he,  "  the  unanimous  advice  of  these  gentlemen  is  that  if  you  wish 
to  be  cured,  you  must  go  off  at  once  to  Clearwells  and  abandon  for  a  time  all 
state  affairs.  Now  this  seems  to  me  unworthy  of  your  majesty ;  a  great  prince 
ought  to  sacrifice  himself  for  his  people,  and — " 

"  Enough,  enough,"  interrupted  the  king,  "  spare  me  that  old  saw.  Let  us 
come  to  the  point.  You  want  me  to  go,  my  good  friend ;  you  are  dying  to  get 
rid  of  me — for  my  own  good — I  know.  Make  out  a  decree  that  I  intrust  to  you 
the  regency  and  I  will  sign  it." 


Piff-Paff. 


181 


"  Sire,"  returned  Wieduwillst,  " the  decree  is  there  in  the  portfolio  ;  a  wise 
minister  has  always  rough  draughts  of  such  things  to  suit  any  circumstance  that 
may  arise.  We  never  know  what  may  happen." 

Charming  took  the  pen,  and  carelessly  signed  the  decree  without  reading  it. 
He  handed  it  to  the  minister,  who  came  forward  smiling ;  suddenly  the  king 
withdrew  the  paper,  and  for  a  whim  read  it. 

"  What,"  said  he,  "  no  setting  forth  of  reasons?  no  assurance  to  my  people  of 
the  good-will  I  bear  you  ?     Baron,  you  are  too  modest !     To-morrow  this  decree 
shall  be  in  the  Gazette  with  a  preamble  written 
by  your  master  and  your  friend.     Good-night ; 
those  gentlemen  have  tired  me." 

The  prime  minister  went  out  with  a  light  step 
and  sparkling  eyes,  carrying  his  head  high,  and 
even  prouder  and  more  insolent  than  usual. 
Left  alone,  Charming  relapsed  into  a  reverie, 
and  thought  that  after  all  he  was  not  the  most 
unhappy  of  princes,  since  heaven  had  given 
him  a  friend. 

Suddenly,  without  being  announced,  the 
queerest  little  physician  that  was  ever  seen  in  a 
palace  entered  the  king's  apartment.  His  wig 
was  perfectly  white  and  curled  down  to  the 
middle  of  his  back,  a  beard  like  snow  hung 
down  to  the  bottom  of  his  waistcoat,  and  he 
had  besides  wonderfully  bright  youthful  eyes 

which  made  one  think  they  had  come  into  the  world  sixty  years  after  the  rest  of 
his  body. 

"  Where  are  those  idiots  ?  "  he  cried  in  a  shrill  voice,  striking  the  ground  with 
his  cane.  "  Where  are  those  ignorant  stupid  pedants,  who  never  waited  for  me? 
Ah  !  "  he  added,  turning  to  the  stupefied  king,  "  you  are  the  patient.  That's  all 
right.  Show  me  your  tongue.  Quick,  I  am  in  a  hurry." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  inquired  the  king. 

"  Dr.  Truth,  the  greatest  physician  in  the  world,"  replied  the  new  comer.  "  You 
will  soon  see  that,  in  spite  of  my  modesty.  Ask  my  pupil,  Wieduwillst,  who 
made  me  come  from  Dreamland.  I  can  cure  every  thing,  even  diseases  which  do 
not  exist.  Show  me  your  tongue.  Good.  Where  is  the  report  of  the  consul- 
tation?  Very  good.  'Atony' — he's  an  ass  !  'Plethora' — he's  a  greater  ass!  1 


!82  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

'  Nerves  '—he's  the  greatest  ass  ! ! !  '  Drink  the  waters  '—they  are  all  asses ! ! ! ! 
Do  you  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  It  is  sorrow,  and  worse  than  that." 

"  Do  you  see  that  ?  "  asked  Charming,  quite  startled. 

"  Yes,  my  son,  it  is  written  on  your  tongue.  But  I  will  soon  cure  you.  To- 
morrow by  mid-day  you  will  be  all  right." 

"  To-morrow !  "  said  the  king.     "  But  all  my  treasures " 

"  Silence,  my  son,"  replied  the  doctor.     "  Whose  is  this  portfolio?" 

"  The  minister's,"  answered  the  king. 

"Good.     Sign  these  three  papers  for  me." 

"  They  are  blank  decrees,"  said  the  king.  "  What  do  you  want  to  do  with 
them  ?  " 

"  They  are  my  orders,"  returned  the  stranger.  Contraria  contrariis  curantur. 
Sign.  Good  !  Be  obedient,  my  son.  To-morrow  at  noon  you  will  be  as  gay  as 
a  lark.  First  decree  :  '  Si  vis  pacem,  para  pacem ' — I  suppress  six  regiments. 
Second  decree  :  '  A  penny  in  the  pocket  of  the  peasant  is  worth  twenty  in  the 
king's  treasury' — I  suppress  the  fourth  part  of  the  taxes.  Third  decree: 
'  Liberty  is  like  the  sun,  it  is  the  happiness  and  fortune  of  the  poor ;  leave  him 
his  right  to  the  sunshine  ' — I  open  all  the  political  prisons,  and  I  abolish  prisons 
for  debt.  You  laugh,  my  son.  It  is  a  good  sign  when  a  sick  man  laughs  at  his 
doctor." 

"  Yes,"  said  Charming  ;  "  I  laugh  as  I  think  of  the  expression  of  Wieduwillst's 
face  when  he  reads  these  orders  in  the  Gazette.  Enough  of  this  folly,  Dr. 
Buffoon.  Give  me  back  those  papers.  Let  us  have  no  more  of  this  farce." 

"  What  is  that  ? "  asked  the  little  man,  taking  up  the  decree  of  regency. 
"  Heaven  forgive  me,  it  is  an  abdication !  Is  that  what  you  are  thinking  of, 
King  Charming  ?  What !  The  heritage  of  your  fathers,  the  people  intrusted 
to  you,  your  honor,  your  good  name — you  cast  every  thing  at  the  feet  of  an 
adventurer?  You  allow  yourself  to  be  dethroned  and  duped  by  a  traitor? 
Impossible !  I  will  not  allow  it ;  I  object.  Do  you  hear?  " 

"  Who  are  you,  insolent  man,"  exclaimed  Charming,  "  who  dares  so  to  address 
your  king?" 

"  Never  mind,"  replied  the  doctor ;  "  politeness  does  not  consist  in  words. 
Have  you  nothing  else  on  your  mind?" 

"This  is  too  much,"  cried  the  king.  "  Leave  my  presence  instantly,  or  I  will 
throw  you  out  of  the  window." 

"  Leave  the  room !  "  cried  the  little  doctor,  in  his  shrillest  voice.  "  No !  not 
before  I  have  annulled  this  act  of  folly  and  stupidity." 


183 

Charming  seized  the  madman,  and  called  his  guards.  No  one  answered. 
Now  threatening,  now  beseeching,  the  little  old  man  struggled  with  astonishing 
vivacity.  With  a  kick  he  managed  to  throw  the  lamp  down  ;  but  the  king,  not 
fearing  the  darkness,  held  on  tight  to  the  wizard,  whose  strength  grew  less  and 
less. 

"  Let  me  go,"  murmured  the  unknown ;  "  for  Heaven's  sake,  let  me  go !  You 
don't  know  what  you  are  doing.  You  are  breaking  my  arm." 

Words  and  prayers  were  all  in  vain.  Suddenly,  Piff-paff !  piff-paff  !  a  shower 
of  boxes  on  the  ear  from  a  bold  hand  descended  on  the  king.  Taken  aback, 
Charming  strove  to  catch  his  invisible  enemy,  but  he  only  clutched  the  empty 
air,  and  stumbling,  called  loudly  for  help,  which  did  not  come.  A  similar  thing 
would  never  have  happened  to  a  minister.  Kings  are  always  the  worst  guarded. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  END   OF  A  DREAM. 

AT  last  the  door  opened,  and  Rachimburg  entered  according  to  custom,  to 
help  his  majesty  to  undress.  The  faithful  servant  was  exceedingly  puzzled 
to  find  the  king  in  the  dark,  groping  along  the  wall. 

"Where  is  that  fiend  of  a  doctor?  "  inquired  Charming,  who  was  foaming  with 
rage. 

"  His  excellency  quitted  the  palace  more  than  an  hour  ago." 

"  I  am  not  speaking  of  Wieduwillst,"  exclaimed  the  king.  "  Where  is  that 
scoundrel  who  has  just  insulted  me?  " 

Rachimburg  looked  at  the  king  with  a  contrite  air,  and  raised  his  eyes  to 
heaven  and  sighed. 

"  A  man  has  gone  out  by  the  door  that  leads  to  your  room,"  said  Charming. 
"  How  did  he  come  in  ?  How  can  he  have  made  his  escape  ?  " 

"Sire,"  replied  Rachimburg,  "I  have  never  left  my  post,  and  I  have  seen 
no  one." 

"  I  tell  you  that  a  man  was  in  this  room  a  moment  ago." 

"  Sire,  your  majesty  can  never  be  wrong,"  returned  the  servant.  "  If  a  man 
was  in  this  room,  he  is  in  it  still ;  that  is  to  say,  if  he  has  not  flown  away,  or  U 
your  majesty  was  not  dreaming." 


!84  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  Thrice  doited  idiot !  "  cried  the  king.     "  Do  I  look  like  a  man  who  was  dream- 
ing?     Did  I  upset  the  lamp  ?     Did  I  tear  up  these  papers ?  " 

"  Sire,"  said  Rachimburg,  "  I  am  only  a  worm.     Heaven  forbid  that  I  should 
give  the  lie  to  my  sovereign  !     Your  majesty  does  not  pay  me  for  contradicting 
you.     But  this  year  there  has  been  an  epidemic  of  singular  dreams.     It  is  im- 
possible to  say  vhat  one  may  do  or  suffer  in  one's  sleep.     Only  just  now  sleep 
overtook  me.  and  if  I  was  not  sure  I  had  been  dreaming,  I  would  say  that  an 
invisible  hand  had  given  me  two  boxes  on  the  ear,  which  woke  me  with  a  start." 
"  Two  boxes  on  the  ear ! "  said  the  king.     "  It  must  have  been  the  phantom  !  " 
"  Your  majesty  is  certainly  right.     I  am  only  an  idiot !  "  exclaimed  Rachim- 
burg.    "  It  must  have  been  the  phantom." 

"  And  I  never  recognized  it ! "  said  Charming.     "  Of  course  it  was  its  voice 

and  action  all  the  time.  What  does  it 
mean?  Is  it  a  new  insult?  Is  it  a  warn- 
ing from  Heaven  ?  Does  some  danger 
threaten  me  ?  It  matters  not ;  I  will 
remain  in  my  kingdom.  My  friend,  not 
a  word  of  all  this.  Take  this  purse,  and 
keep  my  secret." 

"  It  is  the  third,"  muttered  the  faith- 
ful   Rachimburg;    whereupon   he    un- 
dressed   the    king    with    a    zeal    and 
adroitness  which  made  his  majesty  smile  more  than  once. 

So  many  emotions  one  after  the  other  kept  sleep  from  the  prince's  pillow,  and 
it  was  already  dawn  before  he  sank  into  a  deep  slumber,  and  nearly  midday 
when  he  awoke.  At  that  first  moment  of  waking,  when  one  is  neither  asleep  nor 
fully  awake,  Charming  thought  he  heard  curious  noises  ;  the  bells  were  ringing, 
cannons  roared,  and  three  or  four  military'  bands  were  each  playing  a  different 
air.  He  was  not  mistaken,  there  was  an  infernal  din.  The  king  rang  his  bell, 
and  Rachimburg  entered,  holding  in  his  hand  a  bouquet  of  flowers. 

"  Sire,"  said  he,  "  let  your  majesty  permit  the  humblest  of  his  servants  to  be 
the  first  to  express  the  universal  joy.  Your  people  are  intoxicated  with  grati- 
tude and  love.  The  taxes  diminished !  The  prisons  opened ! !  The  army 
reduced  ! ! !  Sire,  you  are  the  greatest  king  in  the  world.  Never  has  the  earth 
seen  your  equal.  Show  yourself  on  the  balcony,  respond  to  those  cries  of  '  Long 
live  the  king  I '  Smile  upon  your  subjects  who  are  calling  down  blessings  upon 
your  head." 


fiff-Paff. 


185 


Rachimburg  could  not  finish  for  his  tears  prevented  him.  He  tried  to  dry  his 
eyes,  but  he  was  so  excited  that  instead  of  his  pocket-handkerchief  he  drew  the 
Court  Gazette  from  his  pocket  and  set  to  kissing  it  like  a  maniac." 

Charming  took  the  paper,  and  while  he  was  being  dressed,  tried  in  vain  to 
collect  his  scattered  ideas.  By  what  possible  chance  could  these  mad  decrees 
have  found  their  way  into  the  official  journal  ?  Who  could  have  put  them  in? 
Why  did  not  Wieduwillst  make  his  appearance?  The  prince  wanted  to  consider 
the  matter,  to  ask  questions,  and  to  take  counsel ;  but  the  people  were  already 
under  his  windows,  and  his  majesty  King  Mob  must  not  be  kept  waiting. 

As  soon  as  the  king  appeared  on  the  balcony  he  was  greeted  by  enthusiastic 
cheers,  which  touched  him  in  spite  of  himself.  Men  threw  their  hats  into  the 
air,  women  waved  their  handkerchiefs,  mothers  held  up  their  children  and  made 
them  cry  "  Long  live  the  king  ! "  The  guards  of  the  palace  had  flowers  in  the 
muzzles  of  their  mus- 
kets, the  drums  were 
beating,  the  officers 
waved  their  swords 
which  flashed  in  the 
sun,  and  there  was 
universal  joy.  The 
general  emotion  touch- 
ed Charming;  he  shed 
tears  without  knowing 
why.  At  that  moment 
twelve  o'clock  struck. 

The  phantom  was  right,  the  prince  was  cured.  After  the  crowd,  it  was  the  turn 
of  the  officers  of  state,  who  came  with  the  ministers  at  their  head,  to  congratu- 
late  and  thank  the  king  for  having  so  well  understood  the  wishes  of  his  faithful 
counselors. 

Only  one  person  was  absent  from  the//te,  and  that  was  Wieduwillst.  Where 
had  he  hidden  his  rage  and  disgust?  No  one  knew.  A  mysterious  note  received 
that  morning  had  decided  him  to  make  his  escape  at  once,  and  yet  in  this  note 
were  only  these  simple  words,  "The  king  knows  all ! "  Who  had  written  this 
fatal  missive  ?  It  was  not  the  prince ;  he  alone  perhaps  in  the  palace  thought  of 
his  minister,  and  was  surprised  not  to  see  him  near  him. 

Suddenly  Tonto  entered,  pale  and  discomfited  ;  he  ran  to  the  king  and  handed 
him  a  sealed  letter,  which  an  officer  had  brought  at  full  gallop.  The  governor  of 


1 86  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

the  province,  General  Bayonet,  announced  terrible  news.  The  six  regiments 
which  had  been  disbanded  had  revolted,  with  Wieduwillst  at  their  head.  The 
mutineers  had  proclaimed  the  dethronement  of  the  king,  whom  they  accused  of 
horrible  crimes,  and  especially  of  the  murder  of  the  queen.  They  were  numer- 
ous and  ably  generaled,  and  were  approaching  the  capital,  which  was  badly 
defended  by  a  few  discontented,  doubtful  regiments.  Bayonet  implored  the  king 
to  come  without  a  moment's  loss  of  time  and  take  the  command  of  the  army ;  an 
hour  late  and  every  thing  would  be  lost. 

Led  away  by  Tonto  and  Rachimburg,  the  king,  followed  by  some  of  his 
officers,  left  the  palace  secretly.  A  proclamation,  placarded  on  the  walls  of  the 
city  and  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  affirmed  that  there  was  not  a  word  of  truth 
in  the  rumors  that  had  been  circulated  by  some  malicious  persons,  and  that  the 
army  had  never  been  more  loyal  or  more  devoted.  Thereupon  there  was  a 
universal  panic,  consols  fell  five  per  cent,  in  half  an  hour,  and  only  went  up  on  the 
receipt  of  non-official  intelligence  that  the  king  had  been  well  received  at  the 
general's  head-quarters. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
"  WHEN  BALE  IS  AT  HIGHEST,  BOTE  IS  AT  NIGHEST." 

HP  HE  news  was  false;  the  king  had  been  very  c^dly  received.  It  was  his 
-L  own  fault ;  melancholy,  dispirited,  and  dreamy  Charming  could  not  find 
one  cheerful  remark  to  make  to  the  soldiers,  nor  one  word  of  encouragement  and 
confidence  for  the  officers.  He  entered  the  general's  tent  and  sank  with  a  sigh 
into  a  chair.  Tonto  was  scarcely  less  overcome. 

"Sire,"  said  Bayonet,  "  allow  me  to  speak  to  you  with  the  frankness  and  the 
freedom  of  an  old  friend.  The  army  is  ripe  for  mutiny,  but  it  still  hesitates ;  we 
must  infuse  a  new  spirit  into  it.  The  enemy  is  in  sight,  let  us  attack ;  five 
minutes  can  sometimes  decide  the  fate  of  empires,  and  such  is  the  case  at  present. 
Do  not  wait  until  it  is  too  late." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  king,  "  give  the  word  to  mount.  In  an  instant  I  shall 
be  with  you." 

Left  alone  with  Rachimburg  and  Tonto,  the  king  resumed,  in  a  despairing 
tone. 

"My  good  friends,"  said  he,  "leave  a  master  who  can  no  longer  do  any  thing. 


Piff-Paff.  I87 

for  you.  My  miserable  life  is  not  worth  a  struggle.  Betrayed  by  my  friend, 
assassinated  by  a  traitor,  I  can  recognize  in  my  affliction  the  finger  of  Providence.' 
It  is  the  just  chastisement  for  my  crime.  I  killed  the  queen  by  my  stupid  ven- 
geance ;  the  hour  is  come  for  me  to  expiate  my  fault.  I  am  ready." 

"  Sire,"  said  Tonto,  trying  to  smile,  "  shake  off  these  melancholy  thoughts. 
If  the  queen  were  here  she  would  wish  you  to  defend  yourself.  Take  my  word 
for  it,"  he  added,  twisting  his  incipient  mustache ;  "  I  know  women  ;  were  they 
dead,  they  would  still  like  to  be  avenged.  Besides,  you  have  not  killed  the  queen  ; 
perhaps  she  is  not  so  dead  as  you  think." 

"  Child,  what  is  that  you  say?"  cried  the  king.     "You  are  losing  your  head." 

"  I  say,"  replied  the  page,  "  that  there  are  women  who  make  a  point  of  dying 
just  to  aggravate  their  husbands,  and  why  should  there  not  be  others  who  come 
to  life  again  to  aggravate  them  still  more  ?  Do  not  think  of  the  dead,  think  of 
the  living  who  love  you.  You  are  a  king,  fight  like  a  king  ;  and  if  you  must  die, 
die  like  a  king." 

"  Sire,"  cried  Bayonet,  as  he  entered,  sword  in  hand,  "time  presses." 

"  General,  let  them  sound  to  horse,"  exclaimed  Tonto. 

"We  are  off." 

Charming  let  the  general  go,  and,  looking  at  Tonto,  said  : 

"  No,  I  shall  not  go.  I  don't  know  what  I  feel.  I  hate  myself.  I  don't  fear 
death.  I  am  going  to  kill  myself,  and  yet  I  am  frightened.  I  cannot  fight." 

"  Sire,"  said  Tonto,  "  for  Heaven's  sake,  recover  your  courage.  To  horse  ! — 
you  must.  Good  heavens  !  "  cried  he,  wringing  his  hands,  "  the  king  will  not 
listen  to  me,  and  we  are  lost !  Come,"  said  he,  taking  hold  of  the  prince  by  his 
cloak.  "  Get  up,  sire.  To  horse,  unhappy  man  !  Charming,  save  your  kingdom, 
save  your  people,  save  all  you  love.  Coward !  look  at  me.  I  am  only  a  boy, 
and  I  am  about  to  die  for  you.  You  disgrace  yourself.  I,  your  servant,  shall 
insult  you.  You  are  a  coward!  Do  you  hear? — a  coward!"  and  piff-paff! 
behold  the  king  boxed  on  the  ears  by  an  insolent  page. 

"  Thunder  and  lightning  !  "  cried  the  king,  drawing  his  sword.  "  Before  I  die, 
I  will  at  least  have  the  satisfaction  of  killing  that  wretched  boy." 

But  the  wretched  boy  had  run  out  of  the  tent.  At  one  bound  he  jumped  on 
his  horse,  and  sword  in  hand  had  dashed  straight  towards  the  enemy.  "  The 
king,  my  friends  !  "  he  shouted.  "  The  king !  Sound  the  trumpets  !  Forwards ' 
forwards !  " 

Charming,  mad  with  rage,  had  vaulted  into  the  saddle  in  pursuit  of  the  boj 
Like  a  bull  enraged  by  a  red  rag,  he  galloped  with  lowered  head,  never  thinking 


i88 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


about  danger  or  death.  Bayonet  rode  after  the  king,  and  the  army  followed  their 
general.  It  was  the  finest  cavalry  charge  on  record.  At  the  sound  of  the  ad- 
vancing squadrons,  which  made  the  earth  tremble,  the  enemy,  taken  by  surprise, 
had  scarcely  time  to  form  in  line  of  battle.  But  one  man  had  recognized  the 
king,  and  this  was  the  wicked  Wieduwillst.  Charming,  wholly  occupied  with  his 
vengeance,  saw  nothing  but  the  page  whom  he  was  pursuing,  and  the  traitor, 
/grasping  his  saber,  threw  himself  on  the  prince.  All  would  have  been  over  with 
the  king  had  not  Tonto,  by  an  heroic  act  of  devotion,  dug  his  spurs  into  his 
horse's  flanks,  and  thus  made  the  animal  rear  and  throw  him  against  Wieduwillst. 
The  page  received  the  blow  destined  for  his  master.  He  gave  one  great  cry, 

threw  out  his  arms  and 
fell;  but  instantly  his 
death  was  avenged,  for 
the  king  buried  his  sword 
up  to  the  hilt  in  the  body 
of  the  perfidious  minister, 
and  with  a  certain  savage 
satisfaction  drew  it  out  all 
dripping  with  blood. 
Certainly  man  is  the  king 
of  wild  beasts. 

The  death  of  the  traitor 
decided  the  day  ;  the  royal 
army,  electrified  by  the 
heroism  of  its  leader,  soon 

routed  a  few  battalions  that  made  no  resistance.  The  rebels,  who  had  nothing 
to  hope  for,  asked  for  pardon,  which  was  at  once  accorded  them  by  the  happy 
and  merciful  king.  One  hour  after  leaving  the  camp,  where  he  had  wanted  to 
die,  Charming  re-entered  it  as  a  conqueror,  leading  victors  and  vanquished  in  the 
same  ranks.  The  first  shouted  very  loud,  and  the  second  louder  still.  Nothing 
gives  such  fervor  to  loyalty  as  a  little  treason. 


189 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHERE  IT  IS    SEEN    THAT    PEOPLE    MUST    NOT   BE  JUDGED  BY  APPEARANCES, 
AND  THAT  TONTO  WAS  NOT  TONTO. 

THE  king  entered  the  tent  to  take  a  little  rest,  when  the  sight  of  Rachim- 
burg  reminded  him  of  Tonto. 

"  Is  the  page  dead  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  No,  sire,"  answered  Rachimburg,  "  unfortunately  for  himself  he  still  lives. 
There  is  no  hope.  I  had  him  carried  two  steps  from  here  to  his  aunt's,  the 
Marchioness  of  Costoro." 

"  Is  he  the  nephew  of  the  marchioness  ?  "  exclaimed  the  king.  "  I  was  never 
told  that  before." 

"  Your  majesty  has  forgotten,"  calmly  answered  the  first  valet  of  the  chamber. 
"  The  poor  boy  has  a  dangerous  wound  in  the  shoulder ;  he  can  never  recover. 
It  would  be  a  great  satisfaction  to  him  to  see  your  majesty  before  he  dies." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  king,  "  lead  me  to  the  poor  dying  fellow." 

When  he  arrived  at  the  castle,  the  king  was  received  by  the  marchioness,  who 
conducted  him  to  a  darkened  room,  where  the  thick  curtains  scarce  allowed  day- 
light to  penetrate.  The  page,  pale  and  wounded,  lay  stretched  on  the  bed. 
Nevertheless,  he  had  sufficient  strength  to  lift  his  head  from  the  pillow  to  greet 
the  king. 

"  How  is  this?"  cried  Charming;  "it  is  the  queerest  wound  I  have  ever  seen 
in  my  life — the  page  has  only  a  mustache  on  one  side  of  his  face." 

"  Sire,"  remarked  the  marchioness,  "  it  is  probably  caused  by  the  sword  having 
cut  off  the  other  half  of  the  mustache." 

"Why,  what  miracle  is  this?"  exclaimed  the  prince.  "On  one  side  it  is  my 
page,  the  rascal  Tonto  ;  on  the  other — no,  I  am  not  deceiving  myself — it  is  you, 
my  good  angel  and  deliverer — it  is  you,  my  poor  Pazza." 

And  the  king  fell  on  his  knees  and  seized  the  hand  which  she  held  out  to  him. 

"  Sire,"  said  Pazza,  "  my  days  are  numbered ;  but,  before  I  die " 

"  No,  no,  Pazza,  you  must  not  die ! "  cried  the  prince  in  tears. 

"  Before  I  die,"  she  added,  lowering  her  eyes,  "  I  want  your  majesty  to  pardon 
those  two  boxes  on  the  ear  that  this  morning  with  an  over-anxious  zeal " 

"  Enough,"  said  the  king.  **  I  forgive  you.  After  all,  my  throne  and  honor 
are  worth  more  than  I  received." 


I90  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"Alas  ! "  said  Pazza,  "  that  is  not  all." 
"  How?  "  said  the  king,  "  is  there  something  else?" 

«  Sire  ! "  said  the  marchioness, "  what  have  you  done  ?     Look,  my  child  is  dying/ 
"Rouse  yourself,  Pazza!"  cried  the  king.     "  Speak,  and  be  sure  beforehand 
of  my  forgiveness  for  any  thing  you  may  have  done.    Alas !  it  is  not  you  who 
ought  to  sue  for  pardon." 

"  Sire,"  murmured  Pazza,  "  the  doctor,  the  little  doctor,  who  dared  to  give 

your  majesty " 

"  Did  you  send  him  ?  "  asked  the  king,  frowning. 

"  No,  sire,"  she  replied,  "  it  was  I   myself,  who  to  rescue  your  majesty  from 

the  snares  of  a  traitor,  dared  to  apply " 

41  Enough !  enough  !  "  said  Charming.  "  I  forgive  you,  although  the  lesson 
was  rather  severe." 

"  Alas !  that  is  not  all,"  said  Pazza. 

"What,  something  else?"  cried  the  king,  rising 
from  his  seat. 

"  Oh,  aunt!  I  feel  so  ill !  "  said  poor  Pazza. 
By  dint  of  the  tenderest  care  she  recovered  con- 
sciousness, and  turning  her  languid  eyes  to  the  king, 
who  was  very  much  affected — 

"  Sire,"  she  said,  "  the  gipsy  at  the  masked  ball, 

who  dared " 

"Was   that   you,    Pazza?"    returned    Charming. 

"Oh,  I  forgive  you  those  boxes  on  the  ear;  I  thoroughly  deserved  them.  To 
have  doubted  you,  who  are  sincerity  itself !  But  now  I  think  of  it,"  cried  the 
king,  "  do  you  remember  that  rash  vow  you  made  the  evening  of  our  marriage  ? 
Naughty  girl — you  have  kept  your  promise,  it  is  for  me  to  keep  mine.  Pazza, 
make  haste  and  get  well,  and  return  with  me  to  that  palace  from  whence  happi- 
ness departed  with  you." 

"  I  may  have  a  last  favor  to  ask  your  majesty,"  said  Pazza.  "  Rachimburg 
has  been  witness  this  morning  of  a  scene  I  blush  to  remember,  and  of  which 
nobody  ought  to  know  any  thing.  I  recommend  to  your  favor  this  faithful 
servant." 

"  Rachimburg,"  said  the  king,  "  take  this  purse  and  keep  this  secret,  if  thou 
wishest  to  keep  thy  head." 

Rachimburg  kneeled  on  the  ground  beside  the  queen's  bed,  and  kissed  the  hand 
of  his  liege  lady. 


Piff-Paff. 


191 


of  my 


"Your  majesty,"  he  muttered,  "it  is  the  fourth  secret,  and  the  fourth ' 

Then   rising  from   his   knees,   he   said   aloud,   "God  bless  the  hand 
benefactor  !  " 

Some  moments  after  this  touching  scene,  Pazza  was  asleep.    The  king    still 
anxious,  spoke  to  the  marchioness. 

"  My  aunt !"  said  he,  "  do  you  think  she  will  recover?  " 

"Bah !  "  returned  the  old  lady.  "  Joy  can  bring  back  a  woman  from  the  door 
of  the  tomb,  however 
ill  she  may  be.  What 
is  happiness?  Kiss 
the  queen,  my 
nephew,  that  will  do 
her  more  good  than 
all  the  doctors." 

The  king  bent  over 
the  sleeping  queen, 
and  kissed  her  fore- 
head. An  angelic 
smile,  perhaps  caused 
by  a  happy  dream, 
lighted  up  her  pale 
face,  and  the  king 
wept  like  a  child. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


WHERE  IT  IS  SHOWN  THAT  A  WOMAN  OWES  OBEDIENCE  TO  HER  HUSBAND. 

THE  marchioness  was  right  (ladies  are  always  right  when  they  are  over 
sixty).  Fifteen  days  of  happiness  put  Pazza  on  her  feet  again,  and 
allowed  of  her  making  a  triumphal  entry  with  the  king  her  husband.  Her  pale- 
ness, and  the  fact  of  her  arm  being  in  a  sling,  added  still  further  to  her  grace 
and  beauty.  Charming  had  no  eyes  for  any  thing  but  the  queen,  and  the  people 
followed  suit. 

It  took  them  more  than  an  hour  to  reach  the  palace.     The  municipality  of  the 
capital  of  Thistledown  had  erected  no  less  than  three  triumphal  arches — threat- 


J92  Laboulayfs  Fairy  Tales. 

ening  fortresses,  each  one  defended  by  thirty-six  deputations,  and  thirty-six 
speeches.  The  first  arch,  made  of  trelliswork,  and  ornamented  with  flowers  and 
foliage,  bore  this  inscription : 

To  THE  MOST  TENDER  AND  FAITHFUL  OF  HUSBANDS. 

Round  this  were  grouped  five  or  six  thousand  young  girls,  in  white  gowns  and 
pink  ribbons.  They  represented,  so  cooed  these  innocent  doves,  the  springtime 
of  the  year,  the  promise  of  the  future,  which  came  to  greet  Glory  and  Beauty. 

The  second  erection,  more  solidly  built  and  covered  with  tapestry,  bore  on  its 
summit  a  figure  of  Justice  peeping  from  under  her  bandage,  and  holding  her 
scales  unevenly  balanced,  beneath  which  was  written : 

To  THE  FATHER  OF  HIS  PEOPLE. 
To  THE  BEST  AND  WISEST  OF  PRINCES. 

Here  priests,  statesmen,  and  magistrates,  in  robes  of  every  color,  represented 
Religion,  Wisdom,  and  Virtue ;  at  least  that  is  what  these  venerable  gentlemen 
told  the  king,  and  they  surely  ought  to  have  known. 

The  last,  an  immense  arch  made  of  cannons,  was  a  regular  military  trophy,  and 
bore  for  motto  the  following : 

To  THE  BRAVEST  AND  MOST  VALIANT  OF  KINGS. 

Here  it  was  that  the  army  awaited  their  general,  and  here  the  queen  was  greeted 
by  the  majestic  voice  of  a  hundred  cannons  and  two  hundred  drums. 

I  will  spare  you  an  account  of  the  banquet,  which  was  interminable,  and  the 
sixty  other  speeches,  that  were  reported  in  the  Court  Gazette,  where  they  had 
already  appeared  two  or  three  times  before,  and  in  which  they  were  stored  for 
the  use  of  posterity.  Nothing  is  more  monotonous  than  happiness,  and  we  must 
be  indulgent  to  those  whose  duty  it  is  to  laud  it  officially. 

The  interminable  evening  was  over  at  last.  The  king  had  lavished  his  sweetest 
smiles  upon  people  whom  in  his  heart  he  wished  at  Jericho.  At  midnight, 
Charming  conducted  the  queen,  not  this  time  to  the  tower,  but  to  her  own 
beautifully  furnished  apartments.  There  a  surprise  awaited  Pazza.  At  the  end 
of  the  room  was  an  illuminated  transparency,  on  which  the  following  verses  were 
to  be  seen — so  feeble  that  only  a  king  could  have  written  them.  They  were  not 


Piff-Paff.  J93 

published  in  the  official  gazette,  but  have  been  preserved  to  us  by  one  of  those 
silly  gossiping  people  who  will  not  allow  past  follies  to  be  forgotten : 

"  Of  a  box  on  the  ear,  O  ye  idlers  beware  ! 

Who  revel  in  indolent  ease  ; 
Ye  fawners  and  flatterers  servile,  take  care ! 
Grave  doctors  assuming  a  wiseacre  air, 
With  blatant,  grandiloquent  words  and  to  spate, 

Your  ears  shall  be  boxed  if  we  please. 

"  Ye  husbands  ungrateful,  who  think  it  is  grand 

At  love  and  at  goodness  to  jeer, 
Take  heed  lest  your  wives  should  take  it  in  hand 
Themselves  to  avenge,  with  true  pride  at  command—- 
Beware of  a  box  on  the  ear  !  " 

Sire,"  said  Pazza,  "what  does  this  mean?" 
"  It  means  that  I 
know  myself,"  replied 
the  king.  "I  am 
nothing  without  you, 
dear  Pazza.  All  I 
know,  and  every 
thought  I  have,  I  owe 
to  you.  When  you 
are  not  here,  I  am 
only  a  body  without 
a  soul,  and  I  commit  all  sorts  of  follies." 

"Sire,"  rejoined  Pazza,  "your  majesty  must  permit  me  to  contradict  you." 
"  f*ood  gracious!  "  answered  the  king,  "I  am  not  affecting  a  mock  modesty. 
I  am  well  aware  that  I  have  the  strongest  head  among  my  counselors,  and  my 
ministers  themselves  are  forced  to  acknowledge  this.  They  are  always  of  my 
opinion ;  but,  for  all  that,  there  is  more  wisdom  in  your  little  finger  than  in  all 
my  royal  brain.  My  course  is  decided.  Let  my  court  and  my  subjects  extol  my 
wisdom  and  goodness,  and  even  my  valor;  well,  and  good — I  will  accept  their 
homage.  You  alone  have  the  right  to  laugh  at  it,  and  you  will  never  betray  me. 
But  from  this  time  I  hand  over  to  you  my  power.  The  king,  my  dear  Pazza, 
will  only  be  the  first  of  your  subjects,  the  faithful  minister  of  your  wishes.  You 
shall  be  the  composer,  and  I  will  be  the  performer.  The  applause  will  be  fof 
me  according  to  custom,  and  I  will  pay  you  for  it  in  love." 


194  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  My  husband,"  replied  Pazza,  "  pray  do  not  talk  thus." 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,"  returned  the  king,  eagerly.  "  I  want  you  to  take  the 
command,  and  I  intend  nothing  to  be  done  in  my  kingdom  except  according  to 
your  will." 

"  Sire,"  said  Pazza,  "  I  am  your  wife  and  your  servant,  and  it  is  my  duty  to 
obey  you." 

And  then,  says  the  chronicle,  they  lived  happily  ever  after.  They  loved  each 
other  tenderly,  and  had  a  great  many  children ;  and  that  is  how  the  best  stories 
always  end. 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  GARDEN. 


44  ~p\O  you  wish  to  know  of  the  ancient  days,  to  follow  the  course  of  genera. 
J-^  tions  ?  Ask  your  father  ;  he  will  instruct  you  ;  inquire  of  older  people, 
and  they  will  tell  you  tales  of  the  past/' 

If  ever  a  people  remained  true  to  tradition,  it  is  the  Jews,  to  whom  these 
words  were  addressed.  They  have  kept  all  histories  and  legends.  It  is  this 
which  has  made  the  lovers  of  stories  have  a  weakness  for  this  unhappy  race, 
which  has  so  long,  and  so  unjustly,  been  the  sport  of  fate  and  the  refuse  of 
nations.  The  Jews  have  preserved  the  traditions  of  the  East  and  carried  them 
them  to  all  corners  of  the  earth.  Their  spirit  lives  in  us  more  than  we  think. 
One  cannot  tell  how  great  has  been  the  influence  of  these  persecuted  rabbis. 
Their  books  have  been  despised  as  much  as  their  persons.  Nevertheless  we  are 
largely  indebted  to  them.  When  we  read  an  ingenius  argument,  or  a  clear  and 
forcible  allegory,  we  do  not  trouble  ourselves  to  know  how  it  has  come  to  us. 
There  is  an  ingratitude  of  which  we  are  guilty  every  day — for  which  we  feel  little 
remorse. 

As  for  me,  I  love  the  rabbis,  spite  of  their  subtlety.  I  have  read  their  books 
with  pleasure,  and  often  seek  in  them  one  of  those  stories  which  charm  and  rest 
the  mind.  Some  of  them  are  from  the  Spanish.  I  have  known  only  one  man 
who  cared  for  this  sort  of  literature,  and  he  was  a  Jew.  This  man,  Munk,  knew 
the  Bible  by  heart,  and  could  recite  the  book,  chapter  and  verse  where  such  a 
Hebrew  word  was  used  in  such  and  such  a  sense.  Munk  collected  old  books. 
He  recognized  them  by  their  titles,  their  shape,  their  dates.  It  was  to  him  I 
carried  my  collection.  He  would  tell  me  their  importance.  He  knew  all,  but 
there  was  something  more  admirable  in  him  than  his  learning.  This  was  the 
serenity  of  his  spirit  and  the  goodness  of  his  heart.  He  was  at  the  same  time 
an  honor  to  science  and  to  his  race. 


!96  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

It  was  since  the  loss  of  this  man  that,  one  day,  as  I  walked  upon  the  quay, 
according  to  an  old  habit,  I  perceived  at  the  stand  of  a  dealer  in  second-hand 
books,  a  volume  bound  in  parchment  and  very  thin.  The  odd  look  of  the  book 
pleased  me,  and  by  means  of  a  few  sous  I  bought  this  treasure  which,  but  for 
my  curiosity,  might  have  rested  forever  in  the  dust,  where  it  had  no  doubt  been 
reposing  for  a  long  time.  What  then  was  this  precious  little  volume? 

It  was  a  Spanish  book,  translated  into  the  Hebrew,  called  "  The  Government 
of  Life."  "  A  book  of  great  learning  and  of  great  doctrines,"  added  the  author, 
"  in  which  one  can  see,  as  in  a  crystal  mirror,  how  to  correct  all  errors  and  vices, 
and  so  to  pass  through  things  temporal  as  to  merit  attaining  eternal  glory." 

In  this  book  I  have  found  an  allegory  which  has  all  the  solemnity  and  all  the 
dignity  of  Jewish  morals.  I  have  translated  it,  and  I  think  that  it  may  be  read 
with  pleasure.  It  shows  what  ideas  occupied  in  exile  that  race  which  Europe 
despised  without  reason,  and  persecuted  without  pity. 

I  will  let  the  old  rabbi  tell  the  story : 

Our  sages  have  left  us  a  very  ancient  story,  worthy  to  be  forever  remembered. 
They  tell  us  that  once  upon  a  time,  there  was  a  very  powerful  king,  very  wise, 
and  very  just.  This  king  had  sent  out  a  law  in  all  his  kingdom  that  no  one  should 
have  rewards,  employment,  or  honors,  if  they  had  not  merited  them  by  service 
to  king  or  country,  and  the  reward  must  be  according  to  merit. 

In  the  course  of  time  there  were  born  at  the  court  three  children  of  the  blood 
royal.  They  grew  up  rich  in  virtue  and  talent,  handsome,  well-made,  amiable, 
dear  and  esteemed  by  all.  The  king,  who  loved  them,  and  wished  to  give  them 
rank  according  to  their  merit,  said  to  them  one  day  :  "  My  children,  I  wish  to 
give  you  all  the  honors  and  rewards  possible.  I  wish  to  place  you  in  a  higher 
position  than  any  that  is  in  my  palace,  for  you  have  found  favor  in  my  eyes,  and 
I  believe  you  capable  of  all  virtues.  But  every  one  knows,  and  you  know,  that 
there  is  a  law  in  my  kingdom  that  I  cannot  violate.  I  can  confer  neither  honors 
nor  employment  on  any  one  except  in  return  for  services.  It  is  not  then  by  remain- 
ing  at  the  court  that  you  will  gain  the  rank  that  I  destine  for  you.  Go,  then,  I 
advise  you,  travel  round  all  the  kingdom,  and  seek  to  merit  by  your  exploits  the 
reward  the  law  promises,  and  that  I  desire  to  give  you.  You  can  return  to  the 
court  when  I  recall  you.  Until  then,  keep  the  notes  of  all  you  do,  for  according 
to  your  merit  will  the  reward  be." 

The  three  young  men  felt  great  regret  at  quitting  the  court,  but  the  king  had 
spoken,  and  it  was  necessary  to  obey.  All  three  took  leave  of  the  king  and  em. 
barked  one  lovely  day,  leaving  to  chance  the  course  they  should  take. 


The  Mysterious  Garden.  igj» 

They  were  far  from  court  when  they  disembarked  on  an  island  which,  seen 
from  the  sea,  looked  very  fertile  and  charming.  In  the  midst  of  the  island  they 
found  a  beautiful  garden,  full  of  fruit,  but,  when  they  approached  it,  three 
guardians  met  them,  and  while  permitting  them  to  enter,  each  one  gave  a  piece 
of  advice. 

The  first  guardian  said  that  they  must  remember  that  they  could  not  remain 
always  in  this  garden.  A  moment  would  come  when  they  would  be  obliged  to  leave 
it.  All  who  had  preceded  them  had  been  obliged  to  go.  Such  was  the  rule. 
Some  entered,  the  others  left. 

The  second  guardian  told  them  that  they  must  engrave  on  their  memories  the 
fact  that  as  they  entered  so  would  they  leave  the  garden.  They  were  free  to 
enjoy  all  in  the  inclosure;  no  one  would  interfere;  but  in  going  out  they  were 
forbidden  to  carry  any  thing  away. 

The  third  guardian  recommended  them  to  be  moderate  in  their  tastes  and 
their  pleasures,  and  only  to  do  things  good  and  honest,  adding  that  this  conduct 
would  help  much  to  prolong  their  lives. 

After  having  heard  these  sage  counsels  the  three  yoang  people  entered  the 
garden.  It  was  more  rich  and  beautiful  than  they  had  judged  from  a  distance. 
One  found  there  an  abundance  of  trees  loaded  with  fruit,  and  plants  and  flowers 
as  agreeable  to  smell  as  to  see.  The  nightingales  sang  in  the  shade  of  the  great 
oaks,  and  throngs  of  birds  charmed  the  ear  with  their  melodious  concerts.  A 
sound  of  running  water  brought  a  sense  of  freshness  and  life. 

It  is  needless  to  describe  the  joy  of  the  three  friends.  They  ate  the  excellent 
fruits,  they  drank  the  delicious  water,  they  slept  in  the  shade  of  the  thick  trees, 
listening  to  the  nightingales,  while  the  breeze  gently  stirred  the  leaves  and 
brought  to  them  the  penetrating  odor  of  the  flowers. 

At  the  end  of  a  little  time  they  separated.  Each  one  had  chosen  the  side  of 
the  garden  that  pleased  him  best. 

Seduced  by  the  beauty  of  the  fruits  and  the  freshness  of  the  water,  the  first  of 
these  three  youths  thought  only  of  present  pleasure.  To  drink,  eat,  sleep,  lead 
a  joyous  life,  and  want  for  nothing,  such  was  his  only  thought.  He  forgot 
altogether  the  counsels  that  the  three  guardians  had  given  him. 

It  was  neither  the  fruits  nor  the  flowers  that  had  charmed  the  second  young 
man.  He  had  found  in  a  corner  an  abundance  of  gold  and  silver  and  precious 
stones.  Dazzled  by  these  treasures  he  thought  of  nothing  but  amassing  them. 
He  made  as  many  pockets  as  possible  in  his  clothes  to  store  up  his  wealth.  This 
was  his  whole  idea.  He  did  not  eat,  drink,  or  sleep.  As  to  using  the  garden 


198  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

and  its  pleasures,  he  did  not  dream  of  it  for  -a  moment,  forgetting  that  the  second 
guardian  had  said,  that  they  must  enjoy  all  they  found  during  their  stay,  and 
keep  nothing,  for  they  could  carry  nothing  out. 

The  third  young  man  had  engraven  on  his  memory  all  that  the  three  guard- 
ians had  said,  and  he  did  not  do  like  his  companions.  The  course  they  had 
taken  appeared  to  him  evil  and  dangerous.  It  was  not  in  such  ways  that  they 
could  win  their  honors.  This  young  man  then,  used  the  garden  and  its  pleasures, 
but  only  so  far  as  was  necessary  to  sustain  life.  He  employed  his  time  in  study- 
ing the  place  and  all  in  it.  In  examining  these  fruits  and  flowers,  these  animals 
in  their  wonderful  variety,  in  rinding  out  the  properties  of  each  plant,  he  admired 
the  perpetual  miracle  of  nature.  In  following  the  course  of  the  waters  so  well 
distributed  by  degrees  from  sod  to  sod  so  that  every  plant  would  be  watered,  he 
could  not  but  admire  the  wonderful  order  which  put  every  thing  in  its  place. 

What  added  to  his  astonishment  was  that  in  this  garden  so  well  ordered  there 
was  no  gardener  ever  seen.  But  reflection  taught  him  that  such  perfect  order 
could  not  be  by  accident,  and  that  there  was  certainly  a  very  wise  gardener,  an 
invisible  master  who  governed  this  beautiful  domain.  Each  day  added  to  his 
admiration,  and  each  day  added  to  his  desire  to  know  the  master  of  the  garden. 
He  sought  him  every-where,  and  without  having  seen  him,  he  loved  him  for  giving 
him  the  pleasure  of  the  sight  and  study  of  such  wonders. 

While  each  one  of  the  three  young  people  governed  themselves  in  perfect 
liberty,  there  came  a  messenger  from  the  king  who  gave  them  an  order  to  return 
at  once  to  the  court  to  render  an  account  of  their  lives.  Each  one  set  out  and 
reached  the  gate  by  which  they  had  entered.  But  the  first  of  these  young  men, 
who  had  dreamed  only  of  enjoyment,  felt  himself  affected  by  the  change  of  air, 
and  not  having  the  fruit  of  the  garden  to  sustain  him,  his  strength  left  him  and 
he  fell  on  the  earth  and  died. 

The  second  one  went  with  slow  steps  loaded  like  a  mule.  The  hope  of  one 
day  enjoying  his  silver  made  him  forget  fatigue.  But  when  he  arrived  at  the 
gate  the  guardians,  astonished  at  seeing  his  heavy  steps,  seized  him  and  took  all 
from  him  in  an  instant.  The  unhappy  one  began  to  groan  and  weep.  All  his 
work,  all  his  pains  had  only  brought  him  misery  and  despair.  On  hearing  the 
voice  of  the  messenger  who  called  him  by  the  order  of  the  king,  the  third  felt  a 
lively  joy.  He  would  without  doubt  see  this  master  whom  he  had  sought  ere  he 
left  the  garden.  He  could  at  last  show  his  gratitude  and  love.  For  the  rest  he 
had  never  offended  him,  far  from  that ;  he  had  done  all  to  recognize  his  will  and 
obey  it.  It  was  with  a  heart  full  of  hope,  and  carrying  nothing  with  him,  that 


The  Mysterious  Garden.  199 

this  young  man  hastened  to  the  gate  of  the  garden.  He  was  well  received  by 
the  guardians,  happy  to  see  with  what  zeal  he  obeyed  the  orders  of  the  king. 

In  approaching  the  court,  the  one  who  had  been  despoiled  of  his  treasures 
was  so  fatigued  and  miserable  that  he  could  not  keep  on  his  feet.  In  vain  he 
cried  out  that  he  was  of  royal  blood.  No  one  put  faith  in  his  words.  More  than 
this  the  slaves  of  the  court,  indignant  that  such  a  beggar  dared  to  claim  relation- 
ship with  the  king,  shut  the  gates  of  the  palace  and  threw  him  into  a  prison  cell 
where  he  had  time  to  expiate  his  faults  and  weep  for  his  folly. 

His  companion  was  well  received.  All  the  great  ones  of  the  court  ran  to  meet 
him,  and  embrace  him,  and  to  do  him  honor  they  accompanied  him  to  the  hall 
where  the  king  waited.  The  king  was  rejoiced  at  seeing  the  young  man  so  calm 
and  happy,  and  although  he  knew  every  thing,  he  asked  the  newcomer  what  he 
had  done  since  he  had  been  gone. 

The  young  man  related  to  the  king  all  that  he  had  remarked  of  beauty  and 
grandeur  in  the  delicious  garden  where  he  had  lived,  and  he  added  :  "  I  am  sure 
now  that  this  garden  has  a  very  wise  master.  This  master  cannot  be  far,  though 
he  took  pleasure  in  concealing  himself,  and  all  my  desire  is  to  show  him  the 
thankfulness  and  love  that  a  sight  of  his  works  inspire." 

Then  the  king  said  to  him  :  "  Since  you  have  employed  your  life  so  well,  I 
will  grant  your  desire.  It  is  I  who  am  the  master  of  this  garden.  It  is  I  who 
govern  it  from  here  by  my  ministers.  There  is  no  beast  so  little,  no  plant  so 
humble,  that  it  has  not  a  servant  to  take  care  of  it  and  make  it  grow." 

In  comprehending  this  mystery  and  hearing  these  words  the  happy  being  felt 
the  love  he  bore  this  master  grow  greater.  He  tasted  an  infinite  joy  in  knowing 
him,  and  lived  on  at  the  court  with  all  the  honors  he  merited. 

MORAL. 

"  The  meaning  of  this  history,"  said  the  old  rabbi,  "  is  easy  to  learn.  The 
king  is  the  Supreme  Creator  and  Sovereign  Governor  of  all  things.  The  garden 
is  the  world.  The  three  young  men  represent  the  three  kinds  of  men  that  are 
here.  The  one  seeks  only  pleasure,  the  other  chases  fortune,  the  third  loves  only 
goodness,  which  is  the  true  aim  of  man.  That  these  three  young  men  were  of  the 
blood  royal,  means  that  they  were  Israelites,  the  people  chosen  of  God.  As  to 
the  counsels  of  the  three  guardians,  we  know  they  are  true.  The  first  counsel 
is  the  word  God  spoke  to  Adam  :  '  Dust  thou  art,  and  to  dust  shalt  thou  return.' 
The  second  is  the  word  of  Job :  '  Naked  was  I  when  I  left  my  mother's  wornt* 


200 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


and  naked  shall  I  return  to  it  again.'  The  third  is  in  the  great  words  of  Moses, 
our  master  in  Israel,  named  by  God  :  '  To-day  I  have  placed  before  you  life  and 
the  good  way,  also  death  and  the  evil  way.  Choose  life  that  ye  may  live,  ye 
and  your  posterity.'  Is  not  that  to  say  that  life  consists  in  doing  right,  and 
death  in  doing  evil  ? 


"  Whoever  weighs  these  three  counsels  and  keeps  them  in  his  memory  cannot 
deceive  himself  about  the  true  word.  He  will  find  the  way  that  will  lead  him 
through  this  life  to  supreme  bliss.  Keep  this  example  before  you  as  a  mirror, 
And  now  may  God,  in  his  infinite  pity,  give  you  grace  to  serve  Him.  For  so 
only  can  you  obtain  peace  in  this  life  and  glory  in  the  other.  Amen  ! " 


BOHEMIAN  STORIES 

OR, 
A  FRENCHMAN'S  VISIT  TO   PRAGUE. 


TV  /T  ONSIEUR,"  said  a  waiter,  entering  my  room  with  the  dignity  of  a 
IV JL  notary  in  a  play,  a  pen  behind  his  ear,  an  inkstand  in  his  hand,  and 
the  visitors'  book  under  his  arm  ;  "  would  monsieur  have  the  goodness  to  write 
his  name  in  the  visitors'  book?  There,  monsieur,"  he  added,  opening  the  book 
and  pointing  to  a  page  ruled  with  black  lines.  "  If  monsieur  would  just  enter 
his  surname  and  Christian  name,  his  age,  domicile,  the  date  of  his  passport  and 
the  last  time  it  was  visfd,  his  profession,  whether  married  or  single,  his  re- 
ligion  " 

"  Upon  my  word,"  I  broke  in,  "  people  are  astonishingly  curious  in  Prague.  I 
have  traveled  a  great  deal,  but  never  have  I  been  asked  such  a  string  of  ques- 
tions." 

"  Monsieur  is  in  Austria,"  said  the  waiter,  winking  one  eye,  "  and  in  this 
country  people  are  very  fond  of  statistics." 

I  took  the  pen  reluctantly  enough.  After  having  filled  the  six  first  columns, 
I  noticed  that  the  traveler  who  had  written  at  the  top  of  the  page  had  declared 
himself  private  gentleman,  married,  and  a  Catholic  ;  and  below  these  three  words 
all  the  later  writers  had  written,  one  after  the  other,  ditto,  ditto,  ditto.  No  doubt 
it  was  the  correct  thing  in  Austria,  and  I  thought  I  could  not  do  better  than 
follow  their  example. 

The  waiter  bent  over  the  book  and  read  my  name  with  an  attention  that  quite 
touched  me.  He  carried  his  finger  along  each  column,  thought  a  moment, 
scratched  his  ear,  and,  winking  with  a  would-be  Mephistophelian  expression, 
said— 


202  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  Monsieur  the  professor  wishes  to  remain  incognito  ?  " 

•'  To  remain  incognito  it  is  necessary  to  be  some  one  that  is  known,"  I 
answered,  rather  surprised  at  being  addressed  by  the  title  of  "professor"  in 
Bohemia.  "  You  take  me  for  some  one  else." 

"  What !  "  cried  the  waiter,  "  have  I  not  the  honor  of  speaking  to  Professor  L., 
of  Paris,  whom  we  have  been  expecting  for  the  last  three  days  ?  " 

"  Better  and  better !  You  must  be  the  devil,  my  good  friend,  if  you  are  not 
the  head  of  the  Austrian  statistical  office." 

"  No,  indeed,  monsieur,"  he  answered,  with  the  mock  humility  of  a  man  flat- 
tered by  the  mistake.     "  For  the  last  three  days  there  has  been  a  letter  lying 
here  addressed  to  monsieur  the  professor.     I  will  bring 
it  up  at  once."     Whereupon  he  bowed,   winking  for 
the  third  time.     No  doubt  it  was  his  idea  of  wit. 

A  letter !  In  Paris  a  man  does  not  excite  himself 
about  a  letter,  but  in  a  foreign  country  to  receive  one 
is  a  piece  of  luck.  Away  from  home  we  think  of  those 
we  love,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  find  that  we  are  not  for- 
gotten. 

The  letter  was  not  from  France,  but  from  Germany, 
and  came  from  my  dear  old  friend,  Doctor  Wolfgang 
Gottlob,  Professor  of  Philology  at  the  University  ot 
Heidelberg,  who,  to  console  himself  for  having  missed 
my  visit,  wrote  to  me  as  follows,  in  most  Ciceronian 
Latin : 

"  LAUS  DEO  PROF.  S.  D.  BETULEIO,  PROF. 

"  S.  V.  B.  E.  E.  Q.  V.     Te  in  Bohemiam  salvum  venisse,  et  quietum  tandem 

Pragaad  signum  Coerulei  Sideris  (vulgo,  'zum  blauen  Sterne),  consedisse,  vehe- 

menter  exopto.     Me  absentum  fuisse  Heidelberga,  meo  tempore  pernecessario, 

bmoleste  fero  ;  hoc  me  tamen  consolor  ;  te  brevi  ad  hanc  germanicam  musarum 

arcem  rediturum  sodales  nostri   una  voce    renuntiant.     Accipe    interea    hanc' 

hospitalem   tesseram,  quam   non  minus   tibi  quam   discipulo   et   amico  nostro 

>tephano  Strjbrskyo,  jucundam  fore  spero.      Tuas  etiam    Pragenses    expecto 

eras,  ut,  sicut  ait  Tullius  noster,  habeam  rationem  non  modo  negotii,  verum 

etiam  otii  tui.     Nee  enim  te  fugit  aureum  Socratis  dictum:     JU£*«rf? 

Gamut  valeas,  et  ut  sciam  quando  cogites  Heidelbergam.     Etiam  atque  etiam 


Bohemian  Stories.  2O" 

I  take  the  liberty  of  translating  this  epistle  for  those  of  my  young  lady  readers 
,vho  have  not  studied  classics  with  their  brothers : 

"  PROFESSOR  GOTTLOB  to  PROFESSOR  L.  sends  greeting. 

"  If  you  are  in  good  health,  it  is  well ;  I  myself  am  in  good  health.  I  earn- 
estly trust  that  you  have  safely  reached  Bohemia,  and  are  at  last  peacefully 
settled  in  Prague  at  the  '  Blue  Star.'  I  regret  very  much  that  I  was  absent  from 
Heidelberg  when  my  presence  there  might  have  been  of  use  to  you ;  this,  how- 
ever, consoles  me,  that  our  colleagues  announce  with  one  accord  that  you  are 
shortly  about  to  return  to  this  capital  of  the  Germanic  muses.  Meanwhile 
accept  this  '  tessara  hospitalisf  which  I  trust  will  give  pleasure  both  to  you  and 
to  my  friend  and  disciple  Stephan  Strjbrsky.  I  am  expecting  to  receive  a  letter 
from  you  at  Prague,  that  I  may  have,  as  Cicero  saith,  the  account  not  only  of 
your  business  but  of  your  pleasures.  You  have  not  forgotten  the  golden  saying 
of  Socrates  :  '  Between  friends  every  thing  is  common  property.'  Take  care  of 
your  health,  and  let  me  hear  when  you  are  coming  to  Heidelberg.  Farewell, 
and  again  farewell !  " 

The  tessara  hospitalis,  which  I  put  into  my  letter-case,  was  -his  visiting  card, 
on  which  the  worthy  Wolfgang  Gottlob  had  written  :  "  To  his  beloved  pupil, 
Dr.  Stephan  Strjbrsky,  Kolowrat  Strasse,  719,  Dr.  Wolfgang  Gottlob,  Rector, 
recommends,  as  a  friend  and  brother,  Professor  L.,  of  Paris." 

Oh,  pleasant  German  hospitality  and  sacred  brotherhood  of  study,  that  have 
so  often  procured  me  a  welcome  when  abroad,  how  much  I  owe  to  you  !  If  my 
travels  have  not  made  me  as  wise  and  virtuous  as  the  prudent  Ulysses,  at  least 
they  have  widened  my  horizon  and  enlarged  my  sympathies,  and  taught  me  that 
the  beneficent  hand  of  God  has  scattered  throughout  the  whole  world  marvels 
for  me  to  admire  and  men  for  me  to  love. 

Cheered  by  this  kind  letter,  I  set  off  to  explore  the  city  of  Prague  with  all 
the  ardor  of  those  inexperienced  travelers  who  mistake  fatigue  for  pleasure. 
With  my  Murray  in  hand  (the  only  authority  that  the  English  admit  to  be 
infallible),  I  hastened  to  the  old  bridge  over  the  Moldau.  I  gazed  at  the  place 
where  John  of  Nepomuk,  the  great  saint,  was  cast  into  the  stream,  preferring 
rather  to  die  than  betray  to  the  jealous  king,  her  husband,  the  confession  of  his 
royal  penitent.  I  ascended  the  Radschin  and  lingered  in  spirit  over  the  memo- 
ries of  the  past,  and  visited  the  church,  with  its  tombs,  relics,  and  treasures. 
Returning  to  the  town,  my  curiosity  allowed  nothing  to  escape  me  there.  I  saw 


204 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tiles. 


I 


not  only  the  Clementinum  and  the  Carolinum,  but  the  Museum  and  the  old 
Jewish  burying-ground  also.  At  last,  at  two  o'clock,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  place,  instead  of  dining  at  the  hotel,  I  dined  in  the  open  air  on  the  Sophien 
island,  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  capital  band  and  among  flowers.  That 
nothing  should  be  lacking  to  enhance  the  pleasures  of  this  mad  day,  I  went  to 
the  Schutzeninsel  by  the  suspension-bridge,  not  liking  to  visit  the  country  of 
Freischutz  without  firing  off  a  gun.  There  I  discovered  by  personal  experience 
that  I  could  safely  go  to  the  wars  without  any  fears  of  my  breaking  the  Sixth 
Commandment.  At  ten  paces  I  should  miss  a  battalion ;  at  least,  unless  I  should 
do  as  poor  Max  did,  and  sell  my  soul  to  the  devil.  But  that  is  too  high  a  price 
for  an  old  philosopher  like  me  to  pay,  and  I  leave  it  to  lovers. 

The  sun  was  sinking,  and  the  peaceful  waters  of  the  Moldau  were  reddened  by 
its  parting  rays,  when,  tired  of  having  seen  nothing  all  day 
long  but  buildings,  painted  windows,  and  pictures,  I 
thought  it  would  be  a  pleasant  change  to  see  the  face  of  a 
/>  friend.  The  Kolowrat  Strasse  was  not  far  off,  so  I  hastened 
there  and  soon  found  number  719.  It  was  an  unpretentious 
house,  with  a  low  doorway  surmounted  by  a  lion's  face.  I 
knocked,  but  received  no  answer ;  I  knocked  a  second  time, 
and  heard  a  man's  voice  within. 

"  Nanynka !  "   cried  this  voice,  in  Bohemian,  "  Nanynka, 
nekdo  klepa  na  dwere." 

"  Good   heavens  !  "    I  thought  to  myself,   "  is  it  possible 
that  I  know  Bohemian  without  having  learned  it  ?    '  Klepa  * 
is  the  German  « klopfen,'  to  knock  1  '  dwere '  is  the  door. 
What  an  advantage  it  is  to  one  to  study  philology?" 

"  Dobre  gitro,  pane,"  '  said  gruffly  to  me  a  tall  girl  in  a  green  petticoat  and 
red  jacket,  as  she  opened  the  door.  This  was  Nanynka,  who  with  a  word  dis- 
pelled my  science  and  my  dream.  "  Dobre  gitro  "  was  Greek  to  me. 

I  asked  her  in  German  if  her  master  was  at  home,  but  she  burst  out  laughing. 
I  took  out  of  my  card-case  the  tessera  hospitalis  and  tried  to  read  the  name  of  my 
host,  but  in  vain  ;  Nanynka  only  laughed  the  more.  In  despair  I  handed  her 
the  confounded  card,  repeating—"  Sstepan  !  Sstepan  !  "  Nanynka  went  on 
laughing  so  loudly,  that  though  I  was  angry  at  first,  I  too  began  to  laugh. 
Fortunately  the  voice  within  came  to  my  assistance  by  calling  "  Nanynka." 

1  Good  day.  sir. 


Bohemian  Ste~ies. 


205 


The  tall  girl  made  me  a  sign  to  enter  and  taking  the  card  slv;  went  up  the  little 
staircase,  repeating — 

"  Niemec,  pane,  niemec,"1  two  words  which  completely  puzzled  me, 

A  moment  afterward  Stephan  wrung  my  hand.  He  had  fair  hair  tossed  back 
from  the  forehead,  and  clear  blue  eyes  ;  his  nose  and  mustache  both  pointed 
upward,  and  he  had  one  of  those  frank,  loyal  faces  that  charm  one  at  first  sight. 

"  How  happy  I  am  to  receive  you  into  my  house  !  "  said  he.  "  How  sorry  I 
am  not  to  be  able  to  speak  French !  but  it  does  not  matter,  as  you  talk  German  ; 
and  we  can  abuse  those  abominable  Teutons  in  their  own  language.  How  good 
of  my  old  master  to  think  of  me !  Come  in,  and  let  me  introduce  you  to  my 
family — my  grandmother  and  my  sister." 

At  the  further  end  of  the  dark  parlor,  hardly  lighted  by  the  last  rays  of  the 
sun,  sat  the  grandmother  turning  her  spinning- 
wheel,  and  facing  her,  a  young  girl  at  the  piano 
was  singing  a  national  air,  but  she  broke  off  when 
she  heard  our  footsteps. 

"  Dear  mother,"  said  Stephan,  "let  me  intro- 
duce to  you  a  French  gentleman,  a  friend  of 
Professor  Gottlob.  Doctor,  my  sister,  Kathinka." 

Acquaintance  was  quickly  made,  and  all  four  of 
us  were  soon  chatting  quietly  and  comfortably 
like  old  friends.  When  I  say  quietly,  I  do  not 
speak  of  the  comings  and  goings  cf  the  tall 
Nanynka,  nor  of  the  mysterious  signs  which  she 
made,  nor  of  her  whispers  to  her  young  mistress, 
nor  of  the  keys  that  jingled  in  her  hand.  In  the 

language  of  hospitality  all  this  means,  "  Providence  has  sent  us  a  guest :  let  us 
keep  up  the  honor  of  the  house." 

During  this  innocent  plotting  the  conversation  flowed  on  ;  but  whatever  sub. 
ject  I  started,  Stephan,  by  an  irresistible  attraction,  always  reverted  to  his  praises 
of  Bohemia,  and  to  tirades  agauist  the  Germans.  He  belonged  to  that  class  of 
minds  so  well  described  by  Hazlitt  as  f.he  "genus  organ-grinder  ;"  very  amiable 
people  otherwise,  but  they  always  grind  the  same  idea,  and  never  sing  but  one 
tune. 

"  Give  me  your  hand,"  he  said.     "The  Slaves  and   French  are  brothers.     If 


1  A  German,  sir,  a  German. 


206 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


fate  had  not  planted  these  cold  Germans  between  us,  Europe  would  long  ago 
have  formed  but  one  country.  We  Czechs,  if  we  have  replaced  the  old  Kelts  of 
Bohemia,  have  at  least  retained  their  genius,  courage,  and  love  of  liberty.  Have 
you  seen  at  the  Radschin  the  Diet  Chamber,  the  Landtagstube,  and  the  window, 
eighty  feet  from  the  ground,  out  of  which  our  fathers  threw  those  who  had  coun- 
seled the  imperial  tyranny  ?  That  is  called  the  Bohemian  custom,  and  that  manner 
of  voting  had  its  advantages,  whatever  people  may  say.  The  window  is  there  still, 
and  you  may  see  others  no  less  celebrated  at  the  town-hall.  All  our  political 
enemies  have  traveled  by  that  road.  We  Bohemians  may  be  put  to  death,  but 
we  never  yield.  The  blood  of  Nepomuk,  and  Huss,and  Ziska  flows  in  our  veins!" 
When  I  travel  abroad  I  do  not  at  all  like  talking  politics,  for  the  rules  of  hospi- 
tality impose  on  one 
great  reserve  ;  so  I  tried 
to  lead  Stephan  to  the 
subject  of  France,  but  I 
could  not  have  started 
a  more  unlucky  topic  of 
conversation. 

"  Formerly,"  said  he, 
"  our  fathers  fought  side 
by  side.  At  the  battle 
of  Cr£cy,  that  old  blind 
king  who,  supported 
by  two  squires,  fell  upon 
the  English  and  died 

Jikea  hero,  was  a  Bohemian;  it  was  our  king,  John  of  Luxemburg!  I  am 
sure  that  in  France,  the  land  of  the  brave,  he  has  not  been  forgotten.  Who 
knows  if  the  alliance  will  not  be  cemented  again,  and  against  the  English,  too?" 
This  gave  me  an  opportunity  for  attempting  a  diversion,  and  I  spoke  about 
the  Czech  or  Bohemian  language,  and  of  the  relationship  between  all  the  Indo- 
European  tongues.  Ayran  grammar  seemed  a  neutral  ground  where  we  should 
be  safe  from  all  discord.  Neither  of  us  being  philologists,  there  was  no  reason 
for  our  tearing  each  other's  hair  ;  but  I  was  mistaken.  Scarcely  had  the  subject 
been  started,  than  Stephan  burst  out  laughing. 

"One  moment,"  said  he  ;  "that  reminds  me  of  a  good  story  of  the  Emperor 
Sigismund,  who,  notwithstanding  his  vices  and  follies,  still  possessed  the  national 
spirit.  At  the  Council  of  Constance  he  began  a  fine  harangue  in  imperial  Latin: 


Bohemian  Stories. 


207 


'  Videte  patres?  he  said,  to  the  fathers  at  the  council,  '  ut  eradicetis  schismam 
Hussitarum.'  Whereupon  a  monk  of  our  country,  bold  and  frank  like  a  Bohe 
mian,  rose  up  and  said  to  him  :  '  Serenissime  rex,  schisma  est  generis  neutri.' 
'  And  how  do  you  know  that  ? '  asked  Sigismund,  reverting  to  his  native  tongue. 
'  Alexander  Gallus  says  so,'  answered  the  monk.  '  And  who  is  Alexander 
Gallus?'  'A  monk/  returned  our  shaven  pedant.  'Here  is  a  nice  fellow!' 
exclaimed  Sigismund.  '  I  am  emperor  of  Rome  and  my  word,  I  believe,  is 
worth  quite  as  much  as  a  monk's.'  And  the  Council  laughed,  while  he  burned 
our  martyr.  Is  not  that  a  specimen  of  the  French  spirit?  " 

"  Completely  ;  but  tell  me  about  your  literature  ?  "  I  said.  "  I  hear  that  Schaf- 
ferik  and  Palacky  have  r~vived  old  traditions,  and  re-animated  national  sentiment." 

"  They  are  not  the  only  ones,"  replied 
Stephan.  "  I  hope  that  we  shall  soon 
put  into  force  again  the  famous  law  of 
Matthias,  who  drove  from  the  country  as 
a  traitor  and  confiscated  the  property  of 
every  one  who  did  not  speak  Bohemian." 

"  That  was  pushing  the  love  of  phi- 
lology a  little  too  far,"  I  replied. 

"  But    think,"    returned  he,  "  what   an 
admirable    language      and    literature  we 
have.     Sons  of  the  East,  we  have  brought 
thence  with  us  its  treasures  ;  legends,  tales,  and  poetry  are  our  forte,  and  like- 
wise music.     The  Germans  only  steal  from  us." 

"  Have  you  any  stories  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Ask  my  grandmother,"  he  replied  ;  "she  could  tell  you  them  until  to-mor- 
row morning.  We  have  collected  them ;  Kulda,  Maly,  Daxner,  and  Madame 
Niemec  have  published  them  ;  and  Wenzig  has  translated  them  into  German. 
I  will  lend  you  his  book  if  you  like." 

"  I  would  rather  listen  to  you,"  I  rejoined ;  "  a  story  in  a  book  is  like  a 
dryed  flower,  but  told  by  word  of  mouth  it  is  a  flower  growing  with  all  its 
natural  grace  and  freshness." 

"  Very  good,"  said  he,  "  I  will  try  to  satisfy  you.  My  grandmother  and 
Kathinka  will  do  as  much  for  their  part ;  and  when  you  return  to  France  you 
can  tell  the  French  these  stories  of  their  friends  the  Bohemians.  I  will  begin 
with  a  student's  story,  which  has  for  its  title:  'Are  you  not  satisfied  ?  or,  The 
Tale  of  the  Noses.'  " 


208 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


A 


ARE  YOU   NOT  SATISFIED  ?   OR,  THE   TALE   OF  THE  NOSES. 

IT  Dewitz,  in  the  suburbs  of  Prague,  there  was  once  upon  a  time  a  rich  and 
eccentric  farmer,  with  a  pretty  daughter,  whom  he  greatly  wished  to  see 

married.     The  students   at  Prague,  who  at 

that  time  numbered  five  and  twenty  thou- 
sand, often  went  to  Dewitz,  and  many 
would  gladly  have  driven  a  plow  to  become 
the  farmer's  son-in-law.  But  how  could  it 
be  managed  ?  The  first  condition  that  the 
cunning  peasant  imposed  upon  each  new 
farm-servant  that  came  to  him  was  this :  "  I 
engage  you  for  a  year,  that  is  to  say,  until 
the  cuckoo  again  announces  the  return  of 
spring :  if  between  now  and  then  you  once  tell 
me  that  you  are  not  satisfied,  I  will  cut  off 
the  end  of  your  nose.  For  the  rest,"  he 
added  laughing,  "I  will  give  you  the  same 
right  over  my  nose."  He  kept  his  word, 
and  Prague  was  filled  with  students  the  ends 
of  whose  noses  had  been  cut  off  and  stuck 
on  again.  This,  of  course,  did  not  prevent 
them  from  being  scarred  and  caused  endless 
jokes  at  the  sufferers'  expense.  To  return  from 
Dewitz  disfigured  and  ridiculous  was  enough 
to  cool  their  ardor. 

A  certain  young  man  named  Coranda, 
rather  heavy-looking,  but  cool,  sharp,  and 
knowing,  which  is  not  a  bad  combination  of 
qualities  for  making  a  fortune,  was  anxious 
to  try  his  luck.  The  farmer  received  him 
with  his  ordinary  good-nature,  and  the  usual  bargain  being  concluded,  sent  him 
to  work  in  his  fields.  At  breakfast-time  the  other  farm-laborers  "were  called 


Bohemian  Stories. 


209 


but  our  friend  was  carefully  overlooked,  and  at  dinner  the  same  thing  happened 
again.  Corando  did  not  put  himself  out,  however ;  he  returned  to  the  house, 
and  while  the  farmer's  wife  was  feeding  the  fowls,  unhooked  an  enormous  ham 
from  the  kitchen  rafters,  took  a  great  loaf  from  the  cupboard,  and  went  off  to 
the  fields  afterward  to  dine  and  have  a  nap. 

When  he  came  home  in  the  evening,  the 
farmer  called  out  to  him — 

"  Are  you  not  satisfied  ?  " 

"  Quite  satisfied,"  replied  Coranda.  "  I  have 
dined  better  than  you  have." 

Hereupon  the  farmer's  wife  came  running 
toward  them,  crying  out,  "  Thief !  thief ! "  and 
our  friend  laughed,  while  the  farmer  grew  pale. 

"Arej/0#  not  satisfied?"  said  Coranda. 

''A  ham  is  only  a  ham,"  returned  the  master. 
"I  do  not  vex  myself  about  a  trifle." 

But  after  that  they  took  care  not  to  leave  our 
student  fasting. 

When  Sunday  came  the  farmer  and  his  wife 
drove  to  church  in  a  cart  ;  and  said  to  the  new 
farm-servant  before  they  started — 

"You  will  see  after  the  dinner.  Put  that 
piece  of  meat  into  the  pot,  and  add  some 
onions,  carrots,  and  parsley." 

"  All  right,"  said  Coranda. 

Now  there  was  a  charming  little  dog  at  the 
farm  called  Parsley  ;  Coranda  killed  it,  skinned 
it,  and  boiled  it  in  the  broth.  When  the 
farmer's  wife  returned,  she  called  her  favorite ; 
but,  alas  !  she  only  found  its  skin  hanging  in  the 
window. 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  "  she  asked  Coranda. 

"  What  you  ordered  me,  mistress.    I  have  put  onions,  carrots,  and  Parsley  into 
the  pot,"  he  said. 

"  Malicious  fool ! "  cried  the  farmer.     "  Have  you  had  the  heart  to  kill  that 
little  innocent  creature,  which  was  the  pet  of  the  house  ?  " 

"  Are  you  not  satisfied  ?  "  said  Coranda,  drawing  his  knife  from  his  pocket. 


f  IO  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

«  I  do  not  say  so,"  replied  the  good  man,  sighing.     «  A  dead  dog  is  only  a 


later  the  farmer  and   his  wife  went  to  market.    As   they  mis- 
trusted  their  terrible  servant,  they  said  to  him— 

"  You  are  to  remain  in  the  house.     Do  nothing  out  of  your  own  head,  but  do 
exactly  what  the  others  do." 
•-     "All  right!"  rejoined  Coranda. 

Now  there  was  an  old  shed  in  the  yard,  the  roof  of  which  threatened  1 
in.    While  the  farmer  and  his  wife  were  away,  some  masons  came  to  repair  it, 

and,  according  to  their 
wont,  began  by  demol- 
ishing it.  Lo  and  be^ 
hold!  Coranda  took  a 
ladder,  mounted  upon 
the  roof  of  the  farm- 
house, which  was  quite 
new,  and  scattered  to 
the  winds  shingles, 
rafters,  nails,  cramp- 
irons,  and  all. 

When  the  farmer  re- 
turned the  house  was 
roofless. 

"Fellow,"    he    ex- 
claimed, "what  new  trick  is  this  you  have  played  me?" 

"  I  obeyed  you,  master,  for  you  told  me  to  do  as  the  others  did.  Are  you  not 
satisfied  ?  "  replied  Coranda,  drawing  his  knife. 

"  Satisfied,"  said  the  farmer,  "  satisfied,  why  should  I  be  dissatisfied  ?  Some 
laths  more  or  less  will  not  ruin  me,"  he  added  with  a  sigh. 

That  evening  the  farmer  and  his  wife  said  to  each  other  that  it  was  high  time 
to  get  rid  of  this  incarnate  fiend.  As  they  were  sensible  people,  they  never  did 
any  thing  without  consulting  their  daughter,  it  being  customary  in  Bohemia  for 
children  to  have  more  wit  than  their  parents. 

"Father,"  said  Helen,  "  I  will  hide  myself  very  early  to-morrow  morning  in 
the  big  pear-tree,  and  I  will  imitate  the  cuckoo.  You  will  say  to  Coranda  that 
the  year  is  passed,  since  the  cuckoo  is  singing;  then  you  can  pay  him  and  send 
him  off." 


Bohemian  Stories. 


211 


No  sooner  said  than  done.  From  early  morning  was  heard  the  plaintive  cry 
of  the  herald  of  spring,  "  Cuckoo,  cuckoo  ! " 

No  one  could  have  appeared  more  surprised  than  the  farmer. 

*  Now  then,  my  boy,"  he  said  to  Coranda,  "  here  is  spring  come  back  again. 
The  cuckoo  is  singing  in  the  pear-tree  down  there.  Come,  and  I  will  pay  yoti 
your  wages,  and  we  will  separate  good  friends.** 

"  A  cuckoo  ! "  returned  Coranda.  "  I  have  never  seen  that  bird,"  and  running 
to  the  tree  he  shook  it  with  all  his  might,  when,  lo !  a  young  girl  fell  from  the 
tree,  who  fortunately  was  more  frightened  than  hurt. 

"Villain?"  cried  the  farmer. 

"  Are  you  not  satisfied  ?  "  asked  Coranda,  drawing 
his  knife. 

"  Wretch  !  you  kill  my  daughter,  and  you  ask  me  if  I 
am  satisfied.  I  am  mad  with  anger.  Go,  if  you  do  not 
wish  to  perish  by  my  hand.' 

"  I  will  not  go  until  I  have  cut  off  your  nose,"  said 
Coranda.  "  I  have  kept  my  word,  now  it  is  for  you  to 
keep  yours." 

"  Hold,"  cried  the  farmer,  putting  his  hand  before 
his  face.  "  Will  you  let  me  ransom  my  nose  ?  " 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Coranda. 

"  Will  you  have  ten  sheep  ?  "  offered  the  farmer. 

"No,"  replied  Coranda. 

"  Two  oxen  ?  "  said  the  farmer. 

"  No,"  repeated  the  student. 

"Ten  cows?" 

"  No,  I  prefer  to  cut  off  your  nose,'*  said  Coranda, 
sharpening  his  knife  on  the  doorstep  of  the  house. 

"  Father,"  said  Helen,  "  it  was  my  fault,  and  I  will  re- 
pair it.  Coranda,  will  you  accept  my  hand  instead  of 
my  father's  nose?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Coranda. 

"  I  only  make  one  condition,"  added  the  young  girl.  "The  first  of  us  who  is 
not  satisfied  with  our  wedded  life  is  to  have  his  or  her  nose  cut  off." 

"  Very  good,"  returned  Coranda.  "  I  should  have  preferred  that  it  should  be 
the  tongue  ;  but  we  can  come  to  that  after  the  nose." 

Never  was  a  grander  wedding  at  Dewitz,  and  never  a  happier  home.     Coranda 


212 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


both  their  mutual  love  and  their  noses. 


II 


THE   GOLDEN   LOAF. 

A/OUR   story  is  brutal,  my  son,"   said  the  grandmother,  "and  it  is   a 
I       student's  tale,  not  a  true  story.     The  stories  that  my  mother  used  to 

tell  me  in  my  child- 
hood were  far  more 
graceful  and  poetic, 
besides  being  truer." 
"  Tell  us  your 
stories,  grandmother? 
we  are  all  attention," 
cried  Stephan. 

The  old  lady 
stopped  her  spinning- 
wheel,  raised  her  dis- 
taff, and  lifting  a 
trembling  hand,  told 
us  the  story  of 

THE  GOLDEN  LOAF. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  widow  who  had  a  most  beautiful  daughter.  The 
mother  was  humble  and  modest,  but  the  daughter  was  pride  itself.  Suitors 
flocked  from  all  parts,  but  none  pleased  her ;  the  more  they  tried  to  do  so,  the 
more  disdainful  she  became.  One  night  her  poor  mother  could  not  sleep,  so  she 
took  her  rosary  from  the  wall  and  began  to  pray  for  the  daughter  who  gave  her 
so  much  anxiety.  Marienka  slept  in  the  same  bed,  and  while  her  mother  was 
gazing  fondly  at  her  child's  beauty,  Marienka  suddenly  laughed  in  her  sleep. 


Bohemian  Stories. 


213 


"  What  a  delightful  dream  she  must  be  having  to  laugh  in  that  way !  "  thought 
the  mother  to  herself. 

Then  she  finished  her  prayer,  replaced  the  rosary  on  the  wall,  and  laying  her 
head  on  the  pillow  beside  her  daughter,  soon  fell  asleep.  In  the  morning  she 
said — 

"  Dear  child,  what  pleasant  dream  was  that  you  had  last  night  to  make  you 
laugh  so?" 

"  What  did  I  dream,  mother?  Why,  I  dreamed  that  a  lord  came  here  for  me,  in 
a  copper  coach.  He  put  a  ring  on  my  finger,  the  stones  of  which  sparkled  like 
the  stars  ;  and  when  I  entered  the  church,  people  had  only  eyes  for  the  Blessed 
Virgin  and  for  me." 

"  My  daughter,  my 
daughter,  what  a 
proud  dream  !  "  said 
the  poor  mother, 
shaking  her  head.  But 
Marienka  left  the 
room  singing. 

The  same  day  a 
cart  drove  into  the 
yard,  and  a  handsome 
well-to-do  young 
farmer  came  to  ask 
Marienka  to  share 
with  him  peasant's 
fare.  The  suitor 
pleased  the  mother, 
but  the  proud  Marienka  rejected  him  with  disdain,  saying — 

"  Even  if  you  were  to  come  in  a  copper  coach,  and  were  to  put  a  ring  on  my 
finger,  the  stones  of  which  sparkled  like  the  stars,  I  would  not  have  you  for  a 
husband." 

The  young  man  withdrew,  cursing  Marienka's  pride. 

The  following  night  the  mother  awoke,  took  down  her  rosary,  and  prayed  still 
more  fervently  for  her  daughter  :  and  again  Marienka  laughed  aloud  in  her  sleep. 

"  What  can  she  be  dreaming  about  ?  "  thought  the  mother,  who  was  praying, 
and  could  not  sleep. 

Next  morning  she  said — 


214 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Dear  child,  what  were  you  dreaming  of  last  night  ?  You  were  laughing  aloud 
in  your  sleep." 

"  Of  what  was  I  dreaming,  mother?"  answered  Marienka.  "  I  was  dreaming 
that  a  lord  came  to  fetch  me  in  a  silver  coach,  and  offered  me  a  gold  diadem  ; 
and  when  I  entered  the  church  people  paid  less  attention  to  the  Blessed  Virgin 
than  to  me." 

"  Be  silent,  my  child,  you  are  profane  ! "  returned  her  mother.     "  Go  down  on 

your  knees,  rny  daughter,  and  pray 
to  be  kept  from  temptation." 

But  Marienka  fled  from  the  room 
to  escape  the  sermon  her  mother  was 
commencing. 

The  same  day  a  carriage  drove  into 
the  yard,  and  a  young  lord  alighted. 
He  came  to  beg  Marienka  to  share 
with  him  the  choicest  fare. 

"  It  is  a  great  honor,"  said  the 
mother.  But  vanity  is  blind. 

"  Even  if  you  were  to  come  in  a 
silver  coach,"  said  Marienka,  to  the 
new  aspirant,  "  and  were  to  offer  me 
a  golden  diadem,  I  would  not  have 
you  for  my  husband." 

"  Take  care,  my  daughter,"  said 
the  poor  mother,  "  pride  savors  of 
hell." 

"  Mothers  do  not  know  what  they 
are  talking  about,"  thought  Marienka, 

and   she   went    out    shrugging    her 
shoulders. 

The  third  night  her  mother  was  so  uneasy  she  could  not  sleep  at  all,  but 
prayed  for  her  daughter. 

Again  Marienka  burst  out  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"Good  heavens!  what  can  that  unhappy  girl  be  dreaming  about?"  cried  the 
mother,  who  remained  praying  till  the  day  dawned. 

In  the  morning  she  said — 

"Dear  child,  what  were  you  dreaming  of  last  night?" 


Bohemian  Stories.  21  g 

"  You  will  be  angry,"  answered  Marienka. 

"Tell  me,"  returned  the  mother;  "always  tell  me." 

"  I  dreamed  that  a  great  lord  came  with  a  numerous  suite  to  ask  me  in  mar- 
riage. He  was  in  a  golden  coach,  and  he  brought  me  a  gown  of  cloth  of  gold; 
and  when  I  entered  the  church  people  only  looked  at  me." 

Her  mother  crossed  herself,  while  Marienka  jumped  down  from  the  bed, 
and  went  into  another  room,  half  dressed,  to  escape  the  sermon  that  she 
dreaded. 

The  same  day  three  carriages  drove  into  the  yard,  one  of  copper,  one  of  silver, 
and  one  of  gold  ;  the  first  with  two  horses,  the  second  with  four,  and  the  third 
with  eight,  all  capari- 
soned with  gold  and 
pearls.  Pages  in  red 
hose  and  green 
jackets  and  waist- 
coats descended  from 
the  copper  and  silver 
coaches,  while  a 
grand-looking  man  all 
dressed  in  gold 
stepped  out  of  the 
golden  one. 

He  entered  the 
house,  and  kneeling 
on  one  knee,  asked 
the  mother  for  her 
daughter's  hand. 

"  What  an  honor!  "  thought  the  poor  woman. 

"  Behold,  my  dream  has  come  true,"  cried  Marienka.  "  You  see,  mother,  that 
as  usual  I  was  right  and  you  were  wrong." 

She  ran  immediately  to  her  room,  put  together  some  flowers  in  a  bouquet,  and 
smilingly  offered  it  to  the  great  nobleman  in  token  of  her  troth.  On  his  part, 
the  lord  slipped  a  ring  on  her  finger,  the  stone  of  which  sparkled  like  the  stars, 
and  offered  her  a  diadem  of  gold  and  a  gown  of  cloth  of  gold. 

While  the  proud  girl  retired  to  dress  herself  for  the  ceremony,  her  anxious 
mother  spoke  thus  to  the  bridegroom  : 

"  My  good  gentleman,  what  bread  do  you  offer  my  daughter?" 


216 


Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


"  At  my  home,"  he  answered,  "  the  bread  is  of  copper,  or  silver,  or  gold.  She 
can  have  her  choice." 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  thought  the  mother. 

Marienka  did  not  trouble  herself  about  any  thing ;  she  came  back  as  radiant  as 
the  sun,  and  taking  the  hand  of  her  betrothed  set  out  for  the  church,  without 
even  asking  for  her  mother's  blessing. 

The  married  couple  left  the  poor  woman  praying  in  the  church  porch ;  and 

when  Marienka  stepped  into  the  coach  she 
never  turned  to  look  at  her  mother,  nor 
thought  of  bidding  her  farewell. 

The  eight  horses  set  off  at  once  at  a  gallop, 
and  did  not  stop  until  they  reached  an  im- 
mense rock,  in  which  there  was  a  hole  as  big  as 
the  gate  of  a  town.  The  horses  plunged  into 
the  darkness,  while  the  ground  trembled  be- 
neath their  feet.  The  bride,  alarmed,  seized 
her  husband's  hand. 

"  Fear  nothing,  beautiful  one,"  said  he,  "  we 
shall  see  daylight  directly." 

Suddenly  a  thousand  torches  waved  round 
them,  for  the  gnomes  of  the  mountains,  each 
with  a  torch  in  his  hand,  had  come  to  greet 
their  lord,  the  king  of  the  mines. 

Marienka  knew  then  who  her  husband  was. 
She  cared  not  whether  he  were  a  good  or  an 
evil  genius  ;  at  any  rate  he  was  rich,  and  she 
willingly  accepted  her  new  lot. 

Emerging  from  the  darkness,  they  drove 
through  whitened  forests  at  the  foot  of  mountains  which  lifted  their  gloomy 
peaks  far  into  the  sky.  Pines,  beeches,  birches,  oaks,  and  rocks,  were  all  of  lead. 
At  the  further  end  of  the  forest  was  a  long  meadow,  where  the  grass  was  of 
silver,  and  in  the  middle  stood  a  golden  castle,  incrusted  with  diamonds  and 
rubies.  Here  the  carriage  drew  up,  and  the  king  of  the  mines  assisted  his  bride 
to  alight,  saying — 

"  My  beautiful  one,  all  this  is  yours !  " 

Marienka  was  enchanted  ;  but  one  cannot  travel  so  far  without  feeling  hungry, 
so  it  was  with  pleasure  that  she  watched  the  gnomes  setting  out  a  table  on  which 


Bohemian  Stories. 


217 


shone  gold,  and  crystal,  and  precious  stones.  Wonderful  meats  were  served, 
entries  of  emeralds,  roast  meats  of  gold  on  dishes  of  silver.  Every  one  ate  with 
gusto,  except  the  bride,  who  asked  her  husband  for  a  little  bread. 

"  Hand  the  copper  loaf,"  said  the  king  of  the  mines ;  but  Marienka  could  not 
eat  it. 

"  Hand  the  silver  loaf,"  he  said  next ;  but  Marienka  could  not  eat  it. 

"  Hand  the  golden  loaf,"  he  said  at  last,  but  neither  could  she  eat  that. 

"  My  beautiful  one,"  said  the  king  of  the  mines,  u  I  am 
sorry  for  it,  but  what  can  I  offer  you?  We  have  no  other 
kind  of  bread." 

The  bride  burst  into  tears,  but  her  husband  roared 
with  laughter,  for  his  heart  was  of  metal,  like  his  kingdom, 

"  Cry  if  you  like,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  will  not  help 
you.  You  have  got  what  you  wanted.  Eat  the  bread 
that  you  have  chosen." 

So  the  rich  Marienka  remains  in  her  castle,  dying  of 
hunger,  and  seeks  L,  vain  for  roots  to  appease  the  craving 
that  devours  her.  Heaven  has  granted  her  desire  only  to 
punish  her.  Once  every  year,  during  the  three  rogation 
days,  when  the  earth  opens  to  the  fertilizing  rain,  Ma- 
rienka returns  to  the  earth.  Pale  and  faded,  and  clad  in 
rags,  she  begs  from  door  to  door,  thankful  if  only  she  is 
thrown  some  scraps  and  if  she  receives  from  some  poor 
person  a  morsel  of  bread  and  a  little  of  the  pity  that  she 
lacks  while  in  her  golden  palace. 

While  the  grandmother  was  relating  this  story,  which 
had  a  true  Bohemian  flavor,  the  tall  Nanynka  opened  the 
door  from  time  to  time  and  poked  in  her  head.  She  longed  for  this  rude  jargon, 
which  made  her  smile  contemptuously,  to  be  finished.  At  the  last  word,  she 
pushed  open  the  folding  doors  and  made  a  triumphant  entry.  Stepping  back- 
ward, she  carried  in  with  both  hands  a  table  covered  with  flowers  and  wax 
candles,  which  was  better  furnished  than  that  of  the  king  of  the  mines.  The 
other  end  of  the  table  was  supported  by  a  young  man  of  a  noble  and  frank  bear- 
ing, whose  velvet  tunic,  turn-down  collar,  and  Tyrolese  hat  ornamented  with 
pheasants'  feathers,  made  him  look  like  some  old  portrait  of  King  Ottokar. 

"  Wentzel !  "  exclaimed  Stephan. 

"  Wentzel !  "  echoed  the  grandmother,  with  a  gentle  smile. 


218 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Wentzel ! "  said  the  young  girl. 

I,  too,  was  about  to  exclaim  "Wentzel,"  when  I  saw  the  newcomer  give  his 
hand  to'  Kathinka.  I  had  hardly  noticed  my  friend's  sister,  who  had  remained  at 
the  other  end  of  the  room  by  her  grandmother's  side,  knitting  silently;  but  now 
suddenly,  as  if  a  spell  had  been  removed,  she  rose  up  transformed.  She  was  no 
longer  the  school  girl,  but  a  woman.  Looking  at  the  newcomer,  she  held  out 
her  hand  to  him  with  such  trust  and  joy  that,  old  as  I  am,  it  made  my  heart  beat. 
I  understood  then  who  Wentzel  was,  and  why  he  stood  so  high  in  Nanynka's 
good  graces. 


I 


III. 

THE  HUSSAR'S  SONG. 

HAVE  made  an  important  discovery  in 
natural  philosophy  which  will  eventually 
eclipse  the  invention  of  Daguerre.  Thanks  to  the 
phenomena  that  I  have  studied  and  classified,  that 
old  lumber,  morality,  politics,  and  literature  will 
henceforth  form  part  of  the  natural  sciences. 
Natural  philosophy  will  be  the  supreme  law  of 
humanity.  The  article  on  the  subject  that  I 
destine  for  the  Academy  of  Sciences  is  not  yet 
finished,  and  this  great  work  is  still  a  secret,  but  I 
count  on  my  reader's  discretion  not  to  betray  me. 
The  result  of  numberless  observations  I  have 

made  in  the  course  of  more  than  thirty  years  is  that  the  human  race,  without 
distinction  of  sex,  forms  two  great  families,  which  live  together  but  are  com- 
pletely distinct,  and  more  opposed  than  day  and  night.  To  the  first  family, 
which  I  will  call  "  luminous,"  belong  those  individuals  who,  themselves  steeped 
in  sunshine,  spread  around  them  warmth  and  brightness  and  life.  These  are  the 
poets,  artists,  inventors,  patriots,  lovers,  and  other  madmen  of  the  same  sort. 
The  second  family,  which  we  will  call  "  the  refracting,"  comprises  those  indi- 
viduals whom  I  believe  to  be  kneaded  of  earth  and  melting  snow,  for  they  diffuse 
every-where  dampness,  cold,  fog,  and  boredom.  They  are  the  unsuccessful 

people,  the  critics,  blast  young  men,  somber  personages,  the .     But  do  not 

let  us  talk  politics. 


Bohemian  Stories.  219 

Wentzel  had  a  soul  formed  of  a  sunbeam.  From  the  moment  of  his  arrival, 
the  dark  parlor  where  we  were  chatting  seemea  brighter ;  every  thing  smiled 
around  us,  to  the  table  itself,  where  flowers,  wax-lights,  and  glasses  shone  with  a 
cheerful  brilliancy. 

"  Do  not  let  us  have  supper  yet,"  said  the  young  girl ;  "  let  us  sing." 

"  Be  it  so,"  replied  Stephan,  who  never  descended  from  his  pedestal,  "  we  will 
sing,  but  it  must  be  a  Bohemian  song.  I  will  explain  the  meaning  to  our  friend. 
Our  guest  must  learn  to  like  this  sonorous  language,  which  makes  a  melodious 
song  of  our  simplest  words." 

"  Give  us  the  hussar's  song,"  added  the  grandmother ;  "  I  like  that  duet. 
Kathinka's  voice  goes  so  well  with  Wentzel's.  Sing,  my  children." 

Kathinka  was  already  seated  at  the  piano  playing  a  sort  of  mazurka,  now 
sparkling  and  now  plaintive ;  and  these  are  the 
words  which  accompanied  this  original  air : — 

THE  HUSSAR'S  SONG. 

A  young  Hussar  and  his  lady-love 

Sat  'neath  the  flowering  may  ; 
He  said,  "  We  must  part  ere  the  sun  goes  down  ; 

To  the  wars  I  am  called  away. " 

She  said,  as  she  gave  him  a  golden  ring, 

"  Tis  a  pledge  of  my  love  for  thee  ; 
Keep  it,  dear  love,  till  we  meet  again  ; 

Oh,  whet,  will  that  meeting  be  ?  " 

The  years  rolled  by,  and  the  maiden  wept, 

Under  the  flowering  may  ; 
When  a  bearded  youth  with  a  valiant  mien 

Came  sauntering  by  that  way. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  cried,  "  hast  thou  seen  my  love, 

My  love  of  the  days  gone  by  ?" 
The  youth  replied,  "  He  has  long  since  we.d  ; 

Nay,  lady,  why  dost  thou  sigh  ? 

"  Oh,  dry  those  tears  which  are  falling  fast  ! 

This  golden  ring  dost  see  ? 
I  am  come  to  claim  thee,  my  own  true  love, 

And  none  will  I  wed  but  thee." 

After  the  song  was  finished,  I  still  seemed  to  hear  Margaret's  touching  lamen- 
tation and  the  joyous  voice  of  the  hussar.  As  I  gazed  at  the  two  young  people, 


2 20  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

who  had  thrown  all  their  soul  into  the  graceful  melody,  dreams  and  memories 
passed  before  my  charmed  eyes. 

«  Hulloa!  my  guest,"  said  Stephan,  laughing;  "if  you  were  not  a  grave  pro- 
fessor  I  should  suspect  you  of  crying.  What  music!  And  how  the  words 
harmonize  with  it!  Come,  you  are  one  of  us,  we  shall  soon  make  you  an  out- 
and-out  Bohemian.  And  now  to  supper!  You  must  taste  those  smoking 
sausages,  the  only  glory  of  Prague  that  the  Germans  appreciate.  When  we  come 
to  dessert  it  will  be  Wentzel's  turn  to  tell  a  story." 


IV. 

THE  STORY  OF  SSWANDA1  THE  PIPER. 

STEPHAN  had  brought  out  some  excellent  tokay,  which  was  as  clear  and 
golden  as  a  topaz,  and  we  had  already  clinked  our  glasses  four  or  five 
times  to  the  memory  of  Ziska  and  to  the  future  of  the  Slavonic  race,  when  I 
reminded  Wentzel  of  the  promise  which  had  been  made  in  his  name. 
"Do  you  want,"  said  he,  "  a  story  that  will  make  you  laugh  ?" 
"  No,  no,"  cried  Kathinka,  "  a  story  to  frighten  us.     It  is  so  pleasant  to  be 
frightened  when  one  is  surrounded  by  one's  friends  and  has  nothing  to  fear." 
"Very  well,"  said  Wentzel,  "listen  to  the  story  of  Sswanda." 

SSWANDA  THE  PIPER. 

Sswanda  the  piper  was  a  merry,  light-hearted  fellow.  Like  all  true  musicians 
he  was  born  with  an  unquenchable  thirst ;  and  he  was  besides  a  desperate 
gambler,  who  would  have  staked  his  soul  at  strajak.*  When  by  his  play  he  had 
earned  what  he  considered  sufficient,  he  would  then  amuse  himself  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  drinking  and  card-playing  with  the  first  comer,  until  such 
time  as  he  returned  home  with  pockets  as  light  as  when  he  started  in  th« 
morning. 

Nevertheless  he  was  always  so  gay,  good-tempered,  and  droll,  that  not  one  of 

1  To  be  pronounced  Shvanda. 
*  A  game  at  cards. 


Bohemian  Stories. 


221 


his  boon  companions  ever  left  the  table  as  long  as  he  was  there.  His  name  is 
still  proverbial  in  Bohemia;  and  where  the  Germans  say  "  That  is  alustiger,"  we 
«ay  "  He  is  a  Sswanda." 

One  day  there  was  a 
fair  at  Mokran,  and  of 
course  the  piper  was 
there.  Sswanda  hav- 
ing blown  away  at  his 
pipes  until  midnight 
and  gained  a  good 
many  zwanzigers, 
wished  to  amuse  him- 
self on  his  own  ac- 
count. Neither  prayers 
nor  promises  could 
induce  him  to  continue 
his  tunes,  for  he  wished 
to  drink  his  fill  and 
play  at  cards  at  his 
ease.  For  the  first 
time,  however,  he 
could  not  find  any- 
body who  would  play 
with  him. 

Sswanda  was  not  the 
man  to  leave  the  tavern 
as  long  as  he  had  a 
single  kreutzer  in  his 
pocket,  and  that  day 
he  had  a  great  many. 
After  talking,  laugh- 
ing, and  drinking  im- 
mensely, he  got  into 

his  head  one  of  those  fixed  ideas  which  are  common  with  those  who  have  been 
looking  too  often  into  their  glasses.  He  wished  to  play  cards  at  any  price,  and 
urged  all  his  neighbors  to  play  with  him,  but  in  vain.  Furious  at  not  finding  a 
partner,  he  rose  with  an  unsteady  step,  paid  for  what  he  had  drunk,  and  left  the  inn. 


222 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  At  Drazic,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  there  is  a  pilgrimage  going  on.     The  schooL 
master  and  the  bailiff  are  honest  people  who  are  not  afraid  of  a  game  at  cards, 

and  there  I  shall  find  men.     Hurrah!" 

He  snapped  his  fingers  with  joy,  and  jumped 
with  such  force  that  he  ran  forward  half-a-dozen 
steps  before  his  head  and  legs  quite  recovered 
their  equilibrium. 

The  night  was  clear,  and  the  moon  shone 
like  a  fish's  eye.  When  Sswanda  reached  the 
cross-roads  he  accidentally  looked  up  and  then 
stood  transfixed.  A  cloud  of  crows  were  flying 
round  and  croaking  overhead,  and  just  in  front 
of  him  were  four  upright  posts,  joined  at  the 
top  by  horizontal  beams.  From  each  trans- 
verse beam  hung  a  corpse  half  pecked  away  by 
the  crows.  This  was  the  gallows,  and  far  from 
a  pleasant  sight  to  a  less  stoical  soul  than 
Sswanda.  He  had  not  quite  recovered  from 
his  first  shock  when  suddenly  there  appeared 
before  him  a  man  clad  in  black,  with  pale 
cheeks,  and  eyes  that  shone  like  carbuncles. 

"  Where  are  you  going  so  late,  piper  ?  "  asked 
the  newcomer  in  a  gentle  voice. 

"  To  Drazic,  black  man,"  answered  the  in- 
trepid  Sswanda. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  earn  something  by  your 
music  ?  "  said  the  mysterious  stranger. 

"  I  am  tired  of  blowing,"  replied  Sswanda. 
"I  have  gained  a  few  zwanzigers,  and  now  I 
want  to  amuse  myself." 

"  Who  talks  of  zwanzigers  ?  We  always  pay 
with  gold,"  said  the  stranger,  showing  him  a 
handful  of  ducats  which  glowed  like  fire. 

The  piper  did  not  know  how  to  resist  such  an 
inducement,  so  he  followed  the  man  in  black. 

How  long  he  walked  he  never  could  remember,  and  no  wonder,  as  his  head 
was  so  muddled.     The  only  thing  he  remembered  afterward  was  that  the  man. 


Bohemian  Stories. 


223 


m  black  warned  him  to  accept  whatever  was  offered  to  him,  whether  gold  or 
wine,  but  never  to  thank  any  one  otherwise  than  by  saying  "  Good  luck,  my 
brother." 

Without  knowing  how  he  had  entered,  he  found  himself  in  a  dark  room,  where 
three  men,  dressed  in  black  like  his  guide,  were  playing  at  strajak.  The  only 
light  in  the  room  came  from  their  flaming  eyes.  On  the  table  were  heaps  of 
gold  and  a  flask  of  wine,  out  of  which  each  of  them  drank  in  turn. 

"  My  brothers,"  said  the  man  in  black,  "  I  have  brought  you  our  friend  Sswanda, 
whom  you  have  known  by  report  fora  long  time.  As  this  is  a.  fete-day  I  thought 
I  would  give  you  a  treat,  so  I  have  procured  some  music  for  you." 

"A  capital  idea," 
said  one  of  the 
players,  and  taking  up 
the  flask,  "here, 
piper,"  he  added, 
"  drink,  and  then  give 
us  a  tune." 

Sswanda  had  some 
scruples,  but  after  all, 
the  wine,  though  a  lit- 
tle hot,  was  not  bad. 
He  put  down  the  flask 
on  the  table,  and  lift- 
ing his  hat,  said,  as  he 
had  been  recom- 
mended to  do,  "  Good 
luck,  my  brother." 

He  then  began  to  play  on  his  bagpipes  his  merriest  tunes.  Every  note  made 
the  cardplayers  jump.  Their  eyes  emitted  flames  and  they  moved  restlessly  on 
their  chairs,  while  they  turned  over  the  ducats  in  handfuls.  They  screamed  and 
shouted  with  laughter,  without  moving  a  muscle  of  their  pale  faces.  The  flask 
passed  from  hand  to  hand  and  was  always  full,  though  never  replenished. 
Directly  Sswanda  had  finished  a  tune,  they  handed  him  the  flask,  into  which  he 
did  not  fail  to  bury  his  nose,  and  they  threw  handfuls  of  gold  into  his  hat. 

'•'  Good  luck,  my  brother ! "  repeated  he,  feeling  very  giddy  with  his  good 
fortune,  "  good  luck." 

This  went  on   for  some  time,  until  at  last  the  piper  having  begun  to  play  a 


224 


Laboulayes  Fairv   Tales. 


polka,  the  men  in  black  in  a  transport  of  gayety  rose  up  from  the  table  and 
danced  and  waltzed  with  an  ardor  and  enthusiasm  which  ill  accorded  with  their 
stony  faces.  One  of  the  dancers  took  a  heap  of  gold 
that  was  on  the  floor  and  filled  Sswanda's  hat 
with  it. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  "this  is  for  the  pleasure  you  are 
giving  us ! " 

"  God  bless  you,  my  good  gentlemen,"  cried  the 
musician,  quite  dazzled. 

Before  he  had  finished  his  sentence,  the  room, 
cards,  and  men  in  black  had  all  disappeared  ! 

Next  morning  a  peasant  on  his  way  to  the  fields 
heard  the  sound  of  bagpipes  as  he  drew  near  the 
cross-roads. 

"  It   must   be   Sswanda,"   said    he    as  he  looked 
around  for  the  minstrel.     But  where  do  you  think 
the  piper  was  ?     He  was  seated  on  one  of  the  corners 
of  the  gallows    blow- 
ing away  at  his  pipes, 
while  the  corpses  of 
the    four    men    that 
were  hanging  beneath 
him    swung   to     and 
fro  in    the    morning 
breeze. 

"  Hulloa,  friend !  " 
cried  the  peasant ; 
"  how  long  have  you 
been  perched  up 
there?" 

Suddenly  Sswanda 
started,    let    fall  his 
bagpipes,  opened  his 
eyes,  and  slipped  terrified  down  one  of  the  posts  to  the  ground.     His  first  thought, 
nevertheless,  was  for  his  ducats.     He  fumbled  in  his  pockets,  and  turned  his  hat 
inside  out,  but  found  nothing  in  them,  not  even  a  kreutzer ! 

"Friend,"   said    the   peasant,    crossing   himself,    "God    has    punished    thee 


Bohemian  Stories.  225 

by  giving  thee  the  devil  for  a  companion  because  thou  lovest  cards  too 
well." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Sswanda,  trembling;  "  I  will  never  touch  them  again  as 
long  as  I  live." 

He  kept  his  word,  and  to  show  his  gratitude  to  Heaven  for  bringing  him  out 
of  such  great  danger,  he  took  the  fatal  bagpipes,  which  had  made  the  devil  dance, 
and  hung  them  up  as  a  votive  offering  in  the  church  of  Strakonic  in  his  native  coun- 
try. They  are  to  be  seen  there  still ;  and  the  bagpipes  of  Strakonic  have  passed 
into  a  proverb.  It  is  even  said  that  they  resound  at  the  day  and  hour  when 
Sswanda  played  on  them  for  Satan  and  his  friends. 


V. 

THE  TWELVE   MONTHS. 

T  T  is  your  turn  now,  mademoiselle,"  I  said  to  Kathinka. 
-L      "  And  then  it  will  be  yours,"  she  answered  ;  "  there  are  such  delightful 
French  stories.     In  the  meanwhile  this  is  my  story." 

THE  TWELVE  MONTHS. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  peasant  woman,  left  a  widow  with  two  children. 
The  elder  of  the  two,  who  was  her  stepdaughter,  was  called  Dobrunka,  and  the 
second,  who  was  as  wicked  as  her  mother,  was  called  Zloboga.  The  widow 
adored  her  own  daughter,  but  she  hated  Dobrunka,  simply  because  the  latter  was 
as  beautiful  as  her  own  daughter  was  ugly.  Good  Dobrunka  did  not  even  know 
that  she  was  pretty,  so  she  could  not  understand  why  her  stepmother  always 
flew  into  a  passion  at  the  sight  of  her.  The  poor  child  did  all  the  work  of  the 
house  ;  she  swept,  cooked,  washed  and  spun.  She  cut  the  grass,  and  tended  the 
cow,  while  Zloboga  lived  like  a  princess,  doing  nothing  all  day  long. 

Dobrunka  worked  with  all  her  heart,  and  received  with  the  gentleness  of  a 
lamb  the  reproaches  and  blows  that  were  heaped  upon  her ;  but  nothing  dis- 
armed her  stepmother,  for  every  day  added  to  her  beauty  and  to  the  ugliness  of 
her  sister. 

"Now  they  are  both  grown  up,"  thought  the  widow, "suitors will  soon  appear, 


226 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


but  they  will  never  look  at  my  daughter  when  they  see  that  hateful  Dobrunka, 
who  every  day  grows  more  beautiful  to  spite  me.     I  must  get  rid  of  her  at  all  risks." 
One  day  in  the  middle  of  January,  Zloboga  longed  for  some  violets. 
"  Come,  Dobrunka,"  said  she,  "go  and  fetch  me  a  bunch  of  violets  from  the 
woods,  and  I  will  put  them  in  my  sash,  where  I  can  smell  them." 

"  Good  Heavens,  sister,  what  an  idea !  "  answered  Dobrunka ;  "  do  you  think 
that  violets  are  to  be  found  under  the  snow?  " 

"  Be  silent,  stupid,"  replied  the  younger  girl ;  "  do  as  I  tell  you.  If  you  do 
not  go  to  the  woods  and  bring  me  a  bunch  of  violets,  I  will  beat  you  black  and 
blue." 

The  mother  took  Dobrunka's  arm  and  pushing  her  out  of  the  house,  double- 

locked  the  door  upon  her. 

The  poor  girl  went  crying  to  the 
woods;  every  thing  was  covered  with 
snow,  there  was  not  even  a  footpath. 
Soon  she  lost  her  way,  and  shivering 
with  cold  and  hunger,  she  prayed  to  be 
released  from  her  misery. 

Suddenly  she  descried  a  light  in  the 
distance,  and  hastening  toward  it, 
gained  the  summit  of  a  rock.  There 
she  found  a  great  fire,  round  which  were 
twelve  great  stones,  and  on  each  stone 
sat  a  motionless  figure  enveloped  in  a 
long  cloak,  the  hood  of  which  covered 

the  head  and  fell  down  to  the  eyes.  Three  of  these  cloaks  were  white  like  snow  ; 
three  green  like  grass;  three,  the  color  of  ripe  corn;  and  three,  purple  like 
bunches  of  grapes.  The  twelve  figures  that  were  gazing  at  the  fire  in  silence 
were  the  twelve  months  of  the  year.  Dobrunka  recognized  January  by  his  long 
white  beard,  and  he  alone  had  a  stick  in  his  hand.  The  poor  girl  was  very  much 

frightened,  but  she  drew  near,  saying,  in  a  timid  voice 

"  Good  sirs,  allow  me  to  warm  myself  at  your  fire  ;  I  am  frozen." 
January  made  a  sign  with  his  head.     "Why  do  you  come  here,  my  girl  ?" 
said  he  ;  "  what  do  you  seek  ?  " 

"  I  was  looking  for  violets,"  answered  Dobrunka. 

"This  is  not  the  season  ;  there  are  no  violets  when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground  " 
said  January,  in  his  big  loud  voice. 


Bohemian  Stories. 


227 


"  I  know  it,"  sadly  replied  Dobrunka ;  "  but  my  sister  and  my  mother  will  beat 
jne  black  and  blue  if  I  do  not  bring  some  back.  Pray  gentlemen,  will  you  tell  me 
where  I  can  find  any  ?  " 

Old  January  rose  up, 

and  turning  to  a  young 

man  with  a  green  hood, 

*put  his  stick  into  his 

hand. 

"  Brothe-  March," 
he  said,  "  this  is  your 
affair." 

March  rose  up  in  his 
turn  and  stirred  the 
fire  with  the  stick.  At 
once  the  flame  blazed 
up,  the  snow  melted, 
the  buds  reddened  on 
the  boughs,  the  grass 
grew  green  at  the  foot 
of  the  bushes,  and  the 
ground  was  carpeted 
with  violets,  as  in 
spring  time. 

"  Quick,  my  child, 
gather  your  violets," 
said  March. 

Dobrunka  picked  a 
large  bouquet,  and  hav- 
ing thanked  the  twelve 
months,  ran  joyfully 
home.  Nobody  could 
have  been  more  aston- 
ished than  Zloboga  and 
her  mother  were.  The  scent  of  the  violets  perfumed  the  house. 

"  Where  did  you  find  these  beautiful  things?  "  asked  Zloboga,  sneering. 

*  Up  yonder  on  the  mountain,"  replied  her  sister.  "There  was  a  great  carpet 
of  them  under  the  bushes." 


228 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


Zloboga  placed  the  bunch  in  her  sash,  and  did  not  even  say  "  thank  you  "  to 
the  poor  child. 

The  next  day  the  wicked  girl,  seated  idly  by  the  stove,  thought  she  would  like 
some  strawberries,  so  she  told  her  sister  to  go  and  find  her  some  in  the  woods. 
Dobrunka  objected  that  strawberries  were  not  to  be  found  under  the  snow,  but 
Zloboga  screamed — 

"  Be  silent,  idiot,  and  do  as  I   tell  you.     If  you  do  not  go  to  the  wood,  and 
bring  me  back  a  basket  of  strawberries,  I  will  beat  you  black  and  blue." 

Again  her  stepmother  locked  poor 
Dobrunka  out,  and  the  unhappy  girl 
took  her  way  to  the  wood.  Looking 
hard  for  the  light  she  had  seen  the  day 
before,  she  was  fortunate  enough  to 
descry  it,  and  she  soon  reached  the  fire, 
trembling  and  frozen,  where  the  twelve 
months  were  seated  in  the  same  places 
as  before,  motionless  and  silent. 

."  Good  sirs,"  she  said,  "  allow  me  to 
warm  myself  by  your  fire :  I  am  frozen- 
with  cold." 

"  Why  have  you  returned  ?  "  inquired 
January.  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"I  am  looking  for  strawberries," 
answered  Dobrunka. 

"  This  is  not  the  season,"  returned 
January  in  his  loud  voice  ;  "  there  are 
no  strawberries  under  the  snow." 

"I  know  that,"  replied  Dobrunka, 
sadly ;  "  but  my  mother  and  sister  will 

beat  me  cruelly  if  I  do  not  take  some  back.     Pray,  good  sirs,  tell  me  where  I 
can  find  any?" 

Old  January  rose  up,  and  turning  to  a  man  in  a  gold-colored  hood,  handed 
him  his  stick. 

"  Brother  June,"  said  he,  "  this  is  your  affair." 

June  rose  in  his  turn  and  stirred  the  fire  with  the  stick.  Up  blazed  the  flame, 
the  snow  melted,  the  earth  grew  green,  the  trees  were  covered  with  leaves,  the 
birds  sang,  and  it  was  summer  Thousands  of  little  white  stars  -enameled  the 


Bohemian  Stories.  229 

grass,  then  they  changed  into  strawberries,  and  soon  the  strawberries  shone  in 
their  green  calyxes  like  rubies  in  the  midst  of  emeralds. 

"  Make  haste,  my  child,  and  gather  your  strawberries,"  said  June. 

Dobrunka  filled  her  apron,  and  having  thanked  the  twelve  months,  ran  joyfully 
home. 

Imagine  the  astonishment  of  Zloboga  and  her  mother  when  the  scent  of  the 
strawberries  perfumed  the  house. 

"  Where  did  you  find  these  fine  things  ?  "  asked  Zloboga,  contemptuously. 

"  On  the  mountain,"  answered  her  sister,  "  and  there  are  so  many  that  the 
ground  is  quite  red  with  them." 

Zloboga  and  her  mother  ate  the  strawberries  without  even  thanking  the  poor 
child. 

The  third  day  the  wicked  sister  fancied  she  would  like  some  rosy  apples. 
Again  the  same  threats,  the  same  insults,  and  the 
same  violence.  Dobrunka  ran  to  the  mountain, 
and  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  once  more  her 
friends,  the  twelve  good  months,  who  were  warm- 
ing themselves  in  silence. 

"  What !  come  back  again,  my  child  ?  "  said  old 
January,  making  room  for  her  at  the  fire. 

And  Dobrunka  told  him,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
that  if  she  did  not  take  home  with  her  some  rosy 
apples,  her  mother  and  sister  would  beat  her  to 
death. 

Good  January  went  again  through  the  ceremonies  of  the  day  before. 

"  Brother  September,"  said  he  to  a  graybeard  in  a  purple  hood,  "you  must  see 
after  this." 

September,  then  rising,  stirred  the  fire  with  the  stick  till  it  blazed  up,  and  the 
snow  melted,  and  the  trees  put  forth  some  yellow  leaves,  which  fell  one  by  one 
at  a  breath  of  wind.  It  was  autumn.  A  few  late  carnations  and  daisies  and 
everlastings  were  all  the  flowers  to  be  seen  ;but  Dobrunka  never  heeded  them,  she 
saw  but  one  thing,  and  that  was  an  apple-tree  with  its  ruddy  fruit. 

"  Make  haste,  my  child,  and  shake  the  tree,"  said  September. 

She  shook  it,  and  one  apple  fell  down ;  and  a  second  time  she  shook  it,  and 
another  apple  fell. 

"  Quick,  Dobrunka,  make  haste  home,"  cried  September,  in  a  commanding 
voice.  Relieved  and  happy,  she  thanked  the  twelve  months,  and  ran  quickly  home. 


Laboidayes  Fairy   Tales. 

Zloboga  and  her  mother  were  extremely  astonished. 

"  What ! "  cried  Zloboga,  fresh  apples  in  January.    Where  did  you  find  them  ?  " 
"  Up  yonder  on  the  mountain,"  replied  Dobrunka.     "  There  is  a  tree  there  as 
red  as  a  cherry-tree  in  July." 

"  Why  did  you  only  bring  me  two  apples  ?  "  rejoined  her  sister.  "  I  am  sure 
you  have  eaten  the  others  on  the  way." 

"  I  have  not  taken  any,  sister.  I  was  only  allowed  to  shake  the  tree  twice,  and 
only  these  two  apples  fell  down." 

"  Get  away,"  cried  Zloboga,  and  she  struck  her  sister,  who  ran  away  crying. 
The  wicked  girl  then  tasted  one  of  the  two  apples,  and  thought  she  had  never 

tasted  any  with  so  fine  a  flavor.  Her  mother 
was  of  the  same  opinion.  What  a  pity  not  to 
have  more  of  them  ! 

"Mother,"  said  Zloboga,  "give  me  my 
pelisse,  and  I  will  go  to  the  wood  and  find  the 
tree.  Whether  I  am  allowed  or  not,  I  will  give 
it  such  a  good  shake  that  I  shall  bring  all  the 
apples  down." 

Her  mother  wished  to  speak  to  her;  but  a 
spoiled  child  listens  to  nobody.  She  wrapped 
herself  in  her  fur  pelisse,  drew  the  hood  over 
her  head,  and  ran  to  the  wood. 

Every  thing  was  covered  with  snow,  and  there 
was  no  path  to  be  seen.  Zloboga  soon  lost 
her  way,  but  greed  and  pride  urged  her  on- 
wards. At  last  she  perceived  a  light  in  the 
distance,  and  running  up  the  hill  toward  it,  she  found  the  twelve  months  each 
seated  on  his  stone,  silent  and  motionless.  Without  asking  leave  she  approached 
the  fire. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?  What  do  you  want?"  inquired  January, 
dryly. 

"What  is  that  to  you,  old  idiot?"  answered  Zloboga.  "  It  is  no  business  of 
yours  where  I  come  from  and  where  I  am  going."  And  she  plunged  into  the 
wood. 

January  knit  his  brows  and  raised  his  stick  above  his  head.  In  a  second  the 
sky  grew  black  with  clouds,  the  fire  died  down,  the  snow  began  to  fall,  and  the 
wind  howled  dismally. 


Bohemian  Stories. 


231 


Zloboga  coula  no  longer  see  before  her,  and,  bewildered,  sought  in  vain  to 
return  by  the  way  she  had  come. 

The  snow  fell  thicker  and  thicker  ;  she  called  aloud  for  her  mother,  and  cursed 
her  sister ;  and  at  last,  frozen  and  de- 
spairing, she  sank  on  the  ground. 

At  home,  her  mother  paced  un- 
ceasingly from  the  window  to  the  door, 
and  from  the  door  to  the  window. 
Hour  after  hour  passed,  but  Zloboga 
did  not  return. 

"  I  must  go  and  find  my  daughter," 
she  said.  "  The  child  must  have  lost 
her  way  in  looking  for  those  hateful 
apples." 

The  mother  put  on  her  pelisse  and 
hood,  and  ran  to  the  mountain.  Faster 
and  faster  fell  the  snow  as  she  plunged 
into  the  wood  and  called  her  daughter. 
Hurrying  on  with  feverish  anxiety,  she 
called  out  again  and  again,  while  the 
snow  fell  thicker  and  thicker,  and  the 
wind  wailed  among  the  trees. 

Dobrunka  waited  for  them  till  even- 
ing, and  then  all  night ;  but  they  never 
returned.  In  the  morning  she  took  her 
spinning-wheel,  and  spun  a  distaff  full ; 
but  still  no  news. 

"  Good  heavens  !  what  can  have  hap- 
pened ?  "  thought  the  girl. 

The  sun  was  shining  through  the 
frosty  fog,  and  the  snow  lay  deep  upon 
the  ground.  Dobrunka  crossed  herself, 
and  murmured  a  prayer  for  her 
mother  and  sister. 

They  never  came  home ;  and   it  was  spring-time  when  a  shepherd  found  their 
two  corpses  in  the  wood ! 

Dobrunka  was  now  sole  mistress  of  the  house,  the  cow,  and  the  garden ;  and 


2  .,2  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

it  was  not  long  before  a  young  farmer  frankly  offered  her  his  hand  and  his  heart. 
They  were  soon  married.  The  twelve  months  did  not  abandon  their  prottgte. 
More  than  once  when  the  north  wind  blew  too  keenly,  and  the  window-panes 
rattled  in  their  leaden  framework,  the  good  man,  January,  stopped  up  all  the 
chinks  in  the  house  with  snow,  so  that  the  cold  might  not  find  an  entrance  into 
this  peaceful  habitation. 

In  this  way  Dobrunka  lived  a  good  and  happy  life,  having,  as  the  proverb  says, 
•<  winter  at  the  door,  summer  in  the  granary,  autumn  in  the  cellar,  and  spring  in 
the  heart." 

VI. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE   KING  OF   ETHIOPIA. 

*  4  TVT  OW  ifc  is  your  tum'  monsieur>"  said  Kathinka,  turning  to  me  as  she  fin- 

1 N       ished  her  pretty  story. 
I  was  obliged  to  keep  my  word,  so  I  began — 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  KING  OF  ETHIOPIA. 

There  was  once  upon  a  time  in  Ethiopia  an  old  king  who  reduced  the  taxes 
every  year. 

"  It  is  a  real  fairy  story, '  said  Stephan.     "  Bravo  !  " 

This  king  had  three  sons ;  and  as  he  only  thought  of  the  happiness  of  his 
people • 

At  this  moment  Nanynka,  touching  me  on  the  shoulder,  and  making  me 
follow  the  direction  of  her  finger  pointed  to  the  timepiece,  which  marked  ten 
o'clock,  and  to  the  grandmother  who  was  sleeping  peacefully  in  her  arrn-chair. 
Without  knowing  Bohemian,  I  understood  this  language,  and  Wentzel  and  my- 
self rose  up  at  once  without  making  a  noise,  and  said,  "  Good-night." 

Kathinka  smiled  on  us  most  graciously,  Stephan  pressed  my  hand,  and  Na- 
^  nynka,  as  she  let  us  out,  accompanied  her  good-night  with  a  "  Miegte  se  dobre 
pane" '  which  enriched  my  Czech  glossary  with  a  new  sentence. 

Wentzel  accompanied  me  to  my  hotel.  We  had  not  gone  ten  paces  when  he 
began  in  his  turn  the  praises  of  Bohemia. 

1  Farewell,  sir. 


Bohemian  Stories.  233 

"  Very  good/  thought  I ;  "  another  organ-grinder.     Now  for  John  of  Nepo- 
muk  again. 

I  was  only  partially  mistaken.  Wentzel  left  the  Slavonic  heroes  of  past  ages 
in  peace,  but  with  extreme  vivacity  assured  me  that  the  most  charming  \vomen 
in  the  world  were  to  be  found  in  Bohemia,  the  most  charming  women  of  Bohe- 
mia in  Prague,  and  the  most  charming  woman  of  Prague  in  No.  719,  Kolowrat 
Strasse.  He  went  the  length  of  confiding  to  me  that  he  was  betrothed  to 
Kathinka,  and  was  the  happiest  of  men.  To  say  the  truth,  I  had  guessed  as 
much.  If  I  had  let  him  have  his  own  way  he  would  have  kept  me  out  in  the 
streets  of  Prague  until  midnight,  to  tell  me  by  the  light  of  the  stars  that  old 
story  which  only  tires  the  listener.  But  I 
was  ready  to  drop  with  fatigue  and  sleep, 
so  I  asked  my  new  friend  to  excuse  me. 

At  the  door  of  the  "  Blaue  Sterne  "  I 
found  the  amiable  waiter  with  the  fixed 
smile.  He  conducted  me  to  my  room,  and 
wished  me  good-night,  winking  in  an  alarm- 
ing manner,  as  if  a  mystery  was  concealed 
in  the  word  "  good-night."  Thank  Heaven, 
I  was  so  tired  and  so  happy  that  I  fell 
asleep  at  once.  Heaven  knows  what  delightful  dreams  I  had  that  night! 


VII. 

"  A  ND  the  king  of  Ethiopia  ? "  asked  my  little  niece,  to  whom,  as  a  kind 
/\  uncle,  I  had  been  reading  my  story  for  a  treat  on  New  Year's  Day. 

"  My  child,"  I  returned,  "  the  beginning  of  the  story  was  so  beautiful,  that  I 
have  forgotten  the  end.  If  I  remember  it  again,  I  will  tell  it  you  another 
time." 

"  Will  that  be  the  story  for  next  New  Year's  Day  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  My  child,"  I  replied,  "  a  year  is  a  very  short  time  in  which  to  make  up  a  story 
like  that." 

"  Will  it  take  ten  years  to  make  up,  uncle  ?  "  inquired  my  little  niece.  "  You 
don't  answer.  I  know  you  will  be  saying  that  I  must  wait  a  hundred  years  for  it. 

"  Just  so,  my  child,"  I  replied.     "  You  must  be  a  little  witch  !  " 


THE  THREE  LEMONS. 


A  NEAPOLITAN  TALE. 


ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  monarch  who  was  called  the  King  of  the 
Tower  of  Rubies.  He  had  only  one  son,  whom  he  loved  as  the  apple  of 
his  eye,  and  who  was  sole  heir  to  the  dynasty,  which  was  nearly  at  an  end.  To 
find  as  a  wife  for  his  son  a  noble  princess,  possessing  beauty  and  riches,  and 
above  all  else,  a  gentle,  amiable  disposition  (notice  these  two  last  points),  was 
the  one  ambition  of  the  old  king.  Every  night  he  fell  asleep  thinking  of  this 
much-desired  marriage,  and  every  night  he  dreamed  he  was  a  grandfather,  and  in 
his  dreams  caressed  a  troop  of  little  boys,  \vho  passed  before  him  with  crowns 
upon  their  heads  and  scepters  in  their  hands. 

Unfortunately,  together  with  every  virtue  which  was  ever  possessed  by  an 
heir  to  a  throne,  Carlino,  for  this  was  the  name  of  the  young  prince,  had  one 
slight  defect — he  was  shyer  than  a  wild  colt.  At  the  mere  mention  of  a  woman, 
he  would  shake  his  head  and  flee  into  the  woods.  Of  course  the  king's  vexation 
was  very  great  at  seeing  his  throne  without  successors  and  his  race  on  the  eve  of 
extinction,  and  it  made  him  as  sad  as  a  traveler  shipwrecked  within  sight  of 
port.  He  might  well  despair,  for  nothing  moved  Carlino  ;  neither  the  tears  of 
his  father,  nor  the  prayers  of  the  whole  nation,  nor  the  good  of  the  country ;  all 
failed  to  touch  his  flinty  heart.  The  greatest  preachers  wasted  their  powers  of 


The  Three  Lemons. 


235 


eloquence  in  reasoning  with,  him,  and  the  wisest  senators  failed  to  move  mm. 

Obstinacy  is  the  peculiar  privilege  of  royalty,  as  Carlino  was  well  aware,  and  he 

would  have  felt  ashamed  of  himself  if  he  had  yielded 

the  palm  to  another. 

Sometimes,  however,  greater  events  will  happen 

m  an  hour  than  at  other  times  in  a  hundred  years. 

One  morning  while  they  were   seated  at  table,  the 

prince,  who  as  usual  was  being  lectured  by  his  father, 

amused  himself  with  watching  the  flies  which  were 

buzzing  around  them  ;  and  forgetting  that  he  had  a 

knife  in  his  hand,  by  an  impatient  movement  cut  his 

finger.     The  blood  dropped  into  a  plate  of  cream 

which  had  just  been  placed  before  Carlino,  where- 
upon a  mad  whim  seized  him. 

"  Sire,"  he  said  to  his  father,  "  if  I  do  not  soon 

find  a  wife  whose  complexion  is  as  purely  red  and 

white  as  this  cream  tinged  with  my  blood,  I  am  lost. 

This  wondrous   maiden  must  exist   somewhere.     I 

love  her ;  I  have  completely  lost  my  heart  to  her,  and  win  her  I  must.     Fortune 

always  favors  the  brave.     If  you  value  my  life,  permit  me  to  travel  in  search  of 

the  realization  of  my  dream,  otherwise  I  shall  die  of  longing  and  enmii" 

The  poor  king  of  the  Tower  of  Rubies  was  overcome  with  horror  on  hearing 

this  mad  speech.     It  seemed  to  him  that  his  palace  was  tumbling  about  his  ears. 

He  first  turned  pale, 
then  red,  and  finally 
commenced  to  weep ;  at 
last  recovering  himself, 
he  exclaimed — 

"  Oh,  my  son  !  prop 
of  my  old  age,  my 
heart's  delight,  what 
has  put  such  an  idea 
into  your  head?  Is 
your  brain  turned? 

Yesterday  you  were  fast  making  me  die  of  grief  by  refusing  to  marry  and  per- 

petuate  our  line,  and  to-day,  as  though  to  drive  me  out  of  the  world,  you  take 

this  wild  idea  into  your  head.     Where  do  you  wish  to  go,  unhappy  boy?     Why 


236 


Laboiilayes  Fairy   Tales. 


should  you  leave  your  home?  You  do  not  know  to  what  perils  and  hardships  a 
traveler  is  exposed.  Get  rid  of  these  dangerous  fancies  ;  stay  at  home,  my  son, 
if  you  do  not  wish  to  kill  me,  and  at  the  same  time  ruin  the  kingdom  and  your 

family." 

This  speech  had  no  more  effect 
on  Carlino  than  an  official  harangue. 
With  abstracted  gaze  and  knit  brows, 
he  heeded  nothing  but  his  own  mad 
fancy.  Every  thing  that  was  said  to 
him  entered  in  at  one  ear  and  went 
out  at  the  other;  and  his  father's 
eloquence  was  entirely  thrown  away 
upon  him. 

When  the  old  king,  worn  out  with 
fruitless  prayers,  and  tears,  at  last 
realized  that  it  was  easier  to  melt  the 
weathercock  on  the  steeple  than  to  persuade  a  spoiled  child  bent  on  having  his 
own  way,  he  sighed  deeply  and  decided  to  allow  his  son  to  depart.  After  having 
given  him  good  advice,  to  which  he  never  listened,  and  bags  of  money,  which  he 
received  a  little  more  graciously,  as  well  as  two  devoted  body-servants,  the  king 
bade  farewell  to  his  rebellious  son.  He  embraced  him  tenderly,  and  then  with  a 
breaking  heart  ascended  the  tower  of  the  castle  to  gaze  as  long  as  possible  upon 
the  departing  traveler.  When  Carlino  had  disappeared  from  sight,  the  poor  king 
felt  as  if  his  heart  was  broken  ;  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands  and  cried  like  a  child. 
While  the  king  was  thus  grieving,  our  traveler,  mounted  on  a  fine  horse, 
cantered  away  with 
waving  plumes  and  a 
light  heart,  like  Alex- 
ander on  his  way  to 
conquerthe  world.  He 
traversed  mountains 
and  valleys,  he  visited 
kingdoms,  duchies, 

counties,  baronies,  towns,  villages,  castles,  and  cottages,  looking  at  every  woman 
and  observed  by  all,  even  by  those  who  pretended  to  keep  their  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ground.  All  his  search,  however,  was  in  vain ;  old  Europe  did  not  contain 
the  treasure  he  was  seeking. 


The  Three  Lemons. 


At  the  end  of  four  months  he  reached  Marseilles,  having  decided  to  embark 

there  for  India ;  but  at  the  sight  of  the  sea  during  a  storm  his  brave  and  faithful 

servants  were  suddenly  taken  ill.     To 

the  great  regret  of  these  good  men, 

they  felt  obliged  to  take  leave  of  their 

master  and    remain  quietly   on    terra 

firma  snugly  ensconced  between  the 

sheets,  while  Carlino  on  board  a  frail 

bark  defied  the  winds  and  waves. 
Nothing  stands  in  the  way  of  those 

who  are  wholly  possessed  by  a  great 

desire.     The  prince  traveled   through 

Egypt,    India,  and  China,   wandering 

from  province  to  province,  from  city 

to    city,    from    house   to    house,  and 

from  hut  to  hut,  seeking  every  where 

the    original  of  the  lovely  image  en- 
graven on  his  heart.     His  labor  was 

thrown  away.  Though  he  saw  women 
of  every 
shade  of  color 
— b  r  u  n  e  1 1  e 
and  blonde, 
chestnut-hair- 
ed, red-haired,  white,  yellow,  red,  and  black,  he  found 
nowhere  the  complexion  he  adored. 

Always  moving  from  place  to  place,  and  never  ceasing 
from  his  search,  at  last  Carlino  arrived  at  the  world's  end, 
and  saw  before  him  nothing  but  sea  and  sky.  His  hopes 
were  crushed,  and  his  dream  had  vanished.  As  he  was 
striding  along  the  beach  unhappy  and  disappointed, 
he  espied  an  old  man  basking  in  the  sun  ;  so  he  asked 
him  if  there  was  not  any  land  beyond  the  waste  of 
waters  which  stretched  away  to  the  horizon. 

"  No,"  replied  the  old  man,  "  nobody  has  ever  discov. 

ered  any  thing  in  this  sea,  which  has  neither  shores  nor  islands ;  at  least  those 

who  have  ventured  to  explore  it  have  never  come  back.     I  remember  when  I  was 


238 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


a  child,  our  graybeards  used  to  say  they  had  heard  from  their  fathers  that  in 

that  direction,  out  yonder,  far  away  beyond  the  horizon,  lay  the  island  of  the 

Fates  ;  but  woe  to  the  rash  mortal  who  should  ap- 

proach the  inexorable  sisters,  for  to  see  them  was  to     '^^7  3BIB 

die  !  " 

"What    does  that   matter?"   exclaimed  Carlino  : 

"  to  realize  my  dream  I  would  face  the  devil  himself." 
A  boat  lay  at  hand,  and  into  it  the  prince  jumped, 

and  hoisted  the  sail.       The  wind,  which  was  blowing 

freshly,  carried  the  skiff  quickly  out  to   sea,  the  land 

disappeared,  and  our  hero  found  himself  alone  on  the 

ocean.  In  vain 
he  scanned  the 
horizon,  nothing 
was  to  be  seen 
but  water  every 
where.  In  vain 
the  boat  bound- 

ed over  the  foaming  waves  like  a  horse 
proudly  shaking  its  mane.  Waves  chased 
waves,  and  hours  succeeded  hours.  The 
sun  dipped  to  the  horizon,  and  the  silence 
and  solitude  round  Carlino  seemed  to 
increase,  when  suddenly  he  gave  a  shout 
as  he  descried  a  black  spot  upon  the 
horizon.  At  the  same  moment,  the  skiff 
carried  along  by  the  current,  shot  through 
the  water  like  an  arrow,  and  grounded  on 
the  sand  at  the  foot  of  some  enormous 
rocks  which  lifted  to  the  sky  their  dark 
crags,  worn  into  sharp  pinnacles  during  the 
lapse  of  ages.  Fate  had  cast  Carlino  on 
the  shore  whence  none  had  ever  returned. 
To  scale  this  wall  of  rocks  was  no  easy 
matter.  There  was  neither  road  nor  path, 


. 


atst  H    ,  ,'  '          se>   an      w  ee"S     an* 

at  last  reached  the  top,  he  found  nothing  to  repay  him  for  his  trouble.     What  he 


The   Three  Lemons.  239 

did  find  was  heaped-up  ice  and  black  rocks  jutting  out  above  the  snow,  but  not 
a  tree  or  a  blade  of  grass,  not  a  tuft  of  moss  or  lichen.  It  was  altogether  a  scene 
of  winter  and  of  death.  Nothing  suggested  any  kind  of  life,  excepting  a  misera- 
ble ruined  house,  the  wooden  roof  of  which  was  weighted  with  great  stones  to 
resist  the  violence  of  the  wind.  On  entering  this  hut,  the  prince  saw  so  strange 
a  sight  that  he  was  struck  dumb  with  surprise  and  horror. 

At  the  far  end  of  the  apartment  was  a  large  piece  of  tapestry  on  which  was 
represented  every  condition  of  life.  Kings,  soldiers,  laborers,  and  shepherds, 
were  there  depicted,  and  beside  them  ladies  richly  dressed,  and  peasant  women 
with  their  distaffs.  In  the  foreground  boys  and  girls  were  dancing  gayly,  hand 
in  hand.  In  front  of 
the  tapestry  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house  was 
walking  to  and  fro. 

She  was  an  old  wo- 
man, if  the  name  can 
be  given  to  a  personi- 
fication of  death,  or  to 
a  living  skeleton, 
whose  bones  were 
scarcely  concealed 
under  a  skin  as  trans- 
parent and  yellow  as 
wax.  Like  a  spider 
about  to  pounce  upon  its  prey,  this  old  woman,  armed  with  a  long  pair 
of  scissors,  kept  closely  watching  the  figures  on  the  tapestry  with  a  cruel 
eye.  then  suddenly  she  would  throw  herself  upon  them  and  snip  them 
up  haphazard.  Then  there  would  issue  from  the  tapestry  a  mournful 
cry,  which  was  enough  to  curdle  the  blood  of  the  bravest  heart.  Tears 
of  children,  the  heartrending  sobs  of  mothers,  the  despair  of  lovers,  the 
groans  of  old  age,  every  kind  of  human  sorrow  seemed  mingled  in  that  bitter 
cry.  At  this  wail  the  old  woman  burst  into  a  laugh,  and  her  hideous  face  was 
lit  up  with  a  fierce  joy  ;  in  the  meantime  an  invisible  hand  restored  the  stitches 
on  the  canvas,  which  was  constantly  being  destroyed  and  as  constantly  repaired. 

The  old  beldam,  reopening  her  scissors,  was  again  approaching  the  tapestry, 
when  she  perceived  Carlino's  shadow. 

"  Make  your  escape,   unhappy  man,"  she  cried  without  turning  round.     "  I 


240  Laboulays's  Fairy  Tales. 

know  what  brings  you  here,  and  I  cannot  help  you.     Go  to  my  sister ;  perhaps 
she  will  do  what  you  wish.     She  is  Life,  and  I  am  Death." 

Our  traveler  did  not  require  to  be  told  twice  ;  he  ran  straight  on,  thankful  to 
make  his  escape  from  such  a  scene  of  horor.  Soon 
the  aspect  of  the  country  changed,  and  Carlino 
found  himself  in  a  fertile  valley.  All  around  he 
saw  harvests,  flowery  meadows,  vines  trailing  from 
tree  to  tree,  and  olive-trees  laden  with  fruit.  Under 
the  shade  of  a  fig-tree  beside  a  running  stream,  a 
blind  woman  was  seated,  who  was  winding  round  her 
spindle  threads  of  gold  and  silk.  Near  her  were 
arranged  distaffs  charged  with  different  materials, 
such  as  flax,  hemp,  wool,  and  silk.  When  she  had 
finished  her  task,  the  Fate  stretched  out  a  trembling 
hand,  and  taking  a  distaff  at  haphazard,  began  to  spin. 
Carlino  made  her  a  profound  bow,  and  in  a  voice 
broken  by  emotion,  strove  to  tell  the  story  of  his 
pilgrimage  ;  but  at  the  first  words  she  stopped  him. 
"  My  son,"  she  said,  "  I  can  do  nothing  for  you. 
I  am  only  a  poor  blind  woman,  and  do  not  even 
know  myself  what  I  am  doing.  This  distaff,  that 
I  have  taken  at  random,  is  to  decide  the  fate  of  all 
who  are  born  this  hour.  Their  riches  or  poverty, 
their  happiness  or  misery  depend  on  these  threads 
which  I  cannot  see.  I  am  the  slave  of  destiny,  and 
can  create  nothing.  Address  yourself  to  my  sister, 
perhaps  she  will  do  what  you  desire.  She  is  Birth, 
and  I  am  Life." 

"  I  thank  you,  madam,"  returned  Carlino ;  and 
with  a  light  heart  he  hastened  at  once  to  the  young, 
est  of  the  Fates. 

He  soon  found  her  looking  as  fresh  and  lovely 
as  the  spring.  Round  her  every  thing  was  bursting 
into  life.  Corn  was  sprouting  and  stretching  up  its  green  shoots  along  the  dark 
furrows.  The  orange  trees  were  bursting  into  blossom,  the  buds  of  the  forest 
trees  were  shedding  their  red  sheaths,  while  little  callow  chickens  ran  hither 
and  thither  round  their  anxious  mother,  and  lambs  frisked  in  the  meadow. 


The   Three  Lemons. 


241 


This  damsel  received  the  prince  with  extreme  graciousness.  After  listening 
to  him  without  laughing  at  his  folly,  she  made  him  sup  with  her,  and  at  dessert 
gave  him  three  lemons  and  a  pretty  knife,  the  handle  of  which  was  of  mother-of- 
pearl  ornamented 
with  silver. 

"  Carlino,"  she  said, 
"  you  can  now  return 
to  your  father.  The 
prize  is  gained  ;  you 
have  found  what  you 
sought.  Now  depart, 
and  when  you  re- 
enter  your  kingdom, 
at  the  first  spring  of 
water  you  see  cut  one 
of  the  lemons.  A 
fairy  will  issue  from 
it,  who  will  say  to 
you,  '  Give  me  to 
drink.'  Hand  her 
quickly  some  water 
or  she  will  slip 
through  your  fingers 
like  quicksilver.  If 
the  second  escapes 
you  also,  be  very 
careful  about  the  last. 
Give  her  immediately 
some  water  to  drink 
and  you  will  possess 
the  wife  you  desire." 

Intoxicated  with 
joy,  the  prince  re- 
peatedly kissed  the 
fair  hand  that  was  granting  him  the  fulfillment  of  his  dreams.  He  was  more 
fortunate  than  he  deserved  to  be,  but  what  of  that  ?  Fairies  are  full  of  caprice, 
and  fortune  herself  is  a  fairy. 


242  Laboulayes  Fair  Tales. 

It  is  a  long  way  from  the  world's  end  to  the  kingdom  of  the  Tower  of  Rubies, 
and  in  journeying  over  lands  and  seas  Carlino  faced  more  than  one  danger,  and 
encountered  many  storms  ;  but  at  last,  after  a  long  journey  and  many  hardships, 
he  reached  his  native  country,  taking  with  him  the  three  lemons,  which  he  guarded 
as  his  greatest  treasures. 

He  was  only  two  hours  distant  from  the  royal  residence  when  he  entered  a 

thick  wood,  where  he  had  more  than 
once  enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  the 
chase.  A  clear  spring,  bordered  with 
ferns  and  mosses,  and  shaded  by  birch- 
trees,  looked  very  inviting  to  the 
weary  traveler,  so  Carlino  seated  him- 
self on  the  daisy-enameled  grass,  and, 
taking  out  his  knife,  cut  one  of  his 
lemons. 

Suddenly  there  flashed  before  him 
a  maiden  as  white  as  milk,  and  as  red 
as  a  strawberry.  "  Give  me  to  drink," 
she  said. 

"  How  lovely  she  is !  "  cried  the 
prince,  so  enraptured  at  the  sight  of 
such  great  beauty,  that  he  forgot  the 
advice  of  the  Fate.  This  was  unlucky, 
for  in  a  second  the  fairy  vision  had 
appeared  and  disappeared.  Carlino 
was  as  much  astonished  as  a  child  who 
tries  to  hold  water  that  runs  through 
his  fingers.  He  tried  to  be  calm,  and 
with  a  hand  still  trembling  cut  open 

the  second  lemon  ;  but  the  second  apparition  was  still  more  beautiful  and  fleet- 
ing than  her  sister.  While  Carlino  was  gazing  at  her  wonderstruck,  she  was 
gone  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

This  time  the  prince  burst  into  tears  ;  they  flowed  so  plentifully  that  he  and 
the  spring  seemed  to  become  one  ;  he  sobbed,  he  tore  his  hair,  he  cursed  his 
folly  and  exclaimed — 

•'Ami  not  sufficiently  unhappy?  Twice  I  have  let  them  escape,  as  if  my 
hands  were  tied.  Fool  that  I  am !  I  deserve  my  fate.  I  ought  to  have  run 


The    TJirce  Lemons. 


243 


like  a  hare,  and  I  stood  stock  still  like  a  blockiiead.     Here  is  a  nice  piece  of 
work  !     Well,  all  is  not  lost  yet ;    but  if  this  knife  which  the  Fate  gave  me,  fails 
me    again   I    shall   be 
tempted    to    kill   my- 
self!" 

Speaking  thus,  he 
cut  open  the  last 
lemon,  and  the  third 
fairy  sprang  forth,  and 
said,  like  her  predeces- 
sors,  "Give  me  to 
drink." 

But  this  time  the 
prince  handed  her 
quickly  some  water, 
and  lo,  and  behold ! 
he  held  by  the  hand  a 
lovely  slender  maiden, 
white  as  cream,  and 
with  cheeks  like  a  car- 
nation. The  world  has 
never  seen  her  equal 
in  beauty  or  in  grace. 

Her  hair  was  golden,- 
her  eyes  were  blue, 
and  of  a  limpid  sweet- 
ness, which  seemed  to 
reveal  her  very  soul, 
and  her  rosy  lips  looked 
as  if  they  could  only 
open  to  charm  and  con- 
sole. In  a  word,  from 
head  to  foot  she  was 
the  most  enchanting 

creature  that  had  ever  fallen  from  the  sky,  and  it  is  a  pity  that  her  portrait  has 
not  been  preserved. 

The  prince  lost  his  head  with  surprise  and  joy  as  he  contemplated  his  future 


244  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

bride.     He  puzzled  himself  to  think  how  such  a  marvel  of  beauty  and  goodness 
could  have  come  out  of  the  bitter  rind  of  a  lemon. 

"Am  I  asleep?"  he  exclaimed  ;  "and  is  it  all  a  dream? 
If  I  am  the  sport  of  an  illusion,  for  pity's  sake  do  not 
wake  me." 

The  fairy's  smile,  however,  soon  reassured  him  ;  she  ac- 
cepted the  hand  he  offered  her,  and  she  it  was  who  first  asked 
to  be  taken  to  the  good  king  of  the  Tower  of  Rubies,  who 
would  be  so  happy  and  thankful  to  give  his  two  children  his  blessing. 

"  Dear  heart,"  said  Carlino,  "  I  am  as  anxious  as  you  are  to  see  my  father,  and 
to  prove  to  him  that  I  have  been  successful  in  my  search,  but  we  cannot  arrive 
at  the  palace  arm  in  arm  like  two  peasants  taking  a  country  walk.  You  must 
make  your  first  appearance  as  a  princess,  and  you  ought  to  be  received  in  a 
manner  befitting  your  high  rank.  Wait  for  me  here  while  I  run  to  the  palace, 
and  before  two  hours  are  past  I  shall  return 
to  you  with  attire  and  equipages  that  are 
worthy  of  you,  and  attendants  whose  duty  it 
will  henceforth  be  never  to  leave  you." 

Thereupon  he  raised  her  hand  tenderly  to 
his  lips,  and  left  her. 

When  the  maiden  found  herself  alone,  she 
began  to  be  frightened.  The  croak  of  a 
raven,  the  murmuring  of  the  forest  leaves, 
and  a  dead  branch  broken  by  a  gust  of  wind, 
all  added  to  her  alarm.  Trembling,  she  gazed 
around,  and  catching  sight  of  an  old  oak  near 
the  spring,  whose  hollow  trunk  offered  her 
shelter,  she  climbed  into  it  and  remained  con- 
cealed from  view,  excepting  her  charming 
head,  which  framed  by  the  leaves,  was  reflected 
below  in  the  clear  water. 

Now  there  resided  in  the  neighborhood  a 
lady  who  every  morning  sent  her  slave,  a 
negress,  to  fetch  water  from  the  spring.  Chloe, 
for  so  the  African  was  called,  came  that 'day  as  usual,  carrying  a  pitcher 
upon  her  head;  but  at  the  moment  of  filling  it  she  caught  sight  of  the 
fairy  s  reflection  m  the  water.  The  foolish  woman,  who  had  never  looked 


The   Three  Lemons. 


245 


at  herself   in   any  mirror,    imagined  that    it  was  her   own  reflection,  and   ex- 
claimed — 

"  Poor  Chloe !  To  think  of  such  a  beautiful  creature  as  you  being  sent  to 
fetch  water  like  a  beast  of  burden  !  Never  shall  you  do  it  more  !  " 

And  in  her  vanity  she  broke  the  pitcher  and  returned  home.  When  her 
mistress  asked  how  the  pitcher  had  been  broken,  she  answered,  shrugging  her 
shoulders — 

"  The  pitcher  may  often  go  to  the  well,  but  it  is  broken  at  last." 

Whereupon  the  lady  gave  her  a 
little  wooden  cask,  and  enjoined  her 
to  go  at  once  to  the  spring  and 
fill  it. 

The  negress  ran  to  the  fountain, 
and  gazing  fondly  at  the  image  in 
the  water,  she  sighed  and  said — 

"No,  I  am  not  like  a  monkey, 
though  they  are  always  telling  me 
so.  I  am  far  more  beautiful  than 
my  mistress.  It  is  for  asses  to  carry 
casks !  "  Then  taking  up  the  barrel, 
she  threw  it  with  such  force  to  the 
ground  that  it  was  broken  to  pieces ; 
and  she  went  back  to  the  house 
grumbling. 

When  her  mistress,  who  was  wait- 
ing for  her,  inquired  what  had  become 
of  the  cask,  the  slave,  in  a  passion, 
said — 

"A  donkey  ran  up  against  me, 
and  the  cask  fell  down  and  was 
broken."  , 

At  these  words  her  mistress  lost  patience,  and,  seizing  hold  of  a  broom,  si- 
gave  the  negress  a  lesson  which  she  was  not  likely  to  forget  for  a  few  days ;  tl 
taking  down  a  leathern  bottle  from  the  wall,  she  said— 

"Run,  you  wretch,  and  if  you  do  not  immediately  bring  back  this  boti 
of  water,  I  will  make  you  remember  it." 

The  negress,  frightened,  took  to  her  heels  and  ran  once  more  to  the  spring.  But, 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


when  she  had  filled  the  leathern  bottle,  Chloe  gazed  at  the  stream,  and  again 
seeing  the  reflection,  cried  passionately — 

"  No,  I  will  never  be  a  water-carrier.     I  am  not  made  to  be  worked  to   death 
like  a  dog  by  an  angry  mistress  !  " 

Saying  this,  she  drew  out  of  her  hair  the  long 
pin  which  fastened  it,  and  pricking  the  bottle 
through  and  through,  she  made  it  into  a  watering- 
pot,  whence  a  thousand  jets  issued.  At  this  sight 
the  fairy  began  to  laugh  in  her  hiding-place, 
and  the  negress,  looking  up,  saw  the  lovely 
young  girl,  and  understood  her  mistake. 

"  Very  well,"  said  she,  "  it  was  your  fault  that  I 
was  beaten,  and  you  shall  pay  for  it !  " 

Thereupon  in  her  gentlest  voice  she  asked — 
"  What   are  you    doing    up   there,    my  pretty 
lady?" 

The  fairy,  who  was  as  good  as  she  was  beauti- 
ful, sought  to  comfort  the  slave  by  talking  to  her. 
Acquaintance  was  quickly  made,  for  an  innocent 
and  unsuspecting  heart  is 
always  ready  to  make  friends. 
The  fairy  confided  to  the  negress 
all  that  had  happened  to  the 
prince  and  herself,  and  how  she 
was  alone  in  the  wood,  and  was 
every  minute  expecting  Carlino 
to  arrive  in  a  grand  carriage  to 
conduct  his  bride  to  the  king  of 
the  Tower  of  Rubies  and  to 
marry  her  in  the  presence  of  the 
whole  court. 

While  the  African,  who  was 
full  of  spite  and  envy,  listened 
to  the  narrative,  a  most  wicked  idea  occurred  to  her. 

"  Madam,"  she  said,  "  your  husband  is  approaching  with  all  his  suite,  and  I 
am  sure  you  wish  to  look  your  best.  Let  me  come  up  beside  you  and  arrange 
your  hair  for  you,  for  it  is  all  in  disorder." 


The   Three  Lemons. 


247 


"  You  are  as  welcome  as   flowers  in  May,"  replied  the  fairy,  with  a  winning 

.•smile,  and  she  stretched  out  her  little  white  hand 

to  the  negress,  who  took  it  in  her  two  black  palms, 

where     it    looked     like    a    crystal    in   an    ebony 

setting. 

Scarcely  had  she  climbed  up  than  the  wicked 

slave  let  down  the  fairy's  hair  and  began  to  comb 

it ;  then  suddenly   taking  out  her  own  long  pin, 

she  plunged  it  into  her  companion's  brain.     On 

feeling  herself  wounded,  the  fairy  cried  out — 
"  Ring-dove  !  ring-dove  !  " 
All  at  once  she  turned  into  a  ring-dove  and  flew 

away.     Whereupon   the,  horrible  negress   calmly 

took  the  place  of  her  victim,  and  thrust  her  black 

head  out  of  the  leafy  frame. 

In  the  meantime  the  prince,  mounted  upon  a 

magnificent  charger,  hastened  back 
at  full  gallop,  leaving  behind  him  a 
long  cavalcade.  Poor  Carlino  !  He 
found  a  crow  where  he  had  left 
a  swan.  He  nearly  fainted,  and 
when  he  tried  to  speak,  tears  choked 
his  voice.  In  vain  he  looked  round 
on  every  side,  seeking  his  beloved  ; 
at  last  the  negress,  putting  on  the 
expression  of  a  martyr,  said  to  him, 
casting  her  eyes  on  the  ground — 

"  Your  search  is  vain,  prince.  A 
wicked  fairy  has  made  me  her  victim, 
and  a  miserable  fate  has  changed 
your  lily  into  a  coal." 

Cursing  the  fairies  who  had  made 
a  mock  of  his  credulity,  Carlino,  like 
a  true  prince,  would  not  go  back 
from  his  word.  He  gallantly  gave 
his  hand  to  Chloe  and  helped  her  to 
descend  from  the  tree,  giving  vent 


248 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


the  while  to  such  a  tempest  of  sighs  that  it  was  enough  to  have  uprooted  all 
the  trees  in  the  forest.     The  African  was  then  attired  as  became  a  princess,  and 

was  decked  with  lace  and  diamonds,  which  only  made 

her  look  still  blacker  than  before.  Carlino  then  placed 
her  by  his  side  in  a  gorgeous  glass  coach  drawn  by  six 
white  horses,  and  in  this  way  he  returned  to  the  palace 
with  the  cheerful  feelings  of  a  condemned  man  who 
already  feels  the  halter  round  his  neck. 

About  a  league  from  the  castle  they  met  the  old 
king.  The  marvelous  tales  of  his  son  had  turned  his 
head.  In  spite  of  etiquette  and  chamberlains  he  was 
hastening  to  behold  the  incomparable  beauty  of  his 
daughter-in-law.  But  when,  in  place  of  the  dove  he 
had  been  promised,  he  saw  a  crow — 

"  Per  baccho  !  "  he  cried,  "  this  is  a  little  too  much  ! 
I  knew  that  my  son  was  mad,  but  I  had  not  been  told 
that  he  was  blind  too.  Is  this  the  incomparable  lily 
that  he  went  to  the  world's  end  to  find  ?  Is  this  the 
rose  fresher  than  the  dawn,  the  miracle  of  beauty  that 
emerged  from  a  lemon  ?  Can  any  body  suppose  that  I  will  put  up  with  this 
fresh  insult  ?  Do  they  think  that  I  will  leave  the  empire  of  the  Tower  of  Rubies, 
the  glorious  herit- 
age of  my  ancestors, 
to  negroes?  I  will 
not  allow  this  fright 
to  enter  my  palace." 
The  prince  threw 
himself  at  his 
father's  feet  and 
tried  to  move  him. 
The  prime  minister, 
a  man  of  great  ex- 
p  e  r  i  e  n  c  e ,  repre- 
sented to  his  royal 
master  and  to  the 

court,  that  white  often  became  black  and  vice  versd,  and  that  there  was  noth- 
)  be  surprised  at  in  such  a  very  natural  metamorphosis  in  the  maiden, 


The   Three  Lemons. 


249 


who  would  doubtless  return  on  the  morrow  to  her  pristine  fairness.  What  could 
the  monarch  of  the  Tower  of  Rubies  say  ?  He  was  a  king  and  a  father,  and  in 
consequence  was  always  accustomed  to  give  up  his  own  will  to  others.  So  in 
the  end  he  yielded,  and  consented  unwillingly  enough  to  this  singular  union. 
The  Court  Gazette  announced  to  the  whole  kingdom  what  a  happy  choice  the 
prince  had  made,  and  enjoined  good  subjects  to  rejoice. 

The  nuptials  were  not  to  take  place  for  a  week,  as  it 
required  that  length  of  time  to  make  all  the  preparations 
for  so  grand  a  ceremony. 

The  negress  was  installed  in  a  magnificent  suite  of 
apartments,  great  ladies  disputed  the  honor  of  putting 
on  her  slippers,  and  duchesses  obtained,  not  without  dif- 
ficulty, the  glorious  privilege  of  dressing  her.  The  town 
and  the  castle  were  adorned  with  flags  of  every  color,  walls 
were  pulled  down,  avenues  were  planted,  the  roads  were 
fresh-graveled,  old  compliments  were  polished  up,  and 
old  speeches  re-furbished.  Throughout  the  kingdom  the 

order  went  forth  that 
the  prince  was  to  be 
congratulated  on  hav- 
ing chosen  a  wife  so 
worthy  of  him. 

The  culinary  part  of 
the  festivities  was  not 
overlooked :  a  hundred 
and  fifty  cooks  and 
three  hundred  scullions 
set  to  work  under  the 
direction  of  the  famous 
Bouchibus,  the  king's 
chef.  Sucking  pigs 
were  killed,  sheep  were  cut  up,  capons  were  larded,  pigeons  were  plucked,  turkeys 
were  spitted,  and  there  was  a  general  massacre  of  the  feathered  tribe,  for  no  feast 
was  ever  complete  to  which  the  poultry  yard  had  not  largely  contributed. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  excitement  a  beautiful  wood-pigeon,  with  bluish  wings, 
came  and  perched  close  by  the  window  of  the  kitcher.  In  a  soft,  plaintive  voice 
it  sang,  sighing  these  words — 


250 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


"  Roocoo,  roocoo,  roocoo, 

What  will  the  prince  and  the  negress  do  ?  " 

The  great  Bouchibus  was  too  much  occupied  with  public  matters  to  pay  any 

attention  to  the  cooing  of  a  pigeon,  but   as  it  went  on,  he  noticed  that  the  bird 

spoke,  and  he  determined  to  announce  this  mar- 
velous  fact  to  his  new  mistress.  The  African  did 
not  disdain  to  visit  the  kitchen,  and  as  soon  as  she 
had  listened  to  the  bird,  she  gave  orders  to  the 
chef  to  catch  the  pigeon  and  make  it  into  a  pie. 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  The  poor  bird  let 
itself  be  caught  without  making  any  resistance. 
In  an  instant  Bouchibus,  armed  with  a  big  knife, 
cut  off  its  head  and  threw  it  into  the  garden. 
Three  drops  of  blood  fell  on  the  ground,  and 

three  days  later  a   beautiful  little    lemon-tree    appeared    out    of  the     ground, 

which  grew  so  fast  that  before  night  it  was  in  flower. 

Now  it  happened  that  as  the  prince  was  breathing  the  fresh  air  on  his  balcony, 

this  lemon-tree  attracted  his  attention.     He  could  not  remember  having  seen  it 

there  before,  so  he  called  the  cook  and  asked  him  who  had  planted  it.     Bouchi- 

bus's  account  puzzled  Carlino    very    much, 

and  he  commanded,  on  pain  of  death,   that 

no  one  was  to   touch  the  lemon  tree,  and 

that  the  greatest  care  was  to  be  taken  of  it. 
The  next  morning  on  waking,  the  prince 

hastened    to   the    garden,    where   he    found 

three  lemons  already  on  the  tree,  similar  to 

those  that  the  Fate  had  given  him.     Carlino 

gathered  them  and  locked  himself  into  his 

suite  of  rooms. 

With  a  trembling  hand  he  poured  some 

water    into   a   gold    cup,  ornamented  with 

rubies,  which  had  belonged  to  his  mother, 

and  then  opened  the  knife  which  he  always 

carried  about  with  him. 

He  cut  one  lemon,  and  out  came  the  first  fairy,  but  Carlino  scarcely  looked  at 

her  and  she  disappeared;  the  same  thing  occurred  with  the  second,  but  as  soon  as 


The   Three  Lemons. 


251 


the  third  one  appeared,  the  prince  handed  her  the  cup,  out  of  which  she  drank, 
smiling,  looking  more  lovely  than  ever. 

Then  the  fairy  related  to  the  young  prince  all  she  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
the  wicked  negress,  and  Carlino,  almost  out  of  his     J||||J|^HR^^HM^^^^^^M 
mind  with  mingled  fury  and  happiness,  began  to     ^ 
shout,  and  curse,  and  swear,   and   sing,  and  cry. 
He  made  such  a  noise   that  the  king  came  hurry- 
ing to  the  apartment.     And  now  it  was  his  turn 
to  go  mad  ;  he  began  to  dance,  just  as  he  was, 
with  his  crown  on,  and  his  scepter  in  his  hand 
Then  suddenly  he  stopped  and  frowned,  which 
was  a  sign  that  he  was  thinking  of  something, 
and  throwing  a  veil  over  his  intended  daughter- 
in-law,  which  covered  her  from  head  to  foot,  he 
led  her  by  the  hand  into  the  dining  hall. 

It  was  breakfast-time,  and  ministers  and  cour- 
tiers  were   standing   at   a   long   table,    superbly 
spread,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  king  and  prince.     The  king  summoned  them 
to  him  in  turn,  and  as  each  approached  the  fairy,  he  lifted  her  veil  and  inquired — 
"  What  ought  to  be  done  to  the  person  who  washed  to  kill  this  miracle  of 

loveliness?  " 

Each  one,  dazzled  by 
the  fairy's  beauty,  gave 
a  different  reply.  Some 
said  that  the  perpetra- 
tor of  such  a  crime  de- 
served to  be  hanged ; 
and  others  wished  that 
a  stone  should  be  fast- 
ened round  his  neck, 
and  that  he  should  be 
thrown  into  the  river. 
The  old  prime  minister 
considered  that  behead- 
ing was  too  good  for 

such  a  criminal,  and  voted  that  he  should  be  burned  alive,  and  all  the  company 
applauded  him. 


ft! 


2  5  2  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

When  it  was  the  negress's  turn  she  came  forward  unsuspectingly,  for  she  did 
not  recognize  the  fairy. 

"  Sire,"  she  said  to  the  king,  "  the  monster  who  could  be  cruel  to  this  charm- 
m      ing  person  assuredly  deserves  to  be  burned  alive  in  a 
furnace,and  to  have  his  ashes  scattered  to  the  winds." 
"  You  have  condemned  yourself  out  of  your  own 
mouth,"  cried  the  king  of  the   Tower  of  Rubies. 
"  Wretched  woman,  behold  thy  victim,  and  prepare 
to  die  !  "     Then  turning  to  the  officers  of  his  court, 
he   said,    "  Let   a  scaffold  be  erected  in  the  great 
square  in  front  of  the  palace.     I  wish  my  subjects 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  this  witch  burned." 
"  Sire,"  said  the  maiden,  taking  hold  of  the  king's 
hand,  "your  majesty  will  not  refuse  me  a  wedding 
present  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  my  child,"  replied  the  old  king, 
"  ask  whatever  you  like,  and  even  if  it  is  my  crown,  I  will  give  it  to  you  gladly  !  " 
"  Sire,"  rejoined  the  fairy,  "grant  me  then  the  life  of  this  unhappy  woman. 
She  is  a  wretched  and  ignorant  slave,  and  life  has  taught  her  as  yet  nothing  but 
hatred  and  envy.  Allow  me  to  make  her  happy,  and  to  teach  her  that  goodness 
here  below  consists  in  loving." 

"  My  daughter,"  replied  the  king,  "  it  is  easy  to  see  you  are  a  fairy.  You  do 
not  understand  human  justice.  We  do  not  reform  the  wicked  ;  we  kill  them,  it  is 
altogether  a  quicker  process  ;  but,  however,  I  have 
pledged  my  word.  Tame  the  viper  at  your  own 
risk.  I  will  not  oppose  your  wishes." 

The  fairy  raised  the  negress,   who  was  kissing 
her  hand  and  weeping.     All  then    sat  down  to 
table.     The  king  was  so  happy  that  he  ate  enough 
to  satisfy  four  ordinary  men  ;  as  to  Carlino,   who  never  took  his  eyes  off  his 
bride,  he  cut  his  thumb  half  a  dozen  times,  owing  to  sheer  absence  of  mind. 

When  the  good  king  died,  at  a  ripe  old  age,  Carlino  and  his  gentle  wife  as- 
cended  the  throne,  and,  during  a  reign  of  half  a  century  (if  we  may  believe 
history),  they,  never  once  increased  the  taxes,  or  caused  a  single  tear  to  be  shed, 
or  one  drop  of  blood.  More  than  a  thousand  years  afterward  the  people  of  the 
Tower  of  Rubies  would  sigh  when  they  talked  of  that  bygone  age,  and  it  was  not 
only  the  children  in  that  kingdom  who  longed  for  the  return  of  the  good  old 
times  when  fairies  reigned. 


CAPTAIN  JOHN'S  TRAVELS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CAPTAIN    JOHN. 

WHEN  I  was  a  child  (which  is  now  long  ago),  I  lived  with  my  grandfather  in 
a  pleasant  country  house,  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine.  Our  nearest 
neighbor  was  an  eccentric  individual  who  went  by  the  name  of  Captain  John. 
Report  said  he  was  an  old  sailor  who  had  been  five  or  six  times  round  the  world. 
I  can  see  him  now,  a  short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  yellow  wrinkled  face,  a  nose 
hooked  like  an  eagle's  beak,  a  white  mustache,  and  great  gold  earrings.  He 
always  dressed  in  the  same  fashion ;  in  summer  he  wore  white  from  head  to  foot, 
and  a  large  straw  hat ;  in  winter  blue,  with  a  tarpaulin  hat,  buckled  shoes,  and 
colored  stockings.  He  lived  by  himself,  with  a  large  dog  for  his  sole  companion, 
and  he  never  spoke  to  any  one.  He  was  looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  bogy,  and 
when  I  was  naughty  my  nurse  used  to  threaten  me  with  handing  me  over  to  this 
dreadful  neighbor,  a  threat  which  had  the  effect  of  reducing  me  to  instant 
obedience. 

In  spite  of  all,  I  felt  attracted  to  the  old  captain ;  I  did  not  dare  to  look  him 
in  the  face,  for  I  used  to  think  sparks  of  fire  flew  from  his  small  eyes  which  lay 
concealed  under  bushy  eyebrows,  whiter  still  than  his  mustache  ;  but  I  liked 
following  him,  and  unconsciously  I  often  found  myself  on  his  track.  The  sailor 
was  not  like  the  rest  of  the  world.  Every  morning  found  him  seated  on  the 
river  bank  in  a  meadow  of  my  grandfather's,  fishing,  with  the  same  unvarying 
luck.  While  he  remained  there  motionless,  waiting  for  his  gudgeons,  I  sighed 
with  envy,  for  I  had  been  forbidden  to  go  near  the  river.  What  fun  it  was  when 
the  captain  called  his  dog  and  stuck  a  lighted  match  in  his  mouth  while  he  held 


2  54  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

his  pipe  to  it,  quietly  watching  Fido's  terror !     That  was  a  sight  which  I  found 
far  more  entertaining  than  my  lessons. 

At  ten  years  old  we  do  not  conceal  our  feelings,  and  the  captain  noticed  my 
admiration  and  guessed  the  ambition  which  fired  me.  One  day  I  stood  on  tiptoe 
gazing  over  the  angler's  shoulder,  and  holding  my  breath  while  I  followed  with 
a  longing  look  the  line  as  it  fell  into  the  water. 

"  Come  here,  little  fellow,"  he  said  in  a  voice  which  sounded  like  a  cannon  in 
my  ear.  "  I  see  you  would  like  to  fish.  Now  if  you  can  keep  still  for  five 
minutes,  take  this  fishing-rod  beside  me,  and  we  will  see  how  you  can  man- 
age it." 

To  describe  my  feelings  at  that  moment  would  be  impossible.  I  have  ex- 
perienced some  pleasure  in  my  life,  but  never  such  intense  delight.  I  turned 
quite  red,  and  tears  stood  in  my  eyes ;  and  in  a  minute  or  two  I  was  seated  on 
the  grass  holding  the  rod  which  the  sailor  had  put  into  my  hand,  more  motion- 
less than  Fido,  and  looking  at  his  master  hardly  less  gratefully  than  he.  My  line 
cast,  the  float  bobbed.  "  Look  sharp  !  young  fellow,"  whispered  the  captain, 
"  there  is  a  fish  ;  give  it  line  ;  draw  the  line  gently  toward  you,  and  tire  out  the 
fellow  at  the  end  of  it." 

I  obeyed,  and  soon  landed  a  fine  barbel  with  mustachios  as  white  and  almost 
as  long  as  those  of  the  captain.  Oh,  glorious  day  !  No  successes  later  on  have 
ever  effaced  the  memory  of  it.  It  still  remains  my  greatest  and  my  sweetest 
victory. 

From  that  happy  hour  I  became  the  captain's  friend.  The  next  day  he  ad- 
dressed me  affectionately,  and  called  me  his  mate.  We  became  quite  insepara- 
ble, and  it  would  have  been  more  likely  to  meet  him  without  his  dog  than 
without  me.  My  mother  noticed  this  growing  affection  between  us,  and  as  the 
captain  was  a  worthy  man,  she  turned  the  friendship  to  good  account.  When 
my  reading  lesson  was  not  well  done,  or  when  there  had  been  some  fancy  spelling 
in  my  dictation,  I  was  forbidden  the  company  of  my  good  friend.  The  follow- 
ing day  (which  was  harder  still),  I  had  to  explain  to  him  the  reason  of  my 
absence.  Heaven  knows  how  he  used  to  swear  at  me !  Thanks  to  this  salutary 
treatment,  I  made  rapid  progress  in  learning.  If  I  do  not  make  more  faults  in 
writing  now,  I  owe  it  to  the  excellent  man  who,  with  respect  to  orthography, 
was  even  more  ignorant  than  myself. 

One  day,  when  with  difficulty  I  had  obtained  permission  to  join  him,  and  my 
heart  was  still  sore  with  the  scolding  I  had  received, 

"  Captain,"  I  said,  "  when  do  you  read  and  when  do  you  write  ?  ' 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  255 

"  Really,"  he  answered,  "  I  should  find  it  difficult  to  say.  I  neither  know  how 
to  read  nor  write." 

"  How  lucky  you  are  !  "  I  cried.  "  You  have  had  no  masters  ;  you  are  always 
amusing  yourself,  and  you  know  every  thing  without  having  ever  learned." 

"  Without  ever  having  learned?  "  he  replied.  "  Don't  you  believe  that.  What 
I  know  has  cost  me  very  dear.  You  would  not  wish  for  my  knowledge  at  the 
price  which  I  had  to  pay  for  it." 

"  How  was  that,  captain  ?  Nobody  scolded  you,  and  you  have  always  done 
what  you  liked." 

"That  is  just  where  you  are  mistaken,  my  child,"  he  said,  softening  his  big 
voice,  and  looking  kindly  at  me.  "  I  have  done  what  other  people  liked,  and  I 
have  had  a  severe  mistress  who  does  not  give  lessons  to  people  for  nothing.  Her 
name  is  Experience.  She  is  not  like  ycur  mother,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Then  it  is  experience  that  has  made  you  wise,  captain  ?  " 

"  Wise,  no ;  but  she  has  taught  me  the  little  that  I  know.  You,  my  boy, 
when  you  read  a  book,  you  profit  by  other  people's  experience,  but  as  for  me  I 
have  learned  every  thing  by  the  sweat  of  my  body.  I  do  not  read,  that  is  true, 
unluckily  for  me,  but  I  have  a  library  that  is  worth  a  good  deal.  It  is  here," 
added  he,  striking  his  forehead. 

"What  is  in  your  library?" 

"  A  little  of  every  thing ;  voyages,  travels,  something  of  trade,  medicine, 
proverbs  and  tales.  Does  that  make  you  laugh,  my  little  man  ?  There  is  often 
more  instruction  in  a  tale  than  in  all  Roman  history  put  together.  The 
wisdom  of  nations  produced  them.  Young  and  old,  great  and  small,  every  one 
may  profit  by  them." 

"  If  you  would  tell  me  one  or  two,  captain,  you  would  make  me  wise  like 
yourself." 

"  Willingly,"  replied  the  mariner,  "  but  I  warn  you  that  I  am  not  a  spinner  of 
fine  yarns.  I  shall  tell  you  the  tales  just  as  they  were  told  to  me,  and  I  will  tell 
you  when  that  was,  and  what  good  they  did  me.  Listen  to  the  story  of  my  first 
voyage." 


256  Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CAPTAIN  JOHN'S  FIRST  VOYAGE. 

I  WAS  twelve  years  old,  and  at  Marseilles,  my  native  town,  when  I  was  taken 
as  cabin  boy  on  board  a  trading  vessel,  which  was  called  La  Belle  Emilie. 
We  were  bound  for  Senegal,  with  a  cargo  of  blue  calico,  and  were  to  bring  back 
gold  dust,  elephants'  teeth  and  earth-nuts.  During  the  first  fortnight,  the 
voyage  was  very  uninteresting.  I  remember  nothing  but  the  cat-o'-nine-tails, 
which  was  administered  freely  to  me  to  form  my  character,  and  make  me  a  lad 
of  spirit,  as  I  was  told.  During  the  third  week,  the  brig  reached  the  coast  of 
Andalusia,  and  one  evening  we  cast  anchor  some  distance  off  Almeria.  As  night 
came  on  the  mate  took  his  gun  and  amused  himself  with  shooting  at  swallows, 
which  I  could  not  see,  for  the  sun  had  set  a  long  time.  Curiously  enough  there 
were  other  sportsmen  as  pigheaded  who  were  pacing  along  the  shore  and  firing 
from  time  to  time  also  at  their  invisible  game.  Suddenly  the  ship's  boat  was 
launched  ;  I  was  thrown  into  it,  rather  than  let  down,  and  there  I  had  to  receive 
and  arrange  bales  that  were  lowered  to  me  out  of  the  ship ;  we  then  loosed 
anchor  and  steered  for  the  shore  with  as  little  noise  as  possible.  I  could  not 
understand  the  meaning  of  this  expedition  on  a  starless  night,  but  a  cabin  boy 
does  not  trouble  his  head  about  reasons,  but  obeys  without  a  word — if  not,  let 
him  look  out  for  blows. 

The  boat  landed  on  a  deserted  shore,  some  distance  from  the  harbor  of  Alme- 
ria. The  mate,  who  commanded  us,  began  to  whistle ;  an  answer  was  returned, 
and  soon  I  heard  the  sound  of  horses'  and  men's  feet.  The  bales  were  landed, 
and  the  men  soon  laded  the  horses,  donkeys,  and  mules  with  them,  which,  very 
opportunely,  were  on  the  spot ;  then  the  mate,  having  told  the  sailors  to  wait  for 
him  till  daybreak,  set  off  and  ordered  me  to  follow  him.  I  was  hoisted  on  a 
mule  between  two  panniers,  and  soon  we  were  on  a  road  leading  I  knew  not 
where. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  we  descried  a  little  light,  toward  which  we  directed  our 
way.  A  voice  cried  out,  "  Who  goes  there  ?  "  to  which  we  answered,  "  The  old 
ones." 

A  door  then  opened,  and  we  entered  an  inn  frequented  by  people  who  did  not 
look  much  like  good  Christians.  They  were,  I  soon  learned,  Spanish  gipsies  and 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  257 

smugglers.  We  were  doing  a  contraband  trade,  and  so  ran  the  risk  of  being  sent 
to  the  galleys.  My  opinion  on  the  matter  had  not  been  asked. 

The  captain  retired  with  the  gitanos  into  a  low  room  adjoining,  where  they 
shut  the  door,  while  I  was  left  alone  with  an  old  woman  who  was  busy  getting 
supper  ready.  She  was  the  ugliest  old  witch  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life.  She 
took  me  by  the  arm  and  looked  me  through  and  through,  so  that  I  trembled  in 
spite  of  myself.  When  she  had  thoroughly  inspected  me,  she  spoke,  and  I  was 
much  astonished  to  find  I  could  understand  her,  for  she  spoke  what  was  like 
the  Marseilles  patois.  She  fastened  a  greasy  cloth  round  my  waist,  and  made 
me  sit  down  beside  her  cross-legged  on  a  rush  mat,  and  throwing  me  a  chicken 
told  me  to  pluck  it. 

A  cabin  boy  must  know  how  to  turn  his  hand  to  any  thing,  if  he  wishes  to 
escape  blows,  so  I  set  to  work  to  pluck  the  feathers  of  the  bird,  imitating  as 
well  as  I  could  the  old  woman  who  was  plucking  another  at  the  same  time. 
From  time  to  time,  to  encourage  me,  she  smiled  pleasantly  at  me,  showing  me  as 
she  did  so  each  time  three  great  yellow  teeth,  perforated  with  holes,  the  only  treas- 
ures left  in  her  mouth.  When  the  chickens  were  plucked  there  were  onions  to 
be  chopped  up,  garlic  to  pick,  and  the  bread  and  meat  to  prepare.  I  did  my 
best,  as  much  from  fear  of  the  old  woman  as  from  natural  amiability. 

"  Well,  mother,  are  you  satisfied  ?  "  I  said,  when  all  our  preparations  were  finished. 

"Yes,  my  son,"  she  replied,  "you  are  a  good  boy,  and  I  will  reward  you. 
Give  me  your  hand. 

She  took  my  hand,  turned  it,  and  began  tracing  the  lines  in  it,  as  if  she  were 
going  to  tell  my  fortune. 

"  Hold  hard,  mother !  "  I  said,  drawing  back  my  hand.  "  I  am  a  Christian,  and 
I  don't  believe  in  all  that." 

"  You  are  wrong,  my  son.  I  would  have  told  you  a  great  deal,  for  poor  and 
old  as  I  may  be,  I  belong  to  a  race  that  knows  every  thing.  We  gipsies  can  hear 
voices  that  you  do  not,  we  can  talk  with  four-footed  beasts,  the  birds  of  the  air, 
and  fishes  in  the  sea." 

"  Then,"  said  I,  laughing,  "  of  course  you  know  the  history  and  the  sorrows  of 
that  chicken  I  plucked." 

"  No,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  I  did  not  care  to  listen  to  it,  but  if  you  like  . 
will  tell  you  the  story  of  its  brother.  You  will  see  by  it  that  sooner  or  later 
retribution  follows  sin,  and  that  ingratitude  never  goes  unpunished." 

She  said  these  words  in  such  a  solemn  voice,  that  I  was  startled.  Then  she 
began  the  story  that  I  am  about  to  tell  you. 


2ej8  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  STORY  OF  COQUERICO.1 

IN  the  poultry-yard  of  a  rich  farmer  there  lived,  once  upon  a  time,  a  beautiful 
hen,  who  was  quite  a  fine  lady.  She  was  surrounded  by  a  numerous  prog- 
eny, which  clucked  round  her,  and  none  of  which  cried  louder  nor  picked  up 
the  grain  quicker  than  one  little  chicken  deformed  and  lame.  This  was  the  one 
the  mother  loved  the  best.  Mothers  are  the  same  all  the  world  over,  their  favorites 
are  always  the  ugliest.  This  poor  creature  had  only  one  eye,  one  foot,  and  one 
wing ;  it  was  as  if  Solomon  had  executed  his  memorable  sentence  on  Coquerico 
(this  was  the  name  of  the  feeble  individual),  and  that  he  had  cut  him  in  two  with 
the  edge  of  his  famous  sword.  When  a  fellow  is  blind  of  one  eye,  halt,  and 
maimed,  he  has  good  reason  for  being  modest,  but  our  Castilian  chick  was 
prouder  than  his  father,  the  best  spurred,  the  most  elegant,  the  bravest  and  most 
gallant  cock  to  be  seen  between  Burgos  and  Madrid.  He  thought  himself  a 
phoenix  of  grace  and  beauty,  and  he  used  to  spend  the  best  hours  of  the  day  in 
gazing  at  himself  in  the  brook.  If  one  of  his  brothers  ran  against  him  by  acci- 
dent, he  would  abuse  him  and  call  him  envious  and  jealous,  and  think  nothing 
of  risking  in  a  fight  his  one  remaining  eye.  If  the  hens  clucked  before  him  he 
said  it  was  to  hide  their  vexation,  because  he  did  not  even  deign  to  look  at  them. 

One  day  when  his  vanity  was  even  more  rampant  than  usual,  he  said  to  his 
mother — 

"  Listen  to  me,  madam  ;  Spain  bores  me,  so  I  am  going  to  Rome.  I  wish  to 
see  the  pope  and  the  cardinals." 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  child  ?  "  exclaimed  the  poor  hen.  "  Who  has 
put  such  folly  into  your  head  ?  Not  one  of  our  family  has  ever  left  his  country, 
and  we  are  an  honor  to  our  race  ;  we  can  trace  our  genealogy.  Where  will  you 
find  a  poultry-yard  like  this,  with  mulberry  trees  to  shade  you,  a  nice  white- 
washed fowl-house,  such  a  delightful  dunghill,  and  worms  and  seeds  every- 
where ;  brothers  that  love  you,  and  three  dogs  to  protect  you  from  the  foxes  ?  Do 

»  This  very  popular  tale  in  Spain  is  narrated  with  great  spirit  in  one  of  the  most  charming  novels  of 
Ferman  Cabellero,  La  Gaviota  ;  or,  the  Gull. 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  259 

you  think  that  at  Rome  even  you  will  not  regret  the  abundance  and  sweetness  of 
such  a  life  ?  " 

Coquerico  shrugged  his  maimed  wing  in  token  of  disdain. 

"  Mother,"  said  he,  "you  are  a  good  woman,  it  is  all  very  fine  for  those  who 
have  never  left  home,  but  I  have  wit  enough  to  see  that  my  brothers  have  no 
ideas  of  their  own,  and  that  my  cousins  are  clodhoppers.  My  genius  is  stifled 
in  this  hole.  I  want  to  see  the  world  and  make  my  fortune." 

"  But,  my  son,"  replied  the  poor  mother  hen,  "  have  you  ever  looked  at  your- 
self in  the  pond  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  you  have  only  one  eye,  one  foot,  and 
one  wing  ?  To  make  a  fortune  needs  the  eyes  of  a  fox,  the  legs  of  a  spider,  and 
the  wings  of  a  vulture.  Once  outside  the  yard  you  are  lost." 

"  Mother,"  replied  Coquerico,  "  when  a  hen  hatches  a  duck  she  is  always 
frightened  to  see  him  take  to  the  water.  You  know  me  no  better  I  see.  I  am 
bound  to  succeed  by  virtue  of  my  talents  and  my  cleverness.  I  need  a  public 
capable  of  appreciating  my  personal  charms.  My  place  is  not  among  the  small 
fry  here." 

When  the  hen  saw  that  all  advice  was  useless  she  said  to  Coquerico  : 

"  My  son,  listen  at  least  to  your  mother's  last  counsel.  If  you  go  to  Rome  do 
not  go  past  St.  Peter's ;  the  saint,  according  to  common  report,  does  not  like 
cocks,  particularly  when  they  crow.  Avoid,  too,  certain  people  called  cooks  and 
scullions.  You  will  recognize  them  by  their  white  caps,  their  turned-up  aprons, 
and  by  the  sheaths  they  wear  at  their  side.  They  are  privileged  assassins,  who 
hunt  us  without  mercy,  and  cut  our  throats  without  giving  us  time  to  cry  for 
mercy.  And  now,  my  child,"  she  added,  raising  her  leg,  "  receive  my  blessing, 
and  may  the  blessed  St.  Jago.  the  patron  saint  of  pilgrims,  protect  you." 

Coquerico  did  not  appear  to  notice  the  tear  there  was  in  his  mother's  eye, 
neither  did  he  trouble  himself  about  his  father,  who  was  raising  his  comb  and 
appeared  to  be  calling  him.  Without  caring  the  least  about  those  he  left  behind, 
the  thankless  fellow  slipped  through  the  open  door,  and  was  scarcely  through  it 
before  he  clapped  his  wings  and  crowed  three  times  to  celebrate  his  freedom — 
"  Cock-a-doodle,  Cock-a-doodle-do." 

As  he  ran  across  the  fields,  half-flying,  half-jumping,  he  came  to  the  bed  of  a 
stream  which  the  sun  had  dried  up.  In  the  middle  of  the  sand  there  was  still  a 
thread  of  water  to  be  seen,  but  so  small  a  one,  that  two  leaves  stopped  its 
passage. 

When  the  stream  caught  sight  of  our  traveler  it  said : 

"  Friend,  you  see  how  weak  I  am.     I  have  not  even  the  strength  to  carry  along 


26o  Laboulaye's  Fairy  Tales. 

these  leaves  which  bar  my  way,  and  still  less  to  go  round  at  all,  for  I  am  so 
dreadfully  weakened.  With  one  stroke'of  your  beak  you  could  restore  me  to 
life.  I  am  not  ungrateful.  If  you  do  this  for  me,  you  can  count  on  my  grati- 
tude the  first  day's  rain,  when  the  water  from  the  clouds  will  have  restored  to 
me  my  strength." 

"  You  are  joking ! "  said  Coquerico.  "  Do  I  look  like  a  gutter  sweeper  ?  Ad- 
dress  yourself  to  people  of  your  own  class,"  he  added,  as  with  his  good  leg  he 
jumped  across  the  thread  of  water. 

"You  will  remember  me  when  you  least  expect  it!  "  murmured  the  water,  but 
in  such  a  weak  voice  that  the  proud  cock  did  not  hear  it. 

A  little  further  on  our  young  cock  noticed  the  wind  quite  faint  and  out  of 
breath. 

"  Dear  Coquerico,"  it  said,  "  come  and  help  me  ;  here  below  we  all  stand  in 
need  of  one  another's  help.  You  see  to  what  the  heat  of  the  day  has  reduced 
me — me,  who  at  other  times  am  able  to  uproot  olive-trees  and  lash  the  sea  into 
fury :  look  at  me  killed  by  the  dog-days.  I  allowed  myself  to  be  put  to  sleep  by 
the  scent  of  these  roses  with  whom  I  was  toying,  and  here  I  am  on  the  ground 
nearly  fainting  away.  If  you  would  just  lift  me  two  inches  above  the  ground 
with  your  beak  I  should  have  strength  enough  to  rise  to  those  white  clouds  that 
I  see  up  there  blown  along  by  one  of  my  brothers,  and  I  should  get  a  little  help 
from  my  family,  which  would  enable  me  to  exist  until  I  inherit  my  share  from 
the  first  hurricane." 

"  Sir,"  replied  the  mean  wretch  Coquerico,  "  your  excellency  has  often  amused 
yourself  with  playing  tricks  upon  me,  and  entertained  yourself  by  opening  my 
tail  like  a  fan  and  covering  me  with  confusion  before  all  the  world.  Patience, 
then,  my  worthy  friend,  mockers  too  have  their  turn.  It  is  well  for  them  to  do 
penance  and  to  learn  to  respect  certain  personages  who,  by  their  birth,  beauty, 
and  talents,  ought  not  to  be  exposed  to  a  fool's  jokes." 

Whereupon  Coquerico  strutting  began  to  crow  three  times  in  his  hoarsest  voice 
— "  Cock-a-doodle-do  !  Cock-a-doodle-do  !  Cock-a-doodle-do  !  Coquerico-coquer- 
ico  !  "  and  went  proudly  on  his  way. 

In  a  freshly  harvested  field,  in  which  the  laborers  had  gathered  into  a  heap  all 
the  weeds  which  had  just  been  pulled  up,  smoke  issued  from  a  heap  of  tares  and 
corn-flags.  Coquerico  went  up  to  it  to  pilfer,  and  saw  a  little  flame  which  was 
blackening  the  still  green  stalks  without  being  able  to  set  fire  to  them. 

"  My  good  friend,"  cried  the  flame  to  the  newcomer,  "  you  are  just  come  in 
time  to  save  my  life.  I  am  dying  for  want  of  nourishment.  I  do  not  know 


Captain  John's   Travels.  261 

what  my  cousin  the  wind  is  doing  with  himself.  Bring  me  a  few  bits  of  dry 
straw  to  revive  me.  You  will  not  oblige  an  ungrateful  person." 

"  Wait,"  thought  Coquerico,  "  and  I  will  serve  you  as  you  deserve.  Insolent 
creature  to  dare  to  speak  to  me  !  "  And  the  fowl  jumped  upon  the  heap  of  damp 
weeds  and  pressed  it  with  such  force  to  the  earth  that  there  was  no  longer  the 
crackling  of  the  flame  to  be  heard  nor  smoke  to  be  seen  coming  out.  Where- 
upon Master  Coquerico,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  proceeded  to  crow  three 
times — "  Coquerico,  Coquerico,  Coquerico  !  "  And  then  he  clapped  his  wings  as 
if  he  had  quite  equaled  the  exploits  of  brave  Amadis  of  Gaul. 

Clucking  and  running,  Coquerico  at  last  reached  Rome,  for  all  roads  lead  there 
at  last.  On  arriving  he  ran  straight  to  the  great  church  of  St.  Peter's.  He  never 
thought  of  admiring  it,  but  placed  himself  in  front  of  the  principal  entrance, 
where  he  looked  no  bigger  than  a  fly  in  the  middle  of  the  colonnade,  and  raising 
himself  on  his  spur  he  began  crowing,  "  Cock-a-doodle-do  !  Cock-a-doodle-do ! 
Cock-a-doodle-do  !  Coquerico  !  Coquerico  !  " 

He  had  hardly  finished  when  a  Swiss,  one  of  the  Pope's  guard  who  had  heard 
him  cry,  put  out  his  hand  and  seized  the  insolent  little  fellow  and  carried  him  off 
for  his  supper. 

"  Here,"  said  trie  Swiss,  showing  Coquerico  to  his  wife,  "make  haste  and  give 
me  some  boiling  water  to  pluck  this  penitent." 

"  Mercy,  mercy,  Madam  Water  !  "  cried  Coquerico.  "  You  are  so  good,  so 
gentle,  and  the  most  beautiful  and  best  thing  in  the  world.  For  pity's  sake  do 
not  scald  me  !  " 

"  Did  you  have  pity  on  me,  when  I  implored  you,  ungrateful  creature?  "  re- 
plied the  water,  which  was  boiling  with  anger.  With  one  gush  she  wetted  him 
from  head  to  foot,  not  leaving  him  a  bit  of  down  on  his  body. 

The  Swiss  then  took  the  wretched  fowl  and  put  him  on  the  gridiron. 

"  Do  not  burn  me,  fire !  "  cried  Coquerico.  "  Father  of  light,  brother  of  the 
sun,  cousin  of  the  diamond,  spare  a  miserable  creature !  Restrain  your  ardor, 
and  subdue  your  flame,  so  that  you  do  not  roast  me." 

"  Did  you  have  pity  on  me  when  I  implored  you,  ungracious  wretch  ?  "  replied 
the  fire,  which  crackled  with  anger,  and  with  a  single  jet  of  flame  he  burned  Co- 
querico to  a  cinder. 

When  the  Swiss  saw  his  intended  supper  reduced  to  such  a  state,  he  took  the 
fowl  by  the  leg  and  threw  him  out  of  the  window.  The  wind  bore  him  away  to 
a  dungheap. 

"  O  wind  ! "  murmured  Coquerico,  who  still  breathed,  "  kind  zephyr,  protecting^ 


262  Laboulaye's  Fairy  Tales. 

blast,  here  I  am  returned  from  my  follies ;  let  me  rest  on  the  paternal  dung. 


! "  roared  the  wind.  "  Wait,  and  I  will  show  you  how  I  serve  those  who 
are  ungrateful."  And  with  one  gust  sent  him  up  so  high  in  the  air  that  Coquer- 
ico  on  falling  to  earth  impaled  himself  on  the  top  of  a  belfry. 

Here  St.  Peter  was  waiting  for  him,  and  with  his  own  hand  the  saint  nailed 
Coquerico'  to  the  highest  belfry  in  Rome.  He  is  still  to  be  seen  there  by 
travelers.  Notwithstanding  his  lofty  position,  every  body  despises  him  because 
he  turns  with  the  slightest  breath  of  wind.  He  is  black,  dried,  featherless,  and 
weather-beaten.  No  longer  is  he  called  Coquerico,  but  Weathercock,  and  in 
this  manner  he  pays,  and  will  pay  forever,  for  his  disobedience  to  his  mother, 
for  his  vanity,  insolence,  and,  above  all,  his  spitefulness. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  GIPSY  WOMAN. 

WHEN  the  old  woman  had  finished  her  story,  she  carried  in  the  supper  to 
the  mate  and  his  friends.  I  helped  her  to  do  this,  and  then  had  to 
place  two  great  skinfuls  of  wine  on  the  table,  after  which  I  returned  to  the 
kitchen  with  the  gipsy,  for  it  was  our  turn  to  eat. 

Our  repast  had  been  concluded  some  time,  and  I  was  chatting  in  a  friendly 
manner  with  my  old  hostess,  when  suddenly  we  heard  a  loud  noise  of  impreca- 
tions and  oaths  in  the  supper-room. 

Soon  the  mate  came  out ;  he  had  in  his  hand  the  boarding-ax  he  usually  wore 
in  his  belt,  and  was  threatening  his  boon  companions  with  it,  who  all  had  knives 
half-concealed  in  their  hands.  They  were  quarreling  about  the  payment,  for  one 
of  the  smugglers  held  a  bag  full  of  piasters  which  he  refused  to  give  up.  Self- 
interest  and  intoxication  prevented  them  coming  to  an  agreement. 

The  most  singular  part  of  it  was  that  they  had  come  to  the  old  woman  for  her 
to  decide  the  case  under  dispute.  She  had  great  authority  over  these  men,  due, 
no  doubt,  to  her  reputation  of  being  a  witch.  They  despised  her,  but  neverthe- 
less were  afraid  of  her.  The  gipsy  woman  listened  to  all  the  contending  cries, 
then  counting  on  her  fingers  the  bales  and  the  piasters,  finally  gave  judgment 
against  the  mate. 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  263 

"  Wretch  !  "  he  cried,  "  you  shall  pay  for  harboring  this  nest  of  thieves." 

He  lifted  his  boarding-ax ;  I  threw  myself  in  front  of  him  to  arrest  his  arm, 
and  received  a  blow  which  disabled  my  thumb  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  It  was 
the  first  lesson  experience  taught  me,  and  it  has  given  me  a  horror  of  drunken- 
ness ever  since. 

Furious  at  having  missed  his  victim,  the  mate  threw  me  down  with  a  kick, 
and  again  rushed  at  the  old  woman,  when  on  a  sudden  I  saw  him  stop,  put  his 
hand  to  his  side,  and  withdrawing  from  it  a  long  sword  wet  with  blood,  he  cried 
that  he  was  a  dead  man,  and  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

This  dreadful  scene  took  place  in  as  few  minutes  as  it  takes  me  to  narrate  it. 

For  a  space  they  stood  silent  round  the  corpse,  then  soon  the  cries  recom- 
menced ;  but  this  time  they  spoke  a  language  I  did  not  understand — the  gipsy 
tongue.  One  of  the  smugglers  showed  the  bag  of  money,  another  shook  me  by 
the  throat  as  if  he  wanted  to  strangle  me,  a  third  took  me  by  the  arm  and  drew 
me  toward  him.  In  the  midst  of  this  hubbub  the  old  woman  went  from  one  to 
another,  screaming  louder  than  all  of  them,  putting  her  hands  to  her  head  ;  then, 
when  she  took  my  arm  and  showed  my  bleeding  thumb,  which  was  nearly  cut 
off,  I  began  to  understand. 

Evidently  the  smugglers,  who  thought  to  profit  by  the  occasion,  and  get  cheap 
all  that  we  brought  with  us,  proposed  to  get  rid  of  me  and  keep  the  money.  I 
was  about  to  pay  with  my  life  for  the  fault  of  being,  against  my  will,  in  bad 
company ;  it  was  a  lesson  which  cost  me  dear,  but  which  has  proved  useful. 

Luckily  for  me  the  old  woman  carried  the  day.  A  scoundrel,  whose  gallows 
face  was  noticeable  even  among  all  these  honest  people,  constituted  himself 
my' protector.  He  placed  me  beside  him  along  with  the  old  woman,  and  holding 
in  his  hand  the  mate's  boarding-ax  he  made  a  speech  which  I  could  not  under- 
stand, but  of  which  not  a  word  escaped  me.  I  might  translate  it  thus:  "This 
boy  has  saved  my  mother.  I  take  him  under  my  charge ;  the  first  man  that 
touches  him  I  will  knock  down." 

This  was  the  only  sort  of  eloquence  that  could  have  saved  me.  A  quarter  of 
an  hour  after  all  this  commotion  my  wound  was  dressed  with  powder  and  brandy, 
and  I  was  mounted  on  a  mule  ;  in  one  of  the  panniers  was  the  packet  of  piasters, 
while  beside  me  across  the  animal  they  had  placed  a  great  sack  which  hung  over 
on  both  sides.  My  protector,  the  gipsy,  alone  accompanied  me,  a  pistol  in  each 
hand. 

When  we  reached  the  shore  my  conductor  called  the  captain,  who  happened 
to  be  in  the  ship's  boat,  and  had  a  long  and  brisk  conversation  with  him,  after 


264  Laboulayes  Fairy   Ta/es 

which  he  embraced  me,  gave  me  the  money,  and  said,  "A  roumi1  repays  good 
for  good  and  evil  for  evil.  Not  a  word  as  to  what  you  have  seen,  or  you  are  a 
dead  man." 

I  then  entered  the  boat  with  the  captain,  who  had  the  sack  thrown  into  a 
corner  by  the  two  sailors  who  carried  it.  Once  on  board  I  was  ordered  to  turn 
in,  but  it  was  long  before  I  fell  asleep  ;  however,  fatigue  at  last  carried  the  day 
over  excitement.  When  I  awoke  it  was  high  noon.  I  was  afraid  of  being  beaten, 
but  I  learned  that  we  had  not  yet  raised  anchor  because  of  a  death  which  had 
taken  place  on  board ;  the  mate,  I  was  told,  had  died  suddenly  from  an  attack 
of  apoplexy,  brought  on  by  drinking  too  much  brandy.  They  had  thrown  him 
into  the  sea  that  morning,  tied  in  a  sack,  with  shot  at  his  feet.  No  one  mourned 
for  him ;  he  was  very  wicked,  and  the  rest  of  the  crew  were  the  gainers  of  his 
share  of  the  expedition.  An  hour  after  his  burial  we  set  sail  in  the  direction  of 
Malaga  and  Gibraltar. 


CHAPTER  V. 

NEGRO  STORIES. 

rpHE  remainder  of  the  voyage  passed  uneventfully.  Once  sure  of  my  discretion 
the  captain  took  a  great  liking  to  me,  and  when  we  went  ashore  at  St. 
Louis  du  Senegal  he  kept  me  in  his  service  and  took  me  to  live  with  him. 

During  the  time  I  staid  in  this  new  country  I  did  not  wish  to  neglect  any 
opportunity  of  getting  instruction.  The  negroes,  who  surrounded  us  on  all 
sides,  spoke  a  language  that  no  one  would  take  the  pains  to  learn.  "  They  are 
savages,"  the  captain  used  to  say,  and  considered  after  that  speech  that  there 
was  nothing  more  to  be  said. 

As  for  me,  I  was  always  rambling  about  the  town,  and  soon  made  friends 
among  the  poor  negroes,  who  were  very  kindly  and  affectionate.  Half  by  words 
and  half  by  signs  we  soon  learned  to  understand  each  other,  and  I  talked  so 
constantly  with  them  of  one  thing  or  another  that  before  long  I  could  speak 
their  language  just  as  if  I  had  been  born  with  a  black  skin.  "  He  who  embarks 
bout  knowing  the  language  of  the  country  to  which  he  is  going,"  says  the 

1  The  name  the  gipsies  give  themselves. 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  265 

proverb,  "  does  not  travel,  but  goes  to  school."     The  proverb  is  right.     I  learned 
by  experience  that  negroes  are  no  less  intelligent  and  clever  than  ourselves. 

Among  those  I  saw  most  frequently  was  a  tailor,  who  was  very  fond  of  a 
chat.  He  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  proving  to  me,  in  his  language,  that 
black  men  are  cleverer  than  white. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said  one  day,  "how  I  came  to  be  married?" 

"  No,"  I  replied.  "  I  know  you  have  a  wife  who  is  one  of  the  cleverest  needle- 
women in  St.  Louis,  but  you  have  never  told  me  how  you  chose  her." 

"  It  was  she  who  chose  me,  and  not  I  her,"  he  said ;  "  that  is  enough  to  prove 
to  you  how  much  intelligence  and  sense  our  women  have.  Listen  to  my  story,  it 
will  interest  you." 

THE  TAILOR'S  STORY. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  tailor  (my  future  father-in-law)  who  had  a  very 
beautiful  daughter.  All  the  young  men  sought  her  on  account  of  her  beauty. 
Two  rivals  (you  know  one  of  them)  came  to  her  and  said — 

"  It  is  for  your  sake  we  have  come  here." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  answered,  smiling. 

"  We  love  you,"  replied  the  two  young  men,  "  and  each  of  us  wishes  to  marry 
you." 

Being  as  well  brought  up  as  she  was  pretty,  she  then  called  her  father,  who 
listened  to  the  two  suitors,  and  said  to  them — 

"  It  is  getting  late.  Go  away  now,  and  come  back  to-morrow,  and  you  shall 
then  know  which  of  you  two  my  daughter  has  chosen." 

The  next  morning  at  day-break  the  two  young  fellows  returned. 

"  Here  we  are,"  they  cried  to  the  tailor.  "  You  remember  what  you  promised 
us  yesterday." 

"  Wait,"  he  answered.  "  I  am  going  to  the  market  to  buy  some  cloth ;  when 
I  bring  it  back  with  me,  you  shall  hear  what  I  require  of  you." 

When  the  tailor  returned  from  market  he  called  his  daughter,  and  when  she 
had  come,  he  turned  to  the  young  men — 

"  My  sons,  there  are  two  of  you,  and  I  have  but  one  daughter.  To  whom 
must  I  give  her  ?  to  whom  must  I  refuse  her  ?  Look  at  this  piece  of  cloth,  I 
will  cut  it  out  for  two  similar  garments  ;  each  of  you  shall  sew  one,  and  he  who 
first  finishes  his  work  shall  be  my  son-in-law." 

Each  of  the  two  rivals  took  his  appointed  task,  and  prepared  to  work  under 
his  master's  eye.  The  father  called  his  daughter  and  said — 


266  Laboulaye's  Fairy   Tales. 

"  Here  is  some  thread  which  you  will  prepare  for  the  two  workers." 

The  girl  obeyed  her  father,  took  the  ball  of  thread  and  seated  herself  neaf 
the  young  men. 

Now  the  maiden  was  clever ;  her  father  did  not  know  which  she  loved,  neither 
did  the  young  men,  but  she  herself  knew  perfectly.  The  tailor  went  out,  and 
she  prepared  the  thread  while  the  young  men  took  their  needles  and  began 
sewing.  But  for  the  one  she  loved  (you  understand  me),  she  gave  short  needle- 
fuls, while  she  gave  long  needlefuls  to  the  one  she  did  not  love.  Each  sewed 
away  with  the  greatest  ardor.  At  eleven  o'clock  the  work  was  scarcely  half 
done,  but  at  three  in  the  afternoon  the  young  man  who  had  had  short  needle- 
fuls had  accomplished  his  task,  while  the  other  was  a  long  way  from  finishing 
his. 

When  the  tailor  came  back,  the  victor  brought  him  the  finished  garment, 
while  his  rival  was  still  sewing. 

'•  My  sons,"  said  the  father,  "  I  did  not  wish  to  favor  either  of  you,  and  that  is 
why  I  divided  this  piece  of  cloth  into  equal  portions,  and  I  told  you,  '  He  who 
shall  have  finished  first  shall  be  my  son-in-law.'  Did  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Father,"  replied  both  the  young  men,  "  we  quite  understood  what  you  said, 
and  accepted  the  test.  What  is  done  is  well  done." 

The  tailor  reasoned  thus :  "  He  who  finishes  first  is  the  cleverest  workman, 
consequently  he  will  best  sustain  the  credit  of  my  establishment."  He  had  not 
guessed  that  his  daughter  would  give  long  needlefuls  to  the  one  she  would  not 
have.  It  was  her  wit  which  decided  the  result,  so  it  was  the  maiden  herself  who 
chose  her  own  husband. 

(And  now  before  repeating  my  story  to  the  beautiful  ladies  of  Europe,  ask 
them  what  they  would  have  done  in  the  negress's  place,  and  you.  will  see  if  the 
cleverest  of  them  is  not  puzzled.) 

While  the  tailor  was  relating  to  me  the  story  of  his  marriage,  his  wife  had 
come  in  and  taken  up  her  work  without  a  word,  as  if  the  narrative  did  not  con- 
cern  her. 

"The  girls  in  your  country  are  very  clever,"  I  said  laughingly  to  her;  "it 
seems  to  me  that  they  are  cleverer  than  the  men." 

"That  is  because  our  mothers  gave  us  a  good  education,"  she  answered. 
"  We  have  been  all  brought  up  on  the  story  of  the  weasel." 

"  Do  tell  me  that  story,  pray  I  will  take  it  back  to  Europe  for  the  benefit  of 
my  wife,  when  I  am  married." 

"  With  pleasure,"  she  replied.     "  This  is  the  story." 


- 

Ay  >    «*•  e 

Captain  Johns   Travels.  267 

THE  WEASEL  AND  HER  HUSBAND. 

Mrs.  Weasel,  on  the  birth  of  her  son,  called  her  husband  to  her,  and  said— 

"Fetch  the  swaddling  clothes  that  I  like,  and  bring  them  to  me." 

Her  husband  listened  to  his  wife's  words,  and  said,  "  What  are  the  swaddling 
clothes  that  you  like?" 

And  the  weasel  replied,  "I  want  an  elephant's  skin." 

The  poor  husband  stood  as  though  stupefied  at  this,  and  asked  his  better  half 
if  by  accident  she  had  not  lost  her  senses.  For  answer  the  weasel  threw  the 
child  into  his  arms  and  started  off  at  once.  She  went  to  find  the  earth  worm, 
and  said — 

"  Comrade,  my  ground  is  full  of  grass,  help  me  to  remove  it." 

As  soon  as  the  worm  began  to  burrow,  the  weasel  called  the  hen. 

"  Here,  Mrs.  Hen,"  she  said,  "my  grass  is  full  of  worms;  we  shall  have  need 
of  your  help." 

The  hen  hastened  to  the  spot,  ate  up  the  worm,  and  began  scratching  up  the 
earth. 

A  little  further  on  the  weasel  met  a  cat. 

"  My  good  fellow,"  she  said,  "  there  are  some  hens  on  my  property ;  while  I 
am  away  you  should  take  a  turn  down  there." 

An  instant  afterward  the  cat  had  eaten  the  hen.  While  the  cat  was  regaling 
him  in  this  fashion,  the  weasel  said  to  the  dog — 

"Master,  do  you  intend  to  leave  the  cat  in  possession  of  that  domain?" 

The  dog,  furious,  ran  to  throttle  the  cat,  as  he  had  no  wish  for  any  one  to  be 
master  in  that  country  but  himself. 

The  lion  passing  by,  the  weasel  greeted  him  with  respect.  "  My  lord,"  she 
said,  "  do  not  go  near  that  field,  it  belongs  to  a  dog ;"  whereupon  the  lion,  as 
jealous  as  could  be,  fell  upon  the  dog  and  devoured  him. 

Now  came  the  elephant's  turn.  The  weasel  asked  his  help  against  the  lion, 
and  the  elephant  entered  as  protector  on  the  ground  of  the  lady  who  begged  for 
his  assistance.  But  he  did  not  know  the  weasel's  perfidy;  she  had  dug  a  great 
hole,  and  covered  it  over  with  leaves  and  branches.  The  elephant  fell  into  the 
pitfall,  and  was  killed  in  the  fall.  The  lion,  who  was  afraid  of  the  elephant, 
escaped  into  the  forest. 

The  weasel  then  took  the  elephant's  skin  and  showed  it  to  her  husband,  saying — 

"  I  asked  you  for  an  elephant's  skin  ;  with  the  assistance  of  heaven  I  have  got 
it,  and  I  bring  it  to  you." 


268  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

i 

The  weasel's  husband  had  never  thought  that  his  wife  was  cleverer  than  all 
the  other  animals,  still  less  had  he  thought  that  she  was  cleverer  than  himself. 
He  understood  it  all  then,  and  this  is  why  we  say,  "  He  is  as  sharp  as  a  weasel," 
or  "  Catch  a  weasel  asleep  !  " 

My  story  is  done. 


These  were  not  the  only  stories  that  I  heard  from  the  negroes.  I  soon  learned 
their  way  of  buying  and  selling,  their  ideas,  customs,  morality,  and  their  prov- 
erbs, and  I  profited  by  their  wisdom.  For  instance,  these  good  people,  who 
like  me  could  neither  read  nor  write,  have,  like  the  Arabs  and  Indians,  a  way  of 
impressing  things  on  their  children's  memory  ;  they  make  them  guess  riddles  ; 
and  some  are  worth  a  big  volume,  because  of  the  instruction  that  lies  in  them. 
So,  added  the  captain,  giving  me  a  punch  on  the  head,  which  was  a  great  mark 
of  affection  with  him,  you  guess  this :  "  Tell  me  what  it  is  that  I  love  ;  that 
loves  me,  and  always  does  what  pleases  me." 

"Your  dog,  captain.     You  were  looking  at  Fido  as  you  spoke." 

"  Bravo,  mate.  Let  us  go  on.  Tell  me  what  it  is  that  you  love  a  little,  and 
that  loves  you  very  much,  and  always  does  what  pleases  you  ?  You  give  it  up  ? 
It  is  your  mother,  my  little  fellow.  You  think  she  does  not  always  do  what  you 
like,  but  experience  will  teach  you  that  she  never  thinks  of  herself  when  it  is 
any  thing  that  concerns  you.  Tell  me  what  it  is  your  father  loves  very  much, 
which  loves  him  very  much,  and  always  makes  him  do  what  pleases  it  ?  " 

"  We  never  do  any  thing  to  papa  he  does  not  like,  captain.  Mamma  is  always 
saying  so.  But  my  sister  is  very  naughty,  and  she  always  laughs  when  mamma 
says  that." 

"  Then  your  sister  has  guessed  the  riddle,  mate.  Ah,  if  I  had  had  a  daughter, 
I  would  have  made  her  order  me  about  from  morning  till  night.  There  is  still 
another  riddle  for  you — What  is  that  one  likes,  or  does  not  like,  that  likes  one 
or  does  not  like  one,  but  who  always  makes  one  do  what  it  likes  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  captain." 

"Very  well,"  he  replied,  in  a  bantering  manner.  "Ask  your  father  this 
evening." 

I  did  not  fail  to  do  as  he  told  me,  and  at  table  I  related  all  I  had  learned  that 
day.  The  negro  stories  amused  my  mother  very  much,  the  riddles  were  a  com- 
plete success,  but  when  I  came  to  the  last  my  father  began  laughing. 

"  It  is  not  difficult  to  guess,  my  boy.     I  am  going  to  tell  it  to  you." 


Captain  John's   Travels.  269 

Whereupon  my  mother  looked  at  my  father.  I  do  not  know  what  he  read  in 
her  eyes,  but  he  stopped  short. 

"  Tell  it  me,  papa.     I  want  to  know." 

"  If  you  are  not  quiet,  sir,"  my  mother  said  to  me,  in  a  severe  tone,  "I  shall 
send  you  into  the  garden  without  any  dessert." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  my  father. 

"  That  '  Ah ! '  restored  my  courage.  I  came  down  with  my  fist  loud  on  the 
table,  and  cried,  "  Do  tell  me  the  answer,  father!  " 

My  mother  looked  as  though  she  were  about  to  rise,  but  my  father  anticipated 
her.  In  an  instant  I  found  myself  in  the  garden  in  tears,  and  with  a  large  slice 
of  dry  bread  in  my  hand. 

That  is  why  I  have  never  known  the  answer  to  that  last  riddle.  If  there  are 
cleverer  people  than  I,  let  them  guess  it,  if  not,  let  them  go  to  Senegal.  Perhaps 
the  tailor's  wife  will  tell  them  the  secret ;  my  mother  never  told  it  to  me. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CAPTAIN  JOHN'S  SECOND  VOYAGE. 

MY  conversation  with  the  negroes  had  made  me  both  an  interpreter  and  a 
trader.  The  captain  having  full  confidence  in  my  wisdom,  in  spite  of 
my  youth,  I  negotiated  with  all  the  dealers.  The  cargo  was  soon  shipped  on 
most  favorable  terms,  and  on  my  return  to  Marseilles  I  was  given,  besides  my 
pay,  a  handsome  present  by  the  ship  owners.  My  reputation  thus  made,  after  a 
few  voyages  in  the  Mediterranean,  I  was  offered  before  I  was  twenty  a  berth  as 
cupercargo  on  board  a  finely-built  brig  bound  for  the  East. 

My  own  industry  had  won  me  this  excellent  post.  Whenever  I  went  ashore  I 
made  acquaintance  with  seamen  from  all  parts  of  the  world — Greeks,  Levantines, 
Dalmatians,  Russians,  and  Italians,  and  I  could  speak  all  these  languages  a  little. 
The  vessel  was  on  its  way  to  fetch  a  cargo  of  wheat  from  the  Black  Sea  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Danube,  and  as  it  was  necessary  to  have  some  one  with  them  who 
could  jabber  a  good  many  languages,  I  was  of  use  to  them,  and  though  a  beard- 
less boy,  I  was  engaged.  So  it  came  about  that  I  found  myself  at  sea,  this 
time  on  my  own  account,  doing  an  honest  trading  business,  serving  only  duty  as 
my  master.  God  knows  I  spared  no  efforts  to  further  the  interests  of  my 


270  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

owners.  On  arriving  at  Constantinople  I  found  means  of  disposing  very  advaiv 
tageously  of  our  cargo,  and  we  set  sail  for  Galatz,  well  furnished  with  Spanish 
piasters  and  bills  of  exchange.  When  we  entered  the  Black  Sea  we  had  passen- 
gers  of  every  nation  and  every  tongue  on  board. 

One  of  the  most  singular  was  a  Dalmatian,  on  his  way  home  vid  the  Danube. 
He  used  to  sit  in  the  forecastle  all  day  long,  holding  between  his  legs  a  long 
violin  with  a  single  string,  which  the  Servians  call  a  guzla.  This  string  he  used 
to  scrape  with  a  bow,  while  he  sang  with  plaintive  voice,  in  a  soft  and  melodious 
language,  his  native  songs.  The  following,  which  he  used  to  chant  in  the  star- 
light evenings,  I  have  never  forgotten  : 

THE  SOLDIER'S  SONG. 

"  I  am  a  soldier  laa,  a  stranger  in  foreign  lands. 

When  to  my  good  father  I  bade  adieu,  the  moon  shone  in  the  heavens, 
The  moon  shines  in  the  heavens,  and  I  hear  my  father  weeping. 
When  to  my  mother  dear  I  bade  farewell,  the  sun  was  shining  in  the  heavens, 
The  sun  shines  in  the  heavens,  and  I  hear  my  mother  weeping. 
When  I  took  leave  of  my  beloved  brothers  the  stars  were  shining  in  the  heavens, 
The  stars  are  shining  in  the  heavens  and  I  hear  my  brothers  weeping. 
When  I  took  leave  of  my  beloved  sisters,  the  peonies  were  in  flower, 
The  peonies  bloom  now,  and  I  hear  my  sisters  weeping. 
When  I  took  leave  of  my  betrothed,  the  lilies  were  blooming  in  the  garden, 
The  lily  is  now  in  flower,  and  I  hear  my  betrothed  weeping. 
These  tears  must  be  dried  to-morrow,  I  journey  on, 
I  am  a  soldier  lad   ever,  ever  in  foreign  lands." 

The  Black  Sea  is  not  always  propitious  to  travelers.  I  have  traversed  our  two 
oceans  more  than  once,  and  know  their  stormy  natures,  but  I  am  less  afraid  of 
their  long  waves  that  break  against  the  ship,  than  of  the  short  quick  waves  that 
make  the  vessel  labor  and  roll,  as  they  suddenly  open  out  before  it  like  an 
abyss.  For  two  days  and  nights  we  were  in  great  peril.  Nobody  could  remain 
on  the  bridge  except  the  Dalmatian,  who  had  lashed  himself  by  his  sash  to  one 
of  the  benches,  and  who,  wet  as  he  was,  still  sang  his  national  songs. 

"  Dalmatian,"  I  took  the  opportunity  of  saying,  when  the  wind  and  sea  gave 
us  a  little  respite,  "  I  see  you  are  a  brave  fellow,  and  do  not  dread  a  shipwreck." 

"  Which  of  us  can  resist  one's  fate?  "  he  answered,  scraping  his  violin.  "  The 
wisest  thing  a  man  can  do  is  to  resign  himself  to  his  fate." 

"  Those  are  the  notions  of  a  Turk,"  I  replied.     "  Christians  are  not  so  patient." 

"  Why  should  a  Christian  not  be  resigned  to  God's  will  ?  "  he  returned.  "  God 
promises  us  heaven  if  we  act  as  we  should ;  He  never  promised  us  health,  riches, 


Captain  Johris   Travels.  271 

safety  at  sea,  or  any  such  temporal  benefits.  All  these  things  He  leaves  to  a 
secondary  power,  which  has  dominion  only  on  earth.  Those  who  know  it  person- 
ally call  it  Fate." 

"  What !  "  I  exclaimed,  "those  people  who  know  it?  Do  you  believe  in  the 
personality  of  Fate?" 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  answered  quietly ;  "  if  you  doubt  it,  listen  to  this  story. 
The  principal  actors  are  still  living  at  Cattaro.  They  are  cousins  of  mine,  and  I 
will  present  you  to  them  when  you  return." 

CHAPTER  VII. 

FATE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  were  two  brothers  who  kept  house  together.  One 
did  all  the  work,  while  the  other  was  lazy  and  thought  of  nothing  but 
eating  and  drinking.  Their  harvests  were  invariably  splendid,  and  they  owned  a 
great  number  of  cattle,  horses,  sheep,  and  pigs. 

The  elder,  who  did  all  the  work,  said  to  himself  one  day,  "Why  should  I  work 
for  that  lazy  fellow  ?  It  were  better  for  us  to  separate.  I  will  work  for  myself 
alone,  and  he  can  do  as  he  likes."  So  he  said  to  his  brother — 

"  Brother,  it  is  not  fair  that  I  should  do  all  the  work  while  you  never  put  out 
a  finger  to  help,  and  think  of  nothing  but  eating  and  drinking.  We  must 
separate." 

"  Do  not  do  that,  brother.  We  are  so  comfortable  as  we  are.  You  have  fhe 
ordering  of  every  thing,  and  every  thing  that  is  yours  is  mine,  and  you  know  I 
am  always  satisfied  with  whatever  you  do  and  whatever  you  order." 

But  the  elder  adhered  to  his  resolution,  so  his  younger  brother  gave  way 
saying — 

"  Since  it  must  be  so,  I  do  not  wish  to  show  you  any  ill  will.  Divide  the 
property  as  you  like." 

The  division  was  made,  and  each  of  them  chose  his  share.  The  lazy  one  took 
a  herdsman  for  his  cattle,  a  shepherd  for  his  sheep,  a  goatherd  for  his  goats,  a 
swineherd  for  his  pigs,  and  somebody  to  look  after  his  bees,  and  then  said  to 
them — 

"  I  trust  all  my  property  to  you.     Heaven  watch  over  you." 

And  he  went  on  living  in  his  house  as  before,  without  troubling  himself 
further. 

The  elder,  on  the  contrary,  wore  himself  out  over  his  share  of  the  property, 
as  much  as  he  had  formerly  done  over  the  whole  property,  for  he  herded  his 


272  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

flocks  and  herds  himself,  keeping  his  eye  on  every  thing.  Notwithstanding  this 
he  met  with  losses  and  misfortunes.  Day  after  day  every  thing  turned  out  badly 
with  him,  until  at  last  he  became  so  poor  that  he  had  not  even  a  pair  of 
opanques.1  He  had  to  go  barefoot.  Then  he  said — 

"  I  will  go  to  my  brother  and  see  how  things  are  prospering  with  him." 

His  road  led  him  through  a  meadow  where  a  flock  of  sheep  were  grazing,  and 
as  he  drew  near,  he  remarked  that  there  was  no  shepherd ;  but  seated  near  was  a 
beautiful  young  girl,  who  was  spinning  some  gold  thread  on  her  distaff. 

After  greeting  the  maiden  with  "  The  Lord  protect  thee  ! "  he  asked  her  to 
whom  the  flock  belonged,  and  she  answered — 

"  These  sheep  belong  to  the  same  person  to  whom  I  belong." 

"  And  who  art  thou  ?  "  he  continued. 

"  I  am  thy  brother's  fortune,"  she  replied. 

Whereupon  he  was  seized  with  anger  and  envy,  and  exclaimed — 

"And  my  fortune — mine  ;  where  is  she?  " 

The  maiden  replied — "  Ah,  she  is  a  long  way  off  from  thee." 

"Can  I  find  her?"  he  asked. 

And  she  answered,  "  Thou  canst,  only  thou  must  seek  her." 

When  he  heard  these  words,  and  saw  his  brother's  sheep  looking  so  well  to  do, 
finer  animals  it  was  impossible  to  imagine,  he  did  not  wish  to  go  further  and 
inspect  the  other  flocks  and  herds,  but  went  straight  to  his  brother.  As  soon  as 
the  latter  saw  him,  he  was  sorry  for  him,  and  melting  into  tears  said — 

"  Where  have  you  been  all  this  long  time  ?  " 

And  seeing  him  barefooted,  and  in  rags,  he  gave  him  a  pair  of  opanques  and 
some  money. 

After  resting  three  days  at  his  brother's  house  the  poor  man  returned  home, 
but  immediately  on  his  arrival  there  he  shouldered  a  knapsack,  put  in  it  a  piece 
of  bread,  and  with  a  stick  in  his  hand  started  off  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  world. 

After  walking  some  time  he  found  himself  in  a  great  forest,  where  he  suddenly 
came  upon  an  ugly  old  woman  asleep  under  a  bush.  He  began  poking  in  the 
earth  with  his  stick,  and  then  to  wake  the  old  woman  he  struck  her  on  the 
back.  Nevertheless  she  scarcely  stirred,  and  only  half  opening  her  blear  eyes 
she  said — 

"  Be  thankful  that  I  was  asleep,  for  if  I  had  been  awake  you  would  not  have 
had  those  opanques." 

'  Servian  shoes,  made  of  leather  thongs. 


Captain  Johns   Travels. 


273 


Whereupon  he  said,  "  Who  art  thou,  who  could  have  prevented  my  having 
these  opanques  ?  " 

The  old  woman  answered  "  I  am  thy  fortune." 

On  hearing  these  words 
he  struck  his  breast  and 
cried — 

"  How,  thou  art  my 
fortune  !  Curse  thee  ! 
Who  gave  thee  to  me  ?  " 

And  the  old  woman 
replied,  "  Fate." 

"  Where  does  Fate 
dwell  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Go  and  discover  for 
thyself,"  she  replied, 
slumbering  once  more. 

So  he  set  off  in  search 
of  Fate.  After  travel- 
ing a  long,  long  time  he 
came  to  a  wood,  and  in 
this  wood  he  found  a 
hermit,  of  whom  he  in- 
quired if  he  could  give 
him  any  news  of  Fate. 
The  hermit  replied — 

"  Ascend  that  mount- 
ain and  you  will  arrive  at 
his  castle,  but  when  you 
have  met  with  Fate  I 
advise  you  not  to  speak 
with  him  ;  only  do  the 
same  as  he  does  until  he 
addresses  you." 

The  traveler  thanked  the  hermit  and  took  the  road  to  the  mountain.  When 
he  reached  the  Castle  of  Fate  he  saw  many  beautiful  things.  What  royal  mag- 
nificence abounded  there,  and  what  a  crowd  of  lackeys  and  servants  were  there, 
who  were  always  moving  here  and  there  but  did  nothing !  Fate  himself  was 
seated  at  table  at  supper.  When  the  newcomer  saw  this  he  too  placed  himself 


274  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

at  table  and  joined  the  master  of  the  house  at  his  meal.  After  supper  Fate 
retired  to  rest,  and  his  guest  followed  his  example.  Toward  midnight  there 
was  a  tremendous  uproar  in  the  castle,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  uproar  a  voice 
was  heard  crying — 

"  Fate,  Fate,  so  many,  many  souls  have  been  born  to-day,  give  them  something 
at  thy  will  and  pleasure  !  " 

So  Fate  rose  up,  opened  a  gilt  coffer,  and  scattered  shining  ducats  about  the 
apartment,  saying  as  he  did  so — 

"  Such  as  I  am  to-day,  such  you  will  be  all  your  life  !  " 

At  daybreak  the  fine  castle  disappeared,  and  in  its  place  stood  an  ordinary 
house,  but  every  thing  in  it  was  on  a  very  comfortable  scale.  When  evening 
came  Fate  seated  himself  again  at  the  supper  table,  and  his  guest  did  the  same. 
Neither  of  them  spoke  a  word,  and  after  supper  both  went  to  bed. 

Toward  midnight  the  dreadful  uproar  was  again  heard,  and  in  the  midst  of 
the  noise  a  voice  cried — 

"  Fate,  Fate,  many  souls  have  seen  the  light  to-day,  give  them  something  at 
thy  will  and  pleasure  ! " 

So  Fate  rose  up,  opened  a  silver  coffer,  but  this  time  there  were  no  ducats,  but 
only  silver  pieces,  mixed  here  and  there  with  a  few  gold  ones.  Fate  scattered 
the  money  on  the  ground  saying — 

"Such  as  I  am  to-day,  such  shall  you  be  all  your  life  !  " 

At  daybreak  the  house  had  disappeared,  and  in  its  place  stood  another  smaller 
one.  Each  night  passed  in  the  same  manner,  and  each  morning  the  house  grew 
smaller  and  smaller,  until  at  last  there  was  only  a  miserable  hut.  Fate  took  a 
spade  and  set  to  work  to  dig  the  ground,  while  his  guest  did  the  same,  and  they 
dug  all  day.  When  evening  came  Fate  took  a  crust  of  dry  bread,  broke  it  in 
half  and  gave  the  half  to  his  companion.  This  was  all  their  supper,  and  after 
they  had  eaten  they  retired  to  rest. 

Toward  night  a  terrible  noise  was  heard,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  noise  a  voice 
could  be  distinguished  saying — 

"  Fate,  Fate,  so  many  souls  have  been  born  into  the  world  to-night,  give  them 
something  at  thy  will  and  pleasure." 

Whereupon  Fate  rose,  opened  a  coffer,  and  began  scattering  some  stones,  and 
among  them  a  few  little  coins,  saying  as  he  did  so— 

"  Such  as  I  am  to-day,  such  shall  you  be  all  your  life." 

When  morning  again  broke  the  hut  was  changed  into  a  great  palace  like  on 
the  first  day.  Then  for  the  first  time  Fate  addressed  his  guest  and  said— 


Captain  John's  Travels.  275 

"  Why  did  you  come  ?  " 

Our  traveler  told  him  at  full  length  all  his  misfortunes,  and  how  he  had  come 
to  ask  Fate  himself  why  he  had  allotted  him  such  bad  fortune,  and  Fate  replied — 

"  You  saw  the  first  night  how  I  scattered  ducats,  and  what  followed.  What  I 
am  the  night  a  man  is  born  such  will  that  man  be  all  his  life.  You  were  born  in 
a  night  of  poverty,  so  you  will  be  poor  all  your  life.  Your  brother,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  born  on  a  lucky  night,  and  he  will  be  lucky  to  the  end.  But  since  you 
have  taken  so  much  trouble  in  seeking  me  I  will  tell  you  how  you  can  do  the 
best  for  yourself.  Your  brother  has  a  daughter  named  Miliza  who  is  as  fortu- 
nate as  her  father.  Marry  her  when  you  return  home,  but  be  careful  to  say 
every  thing  that  you  become  possessed  of  is  your  wife's." 

The  guest  thanked  Fate  warmly,  and  took  his  leave.  On  his  return  home  he 
went  straight  to  his  brother  and  said — 

"  Brother,  give  me  Miliza  for  wife.  You  see  that  without  her  I  am  alone  in 
the  world." 

And  his  brother  answered — 

*'  I  shall  be  delighted.     Miliza  is  yours." 

The  bridegroom  led  home  the  maiden  and  became  very  rich,  but'  he  always 
said — 

"  All  that  I  have  is  Miliza's." 

One  day  as  he  was  going  to  the  fields  to  see  how  his  corn  was  growing,  it  was 
as  fine  as  he  could  wish  to  see  it,  a  traveler  passed  and  inquired — 

"  To  whom  do  these  corn-fields  belong?  " 

And  without  thinking  he  answered,  "  To  me." 

But  scarcely  were  the  words  out  of  his  mouth  before  the  corn  caught  fire  and 
the  field  was  all  in  a  blaze.  Quickly  he  ran  after  the  traveler  and  cried— 

"  Stop,  friend,  this  corn  does  not  belong  to  me,  but  to  Miliza,  my  wife." 

The  fire  ceased  instantly,  and  since  then  our  hero  has  been  lucky,  thanks  to 
Miliza. 

"Dalmatian,"  I  said  to  my  narrator,  "your  story  is  a  pretty  one,  but  it  has  a 
very  Turkish  flavor.  In  my  country  we  have  other  notions.  We  put  away  from 
us  the  idea  of  luck,  and  rely  on  ourselves,  on  our  cleverness  even  more  than  our 
strength,  on  our  prudence  even  more  than  our  courage.  So  in  my  country  we 
pay  dear  for  good  advice." 

"  So  do  we  too,"  replied  the  Dalmatian,  settling  his  fur  cap  which  was  falling 
over  his  eyes.  "  Listen  to  what  happened  a  year  ago  to  one  of  my  neighbors." 


276  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THERE  lived  near  Ragusa,  a  farmer  who  went  in  for  trade.  One  day  he  set 
off  for  the  town,  carrying  with  him  all  his  money,  intending  to  make  some 
purchases.  On  arriving  at  a  cross-road  he  inquired  of  an  old  man  who  was  there 
which  road  he  ought  to  take. 

"  I  will  tell  you  if  you  will  give  me  a  hundred  crowns,"  replied  the  stranger. 
"  I  never  speak  for  less  than  that.  Each  piece  of  advice  of  mine  is  worth  a 
hundred  crowns." 

"  The  devil !  "  thought  the  farmer,  looking  attentively  at  the  stranger's  coun- 
tenance, which  was  rather  fox-like.  "  What  advice  can  that  be  that  is  worth  a 
hundred  crowns?  It  ought  to  be  something  very  much  out  of  the  common,  for 
in  general  one  gets  advice  for  nothing.  It  is  true  it  is  not  worth  more.  Come," 
said  he  to  the  man,  "  speak,  here  are  your  hundred  crowns." 

"  Listen,"  replied  the  stranger,  "  the  road  which  is  quite  straight  is  the  road 
for  to-day,  and  that  which  makes  a  curve  is  the  road  for  to-morrow.  I  have 
still  another  piece  of  advice  to  give  you,"  he  continued,  "  but  you  must  pay  me 
another  hundred  crowns." 

The  farmer  considered  a  long  time,  then  he  made  up  his  mind. 

"  As  I  have  paid  for  the  first  piece  of  advice  I  may  as  well  pay  for  the  second." 
And  he  paid  down  another  hundred  crowns. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  stranger,  "when  you  are  traveling  and  enter  an  inn,  if 
the  landlord  is  old  and  the  wine  new,  make  haste  out  again  if  you  do  not  wish 
some  misfortune  to  happen  to  you.  Give  me  another  hundred  crowns,"  added 
he,  "  for  I  have  something  more  to  say  to  you." 

The  farmer  thought  a  while. 

"  What  can  this  fresh  piece  of  advice  be  ?  Bah  ?  As  I  have  already  paid  for 
two  I  may  as  well  pay  for  the  third."  And  he  gave  his  last  hundred  crowns. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  stranger,  "  if  ever  you  are  in  a  passion,  keep  half  your 
anger  for  the  next  day  ;  do  not  expend  all  your  wrath  in  one  day." 

The  farmer  wended  his  way  home  empty-handed. 

"  What  have  you  bought  ?  "  inquired  the  wife. 

"  Nothing  but  three  pieces  of  advice,"  he  answered,  "which  have  each  cost 
me  a  hundred  crowns." 

"  Good  heavens !    Wasting  your  money  and  throwing  it  into  the  sea  as  usual/* 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  277 

My  dear  wife,"  quietly  replied  the  farmer,  "  I  do  not  regret  my  money.  You 
will  see  the  fruit  of  the  advice  for  which  I  have  paid." 

And  he  narrated  all  that  had  passed,  whereupon  his  wife  shrugged  her 
shoulders  and  called  him  a  foolish  fellow,  who  ruined  his  house  and  brought  his 
children  to  beggary. 

Some  time  afterward  a  merchant  stopped  at  the  farmer's  gate  with  two  wagons 
full  of  merchandise.  He  had  lost  his  partner  on  the  road,  and  offered  the  farmer 
fifty  crowns  if  he  would  take  charge  of  one  of  the  wagons  and  come  with  him  to 
the  town. 

"  I  hope,"  said  the  farmer's  wife  to  her  husband,  "  that  you  will  not  refuse ; 
this  time  any  how  you  will  earn  something." 

So  they  set  off,  the  merchant  driving  the  first  wagon,  the  farmer  the  second. 
The  weather  was  bad,  and  the  roads  much  broken  up,  and  they  got  on  very 
slowly.  At  last  they  arrived  where  the  two  roads  met ;  the  trader  asked  which 
was  the  one  for  them  to  take. 

"  This  one,"  said  the  farmer,  pointing  to  the  to-morrow  road ;  "  it  is  the  longer 
but  the  safer  one." 

The  trader  wanted  to  take  the  other  road. 

"  If  you  would  give  me  a  hundred  crowns,"  said  the  farmer, "  I  would  not  go  by 
that  road." 

So  they  separated.  The  farmer,  who  had  chosen  the  longest  route,  arrived, 
however,  much  before  his  companion,  without  his  wagon  having  suffered,  while 
the  merchant  only  reached  the  town  at  nightfall,  his  wagon  having  stuck  in  a 
bog  ;  all  his  wares  were  damaged,  and  he  himself  hurt  into  the  bargain. 

At  the  first  inn  where  they  stopped  the  landlord  was  old,  and  a  pine-branch 
announced  the  fact  that  here  new  wine  was  sold  cheap.  The  merchant  wished 
to  put  up  here  for  the  night. 

"  I  would  not  do  it— not  if  you  gave  me  a  hundred  crowns,"  exclaimed  the 
farmer. 

And  he  hastened  off,  leaving  his  companion. 

Toward  evening  some  idle  young  men,  who  had  drunk  too  much  new  wine, 
began  quarreling  for  some  trifling  reason.  They  drew  their  knives,  and  the 
landlord,  enfeebled  by  advancing  years,  had  not  the  strength  to  separate  the 
combatants,  or  to  pacify  them.  A  man  was  killed  in  the  fray,  and  fearing  to  be 
brought  to  justice  they  hid  the  corpse  in  the  merchant's  wagon. 

The  latter,  having  slept  well  and  heard  nothing  of  all  this,  rose  early  in  the 
morning  to  put  his  horses  to.  Terrified  at  finding  the  dead  body  of  a  man  in 


278  Laboulaye 's  Fairy   Tales. 

his  wagon,  he  wanted  to  get  away  as  quickly  as  possible  in  order  to  avoid  being 
mixed  up  in  a  long  trial ;  but  he  had  not  reckoned  on  the  Austrian  police  which 
were  on  his  track,  and  who  confiscated  all  his  goods,  and  threw  him  into  prison 
to  wait  there  until  the  affair  could  be  brought  to  justice. 

When  the  farmer  learned  what  had  happened  to  his  companion,  being  anxious 
to,  at  all  events,  put  his  wagon  in  safety,  he  took  the  road  home.  As  he  drew 
near  his  garden,  he  perceived  in  the  twilight  a  young  soldier  in  one  of  his  finest 
plum  trees  calmly  enjoying  the  stolen  fruit.  The  farmer  loaded  his  gun  to  shoot 
the  thief,  but  he  suddenly  remembered. 

"  I  have  paid  a  hundred  crowns,"  thought  he,  "to  learn  that  I  must  not  expend 
all  my  anger  in  one  day.  I  will  wait  till  to-morrow,  no  doubt  the  thief  will 
come  back." 

He  took  a  dttour  so  as  to  enter  his  house  another  way,  and  as  he  knocked  at 
the  door  a  young  soldier  threw  himself  into  his  arms,  crying — 

"  Father,  I  have  profited  by  my  leave  to  take  you  and  my  mother  by  surprise." 

Whereupon  the  farmer  said  to  his  wife — • 

"  Now  listen  to  all  that  has  happened  to  me,  and  you  will  see  if  I  have  paid 
too  dear  for  those  three  pieces  of  advice." 

And  he  related  every  thing.  As  the  unfortunate  merchant  was  hanged,  not- 
withstanding all  he  could  do,  the  farmer  found  himself  his  heir.  Become  a  rich 
man,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  constantly  repeating  that  no  one  can  pay  too  dear  for 
good  advice,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  his  wife  agreed  with  him. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THREE  DALMATIAN  STORIES. 

4  T7RIEND,"  I  said,  when  he  had  ended  his  tale,  "  no  doubt  that  is  a  very 
1  good  tale,  but  it  was  not  fate  which  made  that  wise  farmer's  fortune,  but 
foresight  and  prudence.  Your  second  story  contradicts  your  first,  and  fortu- 
nately too,  for  it  would  be  distressing  to  think  that  idle  folk  should  make  their 
fortunes  while  industrious  people  who  sow  grain  should  only  reap  the  wind." 

"  Idle  people  do  succeed  sometimes,"  he  answered,  gravely.  "  I  know  an  ex- 
ample  of  that  fact  which  I  could  tell  you." 

"You  have  stories  Apropos  to  every  thing,"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Songs  and  stories.     Such  is  life,"  he  answered  coldly. 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  279 


THE  IDLE  MAIDEN. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  mother  who  had  an  exceedingly  idle  little 
daughter,  who  had  no  taste  for  any  sort  of  work.  She  led  her  into  a  wood  near 
a  cross-road,  and  there  beat  her  with  all  her  might.  A  nobleman,  who  by  chance 
was  passing  by  at  the  time,  asked  the  mother  the  reason  of  this  severe  punish- 
ment. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  she  replied,  "  my  daughter  is  perfectly  unendurable  ;  she  would 
spin  even  the  moss  on  the  stones." 

"  Trust  her  to  me,"  said  the  nobleman,  "  and  I  will  give  her  hemp  to  spin  to 
her  heart's  content." 

"  Take  her,"  said  the  mother,  "  take  her;  I  do  not  want  any  thing  more  to  do 
with  her." 

And  the  nobleman  led  her  away  to  his  house,  delighted  with  his  beautiful 
acquisition. 

The  same  evening  he  shut  up  the  maiden  all  alone  in  a  room  where  there  was 
a  great  basket  full  of  hemp.  This  troubled  her  very  much. 

"What  shall  I  do ?"  she  cried.  "I  will  not  spin!  I  do  not  know  how  to 
spin ! " 

But  as  night  drew  on,  three  old  witches  rapped  at  the  window,  and  the  maiden 
bade  them  come  in  quickly. 

"  If  you  will  invite  us  to  your  wedding,"  they  said  to  her,  "  we  will  help  you 
to  spin  this  evening." 

"  Spin  away,  dames,"  she  quickly  replied,  "  I  invite  you  to  my  marriage." 

And  thereupon  the  three  witches  spun  and  spun  all  there  was  in  the  basket, 
while  the  idle  maid  slept  peacefully. 

In  the  morning,  when  the  master  entered  the  apartment,  he  saw  the  walls  hung 
round  with  thread,  and  the  maiden  fast  asleep.  So  he  went  out  again  very 
softly  and  forbade  any  body  to  enter  the  room,  in  order  that  the  spinner  might 
rest  after  such  severe  labor.  This  did  not  prevent  him  having  a  second  basket 
full  of  hemp  brought  in  the  same  day,  but  the  witches  came  at  the  appointed 
hour  and  every  thing  took  place  as  on  the  previous  day. 

The  nobleman  was  overpowered  with  astonishment,  and  as  he  had  nothing 
more  to  spin  in  the  house,  he  said  to  the  maiden — 

"  I  wish  to  marry  you,  for  you  are  the  queen  of  spinners." 

The  eve  of  the  wedding  the  pretended  spinner  said  to  her  betrothed — 


a8o  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

"  I  must  invite  my  aunts  to  my  marriage." 

And  the  nobleman  replied  that  they  would  be  very  welcome. 

When  they  arrived,  the  three  witches  seated  themselves  round  the  stove. 
They  were  hideous,  and  when  the  bridegroom  caught  sight  of  their  frightful 
countenances,  he  said  to  his  betrothed — 

"Your  aunts  are  not  beautiful." 

Then  approaching  the  first  one,  he  asked  her  why  her  nose  was  so  long. 

"My  dear  nephew,"  she  answered,  "it  is  because  I  am  always  spinning. 
When  one  spins  and  moves  one's  head  all  day,  insensibly  one's  nose  lengthens." 

The  gentleman  passed  on  to  the  second  witch,  and  asked  her  why  she  had 
such  thick  lips. 

"  My  dear  nephew,"  she  replied,  "  it  is  from  spinning.  When  one  is  always 
spinning,  and  all  day  long  moistening  one's  thread,  insensibly  one's  lips  thicken." 

Then  he  asked  the  third  why  she  was  humpbacked. 

"  My  dear  nephew,"  she  said,  "  it  is  from  spinning.  When  one  stoops  all  day 
long,  gradually  the  back  grows  crooked." 

Then  the  nobleman  was  very  much  afraid  lest  his  wife  from  overmuch  of  spin- 
ning should  grow  as  hideous  as  her  three  aunts,  so  he  threw  her  distaff  and 
spinning  wheel  into  the  fire.  Let  those  who  are  like  the  idle  maiden  guess  if 
she  was  sorry. 

My  story  is  ended. 


"  I  am  pleased  to  see,"  I  said  to  my  Dalmatian  friend,  "  that  in  your  fortunate 
country  women  can  succeed  in  life  without  possessing  any  wit  and  without 
giving  themselves  any  trouble." 

"  Not  at  all,"  exclaimed  my  irrepressible  story-teller,  "  there  is  no  part  of  the 
world  where  the  women  are  at  the  same  time  so  wise  and  so  keen-witted.  Do 
you  not  know  how  the  beggar's  daughter  married  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  and 
proved  herself  better  and  cleverer  than  he  ?  " 

"  Yet  another  story  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  No,  not  a  story  this  time,"  he  replied,  "  but  a  true  narrative  which  you  will 
find  recorded  in  any  reliable  history." 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  281 

THE  MAIDEN  WHO  WAS  WISER  THAN  AN  EMPEROR. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  poor  man  who  lived  in  a  hut.  He  had  but  one 
child,  a  daughter,  but  she  was  very  wise.  She  used  to  beg  for  alms  every-where, 
and  taught  her  father  to  speak  wisely  and  so  obtain  what  he  wanted.  One  day 
it  happened  that  the  poor  man  went  to  the  emperor  and  begged  him  to  give 
him  something. 

The  emperor,  surprised  at  the  beggar's  manner  of  speech,  inquired  of  him  who 
he  was,  and  who  had  taught  him  to  express  himself  so  well. 

"  My  daughter  taught  me,"  he  answered. 

" And  who  taught  your  daughter?"  asked  the  emperor;  to  which  the  poor 
man  replied — 

"  It  was  God  and  our  extreme  penury  that  taught  her." 

Then  the  emperor  gave  him  thirty  eggs  and  said — 

"  Take  these  eggs  to  your  daughter,  and  tell  her  that  she  is  to  hatch  me  the 
chickens,  and  if  she  does  not  succeed  in  hatching  them,  she  will  suffer  for  it." 

The  poor  man  returned  weeping  to  his  hut  and  told  his  daughter  all.  The 
maiden  saw  at  once  that  the  eggs  had  been  boiled,  but  she  told  her  father  to  go 
and  lie  down  ;  she  would  manage  every  thing.  Her  father  followed  her  advice 
and  went  to  bed.  She,  meanwhile,  taking  a  sauce-pan,  filled  it  with  water  and 
beans,  and  put  it  on  the  fire. 

The  next  morning  when  the  beans  were  boiled,  she  called  her  father  and  told 
him  to  take  the  oxen  and  plow,  and  then  sow  the  beans,  and  to  say  aloud, 
"  Come  on,  oxen,  may  the  Lord  protect  me  and  make  my  boiled  beans  grow ! " 

"  And  if  the  emperor  asks  you  how  it  is  possible  to  make  boiled  beans  grow, 
answer  that  it  is  as  easy  as  to  make  a  chicken  come  out  of  a  boiled  egg." 

The  poor  man  did  as  his  daughter  said ;  he  went  out  and  plowed,  and  when 
he  saw  the  emperor,  he  began  crying — 

"  Come,  my  oxen,  and  may  the  Lord  protect  me,  and  make  my  boiled  beans 
grow !  ' 

As  soon  as  the  emperor  heard  these  words,  he  stopped  on  the  road  and  said — 

"  Poor  fool,  how  is  it  possible  to  make  boiled  beans  grow  ?  " 

And  the  poor  man  replied — 

"  Gracious  emperor,  it  is  as  easy  as  to  make  a  chicken  come  out  of  a  boiled 

egg." 

The  emperor  guessed  that  it  was  the  daughter  who  had  put  her  father  up  to 


282  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

this,  and  he  told  his  attendants  to  take  the  poor  man  and  bring  him  to  him ;  then 
giving  him  a  small  packet  of  hemp  he  said — 

"  Take  this  and  make  out  of  it  sails,  ropes,  and  every  thing  that  is  wanted  for 
a  ship.  If  you  do  not  I  will  cut  off  your  head." 

The  poor  man,  in  great  trouble,  took  the  parcel,  and  returned  in  tears  to  his 
daughter,  to  whom  he  related  all  that  had  passed.  His  daughter  told  him  to  go 
to  sleep,  promising  that  she  would  manage  every  thing.  Next  day  she  took  a 
small  piece  of  wood,  and,  waking  her  father,  said — 

"  Take  this  match  to  the  emperor,  and  tell  him  to  make  me  a  spindle,  a  shut- 
tle, and  a  loom  out  of  it,  and  after  that  I  will  do  what  he  said." 

The  poor  man  once  more  followed  his  daughter's  advice  ;  he  went  to  the 
emperor,  and  repeated  what  she  had  told  him. 

When  the  emperor  heard  it,  he  was  astonished,  and  racked  his  brain  to  think 
what  he  should  do  next ;  then  taking  a  drinking  glass,  he  gave  it  to  the  man, 
saying— 

"  Take  this  glass  to  your  daughter,  and  tell  her  to  empty  the  sea  and  make  it 
arable  land." 

The  poor  man  obeyed  weeping,  and  carried  the  glass  to  his  daughter,  repeat- 
ing  word  for  word  what  the  emperor  said.  The  maiden  told  him  to  wait  till 
the  next  day,  and  she  would  manage  it  all.  The  following  morning  she  called 
her  father  and  gave  him  a  pound  of  tow,  and  said — 

"Take  this  to  the  emperor  for  him  to  stop  up  all  the  springs  and  mouths  of 
all  the  rivers  on  the  globe,  and  after  that  I  will  dry  up  the  sea." 

So  the  poor  man  went  and  repeated  this  to  the  emperor,  who,  seeing  that  the 
maiden  knew  more  than  he  did,  gave  orders  for  her  to  be  brought  to  him.  When 
the  father  had  fetched  his  daughter,  and  both  had  made  obeisance  to  the 
emperor,  the  latter  said — 

"  My  daughter,  tell  me  what  is  heard  from  furthest  off  ?  " 

The  maiden  replied — 

"  Gracious  emperor,  the  thunder  and  a  lie  is  what  is  heard  from  furthest." 

Then  the  emperor,  taking  hold  of  his  beard,  and  turning  to  his  ministers, 
said — 

"  Tell  me  what  my  beard  is  worth?  " 

And  when  they  had  all  estimated  it,  some  more,  some  less,  the  maiden  main- 
tained  that  none  of  them  had  guessed  rightly,  and  went  on  to  say — 

"  The  emperor's  beard  is  worth  three  showers  in  a  dry  summer." 

The  emperor  was  enchanted  at  this  and  said — 


Captain  John's   Travels. 


283 


"  She  has  rightly 
guessed." 

And  he  asked  her 
if  she  would  be  his 
wife,  adding  that  he 
would  not  let  her  go 
until  she  consented. 

The  maiden  cour- 
tesied  and  replied — 

"  Gracious  emperor, 
let  it  be  as  you  wish. 
I  only  ask  you  to 
write  on  a  piece  of 
paper  with  your  own 
hand  that  if  one  of 
these  days  you  grow 
unkind  and  wish  to 
get  rid  of  me  and  send 
me  away  from  the 
palace,  I  am  to  have 
the  right  to  take  with 
me  whatever  I  love 
best." 

The  emperor 
agreed,  and  gave  her 
a  document  sealed 
with  red  wax  and 
stamped  with  the 
great  seal. 

After  some  time,  it 
came  indeed  to  pass 
that  the  emperor  grew  unkind  to  his  wife  and  said  to  her — 

"  I   no    longer   wish   you    for   wife.     Leave   my   palace   and   go   where  you 
will !  " 

And  the  empress  replied  :     "  Illustrious  emperor,  I  obey ;  only  permit  me  to 
pass  one  more  night  here  and  to-morrow  I  will  go." 

The  emperor  granted  her  request,  whereupon  the  empress  before  supper  mixed 


284  Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales. 

some  brandy  and  scented  herbs  with  the  wine,  then  pressing  the  emperor  to 
drink,  she  said — 

"  Drink,  my  friend,  and  be  merry.  Tomorrow  we  shall  part,  and,  believe  me, 
I  shall  be  happier  than  the  day  I  married  you." 

The  emperor  had  no  sooner  drunk  the  wine  than  he  fell  asleep,  whereupon  the 
empress  had  him  placed  in  a  carriage  which  was  in  readiness,  and  carried  him  off 
in  it  to  a  grotto  hewn  out  of  a  rock.  When  the  emperor  awoke  and  saw  where 
he  was,  he  cried — 

"  Who  has  brought  me  here  ?  " 

To  which  the  empress  answered— 

"  It  was  I  who  brought  you." 

And  the  emperor  said :  "  Why  have  you  done  that  ?  Have  I  not  told  you 
that  you  are  no  longer  my  wife  ?  " 

Then  she  handed  him  the  document,  saying — 

"  It  is  true  you  said  that,  but  see  what  you  promised  me  in  this  writing.  On 
leaving  you  I  was  to  have  the  right  to  take  away  with  me  whatever  I  loved  best 
in  your  palace." 

When  the  emperor  heard  that,  he  embraced  her,  and  they  returned  together 
to  the  palace,  never  more  to  part. 

"  Marvelous  story-teller !  "  I  said.  "  I  withdraw  all  that  I  have  said  about  the 
Dalmatian  ladies.  I  see  that  from  the  borders  of  the  Adriatic  to  the  shores  of 
Africa,  and  perhaps  elsewhere,  women  are  the  household  masters.  There  is  no 
harm  in  that.  Happy  those  who  exercise  this  gentle  sway  !  Happier  those  who 
allow  themselves  to  be  thus  governed ! " 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  Dalmatian,  always  ready  to  contradict  me.  "  With 
us  the  men  are  always  masters.  We  dine  alone  at  table,  and  our  wives  standing 
behind  us  are  there  to  wait  upon  us." 

"  That  proves  nothing,"  I  replied.  "  More  than  one  man,  married  or  un- 
married, is  his  servant's  servant.  The  slave  is  not  always  he  who  wears  the  chain." 

"  If  you  want  a  proof,"  exclaimed  my  incorrigible  Dalmatian,  "  listen  to  what 
my  father  once  told  me.  I  have  always  suspected  that  the  excellent  man  was 
the  hero  of  his  own  tale." 

"  Still  another  story !  "  I  replied,  impatiently. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  this  is  the  last  and  the  best.  Here  we  are  in  sight  of  the  mouth 
of  the  Danube ;  to-morrow  we  shall  separate,  probably  never  again  to  meet  here 
below— so  listen  patiently  to  this  last  lesson." 


Captain  Johris  Travels.  285 

THE  LANGUAGE  OF  ANIMALS. 

Once  upon  a  time,  there  was  a  shepherd  who  had  served  his  master  most 
zealously  and  faithfully  for  many  years.  One  day,  as  he  was  tending  his  sheep, 
he  heard  a  hissing  sound  issuing  from  a  wood  close  by,  and  not  knowing  what  it 
eould  be,  he  entered  the  forest,  following  the  direction  whence  the  sound  came, 
to  find  out  the  reason  of  it.  As  he  drew  near,  he  saw  that  the  dry  grass  and 
fallen  leaves  had  caught  fire,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  circle  of  flames  he  espied  a 
snake  which  was  hissing  loudly.  The  shepherd  stopped  to  see  what  the  snake 
would  do,  for  the  creature  was  completely  surrounded  by  flames,  which  were 
drawing  closer  and  closer  to  it.  As  soon  as  the  snake  caught  sight  of  the  shep- 
herd, it  cried  out — 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  shepherd,  save  me  from  the  fire  !  " 

The  shepherd  stretched  out  his  crook  over  the  flames,  and  the  snake,  twining 
itself  round  the  stick,  climbed  up  to  the  shepherd's  hand  ;  from  his  hand  it 
slipped  up  to  his  neck,  and  wound  itself  round  him  like  a  necklace.  When  the 
shepherd  saw  this  he  was  terrified,  and  said  to  the  snake — 

"  Bad  luck  to  me  !     Have  I  saved  you  to  my  own  destruction  ?  * 

The  creature  answered  :  "  Fear  nothing,  but  carry  me  back  to  my  father  the 
snake-king." 

Whereupon  the  shepherd  began  to  excuse  himself  on  the  score  of  not  being 
able  to  leave  his  sheep,  but  the  snake  said — 

"  Do  not  disturb  yourself  about  your  flock ;  no  harm  will  happen  to  them. 
Only  go  as  fast  as  you  can." 

So  the  shepherd  set  off  running  through  the  wood  with  the  snake  round  his 
neck,  until  he  arrived  at  a  gate  which  was  formed  of  adders  intertwined.  The 
snake  hissed,  and  immediately  the  adders  separated  themselves,  and  then  it  said 
to  the  shepherd — 

"  When  we  get  to  the  castle  my  father  will  offer  you  every  thing  that  you 
could  possibly  desire — silver,  gold,  jewels,  and  every  thing  in  the  world  that  is 
precious — but  accept  nothing ;  ask  him  to  make  you  able  to  understand  the 
language  of  animals.  He  will  refuse  you  this  favor  for  a  long  time,  but  in  the 
end  he  will  grant  it." 

While  it  was  speaking,  they  reached  the  castle,  and  the  snake's  father  said, 
weeping — 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  my  child,  where  have  you  been?" 


286  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

The  snake  related  to  him  how  it  had  been  surrounded  by  fire,  and  how  the 
shepherd  had  saved  it.  The  snake-king,  then  turning  to  the  shepherd,  said— 

"  What  do  you  wish  me  to  give  you  for  having  saved  my  child's  life  ?  " 

"  Teach  me  the  language  of  animals,"  replied  the  shepherd.  "  I  wish  to  be 
able  to  talk,  like  you,  with  every  creature  on  the  earth." 

The  king  said  :  "  That  will  be  worth  nothing  to  you,  for  if  I  grant  you  the  gift  of 
understanding  this  language,  and  you  retail  this  to  any  one,  you  will  be  a  dead 
man  on  the  spot.  Ask  me  some  other  thing  which  will  be  more  useful  to  you, 
and  I  will  give  it  to  you." 

But  the  shepherd  answered  :  "  If  you  wish  to  pay  me,  teach  me  the  language 
of  animals  ;  if  not,  farewell,  and  may  heaven  protect  you.  I  wish  for  nothing 
else/' 

And  he  made  as  though  he  would  leave  them.  Then  the  king  called  him 
back  saying — 

"  Stop,  and  come  here,  since  you  insist  upon  it.     Open  your  mouth." 

The  shepherd  opened  his  mouth,  and  the  snake-king  blew  into  it  and  said: 

"  Now  blow  in  your  turn  into  mine." 

When  the  shepherd  had  done  what  he  was  told,  the  snake-king  blew  a  second 
time  into  his  mouth.  And  when  they  had  each  blown  at  the  other  three  times, 
the  king  said — 

"  Now  you  understand  the  language  of  animals  ;  but  if  you  wish  to  live, 
beware  of  betraying  this  secret,  for  if  you  breathe  a  word  of  it  to  any  one  you 
are  a  dead  man." 

The  shepherd  then  returned,  and  as  he  passed  through  the  woods  he  under- 
stood all  that  the  birds  said,  and  the  grass  said,  and  the  language  of  all  creation. 
On  coming  back  to  his  flock  he  found  it  all  safe  and  sound,  so  he  stretched  him- 
self on  the  ground  to  go  to  sleep.  Scarcely  had  he  lain  down  when  two  crows 
came  and  perched  on  a  tree  near,  and  said  in  their  language — 

"  If  this  shepherd  only  knew  that  there,  where  the  black  lamb  is,  there  lies  a 
cellar  underground  full  of  gold  and  silver ! " 

Directly  the  shepherd  heard  that  he  went  to  seek  his  master,  and  together  they 
took  a  cart,  and  then  digging  in  the  place  indicated,  they  found  the  door  of  the 
cellar  and  carried  off  the  treasure. 

The  master  was  a  worthy  man,  and  he  left  it  all  to  the  shepherd,  saying— 

"My  son,  the  treasure  is  yours,  for  God  has  given  it  to  you." 

The  shepherd  took  the  treasure,  built  a  house,  and  marrying  shortly  after,  he 
lived  contented  and  happy.  He  was  soon  the  richest  man,  not  only  of  the 


Captain  John's  Travels.  287 

village,  buc  of  the  whole  neighborhood.  For  ten  leagues  round  there  was  not 
another  to  compare  with  him.  He  had  flocks  and  herds  and  horses  ;  every  herd 
had  its  herdsman  ;  he  had  besides  a  great  deal  of  land  and  great  riches. 

One  day,  it  being  Christmas  Eve,  he  said  to  his  wife,  "  Prepare  wine  and 
brandy  and  all  that  is  necessary,  for  to-morrow  we  will  go  to  the  farm,  and  we 
will  carry  it  to  the  shepherds  so  that  they  may  make  holiday." 

His  wife  obeyed  the  order,  and  prepared  all  as  she  had  been  told.  The  next 
evening,  when  they  were  at  the  farm,  the  master  said  to  the  shepherds — 

"  My  friends,  enjoy  yourselves,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry.  I  will  watch  this 
night  and  take  care  of  the  flocks  and  herds  in  your  place." 

He  did  what  he  had  said,  and  watched  the  flocks.  When  midnight  came,  the 
wolves  began  to  howl  and  the  dogs  to  bark ;  the  wolves  were  saying  in  their 
language — 

"  Let  us  come  and  do  some  mischief ;  there  will  be  some  meat  for  you  too." 

And  the  dogs  answered  in  their  language,  "  Come,  we  want  a  good  meal  once 
in  a  way." 

But  among  the  dogs  there  was  an  old  bull-dog  who  had  but  two  fangs  left 
in  his  mouth,  and  he  said  to  the  wolves — 

"  As  long  as  I  have  two  fangs  left  in  my  mouth  you  shall  not  do  my  master 
any  harm." 

The  master  had  heard  and  understood  all  this  talking;  so  when  morning  came 
he  gave  orders  for  all  the  dogs  to  be  killed  with  the  sole  exception  of  the  old 
bull-dog. 

Much  astonished,  his  servants  said,  "  Master,  it  is  a  great  pity,"  but  he 
answered,  "Do  as  I  tell  you." 

He  then  made  ready  to  return  home  with  his  wife,  and  both  set  off,  the  hus- 
band mounted  on  a  fine  gray  horse,  his  wife  seated  on  an  ambling  nag  which  was 
completely  covered  by  the  long  folds  of  her  gown.  As  they  went  along,  it  hap- 
pened that  the  husband  was  in  front  and  his  wife  behind.  His  horse  turned 
round  and  said  to  the  mare — 

"  Come  on,  quick  !     Why  are  you  so  slow  ?  " 

The  mare  answered,  "  Oh  yes,  that  is  easy  enough  for  you  who  have  only  the 
master  to  carry,  but  as  for  me,  along  with  my  mistress,  I  carry  necklaces  and 
bracelets,  skirts  and  petticoats,  keys,  and  any  number  of  bags.  It  would  require 
four  oxen  to  draw  all  this  woman's  paraphernalia  comfortably." 

The  master  turned  back  laughing,  and  his  wife,  seeing  this,  pushed  on  her 
nag,  and,  on  joining  her  husband,  inquired  of  him  why  he  had  laughed. 


288  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"Oh,  for  nothing;  an  idea  merely  passed  through  my  mind." 

His  wife  did  not  approve  of  this  answer,  and  she  pressed  her  husband  to  tell 
her  why  he  had  laughed.  But  he  would  not,  and  said — 

"  Leave  me  in  peace,  woman,  what  is  it  to  you  ?  Good  heavens  !  I  do  not 
even  know  myself  why  I  laughed." 

The  more  he  defended  himself,  the  more  she  insisted  on  knowing  the  reason 
why  he  laughed.  At  last  he  said — 

"  Well,  know  then,  that  if  I  tell  you  what  made  me  laugh,  I  should  die  the 
same  instant." 

But  that  had  no  effect  upon  his  wife ;  she  teased  her  husband  more  than  ever 
to  speak. 

At  length  they  reached  home  ;  and  on  dismounting,  the  husband  gave  orders  for 
a  bier  to  be  made.  When  it  was  ready,  he  placed  it  in  front  of  the  house,  and 
said  to  his  wife — 

"  Look,  I  am  going  to  get  inside  this  coffin,  and  I  will  then  tell  you  what 
made  me  laugh  ;  but  directly  I  have  spoken  I  shall  be  a  dead  man." 

He  then  placed  himself  in  the  coffin,  and  as  he  was  gazing  for  the  last  time 
around  him  the  bull-dog  approached  his  master  weeping.  When  the  poor  man 
saw  him,  he  called  his  wife  and  said — 

"  Bring  a  piece  of  bread  and  give  it  to  the  poor  old  fellow." 

The  woman  brought  a  piece  of  bread  to  the  dog,  but  he  did  not  even  look  at 
it ;  whereupon  the  cock  of  the  house  ran  up  and  pecked  at  the  bread,  and  the 
dog  said — 

"  Greedy  wretch,  can  you  eat  when  you  see  the  master  is  going  to  die  ?  " 

"  Let  him  die !  "  answered  the  cock,  "since  he  is  silly  enough  to  do  so.  I  have 
a  hundred  wives  :  I  call  them  all  when  I  find  the  smallest  grain,  and  as  soon  as 
they  come  I  eat  it  myself.  If  one  of  them  dared  to  think  this  a  shame,  I  should 
chastise  it  with  my  beak  ;  and  as  for  the  master,  who  has  only  one  wife,  he  has 
not  the  wit  to  bring  her  to  reason,," 

Directly  the  husband  heard  this,  he  sprang  out  of  the  bier,  took  a  stick  in  his 
hand,  and  called  his  wife  into  the  room. 
•     "  Come,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  so  much  want  to  know." 

He  then  answered  her  with  a  stick,  saying,  "  Take  that,  and  that,  wife !  ° 

In  this  way  she  had  her  answer,  and  never  since  has  the  wife  asked  her 
husband  why  he  laughed. 


Captain  Johns   Travels.  289 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  END. 

SUCH  was  the  Dalmatian's  last  story,  and  it  was  the  last  the  captain  told  me 
that  day.  The  next  day  he  related  others  to  me,  and  the  day  after  more 
still.  The  old  mariner  was  right,  his  library  was  indeed  inexhaustible ;  his 
memory  never  failed  him,  and  his  words  flowed  on  uninterruptedly ;  but  always 
being  told  tales  is  wearisome  to  the  reader — besides,  something  must  be  kept 
back  for  next  year.  Perhaps  then  we  may  meet  the  captain  again,  and  learn 
some  lessons  from  his  gentle  wisdom. 


PERLINO. 


A  NEAPOLITAN  STORY. 


"  '  Grandmother,  why  do  you  laugh  so  much  ?  " 
*  Because,  if  I  did  not,  I  should  weep,  my  child ! ' " 

—Little  Red  Riding  Hood.    (Bulgarian  Versioa.) 
i 

CHAPTER  I. 

SIGNORA   PALOMBA. 

THAT  truly  wise  man,  Cato,  has  said,  I  do  not  know  where,  that  there  were 
three  things  he  repented  of  in  his  life :  the  first  was  having  confided  a 
secret  to  a  woman,  the  second  that  he  had  once  spent  an  entirely  idle  day,  and 
the  third  that  he  traveled  by  sea  when  he  could  have  traveled  by  land.  Cato's 
first  two  subjects  of  regret  I  let  pass — it  is  never  wise  to  be  on  bad  terms  with 
the  gentler  sex,  and  it  is  not  every  one  who  has  the  right  to  inveigh  against  idle- 
ness— but  the  third  maxim  ought  to  be  inscribed  in  letters  of  gold  on  the  deck 
of  every  vessel  as  a  warning  to  the  venturesome.  For  want  of  not  remember- 
ing this  piece  of  advice  I  have  often  traveled  by  sea,  for  the  experience  of 
others  is  not  of  more  use  to  us  than  our  own.  But  no  sooner  do  we  leave  the 
harbor  than  I  recall  it  to  mind  ;  and  how  many  times  at  sea,  as  well  as  elsewhere, 
has  it  not  been  borne  in  upon  me;  but,  alas,  too  late,  that  I  am  not  Cato ! 

One  day,  in  particular,  I  remember  I  did  full  justice  to  the  old  Roman's 
wisdom.  I  had  left  Salerno  in  brilliant  sunshine,  but  no  sooner  were  we  well 
out  to  sea  than  a  squall  surprised  us,  and  drove  us  towards  Amalfi  with  a  rapidity 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  291 

by  no  means  desired  by  us.  In  an  instant  I  noticed  the  crew  began  to  gesticu. 
late,  and  cry,  and  swear,  and  pray,  and  their  bronzed  cheeks  took  a  paler  hue. 
and  after  that  I  saw  nothing.  Beaten  by  the  wind  and  rain,  and  soaked  through 
to  the  skin,  I  lay  stretched  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  with  my  eyes  shut, 
mortally  sick,  having  completely  forgotten  that  I  was  on  a  pleasure  trip,  when 
a  rough  shock  having  brought  me  to  myself,  I  felt  myself  seized  by  a  strong 
hand.  Standing  over  me  and  pulling  me  up  by  my  shoulders  was  the  skipper, 
with  a  jovial  mien  and  kindling  eyes.  "  Courage,  your  Excellency,"  he  ex- 
claimed, helping  me  on  to  my  feet,  "  the  boat  is  now  ashore,  and  we  are  at 
Amalfi.  Stand  up  !  A  good  dinner  will  soon  put  you  to  rights.  The  storm 
has  passed  away,  and  this  evening  we  will  go  on  to  Sorrento !  " 

Time,  tide,  a  fool,  a  woman,  and  fortune 

Veer  round  like  the  wind  and  change  like  the  moon. 

I  quitted  the  boat,  dripping  like  Ulysses  after  his  shipwreck,  and,  like  him, 
very  much  inclined  to  kiss  the  solid  ground.  Before  me  stood  the  four  sailors, 
each  shouldering  an  oar,  and  ready  to  escort  me  in  triumph  to  the  Moon  Inn, 
which  was  perched  on  a  height.  Its  white-washed  walls  glistened  in  the  sunshine 
like  snow  on  the  mountains.  I  followed  my  escort,  but  not  with  the  pride  of  a 
conqueror.  Sadly  and  slowly  I  climbed  an  endless  stair,  and  gazed  at  the 
waves  which  dashed  on  the  shore  as  if  furious  at  having  allowed  us  to  escape. 
At  last  I  reached  the  osteria.  It  was  high  noon ;  all  the  world  was  asleep,  even 
the  kitchen  was  deserted,  and  there  was  only  a  brood  of  skinny  fowls  to  greet 
me,  which  became  noisy  at  my  approach,  like  the  geese  of  the  Capitol.  I  passed 
through  the  frightened  group  to  take  refuge  on  a  terrace  exposed  to  the  sun, 
and  there  taking  possession  of  a  chair  I  sat  astride  on  it,  and  leaning  my  arms 
and  head  on  the  back,  I  set  myself,  not  to  think,  but  to  dry,  while  the  house, 
town,  and  sea,  and  even  the  sky,  went  on  spinning  round  me. 

{  was  lost  in  reverie  when  the  landlady  of  the  osteria  approached  me,  treading 
the  floor  with  her  slippered  feet  with  the  dignity  of  a  queen.  No  one  who  has 
visited  Amalfi  can  ever  forget  the  immensely  tall  and  majestic  Palomba. 

"  What  does  your  Excellency  wish  ?"  she  asked,  in  a  sharper  tone  than  usual, 
herself  answering  the  question :  "  to  provide  dinner  is  impossible,  for  the  fisher- 
men have  not  gone  to  sea  at  this  unlucky  time,  and  there  is  no  fish  to  be  had." 

"  Signora,"  I  replied,  without  lifting  my  head,  "  give  me  any  thing  you  like— 
soup,  macaroni,  it  does  not  matter  which  ;  I  have  more  need  of  sun  than  of 
dinner." 


2Q2 


Perlino. 


The  worthy  Palomba  gazed  at  me  with  mingled  astonishment  and  pity. 
"  Pardon,  your  Excellency,"  she  said ;  "  I  thought  you  were  English  by  the 
red  book  in  your  pocket.  Ever  Since  that  hateful  book,  which  tells  every  thing, 
praised  the  fish  at  Amalfi,  every  English  milord  will  have  nothing  else  for  dinner 
but  what  this  book  recommends.  But  since  you  are  reasonable,  we  will  do  our 
best  to  please  you  ;  only  have  patience." 

Whereupon  the  ex- 
cellent woman,  seiz- 
ing hold  of  two  chick- 
ens which  were  puling 
round  me,  wrung  their 
necks  before  I  had 
time  to  prevent  the 
murder  of  which  I 
was  the  accomplice ; 
then  seating  herself 
near  me,  she  set  to- 
work  to  pluck  her  two 
victims  with  the  calm- 
ness of  a  noble  mind. 
"  Signor,"  she  said 
after  a  minute,  "  the 
cathedral  is  open  ;  all 
strangers  go  and  see 
it  before  dinner." 

My    only     answer 
was  a  sigh. 

«  Excellency,"  add- 

I  Mi  BBi     ed  the  worthy Palom- 

ba,  who,  no  doubtr 
found  me  in  the  way 
of  her  culinary  prep- 
arations, "  have  you 
visited  the  new  road 
that  leads  to  Salerno  ? 
There  is  a  splendid 
view  to  be  had  from  it  of  the  sea  and  islands." 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales.  293 

"  Alas,"  I  thought,  "  I  ought  to  have  taken  that  road  this  morning  in  a  car- 
riage,"  and  I  did  not  answer. 

"  Excellency,"  went  on  the  landlady  in  a  louder  voice,  thoroughly  determined 
to  get  rid  of  me,  "  it  is  market-day  to-day.  'Tis  a  pretty  sight,  beautiful 
costumes,  and  the  market-women  have  such  a  flow  of  language — and  then  the 
oranges  !  One  can  get  a  dozen  for  a  carlin  !  " 

Her  trouble  was  in  vain ;  I  should  not  have  stirred  for  the  Queen  of  Naples 
herself. 

"  Well,  then  !  "  exclaimed  my  hostess,  whose  patience  was  getting  exhausted, 
"you  are  faster  asleep  than  Perlino  when  he  drank  his  solution  of  gold." 

"What  Perlino?     What  Perlino  ?  "  I  murmured,  opening  one  languid  eye. 

"  What  Perlino  1 "  replied  Palomba  ;  "  are  there  two  in  history?  Why,  there 
is  not  a  child  of  four  years  old  to  be  found  here  who  does  not  know  his  adven- 
tures ;  and  is  it  possible  that  a  learned  gentleman  like  your  Excellency  has  not 
heard  of  them  ?  " 

"  Just  tell  it  me  as  if  I  had  never  heard  it  before,  excellent  Palomba ;  I  will 
listen  with  the  greatest  interest  to  your  tale." 

The  good  woman  began  it  with  all  the  gravity  of  a  Roman  matron.  The  story 
was  pretty  ;  perhaps  the  chronology  left  something  to  be  desired,  but  in  this 
touching  tale  Palomba  gave  proof  of  such  thorough  knowledge  of  men  and 
things,  that  gradually  I  raised  my  head,  and,  fixing  my  eyes  upon  her  who  no 
longer  looked  at  me,  I  listened  attentively  to  what  follows. 


CHAPTER  II. 

VIOLETTA. 

u  T  F  we  are  to  believe  our  elders,  Paestum  used  to  be  very  different  from  what 
1  it  is  now.  There  are  now,  say  the  fishermen,  but  three  old  ruins  remain- 
ing,  where  only  fever,  buffaloes,  and  Englishmen  are  to  be  found  ;  formerly  it 
was  a  great  town  with  a  number  of  inhabitants.  That  was  a  long  time  ago, 
about  the  time  of  the  patriarchs,  when  all  the  country  belonged  to  the  Greek 
pagans,  whom  some  people  call  Saracens. 

"  At  that  time  there  lived  at  Paestum  a  merchant  who  was  as  good  as  bread, 
sweet  as  honey,  and  rich  as  the  sea.  His  name  was  Cecco.  He  was  a  widower, 
and  had  only  one  daughter,  whom  he  cherished  as  the  apple  of  his  eye.  Violetta.^ 


294  Perlino. 

for  such  was  the  name  of  this  beloved  child,  was  as  white  as  milk,  and  as  red  as 
strawberries.  She  had  long  black  hair,  eyes  of  heavenly  blue,  velvety  cheeks 
like  a  butterfly's  wing,  and  a  tiny  mole  for  a  beauty-spot  at  the  corner  of  her 
mouth.  Add  to  all  this  the  temper  of  a  demon,  the  grace  of  a  Taglioni,  the  form 
of  a  Venus,  and  the  fingers  of  a  fairy,  and  you  will  understand  how  young  and 
old  fell  in  love  with  her  at  first  sight. 

"  When  Violetta  was  fifteen,  Cecco  was  very  anxious  she  should  marry.  This 
was  a  great  trouble  to  him.  '  The  orange-tree/  thought  he,  '  opens  its  flower  to 
the  sun  without  knowing  who  will  gather  it ;  so  a  father  brings  up  a  daughter, 
and,  for  long  years,  cherishes  her  like  the  apple  of  his  eye,  in  order  that,  one  fine 
day,  a  stranger  may  steal  his  treasure  without  even  a  "  Thank  you."  Where  can 
I  find  a  husband  worthy  of  my  Violetta?  No  matter,  she  is  rich  enough  to 
choose  one  to  please  herself ;  clever  and  beautiful  as  she  is,  she  would  tame  a 
tiger  if  it  was  her  business  to  do  so.' 

"So  the  good  Cecco  often  tried  to  talk  about  marriage  to  his  daughter;  but 
he  might  just  as  well  have  thrown  his  discourses  into  the  sea.  As  soon  as  evef 
he  touched  on  that  topic,  Violetta  drooped  her  head  and  complained  of  a  head- 
ache. Her  poor  father,  more  troubled  than  a  monk  who  loses  his  memory  in  the 
middle  of  his  sermon,  used  directly  to  change  the  conversation,  and  draw  from 
his  pocket  some  present  for  her  which  he  always  kept  in  reserve.  Sometimes  it 
was  a  ring,  or  a  chaplet,  or  a  gold  thimble.  Violetta  would  then  embrace  him, 
and  a  smile  would  return  to  her  lips,  like  sunshine  after  rain. 

"  One  day,  however,  Cecco,  more  prudent  than  usual,  had  begun  where  he 
usually  left  off,  and  Violetta  held  in  her  hand  so  lovely  a  necklace  that  she  had 
difficulty  in  being  sick  or  sorry,  and  thus  the  worthy  man  returned  to  the 
charge. 

"  '  O  my  love,  and  joy  of  my  heart,'  he  said,  caressing  her,  'staff  of  my  old  age, 
crown  of  my  white  hairs,  am  I  never  to  see  the  day  when  I  shall  be  called  grand- 
father  ?  Do  you  not  feel  that  I  am  growing  old  ?  My  beard  is  getting  gray, 
and  warns  me  every  day  that  it  is  time  that  I  should  choose  a  protector 
for  you. 

"  '  Why  not  do  like  all  other  girls?  Does  it  kill  them  to  marry?  What  is  a 
husband  ?  He  is  a  bird  in  a  cage  who  sings  as  one  wishes  him  to.  If  your  poor 
mother  were  still  alive,  she  would  tell  you  that  she  never  had  to  cry  to  get  her 
own  way.  She  was  always  queen  and  empress  at  home.  I  did  not  dare  to  breathe 
in  her  presence  any  more  than  I  dare  in  yours,  and  I  cannot  get  accustomed  to 
my  liberty.' 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  295 

"  '  Father,'  said  Violetta,  taking  him  by  the  chin,  'you  are  master,  and  it  is 
for  you  to  command.  Dispose  of  my  hand  as  you  choose.  I  will  marry  when- 
ever  you  wish  and  whoever  you  like.  I  only  ask  one  thing.' 

" '  Whatever  it  is,  you  shall  have  it/  exclaimed  Cecco,  charmed  at  a  good 
sense  to  which  he  was  not  accustomed. 

"'Very  well,  dear  father.  All  I  ask  is  that  the  husband  you  give  me  shall 
not  have  a  face  like  a  dog.' 

"  '  What  a  childish  idea  ! '  cried  the  merchant,  beaming  with  pleasure.  *  How 
true  it  is  that  beauty  and  folly  usually  go  together!  Though  you  have  not 
your  mother's  wit,  still  you  need  not  be  quite  foolish !  Do  you  think  that  a 
sensible  man  like  myself,  do  you  think  that  the  richest  merchant  in  Paestum 
would  be  so  stupid  as  to  accept  for  a  son-in-law  a  man  with  a  face  like  a  dog? 
Make  yourself  happy  on  that  score.  I  will  choose  for  you,  or  rather  you  shall 
choose  for  yourself,  the  handsomest  and  most  amiable  man  you  can  find  for  your 
husband.  If  you  must  have  a  prince,  I  am  rich  enough  to  buy  one.' 

"  A  few  days  later,  Cecco  gave  a  grand  dinner.  He  invited  the  most  eligible 
young  men  for  twenty  leagues  round.  The  banquet  was  gorgeous,  every  body 
ate  a  great  deal  and  drank  even  more,  and  each  guest  thoroughly  enjoyed  him- 
self, and  talked  freely  and  without  reserve.  When  dessert  was  on  the  table, 
Cecco  withdrew  to  a  corner  of  the  apartment,  and  taking  Violetta  on  his  knee, 
whispered  to  her: 

"  '  My  dear  child,  look  at  that  good-looking  young  man,  with  blue  eyes  and  his 
hair  parted  down  the  middle.  Do  you  think  any  woman  could  be  unhappy  with 
such  an  angel  ? ' 

"  '  You  cannot  be  thinking  of  him  for  my  husband,  father,'  answered  Violetta 
smiling,  '  he  is  just  like  a  grayhound.' 

"  '  That  is  true,'  exclaimed  Cecco,  '  he  has  just  the  head  of  a  grayhound  !  How 
could  that  have  escaped  me  ?  But  that  handsome  officer  with  the  low  forehead, 
short  neck,  prominent  eyes,  and  broad  chest,  there  is  a  man  for  you,  what  do 
you  say  to  him  ?  ' 

"'Why,  father,  he  is  for  all  the  world  like  a  mastiff!  I  should  always  be 
afraid  of  his  biting  me.' 

" '  He  really  is  rather  like  a  mastiff,"  replied  Cecco  sighing,  "  we  will  not 
speak  of  him,  perhaps  you  would  prefer  somebody  graver  and  older.  If  women 
knew  how  to  choose  they  would  never  have  a  husband  who  was  less  than  forty. 
Up  to  that  age  women  only  find  dandies  who  allow  themselves  to  be  adored, 
and  it  is  only  when  a  man  has  reached  forty  that  he  is  capable  of  loving  and 


296  Per  lino. 

obeying.  What  do  you  say  to  that  judge,  who  talks  so  well  and  likes  to  hear 
himself  talk?  His  hair  is  getting  gray,  but  what  does  that  matter?  A  man  is 
not  wiser  with  gray  hairs  than  he  is  with  black.' 

" '  You  are  not  keeping  your  promise,  father.  Do  you  not  see  that  with  his 
red  eyes  and  his  white  curls  over  his  ears  that  man  looks  like  a  poodle  dog? ' 

"  It  was  the  same  with  all  the  guests ;  not  one  escaped  the  lash  of  Violetta's 
tongue.  This  one,  who  sighed  trembling,  was  like  a  Turkish  dog,  and  that  one 
with  long  black  hair  and  gentle  eyes,  had  the  face  of  a  spaniel.  Nobody  was 
spared.  In  fact  people  say  that  among  all  you  men  there  is  not  one  who  does 
not  resemble  some  dog  or  other  when  a  hand  is  placed  under  his  nose  and  his 
mouth  and  chin  are  covered. 

"  You  ought  to  know  this,  you  signori,  who  are  so  learned,  for  people  say  that 
you  come  to  poke  about  the  stones  of  our  Italy  to  ask  of  our  dead  men  for 
wisdom,  which,  according  to  my  opinion,  cannot  be  a  common  article  in  your 
country. 

"  '  Violetta  is  really  too  clever,'  thought  Cecco,  '  I  shall  never  get  her  to  listen 
to  reason  ;  whereupon  he  went  into  a  violent  passion,  called  her  obstinate,  un- 
grateful, empty-headed,  and  silly,  and  finished  by  threatening  to  put  her  in  a 
convent  for  the  rest  of  her  life.  Violetta  wept,  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  im- 
plored his  pardon,  and  promised  never  to  answer  him  again.  The  next  morning 
he  rose,  after  a  wakeful  night,  embraced  his  daughter,  thanked  her  for  not  having 
red  eyes,  and  quietly  waited  until  the  wind  which  turns  all  weathercocks  should 
blow  from  the  other  side  of  his  house. 

"This  time  he  was  not  wrong.  More  things  happen  in  one  hour  with  women 
than  happen  in  ten  years  with  men.  '  No  thoroughfare '  was  never  written  for 
them. 


CHAPTER  III. 

BIRTH  AND  BETROTHAL  OF  PERLINO. 


ONE  day  there  happened  to  be  a  fair  in  the  neighborhood,  and  Cecco 
asked  his  daughter  what  she  would  like  him  to  bring  her. 
Father,'  she  said, '  if  you  love  me  bring  me  half  a  cantaro  of  Palermo  sugar,  and 
as  many  sweet  almonds ;  added  to  that,  five  or  six  bottles  of  perfume,  a  little 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


297 


musk  and  amber,  about  thirty  or  forty  pearls,  two  sapphires,  a  handful  of  gar- 
nets and  rubies  ;  and  bring  me  also  a  dozen  skeins  of  gold  thread,  ten  yards  of 
green  velvet,  a  piece  of  cherry  colored  silk,  and  be  sure  you  do  not  forget  a 
watering-pot  and  silver  trowel.' 

"The  merchant  was  amazed  at  his  daughter's  whims,  and  the  astounding 
variety  of  her  orders ;  but  he  had  been  too  good  a  husband  not  to  know  that  in 
dealing  with  women  it  is  better  to  obey  them  than  to  reason  with  them,  so  he 
returned  home  in  the  evening  with  a  mule  heavily  laden.  What  would  he  not 
have  done  to  win  a  smile  from  his  child  ? 

"As  soon  as  Violetta  received  all  these  presents  she  went  up  to  her  room,  and 
set  to  work  to  make  a  paste  of  sugar  and  almonds,  which  she  sprinkled  with  rose; 
water  and  jasmine  scent.  Then,  like  a  potter  or  sculptor,  she  kneaded  this 
paste  with  her  silver  trowel,  and  molded  the  most  beautiful  little  man  that  it  is 
possible  to  imagine.  She  made  the  hair  with  threads  of  gold,  the  eyes  with 
sapphires,  the  teeth  with  pearls,  the  tongue  and  lips  with  rubies;  after  which  she 
dressed  him  in  velvet  and  silk,  and  christened  him  '  Perlino,'  because  he  was  pink 
and  white  like  mother-of-pearl. 

"  When  she  had  completed  her  masterpiece  and  placed  it  on  the  table,  Violetta 
clapped  her  hands  and  began  dancing  round  Perlino.  She  sang  to  him  the 
sweetest  little  songs,  addressed  the  tenderest  words  to  him,  and  blew  him  kisses 
enough  to  quicken  a  piece  of  marble  into  life ;  but  all  in  vain,  the  doll  never 
stirred.  Violetta  cried  with  vexation ;  when  all  at  once,  she  remembered  that 
she  had  a  fairy  godmother.  What  god- 
mother, especially  a  fairy  one,  refuses  the 
first  request  offered  her?  And  hereupon 
my  heroine  begged  so  fervently,  that  her 
godmother  heard  her  two  hundred  leagues 
off,  and  granted  her  request.  She  blew, 
and  a  fairy  need  do  nothing  more  to  work 
wonders.  Suddenly  Perlino  winked  one 
eye,  then  both,  turned  his  head  right  and 
left,  then  he  sneezed  exactly  like  any  body 
else;  then,  while  Violetta  laughed  and 
cried  for  delight,  Perlino  walked  on  the 
table  with  his  little  steps  as  gravely  as  a 
duenna  returning  from  church,  or  a  judge 
mounting  the  bench. 


298  Perlino. 

"  More  enchanted' than  if  she  had  won  the  kingdom  of  Italy  in  a  lottery,  Vio- 
letta  lifted  up  Perlino  in  her  arms,  kissed  him  on  both  cheeks,  and  set  him 
gently  on  the  ground;  then,  holding  her  gown  with  both  hands,  she  began 
dancing  round  him  as  she  sang : 

"  Dance  away,  O  dance  with  me  ! 
Dear  Perlino,  while  I  sing. 
Dance  away,  O  dance  with  me ! 
If  for  thee  I  wear  the  ring. 
Dance  away,  O  dance  with  me  ! 
I  the  Queen,  and  thou  the  King* 

"  We  both  shall  taste  the  sweets  of  life, 
Joy  of  my  eyes,  behold  thy  wife  ! 
We'll  leap,  and  bound, 
And  dance  around. 
This  our  life  shall  be. 
Only  obey  and  humor  me, 
My  little  husband  constantly, 
And  gods  of  our  felicity 
Shall  envious  be. 

'  Dance  away,  O  dance  with  me  ! 
Dear  Perlino,  while  I  sing. 
Dance  away,  O  dance  with  me  ! 
If  for  thee  I  wear  the  ring. 
Dance  away,  O  dance  with  me ! 
I  the  Queen,  and  thou  the  King." 

"  Cecco,  who  was  going  over  his  accounts  because  he  thought  it  very  hard  not 
to  have  made  more  than  a  million  ducats  in  the  year,  could  hear  in  his  counting. 
house  the  noise  that  was  going  on  overhead.  '  Per  Baccho ! '  he  exclaimed, 
'there  is  something  odd  going  on  up  there.  I  think  they  must  be  quar- 
reling.' 

"  He  went  up  stairs,  and,  pushing  open  the  door,  the  prettiest  sight  in  the 
world  met  his  eyes.  Facing  his  daughter,  who  was  rosy  with  pleasure,  was 
Cupid  personified — Cupid  in  a  doublet  of  silk  and  velvet.  His  two  hands  in  the 
hands  of  his  little  mistress,  Perlino,  jumping  both  feet  at  once,  danced  and 
danced  as  if  he  would  never  stop. 

"  As  soon  as  Violetta  caught  sight  of  her  father,  she  made  him  a  low  courtesy, 
and,  presenting  her  lover  to  him,  '  My  lord  and  father,'  she  said, '  you  have  always 
told  me  that  you  wanted  to  see  me  married.  To  obey  and  please  you,  I  have 
chosen  a  husband  after  my  own  heart.' 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  299 

" '  You  have  done  well,  my  child,'  replied  Cecco,  who  guessed  the  mystery. 
'  Every  woman  should  take  example  by  you.  I  know  more  than  one  who  would 
cut  off  a  finger,  and  that  not  a  little  one,  in  order  to  manufacture  a  husband  . 
exactly  to  their  taste,  a  little  husband  all  made  of  sweetmeats  and  orange- 
flowers.  Tell  them  your  secret,  you  will  dry  many  tears.  For  two  thousand 
years  they  have  been  pitying  themselves,  and  they  will  still  be  pitying  them- 
selves in  the  course  of  another  two  thousand  years  for  being  misunderstood  and 
sacrificed.' 

"  Whereupon  he  embraced  his  son-in-law,  betrothed  them  on  the  spot,  and 
asked  for  two  days  to  prepare  for  the  wedding.  It  required  as  much  time  aa 
that  in  which  to  invite  all  their  friends  round,  and  to  prepare  a  banquet  that 
should  not  be  unworthy  of  the  richest  merchant  of  Paestum. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


PERLINO   IS   CARRIED   OFF. 

u  PEOPLE  came  from  far  and  near  to  see  such  a  novelty  in  the  way  of  wed- 
1   dings.     Rich  or  poor,  young  or  old,  friends  or  rivals,  every  one  wanted  to 
see  Perlino.     Unfortunately  there  is  never  a  wedding  but  the  deuce  is  in  it ;  and 
Violetta's  godmother  had  not  foreseen  what  would  happen. 

Among  the  guests  was  a  person  of  great  importance — the  Marchioness  of 
Silver  Crowns.  She  was  very  wicked  and  very  old,  her  skin  was  yellow  and 
wrinkled,  she  had  a  hooked  nose  and  pointed  chin  and 
hollow  eyes,  but  she  was  so  amazingly  rich  that  every 
one  bowed  down  to  her  and  -disputed  the  honor  of 
kissing  her  hand.  Cecco  greeted  her  with  a  most  rev- 
erential bow,  and,  placing  her  on  his  right  hand,  pre- 
sented his  daughter  and  son-in-law  to  the  lady,  who, 
having  more  than  a  hundred  millions,  did  him  the 
honor  of  dining  at  his  table. 

"  During  all  the  time  of  the  banquet  Lady  Silver 
Crowns   could   not   take   her  eyes   off   Perlino.     She 
longed  to  possess  him. 
The  Marchioness  lived   in  a  castle  that  was  worthy  of  Fairyland.     It  was 


300  Perlino. 

built  of  gold,  and  the  paving  stones  were  of  silver.  In  this  castle  there  was  a 
gallery  in  which  she  had  collected  every  curiosity  in  the  world— a  clock  which 
always  struck  the  houi  you  wished,  an  elixir  which  cured  gout  and  sick  headache, 
a  philter  which  changed  sorrow  into  joy,  a  Cupid's  arrow— in  fact  every  thing 
that  nobody  has  ever  seen,  or  ever  will  see,  anywhere  else — but  there  still  wanted 
a  gem  to  this  treasure-house,  and  that  was  Perlino. 

"  Dessert  had  not  been  put  on  the  table  before  the  lady  had  made  up  her  mind 
to  carry  him  off.  She  was  very  avaricious,  but  whatever  she  wanted  she  would 
have,  at  no  matter  what  price.  She  bought  every  thing  that  was  to  be  sold,  and 
what  was  not  for  sale  she  stole,  being  quite  sure  that  at  Naples  justice  was  only 
for  poor  and  insignificant  people. 

"  The  proverb  says,  '  From  an  ignorant  doctor,  an  ill-tempered  mule,  and  a 
wicked  woman,  the  Lord  deliver  us.'  As  soon  as  they  rose  from  the  table  the 
lady  went  up  to  Perlino,  who,  having  only  been  born  three  days,  was  not  aware 
of  the  wickedness  there  is  in  the  world.  She  told  him  of  all  the  beautiful  and 
grand  things  that  were  in  the  Castle  of  Silver  Crowns. 

" '  Come  with  me,  my  dear  young  friend,'  she  said,  '  and  I  will  give  you  what- 
ever place  you  like  in  my  household.  Choose  which  you  would  like  to  be  ;  a 
page  dressed  in  silk  and  gold,  or  a  chamberlain  with  a  key  in  diamonds  in  the 
middle  of  your  back,  or  the  porter  with  a  silver  halberd  and  a  wide  gold  shoulder 
belt  which  will  make  you  shine  brighter  than  the  sun  ?  Say  the  word  and  your 
wish  shall  be  granted.' 

"  The  poor  innocent  boy  was  quite  dazzled,  but,  though  he  had  only  breathed 
his  native  air  so  short  a  time,  still  he  was  a  Neapolitan,  that  is  to  say,  very  far 
from  stupid. 

"  '  Madam,'  he  replied,  simply,  '  people  say  that  work  is  for  oxen,  and  that  there 
is  nothing  so  healthful  as  repose.  I  should  prefer  a  post  where  there  is  nothing 
to  be  done  and  a  great  deal  to  be  earned,  like  the  canons  of  St.  Jannarius.' 

"  '  What ! '  said  the  Marchioness,  '  do  you  wish  to  be  a  senator  already  at  your 
age  ?  " 

"  *  Exactly  so,  madam,'  interrupted  Perlino  ;  '  and  better  twice  than  once,  so 
as  to  have  double  salary.' 

'"Never  mind,'  she  replied  ;  '  in  the  meantime  come  and  let  me  show  you  my 
carriage  and  the  English  coachman  and  the  six  gray  horses/  and  she  led  him 
away  toward  the  hall. 

"  '  And  Violetta?  '  feebly  murmured  Perlino. 
' '  Violetta  is  following  us,'  replied  the  lady,  pulling  the  imprudent  young 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  301 

fellow,  who  suffered  himself  to  be  led  away.  Once  in  the  court-yard  she  made 
him  admire  her  horses,  which,  as  they  pawed  the  ground,  shook  their  red  silk 
nets  with  the  little  golden  bells ;  then  she  made  him  get  into  the  carriage  to  try 
the  cushions  and  look  at  himself  in  the  glass.  Then  all  at  once  she  shut  the 
carriage  door,  the  coachman  whipped  up  his  horses,  and  they  were  off  and  away 
to  the  Castle  of  Silver  Crowns. 

"  Violetta,  meanwhile,  received  with  the  most  charming  grace  the  compliments 
of  the  assembly,  but,  soon  surprised  at  not  seeing  her  bridegroom,  who  was 
always  at  her  side  like  her  shadow,  she  ran  into  all  the  rooms;  he  wa<5  not  there; 
then  she  went  up  on  the  roof  of  the  house  to  see  if  Perlino  might  have  gone  there 
to  breathe  a  little  fresh  air,  but  there  was  no  one.  In  the  distance  she  descried 
a  cloud  of  dust  and  a  coach  with  six  horses  which  were  galloping  towards  the 
mountains. 

"  There  was  no  longer  room  for  doubt.  Perlino  had  been  carried  off.  At  this 
sight  Violetta  felt  her  heart  stop,  and  in  another  moment,  without  remembering 
she  was  bareheaded  with  her  wedding  wreath  on,  her  lace  gown  and  satin  shoes, 
she  rushed  out  of  her  father's  house  and  ran  after  the  carriage,  calling  loudly 
after  Perlino,  and  stretching  out  her  arms  to  him. 

"  Vain  words  that  the  wind  carried  away.  The  ungrateful  fellow  was  wholly 
occupied  with  the  honeyed  tongue  of  his  new  mistress  ;  he  played  with  the  rings 
she  wore  on  her  fingers,  and  thought  how  he  would  awake  the  next  day  a  prince 
and  a  grand  gentleman.  Alas !  There  are  older  people  than  he  who  are  just  as 
foolish !  When  do  people  learn  that  goodness  and  beauty  do  more  to  make 
home  happy  than  riches?  Not  till  it  is  too  late,  and  they  have  no  longer  the 
teeth  to  gnaw  the  chains  which  they  have  themselves  hung  on. 


CHAPTER  V. 

NIGHT  AND  DAY. 

U  pOOR  Violetta  ran  all  day;  ditches,  streams,  thickets,  briers,  nothing 
-L  stopped  her ;  they  who  suffer  for  love's  sake  feel  no  pain.  When  even- 
ing drew  on  she  found  herself  in  a  dark  wood,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  dying 
of  hunger,  and  her  hands  and  feet  all  bleeding.  She  grew  frightened.  She 
gazed  round  her  without  daring  to  move  ;  it  seemed  to  her  that  thousands  of 


302  Perlino. 

eyes  looked  threateningly  at  her  out  of  the  darkness.  Trembling  she  sank  at  the 
foot  of  a  tree,  and  in  a  low  voice  called  on  Perlino  to  bid  him  a  last  farewell. 

"  As  she  held  her  breath— for  she  was  too  frightened  to  breathe— she  heard 
the  trees  near  her  talking  among  themselves.  It  is  the  privilege  of  innocence 
to  understand  all  God's  creatures. 

" '  Neighbor/  said  a  locust  tree  to  an  olive,  of  which  only  the  trunk  remained, 
4  here  is  a  young  girl  who  is  doing  a  very  imprudent  thing  in  lying  on  the  ground. 
In  an  hour's  time  the  wolves  will  be  coming  out  of  their  den,  and  if  they  spare 
her,  the  cold  and  the  dews  of  the  morning  will  give  her  a  fever  from  which  she 
will  never  recover.  Why  does  not  she  climb  up  into  our  branches  ?  She  might 
sleep  there  in  peace,  and  I  would  willingly  give  her  some  of  my  pods  to  revive 
her  exhausted  frame.' 

"  '  You  are  quite  right,  neighbor,'  replied  the  olive, '  but  the  child  would  do 
better  still  if,  before  going  to  rest,  she  were  to  put  her  hand  into  my  hollow 
trunk.  The  clothes  and  the  zampogna  '  of  a  pifferaro  are  hidden  there.  When 
one  is  exposed  to  the  night  air,  goat-skin  is  not  to  be  despised,  and  for  a  girl  on  a 
journey  a  lace  gown  and  satin  shoes  are  but  a  light  costume. 

"How  cheered  and  comforted  Violetta  felt  on  overhearing  these  kind  words! 
When  she  had  groped  about  for  the  coarse  woolen  waistcoat,  the  goatskin  cloak, 
the  zampogna,  and  the  pifferaro's  pointed  hat,  she  bravely  climbed  the  carob 
tree,  ate  the  sweet  fruit,  quenched  her  thirst  with  the  evening  dew,  and  after 
wrapping  herself  up  well,  lay  down  as  comfortably  as  she  could  between  two 
branches.  The  tree  sheltered  her  with  its  fatherly  arms,  wood-pigeons  came  out 
of  their  nests  and  covered  her  with  leaves,  the  wind  rocked  her  to  sleep  like  a 
child,  and  she  slept  and  dreamed  of  her  lover. 

"  On  awaking  the  next  morning  she  felt  frightened.  The  day  was  fine  and 
cloudless,  but  in  the  silence  of  the  forest  the  poor  child  realized  her  loneliness; 
all  was  life  and  movement  around  her,  but  who  thought  of  the  poor  forsaken 
girl  ?  So  she  began  to  sing  to  call  to  her  assistance  every  thing  that  passed  her 
heedlessly  by : 

"  O  wind  of  morning,  say 
Where  is  my  love  to-day  ? 
'Mid  blossoms  blooming  bright, 
Born  in  the  balmy  night  ? 
Say  has  he  wept  for  me  ? 
Me  has  he  prayed  to  see  ? 
Give  me  new  hope  again. 
Tell  me  his  love  and  pain. 

1  A  sort  of  bagpipe. 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales.  303 


"  Gay  butterfly  and  bee, 
Pursue  my  love  for  me  ; 
The  brightest  flower  you  meet, 
The  jasminne  sceting  sweet, 
Are  not  so  fair  as  he. 

"  His  brow  eclipses  quite 
The  lily  pure  and  white, 
The  violet  her  scent 
For  his  breath  has  lent, 
And  the  iris  growing  high 
Is  blue  as  his  azure  eye. 

"  Seek,  O  swallow,  seek. 
O  birds,  where  is  he  ?  speak. 
'Mid   the  thyme  and  asphodel , 
By  the  brook  in  yon  grassy  dell  ? 
O  far  from  him  I  weep, 
My  grief  has  banished  sleep. 
Bring  me  my  love  again, 
Banish  my  grief  and  pain." 

The  breeze  passed  murmuring  by,  the  bee  set  off  to  seek  its  booty,  the  swal- 
low chased  the  flies  right  up  into  the  sky,  the  birds  tried  to  out-sing  each  other 
in  the  foliage,  and  no  one  troubled  themselves  about  Violetta.  She  came  down 
from  the  tree  sighing  and  walked  on  straight  before  her,  trusting  to  her  own 
true  heart  to  find  Perlino. 

CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  THREE  ADVENTURES. 

**  HP* HERE  was  a  torrent  that  descended  the  mountain,  and  its  bed  being 
JL  partly  dry,  Violetta  took  this  road.  Already  the  oleanders  had  emerged 
from  the  water,  their  heads  covered  with  flowers.  Cecco's  daughter  plunged 
into  this  green  pathway,  followed  by  the  butterflies  which  hovered  round  her, 
like  round  a  lily  which  the  wind  stirs.  She  walked  along  faster  than  an  exile 
returning  home,  but  the  heat  was  oppressive,  and  toward  noon  she  was  obliged 
to  stop  and  rest.  As  she  drew  near  a  little  pool,  meaning  to  bathe  her  burning 
feet  in  it,  she  caught  sight  of  a  bee  drowning.  Violetta  stretched  out  her  little 
foot  and  the  creature  climbed  on  to  it.  As  soon  as  it  was  dry  the  bee  remained 


3Q4  Perlino. 

quite  still  for  some  time,  as  if  to  get  back  its  breath,  then  it  shook  its  wet  wings, 
and  stroking  its  body  with  its  legs,  which  were  as  fine  as  a  thread  of  silk,  it 
dried  and  smoothed  itself,  and  then  flying  off,  came  buzzing  round  her  who  had 
saved  its  life. 

"  '  Violetta,'  it  said,  'you  have  not  rendered  a  service  to  one  who  is  ungrateful. 
I  know  where  you  are  going ;  let  me  go  with  you.  When  I  am  tired  I  will  rest 
on  your  head.  If  ever  you  have  need  of  me,  only  say,  "  Nebucadnezzar,  peace 
of  heart  is  worth  more  than  gold ;  "  perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  help  you.' 

"  '  Never,'  thought  Violetta,  '  shall  I  be  able  to  say  :  Nebucadnezzar — ' 

"  '  What  do  you  want?  "  asked  the  Bee. 

"  '  Nothing,  nothing,'  replied  Cecco's  daughter.  '  I  shall  not  want  you  till  I 
find  Perlino.' 

"  She  continued  her  road  with  a  lightened  heart.  At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  she  heard  a  little  cry  ;  it  was  a  white  mouse  which  a  hedgehog  had 
wounded,  and  which  had  only  escaped  from  its  enemy  bleeding  and  half  dead. 
Violetta  took  compassion  on  the  poor  little  creature,  and  though  she  was  in  such 
haste,  stopped  to  bathe  its  v/ounds  and  give  it  one  of  the  sweet  pods  that  she 
had  saved  from  her  breakfast. 

"  '  Violetta,'  said  the  mouse,  '  you  will  not  find  me  ungrateful.  I  know  where 
you  are  going.  Put  me  in  your  pocket  with  the  rest  of  the  locusts.  If  ever  you 
have  need  of  me,  only  say,  "  Tricche,  varlacche,  gold  embroidered  coats  and  hearts 
of  lackeys  /"  perhaps  I  may  be  able  to  help  you.' 

"  Violetta  slipped  the  mouse  into  her  pocket,  so  that  it  might  nibble  away  at 
its  leisure,  and  continued  her  ascent  of  the  torrent  bed.  Twilight  drew  on  and 
she  was  approaching  the  mountain,  when  suddenly  a  squirrel  fell  at  her  feet 
from  the  top  of  a  high  oak,  pursued  by  a  horrid  owl.  Cecco's  daughter  was  not 
timid,  and  she  struck  the  owl  with  her  zampogna  and  sent  it  off,  then  she  picked 
up  the  squirrel,  which  was  more  stunned  than  hurt  by  its  fall,  and  by  her  care 
revived  it. 

"  '  Violetta/  said  the  squirrel,  '  I  am  not  ungrateful.  I  know  where  you  are 
going.  Put  me  on  your  shoulder  and  gather  some  nuts  for  me  so  that  my  teeth 
do  not  grow  too  long.  If  ever  you  have  need  of  me,  only  say,  "  Patati,  patata, 
look  and  you  will  see ;  "  perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  help  you.' 

"  Violetta  was  rather  surprised  at  these  three  adventures ;  she  did  not  in  the 
least  count  upon  this  verbal  gratitude.  What  could  such  feeble  friends  do  for 
her?  'What  does  it  matter,'  she  thought,  '  right  is  right.  Come  what  may,  I 
have  taken  compassion  on  the  suffering.' 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  305 

"  At  this  moment  the  moon  came  out  from  behind  a  cloud,  and  its  white  light 
illumined  the  old  castle  of  Silver  Crowns. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  CASTLE  OF  SILVER  CROWNS. 

^  I  ""HE  view  of  the  castle  was  not  reassuring.  On  the  top  of  a  mountain, 
-L  which  was  a  mass  of  fallen  rocks,  battlements  of  gold  were  to  be  seen, 
and  silver  turrets,  and  roofs  of  sapphires  and  rubies  ;  but  these  were  surrounded 
by  deep  moats,  the  water  of  which  was  all  covered  with  duckweed,  and  defended 
by  drawbridges,  portcullises,  parapets,  enormous  bars  and  loopholes,  out  of  which 
cannons  showed  all  the  apparatus  of  war  and  slaughter.  The  grand  palace  was 
only  a  prison.  Violetta  with  difficulty  climbed  the  tortuous  paths,  and  at  last, 
at  the  end  of  a  narrow  passage,  came  to  a  grated  door  fastened  with  an  enormous 
lock.  She  called;  no  answer.  She  rang  the  bell,  and  directly  a  kind  of  jailer 
appeared,  blacker  and  uglier  than  Cerberus. 

"'  Be  off  with  you,  beggar!'  he  exclaimed,  '  or  I  will  beat  you.  This  is  no 
place  for  poverty.  At  the  castle  of  Silver  Crowns  alms  are  only  given  to  those 
who  are  in  need  of  nothing.' 

"  Poor  Violetta  went  away  crying. 

"  '  Cheer  up  ! '  said  the  squirrel,  cracking  a  nut,  '  play  on  the  zampogna.' 

"  '  But  I  have  never  played  it,'  replied  Cecco's  daughter. 

"  '  So  much  the  more  the  reason  why  you  should  do  so  now,'  said  the  squirrel. 
'  One  does  not  know  what  one  can  do  till  one  tries.  Blow  away.' 

"Violetta  set  to  work  to  play  with  all  her  might,  moving  her  fingers,  and 
singing  into  the  instrument,  and  the  zampogna  inflated  itself  and  played  a 
tarentella  which  would  have  brought  the  dead  to  life.  At  this  sound  the  squirrel 
jumped  down  on  the  ground,  and  the  mouse  soon  followed  his  example,  and 
there  they  were  dancing  and  jumping  like  true  Neapolitans,  while  the  bee  flew 
round  them  buzzing.  It  was  a  sight  worth  paying  a  carlin  to  see  and  not  regret 
it  afterward. 

"  At  the  sound  of  this  pleasant  music  the  black  shutters  of  the  castle  were  seen 
to  open.  The  maids  of  honor  of  the  Marchioness  of  Silver  Crowns  had  no  ob- 
jection to  look  out  from  time  to  time  to  see  if  the  flies  were  always  wheeling 


306  Perlino. 

round  in  the  same  fashion.  It  is  all.  very  well  not  to  be  curious,  but  it  is  not 
every  day  one  hears  a  tarentella  played  by  such  a  pretty  shepherd  boy  as 
Violetta. 

" '  Little  fellow,'  said  one,  '  come  here  ! ' 

"  '  Shepherd,'  cried  another,  '  come  to  me  ! " 

"And  they  all  smiled  on  him,  but  the  door  remained  closed. 

"  '  Ladies,'  said  Violetta,  taking  off  her  hat,  '  be  as  good  as  you  are  beautiful. 
Night  has  surprised  me  in  the  mountain  ;  I  have  neither  food  nor  shelter.  Give 
me  a  piece  of  bread  and  a  corner  in  the  stables.  My  little  dancers  will  amuse 
you  all  the  evening.' 

"  At  the  castle  of  Silver  Crowns  thieves  were  so  much  dreaded  that  orders 
were  strict  that  nobody  was  admitted  after  dark.  These  young  ladies  knew  this 
very  well,  but  in  this  highly  respectable  palace  there  was  always  a  rope  at  hand, 
and  they  threw  an  end  out  of  the  window  and  Violetta  was  hoisted  into  a 
spacious  chamber  with  all  her  menagerie.  There  she  had  to  blow  for  hours,  and 
dance  and  sing  without  ever  getting  a  chance  to  open  her  mouth  to  ask  where 
Perlino  was. 

"  No  matter,  she  was  happy  in  feeling  she  was  under  the  same  roof  with  him 
She  thought  her  lover's  heart  must  be  beating,  as  her  own  did.  She  was  so 
simple  she  thought  that  it  was  sufficient  to  love  to  be  loved  in  return.  Heaven 
knows  what  beautiful  dreams  she  had  that  night. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

*  *  \  7"ERY  early  the  next  morning  Violetta,  who  had  been  put  to  sleep  in  the 

V      barn,  mounted  on  the  roofs  and  gazed  around  her,  but  though  she  ran 

to  every  side,  she  only  saw  grated  towers  and  deserted  gardens.     She  came  down 

again  in  tears,  though  her  three  little  friends  did  all  they  could  to  comfort  hei 

"  In  the  courtyard  paved  with  silver  she  found  the  three  maids  of  honor  seated 
in  a  circle  and  spinning  gold  and  silver  thread. 

" '  Go  away,'  they  cried,  '  if  our  mistress  were  to  see  your  rags  she  would  dis- 
charge us.  Leave  this  at  once,  wretched  zampogna-player,  and  never  come  back, 
at  least,  not  unless  you  have  become  a  prince  or  a  banker.' 

'•'  'Go  away?'  said  Violetta;  'not  yet,  my  pretty  ladies.  Allow  me  to  be  your 
servant ;  I  will  be  so  gentle  and  so  obedient  that  you  will  never  regret  having 
kept  me  near  you.' 


Laboulayjs  Fairy  Tales. 


307 


"  For  answer  the  eldest  maid  of  honor,  who  was  tall,  thin,  plain,  sallow,  and 
angular,  rose  from  her  seat,  at  the  same  time  calling  to  the  jailer,  who  made  his 
appearance  frowning  terribly  and  brandishing  his  halberd. 

"'I  am  lost,'  cried  the  poor  girl ;  '  I  shall  never  see  my  Perlino  again ! ' 

"'  Violetta,'  said  the  squirrel  gravely,  'gold  is  tried  in  the  furnace  and  a  friend 
in  misfortune.' 

"  « You  are  right,'  exclaimed  Cecco's  daughter.  '  Nebuchadnezzar,  peace  of  heart 
is  worth  more  tJian  gold? 

"  Immediately  the  bee  flew  off,  and,  lo  and  behold,  a  beautiful  crystal  carriage 
with  a  ruby  pole  and  emerald  wheels  entered  the  court-yard,  wherefrom  no  one 
knew.  The  equipage 
was  drawn  by  four 
black  dogs  as  big  as 
one's  fist.  Four  great 
beetles,  dressed  as  pos- 
tilions, drove  with 
light  hand  this  tiny 
team.  Inside  the  car- 
riage, on  soft  cushions 
of  light  satin,  lolled  a 
young  snipe  in  a  little 
red  hat  and  a  silken 
robe,  which  was  so 
ample  that  it  over- 
flowed both  wheels. 
In  one  claw  the  lady 
held  a  fan,  and  in  the 
other  a  scent-bottle 
and  a  pocket-handker- 
chief embroidered  with 
her  coat  of  arms  and 
trimmed  with  wide 
lace.  Beside  her,  half 
buried  under  the  bil- 
lows of  silk,  sat  an  owl  looking  very  much  bored,  with  lack-luster  eye  and  bald 
head,  and  so  old  that  his  beak  crossed  like  a  pair  of  scissors  when  opened. 
They  were  a  newly  married  couple  who  were  paying  their  wedding  visits; 


308  Perlino. 

a   very   fashionable   couple,    such   as   the    mistress    of    Silver   Crowns   highly 
approved  of. 

"  At  sight  of  this  marvel  a  shout  of  pleasure  and  admiration  awoke  the  echoea 
of  the  palace.  In  his  astonishment  the  jailer  let  fall  his  pike,  while  the  young 
ladies  ran  after  the  carriage,  which  was  being  carried  along  at  a  gallop  by  the 
four  spaniels  as  if  the  Emperor  of  the  Turks  or  the  devil  in  person  were  inside. 
The  unusual  noise  alarmed  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns,  who  was  in  constant  fear 
of  being  robbed.  She  hastened  to  the  spot  in  a  fury,  determined  to  discharge 
on  the  spot  all  her  maids  of  honor.  She  paid  for  being  treated  with  respect, 
and  she  insisted  on  having  her  money's  worth. 

"  But  when  she  caught  sight  of  the  equipage,  and  the  owl  who  saluted  her 
with  a  movement  of  his  beak,  and  the  snipe  who  three  times  waved  her  hand- 
kerchief with  a  delicious  air  of  nonchalance,  the  lady's  anger  vanished. 

"'  I  must  have  that,'  she  cried.     '  What  is  the  price  of  it?' 

"  The  marchioness's  voice  terrified  Violetta,  but  her  love  for  Perlino  gave  her 
courage.  She  answered  that,  poor  as  she  was,  she  loved  this  toy  more  than  all 
the  gold  in  the  world.  She  would  never  part  from  her  carriage,  and  could  not 
think  of  selling  it  for  the  Castle  of  Silver  Crowns. 

" '  The  absurd  pride  of  beggars  ! '  murmured  the  lady.  *  It  is  really  only  rich 
people  who  have  a  proper  respect  for  money,  and  who  are  ready  to  do  any  thing 
for  a  crown.  I  must  have  that  carriage  ! '  she  said,  in  a  threatening  tone  ;  '  cost 
what  it  may,  I  must  have  it.' 

" '  Madam,'  replied  Violetta,  much  moved,  '  it  is  true  I  do  not  wish  to  sell  it, 
but  I  should  be  happy  to  offer  it  to  your  ladyship  as  a  present,  if  you  would  do 
me  the  honor  to  accept  it.' 

; '  That  might  come  expensive,'  thought  the  marchioness.     '  Speak,'  said  she 
to  Violetta  ;  « what  is  it  that  you  want  ?  ' 

'  Madam,'  said  Cecco's  daughter,  « I  am  told  that  you  have  a  museum  where 
all  the  curiosities  in  the  world  are  collected.  Show  it  to  me,  and  if  there 
is  something  still  more  wonderful  than  this  carriage  my  treasure  shall  be 
yours.' 

"  For  answer  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  led  Vio- 
letta into  a  great  gallery,  which  has  never  had  its  equal.  She  showed  her  all  its 
treasures  ;  a  fallen  star,  a  necklace  made  of  a  moonbeam  plaited  and  woven  in 
three  rows,  black  lilies,  green  roses,  an  eternal  love,  fire  which  did  not  burn,  and 
many  other  rarities ;  but  she  never  showed  Violetta  the  one  thing  she  cared 
about.  Perlino  was  not  there. 


Laboulaye's  Fairy  Tales.  209 

"  The  marchioness  looked  for  astonishment  and  admiration.  She  was  sur- 
prised only  to  see  indifference. 

" '  Well/  she  said,  '  all  these  wonders  are  a  very  different  thing  from  your  four 
bow-wows  ;  the  carriage  is  mine.' 

"  '  No,  madam,'  said  Violetta,  '  all  these  things  are  inanimate,  but  my  equipage 
is  living.  You  could  not  compare  these  stones  and  pebbles  to  my  owl  and  snipe, 
so  real  and  natural  that  it  seems  as  if  one  had  met  them  in  the  street.  Art  is 
nothing  beside  life.' 

" '  If  that  is  all,'  said  the  marchioness,  '  I  will  show  you  a  little  man  made  of 
sugar  and  almond  paste,  who  sings  like  a  nightingale  and  reasons  like  an  acad- 
emician.* 

" '  Perlino  !  *  exclaimed  Violetta. 

"  '  Ah  ! '  said  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns,  '  my  maids  of  honor  have  been  talk- 
ing.'  She  gazed  at  the  zampogna-player  with  the  instinct  of  fear.  '  On  consid- 
eration,' she  added,  '  leave  this  castle.  I  do  not  wish  for  your  childish  toy.' 

"  '  Madam,'  said  Violetta,  trembling,  '  let  me  speak  to  this  marvelous  Perlino, 
and  you  take  the  carriage.' 

"  '  No,'  said  the  marchioness,  '  go  away,  and  take  your  creatures  with  you.' 

"  '  Let  me  only  see  Perlino.' 

" '  No,  no,'  answered  the  lady. 

"'Only  let  me  sleep  one  night  at  his  door,'  returned  Violetta  in  floods  of 
tears.  '  See  what  a  gem  you  are  refusing,'  added  she,  kneeling  on  one  knee 
and  presenting  the  carriage  to  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns. 

"  At  this  sight  the  marchioness  hesitated  ;  then  smiled.  In  an  instant  she  had 
thought  of  how  she  could  deceive  Violetta,  and  get  for  nothing  that  which  she 
coveted. 

"  '  Agreed,'  she  said,  seizing  the  carriage.  '  You  shall  sleep  at  Perlino's  door 
to-night,  and  you  shall  even  see  him,  but  I  forbid  you  to  speak  to  him.' 

"  When  evening  came,  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns  called  Perlino  to  have  sup- 
per with  her.  When  she  had  made  him  eat  and  drink  well,  which  was  easy  with 
a  boy  of  such  a  yielding  disposition,  she  poured  some  excellent  capri  wine  into 
a  red  goblet,  and  drawing  from  her  pocket  a  crystal  box,  she  took  from  it  a  red 
powder,  which  she  threw  into  the  wine. 

"  4  Drink  that,  my  child,'  she  said  to  Perlino,  '  and  tell  me  what  you  think 
of  it.' 

"  Perlino,  who  always  did  what  he  was  told,  swallowed  the  drink  in  a  single 
gulp. 


3IO  Per  lino. 

•"  Oh  ! '  he  exclaimed,  '  it  is  horrible,  it  has  a  smell  of  blood  and  mud,  it  is 
poison ! ' 

"  '  Mot ! '  said  the  marchioness  ;  '  it  is  gold  that  you  have  been  drinking,  and 
he  who  has  once  drunk  of  it  will  always  drink  it.  Take  this  second  glass,  you 
will  find  it  better  than  the  first.' 

"  The  lady  was  right.  Scarcely  had  the  young  fellow  emptied  the  cup  than 
he  was  seized  with  an  ardent  thirst.  '  More  !  More  ! '  he  cried.  He  did  not 
wish  to  leave  the  table.  To  induce  him  to  go  to  bed,  the  marchioness  was 
obliged  to  make  him  up  a  large  packet  of  this  wonderful  powder,  which  he  put 
carefully  in  his  pocket,  as  a  remedy  against  every  evil. 

"  Poor  Perlino  !  It  was  indeed  a  poison  he  had  taken,  and  that  the  most  terri- 
ble of  all.  Who  drinks  dissolved  gold  has  his  heart  frozen  as  long  as  the  fatal 
beverage  is  inside  him.  He  knows  nothing,  loves  nothing ;  neither  father,  mother, 
wife,  children,  friends,  nor  country.  He  only  thinks  of  himself.  He  longs  to 
drink,  and  would  drink  all  the  gold  and  all  the  blood  in  the  world  without  satis- 
fying a  thirst  which  nothing  can  quench. 

" Meanwhile  what  was  Violetta  doing?  The  time  dragged  as  heavily  to  her 
as  a  day  without  bread  to  a  starving  man.  So,  as  soon  as  night  had  put  on  her 
black  mask  to  open  the  ball  of  the  stars,  Violetta  ran  to  Perlino's  door,  convinced 
that  as  soon  as  he  should  see  her,  Perlino  would  throw  himself  into  her  arms. 
How  her  heart  beat  as  she  heard  him  come  up  the  stairs  !  What  grief  it  was 
when  the  ungrateful  boy  passed  in  without  ever  looking  at  her  ! 

"  His  door  double  locked  and  the  key  taken  out,  Violetta  threw  herself  on  a 
mat  that  they  had  given  her  out  of  pity ;  there  she  melted  into  tears,  holding 
her  hands  to  her  mouth  to  stifle  her  sobs.  She  did  not  dare  to  complain  for  feaf 
they  should  send  her  away ;  but  when  the  hour  came  that  the  stars  alone  were 
awake,  she  softly  knocked  at  the  door,  and  sang  below  her  breath : 

"  Perlino,  dost  hear  me?    I  come  thee  to  free. 
Come  quick,  or  I'll  die,  love, 
Divided  from  thee  ! 

Open  to  me  !  for  thy  love,  dear,  I  sigh, 
I  burn,  love,  I  freeze,  love  ,  without  thee  I  die  !" 

Alas!  She  sang  as  much  as  she  liked,  but  nothing  stirred  inside  the  room, 
o  snored  like  a  husband  of  ten  years'  standing,  and  dreamed  of  nothing 
is  gold  powder.  The  hours  dragged  heavily,  without  bringing  hope. 

ttowever  long  and  sad  the  night  was,  the  morning  was  still  more  so.     The  Lady 

of  Silver  Crowns  arrived  at  daybreak. 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  311 

"  '  I  hope  you  are  satisfied,  my  pretty  piper,'  said  she  with  a  malicious  smile; 
'  You  have  been  paid  for  your  coach  as  you  asked  to  be.' 

"  '  May  you  be  equally  satisfied  all  the  days  of  your  life  ! '  murmured  Violetta. 
1  I  have  passed  so  bad  a  night  that  I  shall  not  soon  forget  it.' " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TRICCHE,  VARLACCHE. 

ECCO'S  daughter  withdrew  sadly ;  there  was  no  more  hope,  she  must 
return  to  her  father  and  forget  him  who  had  ceased  to  love  her.  She 
crossed  the  courtyard,  followed  by  the  maids  of  honor  who  mocked  at  her  sim- 
plicity. On  reaching  the  grated  door  she  turned  round  as  if  seeking  one  parting 
glance,  but  finding  herself  alone,  her  courage  forsook  her,  and  she  dissolved  in 
tears  and  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  '  Be  off  with  you,  wretched  beggar ! '  cried  the  jailer,  seizing  Violetta  by  the 
collar  and  shaking  her  violently. 

"'Be  off!'  said  Violetta,  'Never!  Tricche',  varlacche'j  she  cried,  "gold  em- 
broidered coats  and  hearts  of  lackeys  !  " 

"  And,  lo  and  behold,  the  mouse  jumped  upon  the  jailer's  nose  and  bit  it  till 
the  blood  came ;  then,  right  in  front  of  the  gate,  rises  an  aviary  as  large  as  a 
Chinese  pagoda.  The  bars  were  of  silver,  the  places  for  seed  and  water  were 
made  of  diamonds ;  instead  of  millet  there  were  pearls,  instead  of  toy  baubles 
there  were  ducats  threaded  on  ribbons  of  various  colors.  In  the  middle  of  this 
magnificent  cage,  on  a  stick  with  bars  across  at  different  heights  which  turned 
with  every  breath  of  wind,  jumped  and  twittered  thousands  of  birds  of  every 
kind  and  country ;  humming-birds,  parrots,  cardinal-birds,  blackbirds,  linnets, 
canaries,  and  others.  All  this  feathered  crowd  whistled  the  same  air,  each  in  his 
own  note.  Violetta,  who  understood  the  language  of  birds  as  much  as  that 
of  flowers,  listened  to  what  all  these  voices  said,  and  translated  the  song  for  the 
maids  of  honor,  much  surprised  to  find  such  unusual  wisdom  among  parrots  and 
canaries. 

"  A  fig  for  Liberty  ! 
Hurrah  for  a  cage  ! 
Well  fed  and  well  treated, 

In  winter  well  heated,  • 

Best  life  for  a  sage  ; 


Perlino. 

After  these  joyous 
songs  a  great  silence 
supervened.  An  old 
red  and  green  parrot 
with  a  sober  and  se- 
rious air  raised  his  leg, 
and,  as  he  twirled 
round  OK  the  other, 
sang  in  a  nasal  tone, 
or  rather  croaked,  what 
follows : 

"  '  The  nightingale's  a  gentle^ 
man, 

All  clad  in  russet  brown, 

He's  very  plain ; 

We  hear  his  strain 

But  when  the  moon  shines 
down. 

So  proud  he  is,  he  dwells 
apart, 

Pretending  to  be  gay, 

But  no  one  likes  his  silly 
song, 

Whatever  they  may  say. 

Such  arrant   fools  should 
surely  be 

Confined   with    bolt    and 
bar, 

They  do  not  care  for  For- 
tune's smile : 

What  owls  these  creatures 
are!' 

and     all     the     birds, 
carried  away  by  this  eloquence,  began  singing  in  a  piercing  voice  : 

"  'A  fig  for  Liberty  !'  &c. 

"  While  every  body  was  gathered  round  the  magic  aviary,  the  lady  of  Silver 
Crowns  hastened  to  the  spot.  As  may  be  believed,  she  was  not  the  last  to 
covet  this  marvel. 

"  '  Boy,'  she  said  to  the  zampogna  piper,  '  will  you  sell  me  that  cage  on  the 
.same  terms  as  the  carriage  ?  ' 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  2 13 

4< '  Willingly,  madam,'  replied  Violetta,  who  wished  for  nothing  better. 

"'  Agreed ! '  said  the  lady,  '  it  is  only  beggars  who  would  be  so  foolish.' 

"That  evening  every  thing  happened  as  on  the  previous  one.  Perlino,  drunk 
with  his  solution  of  gold,  entered  his  chamber  without  even  raising  his  eyes. 
Violetta  threw  herself  on  the  mat  outside  more  miserable  than  ever. 

"  She  sang  like  on  the  first  day,  she  wept  to  melt  a  stone,  but  in  vain.  Per- 
lino  slept  like  a  log ;  his  mistress's  sobs  only  lulled  him  as  the  murmur  of  the 
ocean  or  the  wind  would  have  done.  Toward  midnight  Violetta's  three  friends,' 
distressed  at  her  grief,  consulted  together.  « It  is  not  natural  that  the  young 
fellow  should  sleep  like  that,'  said  the  squirrel.  'We  must  get  in  and  wake  him,' 
said  the  mouse.  '  But  how  can  we  get  in  ? '  asked  the  bee,  who  had  in  vain 
sought  for  a  chink  all  along  the  wall.  '  I  can  easily  manage  that/  said  the  mouse. 
And  quickly  it  set  to  work  to  gnaw  a  little  corner  of  the  door ;  this  was  enough 
for  the  bee,  who  slipped  into  Perlino's  chamber. 

"  There  he  was,  quietly  sleeping  on  his  back,  snoring  with  the  regularity  of  a 
canon  taking  his  siesta.  This  calmness  irritated  the  bee,  and  it  stung  Perlino  on 
the  lip.  Perlino  sighed  and  gave  himself  a  blow  on  the  cheek,  but  he  did  not 
awake. 

"  '  The  boy  has  been  drugged,'  said  the  bee  on  returning  to  Violetta  to  com- 
fort  her.  '  There  is  magic  somewhere.  What  shall  we  do  ?' 

" '  Stop,'  said  the  mouse,  who  had  never  ceased  gnawing,  '  it  is  my  turn  to  go 
in  now,  and  I  will  wake  him,  even  if  I  must  eat  his  heart  to  do  so.' 

" '  No,  no,'  cried  Violetta,  '  I  will  not  allow  any  one  to  harm  my  Perlino.' 

"The  mouse  was  already  inside  the  room.  To  jump  on  to  the  bed  and  get 
under  the  coverlid  was  only  a  game  to  the  rats'  cousin.  It  went  straight  to 
Perlino's  breast ;  but  before  making  a  hole  there,  it  listened  a  moment,  but  his 
heart  was  not  beating.  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt !  Perlino  was  enchanted, 
bewitched. 

"  As  it  brought  back  this  news  the  dawn  was  already  breaking.  The  wicked 
marchioness  made  her  appearance  smiling  as  usual.  Violetta,  furious  at  being 
tricked,  and  biting  her  nails  with  anger,  nevertheless  made  a  low  bow  to  the  lady 
as  she  murmured  '  Till  to-morrow.' 


Perlino. 
3*4 


CHAPTER  X. 

PATATI,     PATATA. 

THIS  time  Violetta  went  down  stairs  in  better  heart.  Hope  had  come 
back  to  her.  Like  the  day  before,  she  found  the  maids  of  honor  in  the 
court,  spinning  with  their  distaffs. 

"  '  Come  away,  pretty  piper,'  they  cried  laughing,  *  do  another  of  your  tricks 
for  us ! ' 

"  '  To  please  you,  gracious  ladies,'  replied  Violetta  :  '  Patati,  patata,1  said  she, 
4  look  sharp  and  you  will  see.' 

"  At  that  moment  the  squirrel  threw  down  on  the  ground  one  of  his  nuts,  and 
directly  a  theater  of  marionettes  appeared.  The  curtain  drew  up,  the  scene 
represented  a  law  court.  At  the  far  end,  on  the  bench  covered  with  red  velvet, 
star-spangled,  sat  the  magistrate,  a  great  big  cat,  highly  respectable-looking 
though  there  was  a  crumb  or  two  of  cheese  sticking  to  his  long  mustache. 
With  a  meditative  air,  his  hands  crossed  in  his  long  sleeves,  and  his  eyes  shut, 
he  looked  for  all  the  world  as  if  he  were  asleep,  if  ever  justice  sleeps  in  the  cat 
kingdom. 

"  To  the  side  was  a  wooden  bervch  where  three  mice  were  chained,  whose  teeth 
had  been  drawn  and  their  ears  cut,  by  way  of  precaution.  They  were  suspected, 
which  in  Naples  means  convicted,  of  having  looked  too  closely  at  a  skin  of  old 
lard.  Facing  the  criminals  was  a  dais  of  black  cloth,  on  which  was  inscribed  in 
letters  of  gold  this  sentence,  from  the  great  poet  and  magician,  Virgil : 

'"Crush  the  mice,  but  humor  the  cats.' 

Below  the  dais  stood  the  barrister,  a  weasel  with  retreating  forehead,  red  eyes, 
and  pointed  tongue.  His  hand  was  on  his  heart ;  he  was  making  an  eloquent 
harangue  demanding  the  law  to  strangle  the  mice.  His  words  flew  on  like  water 
from  a  spring.  In  a  most  tender  and  penetrating  voice  the  good  man  implored 
and  solicited  the  death  of  these  dreadful  little  creatures,  so  that  one  really  grew 
indignant  at  their  callousness.  One  felt  that  they  failed  in  their  obvious  duty 
in  not  offering  their  heads  to  be  cut  off  at  once,  to  calm  the  emotion  and  dry  the 
tears  of  this  worthy  weasel,  who  was  so  full  of  grief. 

"  When  the  barrister  had  finished  his  funeral  oration,  a  young  rat,  scarcely 
weaned,  rose  to  defend  the  criminals. 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales.  3 1 5 

"  He  had  already  settled  his  glass,  taken  off  his  cap,  and  shaken  out  his 
sleeves,  when,  out  of  respect  for  the  right  of  free  defense,  and  in  the  interest  of 
the  accused,  the  cat  refused  him  permission  to  speak.  Then,  in  a  solemn  voice, 
Master  Rominagrobis  scolded  the  prisoners,  witnesses,  society,  heaven,  earth, 
and  the  rats;  and  then,  putting  on  his  black  cap,  he  thundered  forth  the  sentence 
of  death,  and  condemned  these  criminal  wretches  to  be  hung  and  flayed  forth- 
with, with  confiscation  of  property,  abolition  of  memory,  and  conviction  with 
costs,  arrest  for  debt  limited  to  five  years,  for  one  must  be  humane  even  to 
criminals. 

"  The  farce  played  out,  the  curtain  fell. 

"  '  How  real  it  is  ! '  exclaimed  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns.  '  It  is  cat's  justice 
to  the  life.  Shepherd  or  magician,  whichever  you  are,  sell  me  the  star  chamber/ 

"  '  Certainly,  madam,  at  the  same  price,'  replied  Violetta. 

" ' We  meet  again  this  evening,'  answered  the  marchioness. 

"  '  Till  this  evening,'  said  Violetta  ;  and  she  added  softly,  '  may  you  be  able 
to  repay  me  all  the  harm  you  have  done.' 

"  'While  the  farce  was  being  played  in  the  court,  the  squirrel  did  not  waste 
his  time.  By  dint  of  scampering  about  all  over  the  roofs,  he  had  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  Perlino,  who  was  eating  figs  in  the  garden.  From  the  roof 
the  squirrel  had  jumped  on  to  a  tree,  and  from  the  tree  on  to  a  bush.  Always 
jumping  down,  he  at  length  reached  the  spot  where  Perlino  was  standing  playing 
at  morra  '  with  his  shadow,  the  safe  way  to  always  win. 

"  The  squirrel  cut  a  caper,  and,  sitting  down  in  front  of  Perlino  with  the 
gravity  of  a  notary, 

"'Friend,'  said  he,  'solitude  has  its  charms,  but  you  do  not  look  as  if  you 
found  it  very  amusing  playing  here  by  yourself;  let  us  have  a  game  to- 
gether.' 

"  '  Pooh ! '  said  Perlino  yawning,  '  your  fingers  are  too  short,  and  you  are  only 
an  animal.' 

"  '  Short  fingers  are  not  always  a  disadvantage,'  replied  the  squirrel;  '  I  have 
seen  more  than  one  man  hung  for  being  too  long-fingered ;  and  if  I  am  an  animal, 
Signer  Perlino,  at  least  I  am  a  very  wide  awake  one.  That  is  much  better  than 
having  intelligence  and  sleeping  like  a  dormouse.  If  ever  happiness  should 
knock  at  my  door  in  the  night,  at  least  I  would  be  awake  to  open  it.' 

"  '  Speak  clearly,'  said  Perlino,  «  for  the  last  two  days  I  have  felt  very  strange. 
My  head  is  heavy,  and  my  heart  sad ;  and  I  have  had  bad  dreams.  Why  is 
that  ? ' 


2 1 6  Per  lino. 

"'Look  here,'  said  the  squirrel,  'if  you  do  not  drink,  you  will  not  sleep;  il 
you  do  not  sleep,  you  will  see  something.  A  word  to  the  wise  is  sufficient/ 

"  Whereupon  the  squirrel  climbed  upon  a  branch  and  disappeared. 

"While  Perlino  had  lived  in  this  retreat,  he  had  grown  gradually  wiser. 
Nothing  makes  one  wicked  like  being  bored  in  company,  and  nothing  makes  one 
wise  like  being  bored  in  solitude.  At  supper-time,  he  watched  the  face  and  smile 
of  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns,  he  was  as  gay  as  usual,  but  every  time  he  was 
handed  the  cup  of  oblivion,  he  went  to  the  window  and  admired  the  beauty  of  the 
evening,  and  each  time  he  threw  the  dissolved  gold  into  the  garden.  The  poison 
fell,  it  is  said,  on  white  worms,  which  were  peeping  out  of  the  earth,  and  it  is 
ever  since  then  the  cockchafers  have  been  golden." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

RECOGNITION. 

entering  his  chamber,  Perlino  remarked  the  zampogna-player  gazing 
sadly  at  him,  but  he  asked  no  questions,  for  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  be 
alone  to  see  if  happiness  would  knock  at  his  door,  and  in  what  guise  it  would 
enter.  His  anxiety  was  not  of  long  duration.  He  had  not  lain  down  on  the 
bed  when  he  heard  a  gentle  plaintive  voice.  It  was  Violetta,  who  in  the  tender- 
est  language  was  reminding  him  how  she  had  made  him  and  fashioned  him  with 
her  own  hands,  and  how  it  was  to  her  prayers  that  he  owed  his  life  ;  and  yet  he 
had  allowed  himself  to  be  enticed  and  carried  off,  while  she  had  run  after  him 
so  sorely  grieved,  as  it  was,  happily,  the  lot  of  few  to  know.  Violetta  told  him, 
too,  in  the  most  sorrowful  and  heartrending  accents,  how  for  two  nights  she  had 
watched  at  his  door,  and  how  to  obtain  this  favor  she  had  given  treasures 
worthy  of  a  king,  without  getting  one  word  from  him  ;  and  now,  this  last  night 
was  the  end  of  all  her  hopes  and  her  life. 

"  On  listening  to  these  words,  which  pierced  his  heart,  Perlino  felt  as  if  he  had 
awaked  from  a  dream,  as  if  a  cloud  was  being  rent  before  his  eyes.  Gently  he 
opened  the  door  and  called  Violetta,  and  she  threw  herself  into  his  arms  sob- 

1  In  the  game  of  morra  each  of  the  players  raises  one  or  more  fingers,  and  his  adversary  must  guess  how 
jnanv  fingers  he  has  raised. 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


317 


bing.     He  tried  to  speak  but  she  would  not  let  him.     We  always  believe  those 
we  love,  and  sometimes  one  is  so  happy  that  one  can  only  weep. 

"  '  Let  us  go  away,'  said  Perlino,  '  let  us  leave  this  accursed  fortress." 

"  '  It  is  not  so  easy  to  leave,  Signer  Perlino,'  replied  the  squirrel.  '  The  Lady 
of  Silver  Crowns  does  not  willingly  let  any  thing  go  that  once  she  has  laid  hold 
of.  In  order  to  wake  you,  we  have  used  up  all  our  gifts  ;  now  a  miracle  must  be 
worked  to  save  you.' 

"  '  Perhaps  I  have  the  means,'  said  Perlino,  to  whom  intelligence  was  coming  as 
sap  to  a  tree  in  spring  time. 

"  He  took  the  packet  which  contained  the  magic  powder,  and  went  to  the 
stables,  followed  by  Violetta  and  her  three  friends.  There  he  saddled  the  best 
horse,  and,  walking  quietly  out,  he  reached  the  lodge  where  the  jailer  slept  with 
his  keys  hanging  from  his  waist.  At  the  noise  of  footsteps  the  man  waked,  and 
was  about  to  call  out.  As  he  opened  his  mouth,  Perlino  threw  into  it  the  dis- 
solved gold,  at  the  risk  of  suffocating  him  ;  but  far  from  complaining  the  jailer 
smiled  and  fell  back  in  his  chair,  shutting  his  eyes  and  stretching  out  his  legs. 
To  seize  his  bunch  of  keys,  open  the  gate,  double-lock  it  again,  and  throw  these 
keys  of  perdition  into  the  moat,  so  that  covetousness  might  be  forever  shut  up  in 
prison,  was  the  affair  of  a  few  moments  to  Perlino.  The  poor  fellow  had  not 
taken  into  consideration  the  hole  of  the  lock,  for  not  more  than  that  is  needed 
for  covetousness  to  escape  from  its  prison  and  invade  the  human  heart. 

"  At  last  they  were  on  their  road  home,  both  on  the  same  horse,  Perlino  in 
front  and  Violetta  behind  clinging  to  him.  She  had 
thrown  her  arm  round  her  beloved  one,  and  pressed  him 
close  to  her,  to  make  quite  sure  his  heart  was  beating. 
Perlino  constantly  turned  his  head  to  have,  another  look 
at  his  dear  mistress,  and  see  the  smile  that  he  was  afraid 
of  forgetting.  Farewell,  fear  and  prudence!  If  the 
squirrel  had  not  drawn  the  rein  more  than  once  to  pre- 
vent the  horse  stumbling  or  losing  himself,  who  knows 
when  the  two  travelers  would  have  arrived  at  their  desti- 
nation ? 

"  I  leave  you  to  imagine  the  joy  of  our  worthy  Cecco  on 
again  finding  his  daughter  and  son-in-law.  He  was  the 
youngest  in  the  house.  He  laughed  all  day  long  without 
knowing  why,  and  wanted  to  dance  with  every  body.  He  so 
lost  his  head  that  he  doubled  all  his  clerk's  salaries,  and 


3ig  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

gave  a  pension  to  his  cashier,  who  had  only  served  him  thirty-six  years.  Nothing 
is  so  blinding  as  happiness.  It  was  a  splendid  wedding,  but  this  time  they  took 
care  to  pick  their  friends.  For  twenty  leagues  round  bees  came  who  brought  a 
magnificent  honey-comb.  The  ball  finished  by  a  tarentella  of  mice  and  a  salta- 
rello  of  squirrels  which  is  still  spoken  of  at  Paestum.  When  the  sun  went  down 
and  the  guests  left,  Perlino  and  Violetta  were  still  dancing.  Nothing  could  stop 
them.  Cecco,  who  was  wiser,  gave  them  a  little^  sermon,  telling  them  they  were 
no  longer  children,  and  that  people  did  not  marry  to  amuse  themselves;  where- 
upon  they  threw  themselves  into  his  arms  laughing.  A  father  is  always  soft- 
hearted, so  he  took  their  hands  and  danced  with  them  himself  until  evening." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   MORAL. 

4 '    A  ND  this  is  the  story  of  Perlino,  which  is  worth  more  than  many,"  said 

/I.  my  tall  hostess  rising,  quite  moved  herself  by  the  adventure  which  she 
had  been  narrating. 

"  And  the  Lady  of  Silver  Crowns,"  I  exclaimed  ;  "  what  became  of  her !  " 

"  Who  knows  ?  "  replied  Palomba.  "  Whether  she  wept,  or  whether  she  tore 
her  hair,  who  cares  ?  Knavery  in  the  end  is  always  caught  in  its  own  trap,  which 
is  a  good  thing.  The  devil's  flour  always  turns  out  to  be  bran,  so  much  the 
worse  for  the  devil,  but  so  much  the  better  for  honest  people ! " 

"  And  the  moral  ?  " 

"What  moral?"  said  Palomba,  looking  at  me  quite  surprised.  "If  your  Ex- 
cellency wants  a  moral,  it  is  two  o'clock,  and  there  is  a  Capuchin  Father  who 
preaches  at  vespers,  and  you  can  see  the  cathedral  from  here." 

"  It  is  the  moral  of  the  story  that  I  want." 

"  Signer,"  she  said,  emphasizing  her  final  syllables,  "  the  soup  is  ready,  the 
fowl  fried,  the  maccaroni  cooked.  No,  no,  my  story  is  finished.  We  lull 
children  to  sleep  with  songs,  and  men  with  tales.  What  do  you  want 
more  ?  " 

I  seated  myself  at  table»  but  I  was  not  satisfied.  While  I  blunted  my  knife  on 
the  fowl,  I  said  to  my  hostess : 

"  Your  tale  was  a  touching  one,  and  this  maccaroni  has  a  most  appetizing 
smell,  but  when  I  tell  the  children  of  my  own  country  the  adventures  of  Perlino, 


Per  lino.  319 

I  shall  not  be  giving  them  dinner  at  the  same  time,  and  they  will  insist  upon  a 
moral." 

"  Well,  your  Excellency,  if  there  are  such  stupid  people  in  your  country,  that 
they  do  not  dare  to  laugh  for  fear  of  showing  their  teeth,  let  them  come  and 
taste  my  maccaroni.  Send  them  to  Amalfi,  and  let  them  ask  for  the  Moon 
Inn  ;  we  will  serve  them  up  more  morals  in  a  dish  than  they  can  get  in 
Paris." 

"  By  the  by,"  she  added,  "  they  are  waiting  for  you  to  start.  The  wind  is 
rising,  and  the  sailors  fear  that  your  Excellency  may  have  to  suffer  like  this 
morning.  You  look  unhappy  at  the  news.  Take  courage !  Trouble  passed  is 
only  a  dream,  and  though  trouble  to  come  has  long  arms,  yet  it  has  not  yet  got 
hold  of  us.  You  never  thought  of  it  a  little  time  back." 

"  Thanks,  my  good  Palomba.  You  have  given  me  what  I  wanted.  A 
moment  of  forgetfulness  between  troubles,  a  little  rest  in  the  midst  of  wind 
and  wave,  of  work  and  weariness — that  is  what  we  get  from  tales  and 
dreams.  He  is  very  foolish  who  asks  for  more.  Ecco  la  moralitd — this  is  my 
moral." 


THE  SHEPHERD  PASHAW. 

A  TURKISH  STORY. 


ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  at  Bagdad  a pashaw  who,  though  a  favorite  with 
the  sultan,  was  by  no  means  beloved  by  his  subjects.  AH  (for  such  was 
his  name)  was  a  true  Mussulman  of  the  old  school.  As  soon  as  dawn  permitted 
him  to  distinguish  white  from  black  he  spread  his  carpet  on  the  ground,  and 
with  his  face  turned  toward  Mecca  piously  performed  his  ablutions  and  said  his 
prayers.  This  done,  two  black  slaves  attired  in  scarlet  brought  him  his  pipe  and 
coffee.  AH  then  seated  himself  crossed-legged  on  a  divan,  and  there  remained 
the  livelong  day.  His  way  of  governing  was  to  drink  black,  bitter,  and  scalding 
Arabian  coffee  out  of  little  cups,  to  leisurely  smoke  Smyrna  tobacco  in  a  long 
narghil,  to  sleep,  to  do  nothing,  and  think  even  less.  Every  month,  it  is  true, 
there  came  an  order  from  Stamboul  enjoining  him  to  send  a  million  piasters,  the 
tax  of  the  pashawlik,to  the  imperial  treasury;  and  then  AH  rousing  himself  from 
his  ordinary  inertia,  would  call  before  him  the  richest  merchants  of  Bagdad,  and 
politely  demand  of  them  two  million  piasters.  These  poor  men  striking  their 
breasts  and  plucking  out  their  beards,  would  raise  their  hands  to  heaven,  and, 
with  tears,  would  swear  that  they  had  not  a  para,1  and  implore  the  pashaw  and 
the  sultan  to  have  pity  on  them.  Whereupon  AH,  continuing  to  sip  his  coffee, 
had  them  bastinadoed  on  the  soles  of  their  feet  until  the  money  which  they  said 
did  not  exist,  but  which  nevertheless  somehow  they  managed  to  produce,  was 
brought  to  him.  The  sum  counted  out,  the  faithful  governor  sent  half  to  the 
sultan,  and  threw  the  other  half  into  his  own  coffers,  and  then  he  returned  to  his 

1  The  para  is  less  than  a  half -penny. 


The  Shepherd  Pashaw. 


32T 


former  occupation.     Sometimes  on  those  occasions,  in  spite  of  his  exemplary 
patience,  he  used  to  complain  of  the  cares  of  greatness  and  the  fatigues  of  office ; 
but  the  next  day  he  thought  no  more  about  it,  and  the  following  month  hr  • 
would  collect  the  tax  with  his  usual  calmness  and  disinterestedness. 

Next  to  his  pipe, 
his  coffee,  and  money, 
what  AH  loved  best 
was  his  daughter, 
Eyes'  Delight.  He 
had  good  reason  to 
love  her,  for  in  his 
daughter,  as  in  a  living 
mirror,  Ali  saw  the 
reflection  of  himself 
and  all  his  virtues. 
As  indolent  as  she 
was  beautiful,  Eyes' 
Delight  could  not 
move  a  step  with- 
out three  women  al- 
ways at  hand  to  wait 
on  her ;  a  white  slave 
had  the  care  of  her 
toilet  and  coiffure,  a 
yellow  slave  held  her 
mirror  and  her  fan, 
and  a  black  slave 
amused  her  by  grim- 
aces and  received  her 
caresses  or  her  blows. 
Every  morning  the 
Pashaw's  daughter 
went  out  driving  in  a 
great  chariot  drawn 
by  bullocks ;  she  staid  three  hours  at  the  bath,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  she  spent 
in  visiting,  and  eating  candied  rose-leaves,  and  drinking  sherbets  made  from  the 
pomegranate,  and  looking  in  at  dancing-girls,  and  making  fun  of  her  friends. 


•J22  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

After  a  day  so  profitably  spent,  she  returned  to  the  palace,  embraced  her  father, 
and  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just.  Reading,  reflection,  embroidery,  and  music  were 
fatiguing,  so  Eyes'  Delight  took  care  to  leave  all  these  to  her  attendants.  When 
one  is  young  and  beautiful,  and  rich,  or  is  the  daughter  of  apashaw,  one  is  bound 
to  amuse  one's  self ;  and  what  can  be  more  amusing  or  more  delightful  than  to 
do  nothing?  Thus  the  Turks  reason,  and  how  many  Christians  there  are  who 
are  Turks  in  this  particular  ! 

Happiness  is  never  without  alloy  here  below,  otherwise  this  earth  would  make 
us  forget  heaven.  AH  found  this  to  be  the  case.  One  tax  day,  the  vigilant 
pashaw,  less  awake  than  usual,  had  by  mistake  ordered  a  Greek  raya  who  was  a 
protdgt  of  England,  to  be  bastinadoed.  The  victim  cried,  as  was  to  be  expected  ; 
but  the  English  consul,  who  would  stand  no  nonsense,  cried  louder  still ;  and 
England,  who  never  sleeps,  cried  loudest  of  all.  Extreme  indignation  was 
expressed  by  the  newspapers  and  in  Parliament,  and  strong  language  was  used 
at  Constantinople.  So  much  fuss  about  a  trifle  annoyed  the  sultan,  and  not 
being  able  to  get  rid  of  his  faithful  ally,  of  whom  he  stood  in  awe,  he  wanted  at 
least  to  rid  himself  of  the  pashaw,  the  innocent  cause  of  all  this  disturbance.  His 
highness's  first  idea  was  to  have  his  old  friend  bowstringed,  but  he  remembered 
that  the  punishment  of  a  Mussulma  nwould  afford  too  much  pleasure  to  those 
dogs  of  Christians  who  were  always  barking.  So  of  his  great  clemency,  the 
commander  of  the^ faithful  contented  himself  with  ordering  the  pashaw  to  be  cast 
on  some  desert  shore,  and  there  left  to  die  of  hunger. 

Luckily  for  AH,  his  successor  and  his  judge  was  an  old  pashaw  in  whom  age 
tempered  zeal,  and  who  knew  by  experience  that  a  sultan's  wishes  are  only  im- 
mutable in  theory.  He  said  to  himself  that  the  day  might  come  when  his 
highness  would  regret  an  old  friend,  and  that  he  might  then  be  pleased  with  a 
clemency  that  cost  him  nothing.  He  ordered  AH  and  his  daughter  to  be  brought 
to  him  privately,  supplied  them  with  the  dresses  of  slaves,  and  a  few  piasters,  and 
warned  them  that  if  they  should  be  found  in  the  pashawlik  the  next  day,  or  should 
they  ever  be  heard  of  again,  they  would  be  either  bowstringed  or  beheaded, 
whichever  they  preferred.  AH  thanked  him  for  his  goodness,  and  an  hour  after- 
ward  he  and  his  daughter  set  off  in  company  with  a  caravan  bound  for  Syria. 
1  he  same  evening  the  pashaw's  fall  and  banishment  were  proclaimed  in  the  streets 
gdad.  There  was  universal  rejoicing;  every  body  praised  the  justice  and 
valance  of  the  sultan,  whose  watchful  eye  was  ever  open  to  his  children's 

;ery   And  the  following  month  when  the  new  pashaw,  whose  hand  was  rather 
eavy,  demanded  two  and  a  half  millions  of  piasters,  the  good  people  of  Bagdad 


The   Shepherd  Pashaw.  323 

paid  them  without  a  murmur,  so  thankful  were  they  to  have  at  last  escaped  from 
the  clutches  of  the  brigand  who  had  robbed  them  with  impunity  for  so  many 
years. 

To  escape  with  one's  head  is  something,  but  still  it  is  not  every  thing.  One 
must  live,  and  that  is  a  hard  task  for  a  man  accustomed  to  depend  upon  the 
labor  and  the  money  of  others.  On  arriving  at  Damascus,  AH  found  himself 
without  resources.  Unknown  and  friendless,  he  was  dying  of  hunger ;  and, 
sadder  still  for  a  father,  he. saw  his  daughter  daily  growing  more  and  more  wan, 
and  fading  away  beside  him.  What  was  to  be  done  in  this  extremity  ?  Was  he 
to  beg  ?  That  were  unworthy  of  a  man  who  the  preceding  evening  had  a  people 
at  his  feet.  Was  he  to  work?  Ali  had  always  lived  in  a  dignified  manner,  and 
did  not  know  how  to  turn  his  hand  to  any  thing.  His  one  secret  when  he  had 
need  of  money  was  to  have  people  bastinadoed,  but  to  exercise  this  respectable 
industry  in  peace  :t  is  necessary  to  be  a  pashaw,  and  to  have  leave  from  the  sultan. 
Any  attempt  to  carry  on  an  amateur  trade  of  this  kind  has  its  risks  and  perils; 
the  perpetrator  exposes  himself  to  be  hanged  as  a  highwayman.  Pashaws  do  not 
approve  of  competition,  as  Ali  well  knew  ;  and  he  had  been  pleased  to  bow- 
string from  time  to  time  some  petty  thief  who  had  had  the  folly  to  encroach  on 
the  domain  of  his  betters. 

One  day  when  he  had  eaten  nothing,  and  Eyes'  Delight,  worn  out  with  fast- 
ing, could  not  rise  from  the  mat  on  which  she  was  lying,  Ali  wandered  out  along 
the  streets  of  Damascus  like  a  famished  wolf.  He  remarked  some  men  with  jars 
of  oil  on  their  heads  which  they  were  carrying  to  a  neighboring  shop.  At  the 
entrance  of  the  shop  was  a  clerk  who  paid  the  porters  a  para  for  each  journey. 
The  sight  of  this  little  copper-piece  made  the  old  pashaw's  heart  beat.  He  took 
his  place  in  the  file,  and  ascending  a  narrow  stair,  received  in  charge  an  enor- 
mous jar  which  he  had  great  difficulty  in  balancing  on  his  head,  even  when 
holding  it  with  both  hands. 

With  neck  bowed,  shoulders  squared,  and  knitted  brows,  Ali  was  coming  do-wn 
the  srairs  one  step  at  a  time,  when  at  the  third  step  he  felt  his  load  falling  for- 
ward. He  threw  himself  back,  but  his  foot  slipped,  and  he  rolled  to  the  bottom 
of  th<i  staircase  along  with  the  jar,  which  was  broken  to  pieces,  while  he  was 
deluged  by  the  river  of  oil.  As  he  picked  himself  up  much  ashamed,  he  felt 
himself  seized  by  the  scruff  of  his  neck  by  the  clerk  of  the  house. 

"  You  clumsy  fellow,"  said  the  last  mentioned,  "  pay  me  at  once  fifty  piasters 
to  make  up  for  the  damage  you  have  done,  and  leave  the  place  !  When  you  do 
not  understand  a  business,  you  had  better  not  meddle  with  it  in  future." 


-24  Laboulaye's  Fairy  Tales. 

«  Fifty  piasters !  "  cried  AH,  smiling  bitterly.  "  Where  do  you  want  me  to  get 
them  from?  I  have  not  a  para." 

"  If  you  can  not  pay  me  with  money,  you  must  pay  me  with  your  skin, 
replied  the  clerk  harshly. 

And  on  a  sign  from  the  man,  AH  was  seized  by  two  pair  of  strong  arms  and 
thrown  on  the  ground,  his  feet  secured  with  two  ropes,  and  there,  in  the  same 
attitude  in  which  he  had  so  often  seen  others,  he  received  on  the  soles  of  his 
feet  fifty  blows  from  a  stick  as  vigorously  applied  as  if  a  pashaw  had  presided  at 
the  execution.  He  got  up  bleeding  and  limping,  and  having  bound  some  rags 
round  his  feet,  dragged  himself  homeward,  sighing. 

"Allah  is  great,"  he  murmured  :  "it  is  just  that  I  should  suffer  what  I  have  so 
often  made  others  suffer.  But  the  Bagdad  merchants  that  I  caused  to  be  bastina- 
doed were  more  fortunate  than  I  ;  they  had  friends  to  pay  for  them,  while  I  am 
dying  of  hunger." 

He  was  mistaken.  A  kind-hearted  woman,  who,  accidentally  or  through  curi- 
osity, had  witnessed  his  misfortune,  took  pity  on  him.  She  gave  him  some  oil 
to  dress  his  wounds,  a  small  bag  of  flour,  and  a  few  handfuls  of  lentils  to  keep 
him  till  his  feet  should  be  healed,  and  that  evening  for  the  first  time  since  his 
fall,  AH  slept  peacefully,  without  anxiety  for  the  morrow. 

Nothing  sharpens  the  wits  like  illness  and  solitude.  In  his  enforced  seclusion, 
a  bright  idea  struck  AH. 

"  I  have  been  a  fool,"  thought  he,  "  to  undertake  porter's  work ;  a  pashaw  has 
not  a  strong  enough  head.  It  is  only  an  ox  who  has  that.  What  particularly 
distinguishes  people  of  my  rank  is  cleverness,  that  is  to  say  neat-handedness.  I 
was  a  first-rate  sportsman,  and  over  and  above  that  I  know  how  people  flatter 
and  how  they  lie.  I  am  a  good  judge,  for  I  have  been  a  pashaw.  I  will  choose  a 
calling  in  which  I  can  astonish  the  world  by  my  brilliant  qualities,  and  quickly 
acquire  an  honest  fortune." 

Whereupon  Ali  became  a  barber. 

At  first  all  went  well.  Our  new  barber's  master  made  him  draw  water,  clean 
out  the  shop,  shake  the  mats,  arrange  the  utensils,  and  serve  pipes  and  coffee  to 
the  customers.  In  all  these  delicate  matters  Ali  acquitted  himself  admirably. 
If  by  chance  the  head  of  some  peasant  from  the  mountains  was  intrusted  to 
him,  a  slip  of  the  razor  passed  unnoticed ;  those  good  people  are  thick  skinned, 
and,  being  well  aware  that  they  are  made  to  be  flayed,  a  little  more  or  a  little 
less  skin  off  makes  no  difference  to  them. 

One  morning,  in  his  master's  absence,  there  came  to  the  shop  a  great  person. 


The  Shepherd  Pas  haw.  325 

age,  the  mere  sight  of  whom  alarmed  poor  Ali.  It  was  the  pashaw's  buffoon,  ahorri- 
ble  little  hunchback,  with  a  head  like  a  pumpkin,  long  hairy  hands,  rolling  eyes, 
and  the  teeth  of  a  monkey.  While  Ali  poured  the  perfumed  lather  over  his 
head,  the  buffoon  lying  on  his  back  on  the  chair  amused  himself  with  pinching 
the  new  barber,  laughing  in  his  face,  and  putting  out  his  tongue  at  him.  Twice 
he  made  him  drop  the  soap-dish,  which  delighted  him  so  much  both  times  that 
he  threw  him  four  paras.  However,  the  prudent  Ali  kept  his  countenance ; 
wholly  occupied  with  the  care  of  such  a  precious  head,  he  used  the  razor  as 
carefully  and  delicately  as  possible,  when  all  at  once  the  hunchback  made  a 
hideous  grimace  and  screamed,  so  that  the  barber,  suddenly  startled,  withdrew 
his  hand,  carrying  off  at  the  end  of  the  razor  half  an  ear  which  was  not  his  own. 

Buffoons  like  to  laugh  but  at  other  people's  expense.  There  are  no  people 
more  thin-skinned  than  those  who  are  fond  of  laughing  at  their  neighbors. 

To  fall  tooth  and  nail  upon  Ali  and  almost  strangle  him,  crying  "Murder; 
murder  !  "  was  the  work  of  a  moment  with  the  hunchback.  Luckily  for  Ali  the 
gash  was  so  deep  that  the  wounded  man  was  obliged  to  attend  to  his  ear,  which 
was  bleeding  profusely.  Ali  profited  by  a  favorable  moment,  and  fled  through 
the  streets  of  Damascus  with  the  swiftness  of  a  man  who  knew  that  if  he  were 
caught  he  would  be  hanged. 

After  many  windings  and  turnings,  he  managed  to  hide  himself  in  an  empty 
cellar,  and  did  not  dare  to  regain  his  dwelling  till  he  could  do  so  under  cover 
of  night.  To  remain  at  Damascus  after  such  an  accident  was  certain  death,  so 
Ali  had  no  difficulty  in  convincing  his  daughter  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary 
to  set  off  immediately.  Their  luggage  did  not  hamper  them,  and  before  morn- 
ing they  had  gained  the  mountains.  During  three  days  they  walked  without 
stopping,  having  nothing  to  eat  beyond  a  few  figs  gathered  from  trees  by  the 
roadside,  and  a  little  water  which  they  found  with  great  difficulty  at  the  bottom 
of  some  nearly  dry  watercourses.  But  there  is  a  silver  lining  to  every  cloud, 
and  the  truth  is,  that  never  in  all  the  time  of  their  splendor  and  magnificence 
had  the  pashaw  and  his  daughter  eaten  and  drunk  with  such  excellent  appetites., 

At  their  last  halting  place  the  fugitives  were  welcomed  by  a  worthy  peasant, 
who  largely  practiced  the  sacred  duty  of  hospitality.  After  supper  he  talked 
with  Ali,  and  seeing  him  without  resources,  he  offered  to  take  him  as  his  shepherd. 
To  lead  a  score  of  goats,  followed  by  half  a  hundred  sheep,  to  the  mountains, 
was  not  a  difficult  task  ;  two  good  dogs  did  the  hardest  part  of  the  work ;  there 
was  no  risk  of  being  beaten  for  clumsiness,  and  there  would  be  no  stint  of  milk 
and  cheese  ;  and  if  the  farmer  did  not  give  a  para,  at  least  he  allowed  Eyes' 


326 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


Delight  to  take  as  much  wool  as  she  could  spin  to  make  her  own  and  her  father's 
clothes.  Ali,  who  had  only  the  alternative  of  dying  of  hunger  or  being  hanged, 
had  not  much  difficulty  in  deciding  to  lead  a  patriarchal  life.  The  very  next  day 
he  made  a  beginning,  and  went  off  to  the  mountains  with  his  daughter,  and  the 
dogs,  and  the  flock  of  sheep. 

Once  in  the  meadows,  Ali  relapsed  into  his  natural  indolent  habits  ;  lying  down 
and  smoking  his  pipe,  he  spent  his  time  in  watching  the  birds  wheeling  in  the 

air.  Poor  Eyes'  De- 
light was  not  so  pa- 
tient ;  she  thought 
of  Bagdad,  and  her 
distaff  did  not  make 
her  forget  the  happy 
days  that  were  past. 
"  Father,"  she  of- 
ten said,  "what  is 
life  worth  if  it  is 
only  one  long  misery-? 
Would  it  not  be  bet- 
ter to  have  done  \vith 
it  at  once  than  to  die 
by  inches?" 

"  Allah  is  great, 
my  daughter,"  re- 
plied the  wise  shep- 
herd. "What  he 
does  is  well  done.  I 
have  rest  in  my  old 
age,  and  that  is  the 
best  thing  one  can 
have  ;  so,  as  you  see, 
I  resign  myself.  Ah, 
if  only  I  had  learned 
some  trade.  As  for 
you,  you  have  youth 
and  hope ;  you  can 

-turn  of  fortune.     What  a  conso,ation  that  o,,^  to  be  to  *°?  tO   """   "" 


The  Shepherd  Pashaw.  327 

"  I  am  resigned,  dear  father,"  said  Eyes'  Delight,  with  a  sigh,  but  she  was  the 
less  resigned  because  she  hoped  the  more. 

Ali  had  led  this  peaceful  life  in  solitude  for  over  a  year,  when  one  morning  the 
son  of  the  Pashaw  of  Damascus  went  hunting  in  the  mountains.  In  the  pursuit  of 
a  wounded  bird  he  lost  his  way.  Alone  and  separated  from  his  attendants,  he 
tried  to  regain  his  road  by  following  the  course  of  a  stream  as  it  descended  the 
mountain,  when  in  rounding  a  rock  he  suddenly  caught  sight  of  a  young  girl,  who, 
seated  on  the  grass  with  her  feet  dangling  in  the  water,  was  plaiting  her  long  hair. 

At  the  sight  of  this  lovely  creature  a  cry  escaped  Yousouf. 

Eyes'  Delight  raised  her  eyes,  and  alarmed  at  seeing  a  stranger,  fled  to  her 
father  and  disappeared  from  the  gaze  of  the  astonished  prince. 

"  Who  is  that  ?  "  thought  Yousouf.  "  The  mountain  flower  is  sweeter  and 
fresher  than  our  garden  roses.  This  daughter  of  the  desert  is  more  beautiful 
than  our  sultanas.  She  is  the  wife  of  my  dreams." 

He  followed  the  footsteps  of  the  mysterious  maiden  as  fast  as  the  stones  per- 
mitted  him.  At  length  he  found  Eyes'  Delight  busy  milking  the  goats,  while 
Ali  called  off  the  dogs,  whose  furious  barking  gave  notice  of  the  arrival  of  a 
stranger.  Yousouf  told  them  how  he  had  lost  his  way,  and  was  dying  of  thirst. 
Eyes'  Delight  quickly  brought  him  a  great  earthen  vessel  full  of  milk  ;  he  drank 
slowly ;  without  speaking  a  word  he  looked  at  father  and  daughter,  and  at  last 
made  up  his  mind  to  ask  his  way.  Ali,  followed  by  his  two  dogs,  conducted  the 
sportsman  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  then  returned  trembling  in  every 
limb.  The  stranger  had  given  him  a  piece  of  gold,  so  he  must  needs  be  some 
one  about  the  court,  or  perhaps  a  pashaw.  According  to  Ali,  who  judged  others 
by  himself,  a  pashaw  was  a  man  who  could  only  do  evil,  and  whose  friendship  was 
not  less  to  be  feared  than  his  enmity. 

On  arriving  at  Damascus  Yousouf  hastened  to  his  mother,  and,  throwing  his 
arms  round  her  neck,  he  assured  her  she  was  as  lovely  as  she  was  at  sixteen,  and 
as  brilliant  as  the  full  moon  ;  that  she  was  his  only  friend,  and  the  only  person  he 
loved  in  the  wide  world  ;  and  saying  this,  he  kissed  her  hand  again  and  again. 

His  mother  smiled. 

"  My  son,"  she  said,  "  you  have  something  to  confide  to  me  ;  speak  out.  I  do 
not  know  if  I  am  as  beautiful  as  you  say,  but  I  do  know  that  you  cannot  have  a 
truer  friend  than  your  mother." 

Yousouf  required  no  pressing;  he  longed  to  tell  all  he  had  seen  in  the 
mountains;  he  drew  a  marvelous  picture  of  the  lovely  stranger,  declared  he 
could  not  live  without  her.  and  that  he  would  marry  her  the  very  next  day. 


-2g  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

"  Have  a  little  patience,  my  son,"  his  mother  repeated  ;  "  let  us  learn  who  this 
miracle  of  beauty  is,  and  after  that  we  will  consult  your  father,  and  gam  his 
consent  to  this  happy  union." 

When  the  pashaw  heard  of  his  son's  passion,  he  began  by  protesting,  and  fin- 
ished  by  getting  in  a  rage. 

"Was  there  any  lack  at  Damascus  of  rich  and  beautiful  heiresses,  that  he 
should  go  into  the  desert  to  find  a  girl  who  was  a  shepherdess  ?  Never  would 
he  consent  to  such  a  dreadful  marriage.  Never! " 

Never  is  a  word  a  wise  man  should  never  make  use  of  when  his  wife  and  son 
are  in  league  against  him.  Before  eight  days  had  elapsed  the  pashaw,  moved  by 
the  tears  of  the  mother  and  the  silence  and  pale  face  of  the  son,  yielded,  tired  of 
the  conflict.  But  like  a  strong  man,  and  one  who  respects  himself,  he  declared 
that  he  was  doing  a  foolish  thing,  and  that  he  knew  it. 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  he ;  "  let  my  son  marry  the  shepherdess,  and  let  his  folly 
return  upon  his  own  head.  I  wash  my  hands  of  the  whole  concern.  But  that 
nothing  shall  be  wanting  to  this  absurd  union,  let  my  buffoon  be  called.  He  is 
the  most  suitable  person  to  go  and  fetch  this  wretched  shepherdess,  who  has 
cast  a  spell  over  my  house." 

An  hour  later  the  hunchback,  astride  upon  an  ass,  was  on  his  way  to  the 
mountain,  cursing  the  pashaw's  caprice  and  Yousouf's  falling  in  love.  Was  there 
any  sense  in  sending  a  delicate  man,  born  to  live  under  the  roof  of  a  palace, 
whose  wit  was  the  delight  of  princes  and  nobles,  on  an  embassy  to  a  shepherd  ? 
But  alas !  fortune  is  blind,  it  raises  fools  to  eminence,  and  reduces  to  the  trade  of 
a  buffoon  the  man  of  genius  who  does  not  wish  to  die  of  starvation. 

Three  fatiguing  days  had  not  soothed  the  hunchback's  ill-humor  when  he 
descried  AH  reposing  under  the  shade  of  a  locust  tree,  and  more  occupied  with 
his  pipe  than  his  sheep.  The  buffoon  set  spurs  to  his  ass,  and  approached  the 
shepherd  with  the  dignity  of  a  grand  vizier. 

"You  rascal,"  said  he,  " you  have  bewitched  the  pashaw's  son  !  He  does  you 
the  honor  of  demanding  your  daughter's  hand  in  marriage.  Clean  up  this  mount- 
ain pearl  as  quickly  as  possible  ;  I  must  take  her  back  with  me  to  Damascus. 
As  to  you,  the  pashaw  sends  you  this  purse,  and  commands  you  to  leave  the 
country  as  soon  as  possible." 

AH  allowed  the  purse  to  drop  which  was  thrown  at  him,  and,  without  turning 
his  head,  asked  the  hunchback  what  he  wanted. 

*'  Rude  fellow,"  replied  the  latter,  "  did  you  not  hear  me  ?  The  pashaw's  son 
is  going  to  marry  your  daughter." 


The  Shepherd  Pas  haw.  320 

"  What  does  the  pashaw's  son  do?"  said  AH. 

"  What  does  he  do  ?  "  the  hunchback  exclaimed,  bursting  out  laughing.  "  You 
double-dyed  idiot,  do  you  imagine  that  such  a  lofty  personage  is  a  boor  like 
yourself  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  the  pashaw  divides  with  the  sultan  the  taxes 
of  the  province,  and  that  out  of  the  forty  sheep  you  take  such  bad  care  of  four 
belong  to  him  of  right,  and  thirty-six  he  can  take  if  he  chooses  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  speak  of  the  pashaw,"  quietly  returned  AH  ;  "  may  Allah  preserve 
his  highness  !  I  ask  you  what  his  son  does ?  Is  he  an  armorer? " 

"  No,  stupid." 

"  Is  he  a  blacksmith?" 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  A  carpenter  ?  " 

"No." 

"A  lime-burner?" 

"No,  no.  He  is  a  great  noble.  Do  you  not  understand,  thrice-doited  fool! 
It  is  only  common  people  who  work.  A  pashaw's  son  is  a  noble — that  is  to  say, 
he  has  white  hands  and  does  nothing." 

"  Then  he  cannot  have  my  daughter,"  said  the  shepherd,  gravely.  "  House- 
keeping is  expensive,  and  I  will  never  give  my  child  to  a  husband  who  cannot 
support  his  wife.  But  perhaps  the  pashaw's  son  has  some  trade  less  rough  than 
those  I  mentioned.  Perhaps  he  is  an  embroiderer  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  hunchback,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"Tailor?" 

"No." 

"Potter?" 

"  No." 

"Basket-maker?" 

"No." 

"  Then  he  is  a  barber  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  hunchback,  purple  with  rage.  "  Have  done  with  this  stupid 
joke  or  I  will  beat  you  unmercifully.  Call  your  daughter.  I  am  in  haste." 

"  My  daughter  will  not  go  with  you,"  answered  the  shepherd. 

He  whistled  to  his  dogs,  who  came  up  growling  and  showing  their  teeth  in  a 
way  that  only  moderately  pleased  the  pashaw's  emissary. 

He  remounted  his  ass,  and  shaking  his  fist  at  AH,  who  was  holding  back  his 
dogs,  bristling  with  rage — 

"  Rascal,"   he   cried,   "  you  will  soon  hear  of  me  !     You  will  learn  the  cost 


330  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

of  setting  up  your  own  will  against  that  of  the  pashaw  who  is  your  and  my 

master." 

The  buffoon  returned  to  Damascus  with  his  half  ear  lower  than  usual.  Lucktly 
for  him  the  pashaw  took  the  whole  affair  in  good  part.  It  was  a  slight  check  to- 
his  wife  and  son,  while  it  was  a  triumph  for  himself ;  a  double  success  which 
tickled  his  pride  very  agreeably. 

"  Really,"  he  said,  "  the  worthy  man  is  a  still  greater  fool  than  my  son ;  but 
be  tranquil,  Yousouf,  a  pashaw's  word  is  to  be  depended  on.  I  am  going  to  send 
four  horsemen  to  the  mountains  who  will  bring  back  the  daughter.  As  to  the 
father,  do  not  worry  yourself ;  I  have  an  unanswerable  argument  for  him."  And 
so  saying  he  cheerfully  made  a  gesture  with  his  hand  as  if  he  were  cutting  down, 
something  in  front  of  him  which  annoyed  him. 

On  a  sign  from  his  mother,  Yousouf  rose  and  implored  his  father  to  leave  to- 
him  the  trouble  of  bringing  this  little  business  to  a  successful  termination.  No 
doubt  the  means  he  proposed  were  irresistible ;  but  Eyes'  Delight  was  probably 
fond  of  her  father,  she  would  cry,  and  the  pashaw  would  be  sorry  to  sadden  the 
first  bright  days  of  a  marriage.  Yousouf  hoped  that  with  a  little  gentleness  he 
should  easily  overcome  an  opposition  which  did  not  seem  to  him  serious. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  pashaw.  "  You  think  you  are  cleverer  than  your  father  • 
that  is  always  the  way  with  sons.  Do  as  you  like  ;  but  I  warn  you  that  from 
to-day  I  shall  not  take  any  further  trouble  in  your  affairs.  If  this  old  fool  of  a 
shepherd  refuses  you,  that  will  be  your  look  out.  I  would  give  a  thousand 
piasters  to  see  you  come  back  looking  as  foolish  as  the  hunchback." 

Ali  received  Yousouf  with  all  the  respect  due  to  the  pashaw's  son.  He  thanked 
him  heartily  for  his  honorable  proposal,  but  he  was  not  in  any  way  to  be  moved 
to  change  his  mind.  No  trade,  no  marriage!  It  was  for  him  to  take  it  or  leave 
it.  The  young  man  counted  on  Eyes'  Delight  coming  to  his  aid ;  but  Eyes* 
Delight  was  not  visible,  and  the  very  good  reason  why  she  did  not  disobey  her 
father  was  that  the  prudent  Ali  had  not  told  her  one  word  about  the  proposed 
marriage.  Ever  since  the  hunchback's  visit  he  had  carefully  kept  her  in  the 
house. 

Crestfallen,  the  pashaw's  son  descended  the  mountain.  What  was  he  to  do? 
Return  to  Damascus  to  be  the  butt  of  his  father's  raillery?  Never  would 
Yousouf  resign  himself  to  that!  Lose  Eyes'  Delight?  Death,  rather  than 
that !  Make  that  obstinate  old  shepherd  change  his  mind  ?  Yousouf  could  not 
hope  for  such  success,  and  he  almost  regretted  that  he  had  failed  by  his 
gentleness. 


The  Shepherd  Pas  haw.  ^\ 

In  the  midst  of  these  sad  reflections  he  noticed  that  his  horse,  which  he  had 
left  to  its  own  devices,  had  strayed.  Yousouf  found  himself  on  the  verge  of  a 
wood  of  olive  trees.  In  the  distance  was  a  village,  where  the  blue  smoke  curled 
over  the  roofs,  and  the  barking  of  dogs  was  to  be  heard,  the  song  of  workmen, 
and  the  noise  of  the  hammer  and  anvil. 

An  idea  occurred  to  Yousouf.  What  was  there  to  prevent  him  learning  a 
trade  ?  Was  not  Eyes'  Delight  worth  any  sacrifice  ?  The  young  man  tied  up 
his  horse  to  an  olive  tree,  and  hung  on  it  his  weapons,  his  embroidered  jacket, 
and  turban.  At  the  first  house  in  the  village  he  complained  of  having  been 
robbed  by  the  Bedouins,  bought  some  common  clothes,  and,  disguised  in  this 
way,  he  went  from  door  to  door  offering  himself  as  an  apprentice. 

Yousouf's  appearance  was  so  prepossessing  that  every  one  received  him 
cordially ;  but  the  conditions  frightened  him.  The  blacksmith  required  two 
years  to  teach  him  his  business,  the  potter  one  year,  the  mason  six  months;  why, 
it  was  a  century  !  The  pashaw's  son  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  such  a  long 
apprenticeship,  when  he  heard  a  squeaky  voice  calling  him. 

"  Hulloa,  my  son,"  it  cried,  "if  you  are  in  a  hurry,  and  have  no  ambition, 
come  along  with  me  ;  in  a  week  I  will  teach  you  to  gain  your  own  livelihood." 

Yousouf  raised  his  head.  A  few  steps  in  front  of  him  a  fat  little  man  was 
sitting  on  a  bench,  with  crossed  legs  and  a  merry,  jovial  face.  He  was  a  basket- 
maker,  and  round  him  were  strewn  straw  and  rushes  dyed  all  colors.  With  deft 
hand  he  was  plaiting  the  straw,  which  he  then  sewed  to  make  into  baskets, 
hampers,  mats,  and  hats  of  different  shapes  and  shades.  It  was  a  pleasant 
sight. 

"  You  shall  be  my  master,"  said  Yousouf,  grasping  the  basket-maker's  hand  ; 
"  and  if  you  can  teach  me  your  trade  in  two  days,  I  will  pay  you  well  for  your 
trouble.  Here  is  the  earnest  money." 

So  saying,  he  threw  a  couple  of  gold  pieces  to  the  astonished  workman. 

An  apprentice  who  throws  gold  about  so  profusely  is  not  a  sight  to  be  seen 
every  day,  and  the  basket-maker  never  doubted  but  that  he  had  to  do  with  a 
prince  in  disguise,  so  he  did  wonders.  And  as  his  pupil  was  not  wanting  in  intelli- 
gence and  willingness  to  learn,  before  evening  he  had  taught  him  all  the  secrets 
of  his  trade. 

"  My  son,"  he  said,  "  your  education  is  finished.  You  shall  judge  for  yourself 
whether  your  master  has  earned  his  money.  The  sun  is  setting,  and  every  one 
now  leaves  off  work  and  goes  past  my  door.  Take  the  mat  that  you  have  plaited 
and  sewn  with  your  own  hands  and  offer  it  to  the  passers-by.  If  I  am  not  very 


332  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

much  mistaken,  you  will  get  four  paras  for  it,  and  that  for  a  first  attempt  is  r. 
nice  little  sum." 

The  basket-maker  was  not  mistaken  ;  the  first  customer  offered  three  paras, 
and  Yousouf  demanded  five,  and  an  hour  was  spent  in  discussion  and  screaming, 
till  the  customer  decided  on  giving  four.  He  drew  out  his  long  purse,  looked 
several  times  at  the  mat,  criticised  it,  and  at  last  made  up  his  mind  to  pay  his 
four  copper  pieces  one  after  the  other.  But  instead  of  taking  the  money,  You- 
souf gave  a  gold  piece  to  the  customer,  counted  out  ten  to  the  basket-maker, 
and  carrying  off  with  him  his  piece  of  work,  left  the  village  at  full  speed  like  a 
madman.  On  reaching  the  place  where  he  had  tied  up  his  horse,  he  spread  his 
mat  on  the  ground,  enveloped  his  head  in  his  burnous,  and  slept.  It  was  a 
broken  sleep,  yet  the  sweetest  he  had  ever  known  in  his  life. 

At  daybreak,  when  Ali  went  with  his  sheep  to  the  pasturage,  he  was  much 
surprised  to  see  Yousouf  already  installed  before  him  under  the  old  carob-tree. 
As  soon  as  he  caught  sight  of  the  shepherd,  the  young  man  rose,  and  taking  up 
the  mat  on  which  he  was  lying — 

"  My  father,"  he  said,  "  you  have  required  me  to  iearn  a  trade  and  I  have  done 
so ;  this  is  my  work,  examine  it." 

"  It  is  very  nice,"  said  Ali.  "  If  it  is  not  very  well  plaited,  it  is  honestly 
sewn.  How  much  can  you  gain  a  day  by  making  a  mat  like  that  ?  " 

"  Four  paras,"  said  Yousouf ;  "and  with  a  little  practice  I  should  make  two  in 
less  than  a  day." 

"  Let  us  be  modest,"  replied  Ali ;  "  modesty  is  becoming  in  a  beginner. 
Four  paras  a  day  is  not  much,  but  four  paras  to-day  and  four  paras  to-morrow, 
that  makes  eight  paras,  and  four  more  the  day  after  make  twelve  paras.  In 
short  it  is  a  trade  by  which  a  man  can  get  a  living  ;  and  if  I  had  had  the  sense 
to  learn  it  when  I  was  pashaw  I  should  never  have  been  reduced  to  become  a 
shepherd." 

At  these  words  Yousouf  was  extremely  astonished.  Then  Ali  told  him  his  whole 

history ;  it  was  at  the  risk  of  losing  his  head,  but  a  little  pride  may  be  forgiven 

to  a  father.     In  giving  him  his  daughter,  Ali  was  not  sorry  for  the  opportunity 

f  letting  his  future  son-in-law  know  that  Eyes'  Delight  was  not  an  unworthy 

bride  for  the  son  cf  a  pashaw. 

That  day  the  sheep  were  led  home  before  the  right  time,  for  Yousouf  wanted 
thank  the  honest  farmer  himself  for  his  kindness  to  poor  Ali  and  his  daughter. 
[e  gave  him  a  purse  filled  with  gold  to  reward  him  for  his  charity.     A  man  is 
never  so  liberal  as  when  he  is  happy. 


The  Shepherd  Pas  haw.  333 

Eyes'  Delight,  on  being  presented  to  the  sportsman,  and  being  told  of 
Yousouf's  proposals,  declared  that  a  daughter's  first  duty  was  to  obey  her  father. 
In  similar  cases,  it  is  said,  daughters  are  very  obedient  in  Turkey. 

The  same  day,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  they  started  for  Damascus.  Their 
horses  were  light  and  their  hearts  lighter  still,  and  they  went  like  the  wind. 
Before  the  close  of  the  second  day  they  had  reached  their  journey's  end. 
Yousouf  presented  his  betrothed  to  his  mother.  How  delighted  the  sultana  was 
it  is  unnecessary  to  say.  After  the  first  embraces  were  over  she  could  not  resist 
the  pleasure  of  showing  her  husband  that  she  was  cleverer  than  he  was,  so  she 
disclosed  to  him  the  birth  of  the  lovely  Eyes'  Delight. 

"  By  Allah  !  "  cried  the  pashaw,  stroking  his  long  beard  in  order  to  put  a  good 
face  on  the  matter  and  hide  his  confusion.  "You  think,  madam,  that  you  can 
surprise  a  statesman  like  myself?  As  if  I  should  have  consented  to  this  match 
if  I  had  not  known  all  along  the  secret  that  so  surprises  you !  Are  you  not 
aware  that  a  pashaw  knows  every  thing  ?  " 

'  And  that  very  instant  he  went  into  his  study  to  write  to  the  sultan  to  inquire 
his  will  concerning  AH.  He  had  no  wish  to  offend  his  Highness  for  the  sake  of 
the  beaux  yeux  of  a  proscribed  family.  Youth  loves  romance  in  life,  but  the 
pashaw  was  a  man  of  the  world,  who  intended  to  live  and  die  a  pashaw. 

All  sultans  are  fond  of  being  told  stories,  if  we  may  believe  the  Arabian 
Nights.  Ali's  former  protector  was  no  unworthy  descendant  of  the  old  stock. 
He  sent  a  ship  to  Syria  on  purpose  to  fetch  the  ex-governor  of  Bagdad  to  Con- 
stantinople. Ali,  clad  in  rags,  and  crook  in  hand,  was  conducted  to  the  Seraglio, 
and  there,  before  a  numerous  audience,  had  the  honor  of  amusing  his  master  a 
whole  evening. 

When  Ali  had  finished  his  narrative,  the  sultan  put  upon  him  the  robe  of 
honor.  His  Highness  had  turned  him  from  a  pashaw  into  a  shepherd,  and  now, 
determined  to  astonish  the  world  by  a  fresh  display  of  his  power,  from  a 
shepherd  he  turned  Ali  into  a  pashaw. 

At  this  striking  proof  of  favor  the  whole  court  applauded.  Ali,  however, 
threw  himself  at  the  sultan's  feet,  and  declined  an  honor  which  had  no  attraction 
for  him.  He  said  he  had  no  wish  to  risk  displeasing  the  master  of  the  world  a 
second  time,  and  he  only  asked  to  be  allowed  to  go  down  to  his  grave  in  ob- 
scurity, blessing  the  generous  hand  that  had  brought  him  up  from  the  abyss  into 
which  he  had  justly  fallen. 

Ali's  boldness  alarmed  the  court,  but  the  sultan  smiled. 

"  Allah  is  great !  "  he  exclaimed,  "and  every  day  provides  us  with  a  fresh  sur- 
prise. In  my  reign  of  twenty  years  this  is  the  first  time  that  one  of  my  subjects 


234  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

has  begged  to  be  nothing.  On  account  of  the  rarity  of  the  fact,  Ali,  I  grant  you 
your  request.  All  I  insist  upon  is  that  you  accept  this  gift  of  a  thousand  purses.1 
Nobody  is  allowed  to  leave  me  empty-handed." 

On  his  return  to  Damascus  Ali  bought  a  beautiful  garden  full  of  orange  and ' 
lemon  trees,  apricots,  plums,  and  grapes,  in  which  it  was  his  delight  to  dig  and 
weed  and  graft  and  prune  and  water.  Every  evening  he  lay  down  tired  in  body 
but  with  a  contented  mind,  and  every  morning  he  rose  up  rested  and  refreshed, 
with  an  agile  body  and  a  light  heart. 

Eyes'  Delight  had  three  sons,  all  more  beautiful  than  their  mother,  and  the 
aged  Ali  undertook  their  education.  To  all  of  them  he  taught  gardening,  and 
each  he  apprenticed  to  a  different  trade.  To  impress  upon  their  hearts  the 
truths  that  he  had  understood  for  the  first  time  when  he  was  in  exile,  Ali  had 
inscribed  on  the  walls  of  his  house  and  garden  the  finest  passages  from  the  Koran, 
and  below  these  he  had  placed  the  following  wise  maxims,  which  the  Prophet 
himself  would  not  have  disowned  : 

"  Work  is  the  true  riches  which  never  fail.  Make  use  of  thine  hands  in  work 
and  thou  wilt  never  stretch  them  forth  in  beggary.  When  thou  knowest  what 
it  costs  to  earn  one  para,  thou  wilt  respect  the  property  and  the  labor  of  thy 
fellow-man.  Work  gives  health,  wisdom,  and  happiness.  Work  and  ennui  dwell 
not  together." 

Surrounded  by  these  sage  precepts  the  three  sons  of  Eyes'  Delight  grew  up  to 
man  s  estate.  They  all  became  pashaws,  and  one  cannot  help  wondering  if  they 
profited  by  their  grandfather's  maxims.  I  like  to  believe  that  they  did,  although 
the  annals  of  Turkey  are  silent  on  the  subject. 

1  About  i2,ooo/. 


THE  CASTLE  OF  LIFE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SOME  years  ago  I  was  staying  at  Capri,  that  most  charming  island  in  the 
Gulf  of  Naples.  It  was  a  lovely  autumn  day,  so  still  and  bright,  that  I 
was  tempted  to  go  by  boat  to  Psestum,  stopping  on  my  way  at  Amain  and 
Salerno.  The  thing  was  easily  done,  for  on  the  shore  were  some  fishermen  re- 
turning to  the  mainland  who  were  quite  ready  to  take  a  stranger  back  with  them. 
On  stepping  into  their  boat  I  found  four  good-looking  sailors  at  the  oars,  with 
brawny  arms  and  sunburned  faces,  and  with  them  a  little  girl  of  eight  or  ten  years 
old,  sturdy  and  rosy  cheeked,  with  sparkling  black  eyes,  who  by  turns  ordered 
the  crew  about,  and  coaxed  them  to  obey  her  wishes  with  all  the  dignity  of  an 
Italian  and  the  grace  of  a  child.  This  was  the  owner's  daughter ;  I  was  sure  of 
it  from  the  proud  smile  with  which  he  pointed  her  out  to  me  when  I  entered  the 
boat.  Once  fairly  out  to  sea,  and  each  man  at  his  oar,  finding  myself  the  only 
idle  one  of  the  party,  I  took  the  child  on  my  knee  for  a  talk,  so  as  to  hear  from 
her  childish  lips  the  sweet  Neapolitan  patois. 

"  Speak  to  her,  yo.ur  excellency,"  cried  the  ship's  owner,  with  an  air  of  triumph. 
"  Do  not  be  afraid  of  listening  to  the  marchesina,  for,  little  as  she  is,  she  knows 
as  much  as  a  canoness.  If  you  like  she  will  tell  you  the  history  of  the  king  of 
Starza  Longa,  who  married  his  daughter  to  a  snake,  or  else  the  story  of  Var- 
diello,  whose  stupidity  won  him  a  fortune.  Or  would  you  prefer  to  hear  the 
Enchanted  Hind,  or  the  ogre  who  gave  Antonio  di  Maregliano  the  stick  which 
did  its  duty,  or  the  Castle  of  Life?" 

4  Let  us  have  the  Castle  of  Life  ! "  I  exclaimed,  anxious  to  interrupt  this 
string  of  names  of  stories,  as  numerous  as  the  beads  of  a  rosary. 

"  Nunziata,  my  child,"  said  the  fisherman  in  a  solemn  voice,  "  tell  his  excel- 
lency the  story  of  the  Castle  of  Life  which  your  mother  has  told  you  so  often; 


336 


The  Castle  of  Life. 


and  you,"  added  he,  turning  to  the  rowers,  "try  and  beat  the  water  as  little  as 
possible,  so  that  we  also  can  hear  the  tale." 

It  was  in  this  way  that  for  more  than  an  hour,  while  our  boat  glided  noise- 
lessly  through  the  calm  waters,  and  a  mild  October  sun  empurpled  the  mount- 
ains  and  made  the  sea  sparkle,  all  five  of  us,  silent  and  attentive,  listened  to  the 
child  who  spoke  of  fairyland  in  the  midst  of  a  scene  enchantingly  beautiful. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  began  Nunziata,  gravely, 
there  lived  at  Salerno  a  good  old  woman,  a 
fish-wife  by  trade,  whose  sole  treasure  and  support 
was  her  grandson,  a  boy  twelve  years  old.  He  was 
a  poor  orphan,  whose  father  had  been  drowned  one 
stormy  night,  and  whose  mother  had  died  of  grief. 
Grazioso,  for  so  he  was  called,  had  but  his  grand- 
mother to  love.  He  used  to  go  with  her  every 
morning  before  dawn  to  gather  shellfish,  or  drag  a 
net  along  the  shore,  while  he  waited  for  the  time 
when  he  should  be  strong  enough  to  go  fishing  by 
himself  and  brave  those  waters  which  had  been  the 
death  of  his  parents.  He  was  so  handsome  and 
engaging  that  from  the  moment  he  entered  the 
town  with  his  basket  of  fish  on  his  head  every  body 
ran  after  him,  and  he  sold  all  his  fish  before  even  arriving  at  the  market. 

Unhappily  his  grandmother  was  very  old ;  she  had  only  one  tooth  left  in  her 
head ;  her  eyes  were  so  dim  that  she  could  scarcely  see,  and  her  head  shook  with 
palsy.  Each  morning  found  her  weaker,  and  increased  her  difficulty  in  getting 
about,  and  she  felt  her  end  was  drawing  near.  So  every  evening  before  Grazioso 
wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket  and  lay  down  on  the  floor  she  used  to  give  him 
good  advice  to  prepare  him  for  the  time  when  he  should  be  left  all  alone.  She 
used  to  tell  him  which  fishermen  to  be  friends  with,  and  which  were  better  avoided, 
and,  how,  if  he  were  always  gentle  and  industrious,  wise  and  prudent,  he  would 
make  his  way  in  the  world,  and  finish  by  having  a  boat  and  nets  of  his  own. 
The  poor  boy  refused  to  listen  to  all  this  wisdom.  As  soon  as  the  old  woman 
began  to  speak  in  a  grave  voice,  he  would  say — 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  337 

"  Grandmother,  grandmother,  thou  must  never  leave  me.  I  have  arms,  and  I 
am  strong,  and  soon  I  shall  be  able  to  work  for  us  both ;  but  if,  on  returning 
from  fishing,  I  should  not  find  thee  at  home,  how  could  I  live?  " 

And  then  he  would  embrace  her,  weeping. 

"  My  child,"  said  the  old  woman,  one  day,  "  I  shall  not  leave  thee  as  solitary 
as  thou  fearest.  When  I  am  gone  thou  wilt  have  two  protectresses  that  a  prince 
might  envy.  Some  long  time  ago  I  rendered  a  service  to  two  great  ladies,  who 
will  never  forget  thee  when  the  time  comes  for  thee  to  call  them  to  thine  aid, 
which  will  now  be  soon." 

"Who  are  these  two  great  ladies?"  inquired  Grazioso,  who  had  only  seen  fish- 
wives in  his  grandmother's  hut. 

"  They  are  two  fairies,"  replied  his  grandmother ;  "  two  great  fairies — the  fairy 
of  the  water  and  the  fairy  of  the  woods.  Listen  to  me,  my  child ;  this  is  a 
secret  that  I  must  confide  to  thee — a  secret  that  thou  must  keep  as  I  have  done, 
and  which  will  insure  thee  fortune  and  happiness.  Ten  years  ago,  the  same 
year  thy  father  died  and  thy  mother  too  left  us,  I  had  gone  out  at  daybreak  to 
catch  the  crabs  asleep  in  the  sand,  and  was  stooping  down,  hidden  by  a  rock, 
when  I  saw  a  halcyon  flying  gently  towards  the  shore.  It  is  a  sacred  bird,  which 
one  must  be  careful  not  to  offend ;  so  I  let  it  alight,  and  never  stirred  for  fear  I 
should  scare  it  away.  At  the  same  time,  from  a  cleft  in  the  mountain,  I  saw  a 
beautiful  green  adder  appear,  and  glide  along  the  sands  toward  the  bird.  When 
they  were  near  to  one  another,  neither  seemed  surprised  at  the  meeting,  and  the 
adder  twined  itself  round  the  neck  of  the  halcyon  as  if  it  was  embracing  it 
tenderly,  and  thus  they  remained  intertwined  some  minutes,  when  they  abruptly 
separated,  the  adder  to  re-enter  the  cliff,  and  the  bird  to  plunge  in  the  wave, 
which  carried  it  away. 

"Much  astonished  at  what  I  had  seen,  I  returned  the  next  day  at  the  s-«ne 
hour,  and  at  the  same  hour  the  halcyon  alighted  on  the  sands,  and  the  adder 
issued  from  its  retreat.  There  was  no  doubt  that  they  were  fairies,  and  probably 
fairies  under  enchantment  to  whom  I  might  render  a  service. 

"But  how?  To  show  myself  would  be  to  displease  them,  and  probably  en- 
danger my  life.  It  would  be  better  to  wait  a  favorable  opportunity,  which  luck 
might  bring  about  at  any  time.  Meanwhile  for  a  month  I  kept  myself  out  of 
sight,  being  present  every  morning  at  the  same  spectacle  ;  when,  one  day,  I  saw 
a  great  black  cat,  which  was  the  first  to  appear  on  the  scene,  and  hide  itself 
behind  a  rock  close  to  me.  A  black  cat  could  be  nothing  else  than  a  magician 
according  to  what  I  had  heard  in  my  youth,  so  I  resolved  to  watch  it.  And 


33g  The  Castle  of  Life. 

indeed  scarcely  had  the  halcyon  and  the  adder  embraced  each  other,  than  the 
cat  stood  erect,  with  his  tail  bristling,  and  sprang  on  the  innocent  pair.  It  was 
now  my  turn  to  throw  myself  on  the  assassin,  who  had  already  hold  of  his 
victim  in  his  murderous  claws.  I  seized  him  in  spite  of  his  struggles,  and  though 
my  hands  were  covered  with  blood,  I  then  and  there  pitilessly,  knowing  with 
whom  I  had  to  deal,  took  the  knife  that  I  used  for  opening  oysters  and  cut  off 
the  monster's  head  and  paws  and  tail,  awaiting  with  all  confidence  the  result  of 
my  act  of  devotion. 

"  I  had  not  long  to  wait.  As  soon  as  I  had  thrown  the  creature's  body  into 
the  sea,  I  saw  before  me  two  beautiful  ladies,  one  with  a  crown  of  white  feathers, 
and  the  other  with  a  scarf  make  of  snake's  skin  ;  they  were,  as  I  have  told  you, 
the  fairy  of  the  water  and  the  fairy  of  the  woods.  Enchanted  by  a  wicked  Jinn, 
who  had  found  out  their  secret,  they  were  obliged  to  remain  bird  and  snake  until 
some  generous  hand  should  restore  them  to  liberty,  and  it  was  to  me  they  owed 
freedom  and  power. 

"'Ask  what  thou  wilt,'  they  said, '  and  thy  wishes  shall  be  fulfilled.' 
"  I  thought  how  that  I  was  old,  and  that  I  had  had  too  hard  a  life  to  wish  for 
it  over  again  ;  while  as  for  thee,  my  child,  the  day  would  come  wrhen  nothing 
would  be  too  good  for  thee  to  desire,  when  thou  wouldst  wish  to  be  rich, 
noble,  a  general,  a  marquis,  and  perhaps  a  prince.  '  When  that  day  comes/  I 
thought  to  myself,  '  I  shall  be  able  to  give  him  every  thing  ;  a  single  moment  of 
such  happiness  would  repay  me  for  eighty  years  of  trouble  and  misery.'  I  then 
thanked  the  fairies,  and  begged  them  to  keep  their  goodwill  for  me  until  the 
time  came  when  I  should  need  it.  The  fairy  of  the  water  then  took  a  small 
feather  from  her  crown,  and  the  fairy  of  the  woods  a  scale  from  the  snake's 
skin. 

"  '  Good  woman,'  they  said, «  when  thou  hast  need  of  us,  put  this  feather  and 
this  scale  into  a  vessel  of  pure  water,  and,  at  the  same  time,  call  upon  us  as  thou 
formest  thy  wish.  Even  if  we  should  be  at  the  ends  of  the  earth,  thou  shalt  see 
us  before  thee  in  an  instant,  ready  to  pay  our  debt  of  to-day.'  I  bent  my  head 
in  token  of  gratitude,  and  when  I  raised  it  every  thing  had  disappeared  ;  there 
were  no  longer  any  wounds  or  blood  upon  my  hands,  and  I  should  have  thought 
my  late  adventure  was  all  a  dream  if  I  had  not  had  in  my  hand  the  piece  of 
snake's  skin  and  the  halcyon's  feather." 

"  And  these  treasures,"  said  Grazioso,  "  where  are  they,  grandmother?  " 
"  My  child,"  replied  the  old  woman,  "  I  have  hidden  them  carefully,  as  I  did 
not  wish  to  show  them  to  thee  until  the  day  when  thou  shouldst  be  a  man  and 


Laboulayes  Fairy    Tales. 


339 


ready  to  use  them ;  but  since  death  is  about  to  part  us,  the  moment  has  come  to 
give  thee  these  precious  talismans.  Thou  wilt  find,  at  the  bottom  of  the  bin,  a 
small  wooden  box  hidden  under  some  rags ;  in  this  box  is  a  small  cardboard  one 
wrapped  up  in  tow.  Open  this  box  and  thou  wilt  find  the  scale  and  feather 
carefully  wrapped  in  cotton  wool.  Be  careful  not  to  hurt  them,  and  carry  them 
tenderly  and  I  will  tell  thee  what  next  thou  must  do." 

Grazioso  carried  the 
box  to  the  poor 
woman,  who  could 
no  longer  leave  her 
pallet,  and  she  took 
the  two  things  in  her 
hand. 

"  Now,"  said  she  to 
her  grandson,  handing 
them  back  to  him, 
"place  a  dish  full  of 
water  in  the  middle 
of  the  room,  and  lay 
the  scale  and  the 
feather  in  the  water 
and  then'  wish :  ask 
for  fortune,  greatness, 
wit,  power — any  thing 
thou  desirest ;  only, 
as  I  feel  I  am  dying, 
embrace  me,  my  child, 
before  thou  formest 
the  wish  that  is  to 
part  us  forever,  and 
receive  my  blessing 
for  the  last  time.  It 
will  be  yet  another 
talisman  to  bring  thee 
happiness." 

But,  to  the  old  wo- 
man's surprise,  Gra- 


340  The  Castle  of  Life. 

zioso  did  not  approach,  either  to  embrace  her  or  to  ask  her  blessing.  He  quickly 
placed  the  dishful  of  water  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  threw  the  feather  and  the 
scale  into  it,  and  cried  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  "  I  wish  grandmother  to 
live  forever  !  Appear,  fairy  of  the  water!  I  wish  grandmother  to  live  forever! 
Appear,  fairy  of  the  woods !  " 

Thereupon  the  water  bubbled  and  bubbled,  and  the  dish  became  a  great  basin 
that  was  almost  too  big  for  the  cottage  to  hold ;  and  from  the  depths  of  the 
basin  Grazioso  saw  two  beautiful  young  women  rise,  whom  he  recognized  at  once 
as  fairies  by  their  wands.  One  had  a  wreath  of  leaves  and  ear-rings  of  diamonds, 
which  were  like  acorns  in  their  cup ;  she  was  dressed  in  an  olive  green  gown,  and 
a  scarf  of  snake's  skin  was  fastened  over  her  right  shoulder.  This  was  the  fairy 
of  the  woods.  As  to  the  fairy  of  the  waters,  she  wore  a  wreath  of  reeds  and  a 
white  gown  edged  with  grebe,  and  a  blue  scarf  which,  from  time  to  time,  blew 
over  her  head  and  filled  out  like  the  sail  of  a  boat.  Great  ladies  as  they  were, 
they  both  looked  smilingly  on  Grazioso,  who  had  taken  refuge  at  his  grand- 
mother's side  and  stood  trembling  with  fear  and  admiration. 

"  Here  we  are,  my  child,"  said  the  fairy  of  the  water,  who  was  spokeswoman,, 
being  the  elder.  "  We  have  heard  what  you  said  :  your  wish  does  you  credit, 
but  if  we  can  help  you  in  the  project  you  desire,  you  alone  can  execute  it.  We 
can  easily  prolong  your  grandmother's  life  for  some  time,  but  to  make  her  live  for- 
ever you  must  go  to  the  Castle  of  Life,  four  long  days'  journey  from  here 
towards  Sicily.  There  the  fountain  of  immortality  is  to  be  found.  If  you  can 
accomplish  each  of  these  four  days'  journeys  without  turning  out  of  your  roadr 
and  if,  on  arriving  at  the  castle,  you  can  answer  the  three  questions  that  an  invisi- 
ble voice  will  ask  you,  you  will  receive  there  all  that  you  desire.  But,  my  child, 
reflect  well  before  you  set  out ;  there  are  many  dangers  on  the  way.  If  ever  you 
fail  to  reach  the  end  of  your  day's  journey,  not  only  will  you  not  obtain  what 
you  desire,  but  you  will  never  leave  that  country,  from  which  no  traveler 
returns." 

"  Madam,"  replied  Grazioso,  "  I  will  start." 

"  But,"  said  the  fairy  of  the  woods,  "  you  are  very  young,'  my  boy,  and  you  do 
not  even  know  the  way." 

"  It  does  not  matter,"  replied  Grazioso,  «  you  will  not  forsake  me,  noble  ladies ; 
and  to  save  my  grandmother  I  would  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth." 

"Wait,"  said  the  fairy  of  the  woods,  and,  breaking  off  the  lead  from  a  broken 

Ldow-pane,  she  placed  it  in  the  hollow  of  her  hand.     Whereupon  the  lead 

began  to  melt  and  to  bubble  without  the  fairy  appearing  in  the  slightest  degree 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  341 

inconvenienced  by  the  heat.  She  then  threw  the  metal  on  the  hearth,  where  it 
congealed  into  a  thousand  different  forms. 

"  What  do  you  see  in  all  that  ?  "  asked  the  fairy  of  Grazioso. 

"  Madam,"  he  replied,  after  looking  at  it  attentively,  "  I  think  I  see  a  spaniel 
with  a  long  tail  and  long  ears." 

"  Call  it,"  said  the  fairy. 

Immediately  a  bark  was  heard,  and  from  the  middle  of  the  metal  a  black  and 
tan  dog  issued,  which  began  at  once  to  jump  and  gambol  round  Grazioso. 

"  This  will  be  your  companion,"  said  the  fairy.  "  You  must  call  him  Fidelio, 
and  he  will  show  you  the  way ;  but  I  warn  you  that  it  is  for  you  to  lead  him, 
and  not  for  him  to  lead  you.  If  you  make  him  obey  you  you  will  find  him  of 
great  service ;  but  if  you  obey  him  he  will  bring  you  into  trouble." 

"And  I,"  said  the  fairy  of  the  waters,  "shall  I  give  you  nothing,  my  poor 
Grazioso?" 

And,  gazing  round  her,  the  lady  caught  sight  of  a  piece  of  paper,  which  she 
pushed  on  to  the  hearth  with  her  little  foot.  The  paper  caught  fire,  and  when 
the  flame  had  burned  out,  thousands  of  little  sparks  were  to  be  seen  following 
each  other  like  nuns  on  Christmas  Eve  all  on  their  way  to  chapel  with  wax 
tapers  in  their  hands.  The  fairy  watched  all  these  sparks  carefully,  and  when 
the  last  was  nearly  out,  she  blew  on  the  paper.  Suddenly  the  little  cry  of  a 
bird  was  heard,  and  a  swallow  flew  out  very  much  frightened  and  dashed  itself 
against  the  corner  of  the  room,  and  finally  finished  by  alighting  on  Grazioso's 
shoulder. 

"  This  shall  be  also  your  companion,"  said  the  fairy  of  the  water.  "You  must 
call  it  Pensive,  and  it  will  show  you  the  way  ;  but  I  warn  you  that  you  must  lead 
it,  and  it  must  not  lead  you.  If  you  make  it  obey  you  it  will  serve  you  well; 
but  if  you  obey  it,  it  will  be  your  ruin.  Move  that  black  cinder,"  added  the 
kind  fairy  of  the  water,  "  perhaps  you  will  find  something  there." 

Grazioso  obeyed,  and  from  under  the  ashes  of  the  paper  he  took  a  bottle  of 
rock  crystal  which  shone  like  a  diamond. 

"  In  that,"  said  the  fairy,  "  you  must  bring  away  the  water  of  immortality.  It 
would  break  any  vessel  made  by  mortal  hands." 

Beside  the  bottle  Grazioso  found  a  dagger  with  a  three-edged  blade,  a  very 
different  thing  to  the  stiletto  which  had  belonged  to  his  fisherman  father,  and 
which  he  had  been  forbidden  to  touch.  With  such  a  weapon  he  could  brave  the 
fiercest  foe. 

"  Sister,  you  shall  not  outdo  me  in  generosity,"   said  the  other  fairy,  and 


342  The  Castle  of  Life. 

taking  a  straw  from  the  only  chair  there  was  in  the  house,  she  blew  upon  it. 
The  straw  swelled  at  once,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it  formed  a 
beautiful  gun,  all  inlaid  with  gold  and  mother-of-pearl.  A  second  straw  became 
a  cartouch-box,  which  Grazioso  at  once  put  on,  and  which  became  him  wonder- 
fully ;  indeed  he  looked  like  a  prince  equipped  for  hunting.  So  handsome  was 
he  that  his  grandmother  cried  with  joy  and  emotion  at  sight  of  him. 

The  two  fairies  then  disappeared,  and  Grazioso  embraced  the  good  old  woman, 
telling  her  to  be  sure  and  wait  for  him,  and  then  knelt  down  to  receive  her  bless- 
ing. His  grandmother  gave  him  some  parting  good  advice,  and  told  him  to  be 
patient,  just,  and  charitable,  and,  above  all,  never  to  leave  the  right  road.  "  Not 
for  my  sake,"  added  the  old  woman,  "  who  am  quite  ready  to  die,  and  only 
sorry  for  the  wish  thou  hast  formed,  but  for  thee,  my  child,  so  that  thou  should'st 
come  back.  I  do  not  wish  to  die  without  thee  to  close  my  eyes." 

It  was  late,  and  Grazioso  laid  himself  down  on  the  ground,  too  excited,  as  he 
thought,  to  sleep.  But  sleep  soon  overtook  him.  He  slept  all  night,  while  his 
grandmother  watched  her  dear  boy's  face,  lighted  up  by  the  flickering  light  of 
the  lamp,  and  was  never  weary  of  admiring  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 

T  7ERY  early  the  next  morning,  at  sunrise,  the  swallow  began  to  twitter,  and 
V  Fidelio  to  pull  at  Grazioso's  blanket.  "  Let  us  start,  master,  let  us  start," 
said  his  two  companions  in  their  language,  which  Grazioso  could  understand, 
thanks  to  the  fairies.  "  The  sea  is  already  sparkling  on  the  shore,  the  birds  sing, 
the  flies  buzz,  the  flowers  open  to  the  sun.  Let  us  start,  it  is  quite  time." 

Grazioso  embraced  his  grandmother  for  the  test  time,  and  set  off  on  the  road 
which  leads  to  Pgestum.  Pensive  flew  from  right  to  left,  chasing  the  gnats,  and 
Fidelio  gamboled  about  his  young  master,  or  ran  on  in  front  of  him.  They 
were  scarcely  two  leagues  from  the  town  when  Grazioso  saw  Fidelio  talking  to 
some  ants.  These  were  walking  in  regular  companies,  dragging  all  their  pro- 
visions along  with  them. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  inquired  Grazioso  of  them,  and  they  answered— 

"To  the  Castle  of  Life." 

A  little  further  on  Pensive  met  some  grasshoppers,  who  were  also  on  their 

travels  with  the  bees  and  butterflies.     All  were  on  their  way  to  the  Castle  of 

mk  of  the  fountain  of  immortality.     They  walked  in  company  like 


Laboulayes  Fairy    Tales. 


343 


people  going  the  same  road.  Pensive  brought  a  young 
butterfly  to  Grazioso,  which  chattered  to  him  very 
pleasantly.  Youth  makes  friends  quickly,  and  at  the 
end  of  an  hour  the  two  companies  were  inseparable. 

To  travel  straight  on  is  not  the  way  of  butterflies, 
and  Grazioso's  little  friend  was  constantly  losing  itself 
among  the  flowers.  Grazioso,  who  had  never  known 
freedom  before,  nor  seen  so  many  flowers  nor  such 
sunshine,  followed  all  the  zigzags  of  the  butterfly, 
and  no  more  troubled  himself  about  the  day  than  if  it  were  to  last  forever.  But 
at  the  end  of  some  leagues  his  new  friend  felt  tired. 

"  Do  not  let  us  go  any  further,"  it  said  to  Grazioso.  "Look  how  lovely  it  is 
here,  and  how  sweet  the  flowers  are,  and  how  these  fields  scent  the  air !  Let  us 
stay  here.  This  is  enjoying  life  !  " 

''Let  us  go  on,"  said  Fidelio,  "we  have  a  long  journey  before  us  and  are  only 
at  the  beginning." 

"  Let  us  go  on,"  said  Pensive,  "  the  sky  is  clear  and  the  horizon  wide  ;  let  us 
go  forward." 

Grazioso  reflected,  and  then  spoke  wisely  to  the  butterfly,  which  was  always 
fluttering  here  and  there,  but  to  no  purpose. 

"  What  does  it  matter?  "  said  the  insect.  "  Yesterday  I  was  a  caterpillar,  this 
evening  I  shall  be  nothing,  and  I  wish  to  enjoy  myself  to-day,"  and  he  alighted 
on  a  full-blown  Paestum  rose. 

The  scent  was  so  strong  that  the  poor  butterfly  was  suffocated.  Grazioso 
sought  in  vain  to  bring  it  back  to  life,  and  after  weeping  over  it,  he  put  a  pin 
through  it  and  placed  it  in  his  hat  like  a  cockade. 

Toward  noon  it  was 
the  grasshoppers'  turn 
to  stop. 

"  Let  us  sing,"  they 
said.  "  We  shall  soon 
be  overpowered  by  the 
heat  if  we  attempt  to 
struggle  against  the 
noontide  sun.  It  is  so 
pleasant  to  enjoy  a  com- 
fortable rest !  Come,  Gra- 
zioso, we  will  amuse  you  and  you  shall  sing  with  us."  j 


344  The  Castie  of  Life 

"Listen  to  them,"  said  Pensive,  «  they  sing  so  well." 

But  Fidelio  would  not  stop  ;  a  youthful  ardor  burned  in  his  veins,  and  he  barked 
so  much  that  Grazioso  forsook  the  grasshoppers  to  run  after  his  importunate  dog. 

When  evening  came  Grazioso  met  a  bee,  laden  with  spoil. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  he  said. 

«  I  am  going  home,"  answered  the  bee,  "  and  have-  no  wish  to  leave  my  hive. 

«  Whatl  "  replied  Grazioso,  "industrious  as  you  are,  are  you  going  to  do  as 
the  grasshoppers,  and  abandon  your  search  after  immortality?  " 

"Your  castle  is  too  far  distant,"  replied  the  bee.  "  I  have  not  your  ambition. 
My  daily  work  is  sufficient  for  me.  I  understand  nothing  about  your  travels. 
As  for  me,  work  is  my  life." 

Grazioso  was  a  little  grieved  to  lose  so  many  traveling  companions  the  first 
day,  but  on  thinking  how  easily  he  had  reached  the  first-halting  place,  his  heart 
was  glad.  He  caressed  Fidelio,  caught  some  flies,  which  Pensive  took  from  his 
hand,  and,  lying  down  to  sleep  full  of  hope,  he  dreamed  of  his  grandmother  and 
the  two  fairies. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

'THHE  next  day, "at  sunrise,  Pensive  awoke  her  young  master. 

J.  "  Let  us  start,"  she  said.  "  The  sea  already  sparkles  on  the  shore,  the 
birds  are  singing,  the  flies  buzzing,  the  flowers  opening  to  the  sun.  Let  us  start, 
it  is  high  time." 

"One  moment,"  replied  Fidelio.  "The  journey  is  not  a  long  one;  before 
noon  we  shall  see  the  temples  of  Paestum,  where  we  are  to  halt  to-night." 

1  The  ants  are  already  on  the  way,"  returned  Pensive.  "  The  road  is  more 
difficult  than  yesterday,  and  the  weather  is  very  sultry.  We  had  better  start." 

Grazioso  had  seen  his  grandmother  in  a  dream  smiling  on  him,  so  he  set  off 
on  his  journey  with  greater  ardor  even  than  the  day  before.  It  was  a  splendid 
day ;  to  the  right  the  blue  waves  gently  broke  on  the  sand,  while  on  the  left,  in 
the  distance,  were  rose-tinted  mountains.  The  ground  was  covered  with  flowers, 
and  the  road  bordered  with  aloes,  orange-trees,  and  acanthus,  and  over  all  a 
cloudless  sky. 

Grazioso,  full  of  pleasure  and  hope,  felt  himself  already  at  the  end  of  his 
travels.  Fidelio  bounded  through  the  fields,  startling  the  frightened  partridges, 
\vhile  Pensive  lost  herself  in  the  ether,  reveling  in  the  sunlight.  Suddenly. 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  ^4t- 

among  the  reeds,  Grazioso  caught  sight  of  a  beautiful  young  doe,  which  was 
looking  at  him  with  great  soft  eyes  as  if  she  were  calling  to  him.  As  the  boy 
approached  the  doe  sprang  away,  but  not  to  any  distance.  Three  times  she  did 
the  same  thing,  as  if  to  allure  Grazioso  to  the  chase. 

"  Let  us  follow  her,"  said  Fidelio.  "  I  will  cut  off  her  escape,  and  we  will 
soon  catch  her." 

"  Where  is  Pensive  ?  "  said  the  boy. 

"  What  does  it  matter,  master  ?  "  returned  Fidelio.  "  It  is  done  in  a  minute. 
Trust  to  me,  I  was  born  for  hunting,  and  the  doe  shall  be  ours." 

Grazioso  did  not  wait  to  be  asked  twice.  While  Fidelio  made  a  dttour,  he 
went  after  the  doe,  who  would  stand  waiting  between  the  trees  as  if  to  let  her- 
self be  taken,  and  then  bound  away  as  soon  as  the  sportsman  attempted  to  lay 
hands  on  her. 

"  Courage,  master  ! "  exclaimed  Fidelio,  dislodging  it ;  but  with  a  toss  of  her 
head  the  doe  threw  the  dog  into  the  air,  and  fled  away  like  the  wind. 

Grazioso  dashed  forward  in  pursuit.  Fidelio,  with  eyes  aflame  and  hanging 
tongue,  ran  and  barked  like  a  mad  dog  ;  they  leaped  over  hedges  and  ditches  and 
through  brushwood — nothing  stopped  them.  The  doe,  tired  out,  was  losing 
ground,  so  Grazioso  redoubled  his  exertions  ;  already  his  hand  was  stretched 
out  to  seize  his  prey,  when  all  at  once  the  ground  gave  way  beneath  his  feet, 
and  he  rolled  along  with  his  unfortunate  companion  into  a  pitfall  that  had  been 
covered  over  with  branches. 

He  had  not  recovered  from  his  fall  when  the  doe,  approaching  the  edge  of 
the  hole,  cried — 

"You  are  betrayed.  I  am  the  wife  of  the  wolf-king,  who  will  eat  you 
both  up." 

So  saying  she  disappeared. 

"  Master,"  said  Fidelio,  "  the  fairy  was  right  in  warning  you  not  to  follow  me ; 
we  have  been  very  foolish,  and  it  is  I  who  have  been  your  ruin." 

"At  least,"  said  Grazioso,  "  we  will  defend  our  lives." 

And  taking  his  rifle  he  put  in  it  a  double  charge  so  as  to  be  ready  for  the 
wolf-king.  Then,  calmer,  he  inspected  the  deep  ditch  into  which  he  had  fallen ; 
it  was  too  high  for  him  to  attempt  to  get  out  of  it,  and  in  this  hole  he  must  await 
his  death.  Fidelio  understood  his  master's  thoughts. 

'Sir,"  said  he,  "if  you  would  take  me  up  in  your  arms  and  throw  me  up  with 
all  your  strength,  perhaps  I  might  get  to  the  edge,  and  once  out  of  this  I  could 
help  you." 


346 


The  Castle  of  Life. 


Grazioso  had  not  much  hope.  Three  times  he  tried  to  push  up  Fidelio,  and 
three  times  the  poor  animal  fell  back.  At  last  the  fourth  time  the  dog  managed  to 
catch  hold  of  some  roots,  and  with  the  help  of  his  teeth  and  paws  succeeded  in 
getting  out  of  the  pit.  He  immediately  pushed  down  into  the  ditch  some 
branches  that  he  found  lying  by  the  edge. 

"  Master,"  said  he,  "  stick  these  branches  into  the  ground  and  make  a  ladder 
of  them.  Make  haste,  make  haste,"  he  added,  "  I  hear  the  howling  of  the  wolf- 
king!  " 

Grazioso  was  very  clever  and  agile.  Indignation  doubled  his  strength,  and  in 
less  than  a  minute  he  was  out.  He  then  settled  his  dagger  in  his  belt,  changed 
the  cap  in  his  gun,  and  placing  himself  behind  a  tree,  awaited  the  enemy  with  a 
firm  front. 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  horrible  cry,  a  dreadful  animal  with  great  fangs  like 
boars'  tusks  was  coming  with  huge  bounds  toward  him.  With  trembling  hands 
Grazioso  took  aim  and  fired.  The  shot  struck  home,  and  the  animal  fell  back 
howling,  but  he  sprang  up  again  directly. 

"Load  your  gun  again  ;, 
make  haste,  master!" 
cried  Fidelio,  who  threw 
himself  courageously  on 
the  monster,  and  caught 
him  by  the  neck  with  his 
teeth. 

The  wolf  had  only  to 
shake  his  head  to  throw 
the  poor  dog  to  the 
ground.  He  could  have 
swallowed  him  at  one 
mouthful  if  Fidelio  had 
not  slipped  out  of  his 
jaw,  leaving  an  ear  be- 
hind him.  It  was  now  Grazioso's  turn  to  save  his  companion.  He  advanced 
boldly  and  fired  his  second  shot,  taking  his  aim  well.  The  wolf  fell,  but,  raising 
himself  for  one  last  effort,  he  threw  himself  on  the  sportsman,  who  fell  beneath 
him.  On  receiving  this  tremendous  blow  Grazioso  gave  himself  up  for  lost,  but 
without  losing  his  presence  of  mind,  and  calling  the  good  fairies  to  his  aid,  he 
drew  his  dagger  and  plunged  it  into  the  creature's  heart,  who,  ready  to  devour 
his  enemy,  suddenly  stretched  out  his  limbs  and  died. 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales.  347 

Covered  with  blood  and  foam,  and  trembling,  Grazioso  seated  himself  on  a 
tree  which  had  been  blown  down.  Fidelio  dragged  himself  to  his  side  without 
venturing  to  caress  him,  for  he  felt  how  much  he  had  been  to  blame. 

"  Master,"  he  said,  "  what  is  to  become  of  us  ?  Night  is  coming  on,  and  we 
are  far  from  Paestum." 

"  We  must  go  on,"  exclaimed  the  boy  ;  and  rose  up,  but  he  was  so  weak  that 
he  was  obliged  to  re-seat  himself. 

A  burning  thirst  consumed  him ;  and  every  thing  swam  round  him.  Then 
calling  his  grandmother  to  mind  he  began  to  weep.  To  have  so  soon  forgotten 
all  his  fine  promises,  and  to  die  in  that  country  whence  nobody  returns,  and  all 
for  the  beautiful  eyes  of  a  doe  !  What  remorse  was  his  !  How  sadly  this  day 
had  ended  which  had  begun  so  brightly  ! 

Soon  fearful  howlings  were  heard.  It  was  the  wolf-king's  brothers  who  were 
hastening  to  his  assistance.  Grazioso  embraced  Fidelio,  his  only  friend,  forgave 
him  the  imprudence  which  they  were  both  about  to  pay  for  with  their  lives, 
loaded  his  gun,  prayed  to  the  good  fairies  to  take  care  of  his  grandmother,  and 
prepared  to  die. 

"  Grazioso !  Grazioso  !  where  are  you  ?  "  cried  a  little  voice,  which  could  be 
none  other  than  Pensive's. 

And  the  swallow  came  wheeling  round  and  alighted  on  her  master's  head. 

"  Courage,"  she  said  ;  "  the  wolves  are  still  a  long  way  off.  There  is  a  spring 
close  by  where  you  can  quench  your  thirst  and  bathe  your  wounds;  and  I  have 
seen  a  path  almost  hidden  by  the  grass  that  will  lead  us  to  Paestum." ' 

Grazioso  and  Fidelio  dragged  themselves  to  the  brook,  trembling  with  hope 
and  fear  ;  they  then  took  the  hidden  path,  somewhat  cheered  by  Pensive's  gentle 
twittering.  The  sun  had  sunk,  and  they  walked  on  in  the  darkness  for  some  hours, 
and  when  the  moon  rose  they  were  out  of  danger.  A  painful  and  dangerous 
road  remained  for  them  to  traverse,  and  the  vigor  and  enthusiasm  of  the  morn- 
ing was  theirs  no  longer ;  there  were  marshes  to  traverse,  ditches  to  jump,  and 
thickets  where  they  tore  their  faces  and  hands ;  but  in  thinking  that  he  might 
yet  repair  his  fault  and  save  his  grandmother  Grazioso's  heart  was  so  light  that 
with  every  step  his  strength  grew  with  his  hope.  At  last,  after  numberless 
fatigues  they  arrived  at  Paestum  just  as  the  stars  marked  midnight. 

Grazioso  threw  himself  on  a  flagstone  by  the  temple  of  Neptune,  and  after 
having  thanked  Pensive  he  fell  asleep  with  Fidelio  at  his  feet,  who  though 
wounded  and  bleeding,  was  silent. 


The  Castle  of  Life. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HIS  sleep  did  not  last  long  ;  before  daybreak  he  was  stirring.  As  he  came 
down  the  temple  steps  he  saw  some  ants  which  had  raised  a  heap  of  sand, 
and  were  burying  the  grain  of  the  recent  harvest.  The  entire  commonwealth 
was  in  motion.  Every  ant  was  coming  and  going,  and  talking  to  its  neighbor, 
receiving  or  giving  orders,  or  dragging  straws,  bringing  little  bits  of  wood, 
carrying  away  dead  flies,  or  collecting  provisions.  Every  preparation  was  being 
made  for  the  winter. 

"Well,"  said  Grazioso  to  the  ants,  "are  you  not  going  to  the  Castle  of  Life? 
Do  you  give  up  immortality  ?  " 

"  We  have  worked  hard,"  replied  one  of  the  toilers,  "  and  now  harvest  is  at 
hand.  The  way  is  long,  and  the  future  uncertain,  and  we  are  rich.  It  is  the  act 
of  fools  to  count  on  the  morrow,  the  wise  make  use  of  the  present  hour.  When 
one  has  honestly  amassed  riches,  the  true  philosophy  is  to  enjoy  them." 

Fidelio  thought  the  ant  had  some  reason  on  its  side,  but  as  he  no  longer 
ventured  to  give  advice,  he  contented  himself  with  shaking  his  head  as  they 
went  away.  Pensive,  on  the  contrary,  said  that  the  ant  was  but  an  egotist,  and 
that  if  there  was  nothing  better  to  be  done  than  to  enjoy  life,  the  butterfly  was 
wiser  than  the  ant.  At  the  same  time,  gayer  than  ever,  Pensive  flew  off  at  a 
single  flight  to  reconnoiter. 

Grazioso  walked  on  in  silence.  Ashamed  of  the  folly  of  yesterday,  though  he 
regretted  the  doe  a  little,  he  vowed  during  this  third  day  nothing  should  turn 
him  from  his  road. 

Fidelio  with  his  torn  ear  followed  his  young  master,  limping,  and  apparently 
as  thoughtful.  Toward  noon  they  came  upon  a  pleasant  place  for  making  a 
short  halt.  The  weather  was  less  sultry  than  the  preceding  day,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  the  landscape  and  the  season  had  altered.  The  road  lay  through  meadows 
off  which  the  second  crop  of  hay  had  been  lately  taken,  or  through  beautiful 
vineyards  where  the  grapes  hung  in  great,  ripe  clusters  ;  fig-trees  laden  with 
fruit,  round  which  hummed  thousands  of  insects,  bordered  the  road  ;  on  the 
horizon  were  golden  mists,  and  the  air  was  soft  and  warm  and  every  thing  invited 
to  repose. 

In  one  of  the  most  beautiful  meadows,  near  a  stream  which  diffused  a  delicious 


Laboulayes  Fairy  Tales.  349 

freshness,  Grazioso  descried  a  herd  of  buffaloes,  who  were  peacefully  ruminating 
under  the  shade  of  some  ash  and  plane  trees.  They  were  all  lying  down,  and 
formed  a  ring  round  an  old  bull  who  looked  like  their  leader  and  their  king. 
Grazioso  approached  courteously,  and  was  received  with  politeness.  With  an 
inclination  of  the  head  he  was  invited  to  sit  down,  and  great  bowls  full  of  cheese 
and  milk  were  placed  before  him.  Our  traveler  much  admired  the  calmness  and 
gravity  of  these  peaceful  and  powerful  creatures,  who  looked  like  so  many  Roman 
senators  seated  in  their  curule  chairs.  The  golden  nose-ring  they  wore  added  to 
the  dignity  of  their  appearance.  Grazioso,  who  was  feeling  calmer  and  more 
sedate  than  the  preceding  day,  thought,  in  spite  of  himself,  that  it  would  be  good 
to  live  in  the  midst  of  such  peace  and  plenty.  If  happiness  was  to  be  found 
any  where,  no  doubt  it  was  here  that  it  ought  to  be  sought  for.  Fidelio  shared 
his  master's  opinion.  It  was  the  time  when  quails  were  on  the  wing  to  Africa, 
and  the  ground  was  covered  with  exhausted  birds  who  were  recruiting  their 
strength  before  crossing  the  sea.  Fidelio  had  only  to  stoop  to  have  splendid 
sport ;  feasted  with  game,  he  lay  down  at  Grazioso's  feet  and  began  to  snore. 

When  the  buffaloes  had  finished  ruminating,  Grazioso,  who  until  then  had 
feared  to  be  indiscreet,  entered  into  conversation  with  the  bull,  who  showed  a 
cultivated  mind  and  great  experience. 

"Are  you,"  he  inquired,    "  the  owners  of  this  rich  domain?  " 

"No,"  replied  the  old  buffalo,  "we  belong,  like  all  the  rest,  to  the  fairy 
Crapaudine,  Queen  of  the  Ruby  Towers,  the  richest  of  all  the  fairies." 

"  What  does  she  require  from  you  ?  "  replied  Grazioso. 

"  Nothing  more  than  to  wear  a  gold  nose-ring,  and  to  pay  her  a  milk  tax," 
answered  the  bull,  "  and  at  the  most  to  give  her  from  time  to  time  one  of  our  chil- 
dren with  whom  to  regale  her  guests.  At  this  price  we  enjoy  our  plenty  in 
absolute  security,  and  we  envy  no  one  on  earth,  for  there  is  not  a  creature  happier 
than  ourselves." 

"  Have  you  never  heard  of  the  Castle  of  Life  and  the  Fountain  of  Immor- 
tality?" asked  Grazioso  timidly,  who,  without  knowing  why,  blushed  after 
putting  this  question. 

"  In  our  fathers'  time,"  replied  the  bull,  "there  were  some  old  men  who  still 
held  to  those  myths,  but,  wiser  than  our  elders,  we  know  nowadays  that  there  is 
no  greater  happiness  than  to  sleep  and  ruminate." 

Grazioso  rose  sadly  to  continue  his  journey,  and  inquired  what  were  those 
square  red  towers  that  he  saw  in  the  distance. 

"Those  are  the  Ruby  Towers,"  replied  the  bull ;  "they  intercept  the  way,  for 


35o  The  Castle  of  Life. 

you  must  pass  by  Crapaudine's  Castle  to  continue  your  journey.  You  will  see 
the  fairy,  my  young  friend,  and  she  will  offer  you  hospitality  and  a  fortune.  Do 
like  your  predecessors,  believe  me,  they  have  all  accepted  our  mistress's  bene- 
factions, and  all  have  been  well  content  to  give  up  their  dreams  in  order  to  live 
happily." 

"  And  what  has  become  of  them  ?  "  asked  Grazioso. 

"  They  became  buffaloes  like  us,"  replied  the  bull,  quietly,  who,  not  having 
finished  his  siesta,  bent  his  head  and  fell  asleep. 

Grazioso  started  and  awoke  Fidelio,  who  got  up  growling.  He  then  called 
Pensive,  but  she  gave  no  answer,  for  she  was  chatting  with  a  spider  who,  between 
two  branches  of  an  ash  had  hung  a  great  web  which  sparkled  in  the  sunshine, 
and  was  full  of  little  flies. 

"  Why,"  said  the  spider  to  the  swallow,  "why  this  long  journey?  What  is  the 
good  of  changing  one's  climate  and  waiting  all  one's  life  on  the  sun  or  the 
weather,  or  one's  master  ?  Look  at  me,  I  am  quite  independent,  and  draw  on 
my  own  resources.  I  am  my  own  mistress,  and  I  enjoy  my  skill  and  genius;  I 
bring  the  world  to  my  feet,  and  nothing  disturbs  my  calculations  or  my  happi- 
ness which  I  owe  to  no  one  bi-t  myself." 

Thrice  Grazioso  called  Pensive,  who  never  heard  him,  she  was  so  taken  up 
with  her  new  friend.  Every  instant  some  giddy  little  fly  was  caught  in  the  web, 
and  every  time  the  spider  like  an  attentive  host  offered  the  fresh  spoil  to  its 
astonished  companion,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  puff  of  wind ;  it  was  so  light 
that  the  swallow's  feathers  were  not  even  ruffled.  Pensive  looked  for  the  spider ; 
its  web  was  scattered  to  the  winds,  and  the  poor  creature  was  hanging  by  one 
leg  to  its  last  thread,  when  a  bird  carried  it  off  as  it  flew  past. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THEY  resumed  their  journey  in  silence,  and  soon  the  party  reached  Crapau- 
dine's palace.  Gvazioso  was  admitted,  introduced  with  great  ceremony 
by  two  fine  greyhounds  taparisoned  in  scarlet,  and  with  great  collars  sparkling 
with  rubies  on  their  necks.  After  traversing  a  great  number  of  apartments  full 
)f  pictures  and  statues,  and  gold  and  silver  stuffs,  and  coffers  overflowing  with 
money  and  jewels,  GrazJoso  and  his  companions  entered  a  circular  hall,  which 
was  Crapaudine's  apartment.  The  walls  were  of  lapis  lazuli,  and  the  vaulted 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


351 


I 


ceiling  of  blue  enamel  was  supported  by  twelve  fluted  pillars  of  massive  gold, 
the  capitals  of  which  were  acanthus  leaves  in  white  enamel,  edged  with  gold. 
On  a  large  velvet  arm-chair  sat  a  toad  as  big  as  a  rabbit ;  this  was  the  presiding 
genius  of  the  place.  Clad  in  a  great  scarlet  cloak  with  a  spangled  border,  the 
amiable  Crapaudine  had  on  her  head  a  diadem  of  rubies,  whose  brilliancy  gave  a 
little  glow  to  her  fat  cheeks  mottled  with  green  and  yellow.  As  soon  as  she 
caught  sight  of  Gra- 
zioso  she  extended  to 
him  four  be-ringed 
fingers,  and  the  poor 
fellow  was  obliged,  V 
for  civility's  sake,  to 
lift  them  to  his  lips  as 
he  bent  over  them. 

"  Friend,"  said  the 
fairy  in  a  hoarse 
voice  that  she  in  vain 
strove  to  soften, 
"  I  was  expecting 
you,  and  I  do  not 
wish  to  be  less  gener- 
ous to  you  than  my 
sisters  have  been. 
On  your  way  here 
you  have  seen  a  small 
portion  of  my  riches. 
This  palace,  with  all 
its  pictures,  and  stat- 
ues, and  coffers  full 
of  gold,  these  im- 
mense domains,  and 
the  numberless  herds 
of  cattle,  all— all  are 
yours  if  you  choose; 
it  only  depends  on 
yourself  to  be  the 
richest  and  the  hap- 
piest of  men." 


352  The  Castle  of  Life. 

"  What  must  I  do.'"  asked  Grazioso,  very  much  moved. 

"  Less  than  nothing,"  replied  the  fairy;  "  hack  me  into  fifty  pieces,  and  eat  me 
on  the  spot.  It  is  not  such  a  very  terrible  thing  to  do,"  she  added  with  a  smile, 
and,  gazing  at  Grazioso  with  even  redder  eyes  than  usual,  Crapaudine  began  to 
slobber  pleasantly. 

"  Could  it  be  possible  at  least  to  disguise  your  flavor?"  said  Pensive,  who  very 
much  envied  the  fairy's  beautiful  gardens. 

"  No,"  said  Crapaudine,  "  I  must  be  eaten  quite  raw  ;  but  any  body  can  wander 
about  my  palace  and  see  and  touch  all  my  treasures,  and  say  to  themselves  that 
if  they  will  give  me  this  proof  of  devotion,  every  thing  shall  be  theirs." 

"  Master,"  sighed  Fidelio  in  a  beseeching  voice,  "  only  a  little  courage,  we 
should  be  so  comfortable  here  ! " 

Pensive  said  nothing,  but  her  silence  was  eloquent.  As  to  Grazioso,  who  re- 
membered the  buffaloes  and  their  golden  nose-rings,  he  mistrusted  the  fairy. 
Crapaudine  guessed  this. 

"  Do  not  believe,"  said  she,  "  that  I  wish  to  deceive  you,  dear  Grazioso.  In 
offering  you  all  I  possess,  I  ask  of  you  in  return  a  service  which  I  should  amply 
reward.  When  you  shall  have  accomplished  the  work  which  I  propose  to  you,  I 
should  become  a  young  maiden,  beautiful  as  Venus,  with  the  exception  of  my 
hands  and  feet,  which  will  still  remain  those  of  a  toad  ;  but  that  is  very  little 
matter  when  one  is  rich.  Already  a  dozen  princes  and  a  score  of  dukes  and 
marquises  have  entreated  me  to  marry  them  just  as  I  am  ;  but  were  I  to  become 
a  woman  it  is  to  you  I  would  give  the  preference,  and  together  we  will  enjoy  my 
immense  wealth.  Do  not  blush  for  your  poverty,  for  you  have  about  you  a 
treasure  worth  all  of  mine— the  flask  that  my  sister  gave  you,"  and  she  stretched 
out  her  clammy  hand  to  seize  the  talisman. 

"Never,"  cried  Grazioso,  stepping  backward.  "  Never,  I  desire  neither  wealth 
nor  ease.  I  will  leave  this  place  and  go  on  to  the  Castle  of  Life." 

Unhappy  wretch,  that  you  shall  never  do  !  "  exclaimed  the  fairy  in  a  rage. 

Immediately  the  temple  disappeared,  a'circle  of  flames  surrounded  Grazioso, 
and  an  invisible  clock  struck  midnight.  On  the  first  stroke  the  traveler  was 
startled,  at  the  second  without  a  moment's  hesitation  he  threw  himself  headlong 
into  the  midst  of  the  flames.  To  die  for  his  grandmother  seemed  to  Grazioso 
his  only  means  of  showing  his  repentance  and  his  love. 


The  Castle  of  Life.  353 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TO  Grazioso's  surprise  the  fire  dispersed  without  touching  him,  and  he  found 
himself  all  at  once  in  a  new  country,  with  his  two  companions  beside  him. 

It  was  no  longer  Italy,  but  rather  Russia,  or  somewhere  in  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  Grazioso  had  lost  his  way  on  a  mountain  covered  with  snow.  Around 
him  he  saw  nothing  but  great  trees  covered  with  hoar-frost,  and  half  hidden  by  a 
damp  and  penetrating  fog  which  froze  him  to  his  marrow.  His  feet  sank  into 
the  soaked  earth  at  every  step,  and  to  heighten  the  wretchedness  he  had  to 
descend  a  steep  incline,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  torrent  was  to  be  heard  dashing 
itself  against  the  rocks.  Grazioso  took  his  dagger  and  cut  the  branch  of  a  tree 
to  support  his  faltering  steps.  Fidelio,  his  tail  between  his  legs,  barked  feebly, 
while  Pensive  never  left  her  master's  shoulder;  her  ruffled  feathers  were 
covered  with  little  icicles.  The  poor  thing  was  half  dead,  but  she  encouraged  Gra- 
zioso, and  never  murmured. 

When,  after  infinite  trouble,  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  Grazioso 
found  a  river  with  huge  blocks  of  ice,  which  dashed  one  against  the  other,  and 
were  whirled  round  in  the  current.  This  river,  which  had  to  be  crossed,  had 
neither  bridge  nor  boat,  and  no  help  was  at  hand. 

"  Master,"  said  Fidelio,  "  I  can  go  no  further.  Shame  on  the  fairy  that  placed 
me  in  your  service  and  made  me  out  of  nothing  !  " 

Having  said  this,  he  lay  down  on  the  ground,  and  did  not  stir.  In  vain 
Grazioso  strove  to  cheer  him,  and  called  him  his  companion  and  his  friend.  All 
that  the  poor  dog  could  do  was  to  respond  for  the  last  time  to  his  master's 
caresses  by  licking  his  hand  and  wagging  his  tail ;  then  his  limbs  stiffened,  and 
he  was  dead. 

Grazioso  took  Fidelio  in  his  arms  to  carry  him  to  the  Castle  of  Life,  and  then 
stepped  boldly  on  to  one  of  the  blocks  of  ice,  followed  by  Pensive.  With  his 
stick  he  pushed  the  frail  raft  into  the  middle  of  the  stream,  which  bore  it  along 
with  frightful  rapidity. 

"  Master,"  said  Pensive,  "  do  you  hear  the  sound  of  the  sea  ?  We  are  going 
toward  an  abyss  which  will  swallow  us  up.  Give  me  one  last  caress  and  say 
farewell." 

"  No,"  said  Grazioso  ;  "  why  should  the  fairies  have  deceived  me  ?  Perhaps 
the  shore  is  near  here  ;  very  likely  the  sun  is  shining  above  the  clouds.  Fljf 


254  Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 

upward,  dear  Pensive ;  perhaps  above  the  mist  and  fog  you  will  find  light,  and 
may  see  the  Castle  of  Life." 

Pensive  spread  her  half-frozen  wings  and  courageously  flew  up  through  the 
cold  and  fog.  For  an  instant  Grazioso  could  follow  the  sound  of  her  flight,  then 
silence  supervened,  while  the  ice-block  continued  its  headlong  course  through 
the  darkness.  For  a  long  time  Grazioso  awaited  her  return,  but  at  last  when  he 
felt  himself  alone  hope  deserted  him,  and  he  lay  down  to  await  death  on  that 
frail  block  of  ice.  From  time  to  time  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning  traversed  the 
cloud,  and  dreadful  claps  of  thunder  were  to  be  heard.  It  was  as  if  the  end  of 
the  world  had  come.  All  at  once,  in  the  midst  of  his  despair  and  his  forlornness, 
Grazioso  heard  the  cry  of  a  swallow,  and  Pensive  dropped  at  his  feet. 

"  Master,  master  !  "  she  said,  "  you  were  right.  I  have  seen  the  shore  ;  the 
dawn  is  up  there.  Courage  !  " 

So  saying,  she  spread  her  tired  wings  convulsively,  and  then  lay  motionless 
and  lifeless. 

Grazioso  started  up,  placed  the  poor  bird  who  had  sacrificed  herself  for  him 
on  his  heart,  and  with  a  superhuman  effort  pushed  the  ice-block  forward  to  find 
at  last  safety  or  destruction.  Suddenly  he  was  aware  of  the  sound  of  the  sea, 
the  roaring  of  which  became  nearer  and  nearer.  He  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
closing  his  eyes,  awaited  death. 

A  high  wave  like  a  mountain  broke  over  his  head  and  threw  him  unconscious 
on  the  shore,  where  no  living  man  had  been  before  him. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"1T7HEN  Grazioso  regained  his  consciousness,  ice  clouds  and  darkness  had 
V  V  all  disappeared.  He  was  lying  on  the  ground  in  a  smiling  country, 
where  the  trees  were  bathed  in  a  clear  light.  Facing  him  was  a  beautiful  castle, 
from  which  a  stream  descended  swiftly  to  the  sea,  which  was  as  blue  and  clear 
and  calm  as  the  sky.  Grazioso  gazed  around  him  ;  he  was  alone— alone  with  the 
remains  of  his  two  friends,  which  the  wave  had  carried  to  the  shore  with  him. 
Worn  out  with  all  he  had  suffered  and  gone  through,  he  dragged  himself  to  the 
tream,  and  as  he  bent  over  the  water  to  moisten  his  parched  lips,  he  started 
back  m  horror.  It  was  not  his  own  face  he  saw  in  the  water,  but  that  of  an  old 
man  with  white  hair  who  was  like  him.  He  turned  round  ;  no  one  was '  behind 


The  Castle  of  Life.  355 

him.  Again  he  approached  the  spring,  and  again  he  saw  the  old  man,  or  rather 
there  was  no  doubt  the  old  man  was  himself.  "  Great  powers  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"  I  now  understand  you.  You  wanted  my  life  instead  of  my  grandmother's. 
Joyfully  I  accept  the  sacrifice ! "  and  without  further  troubling  himself  about 
his  old  age  and  his  wrinkles,  he  plunged  his  head  into  the  stream  and  drank 
greedily. 

On  rising,  he  was  surprised  to  see  himself  the  same  as  he  was  the  day  he 
quitted  home — younger,  his  hair  blacker,  and  his  eyes  brighter  than  ever.  He 
took  up  his  hat,  which  had  fallen  near  the  water,  and  a  drop  of  it  had  by  acci- 
dent touched  it.  O  wonder !  the  butterfly  which  he  had  stuck  on  it  moved  its 
wings  and  tried  to  fly  away.  Grazioso  ran  to  the  shore  to  take  up  Fidelio  and 
Pensive,  and  plunged  them  into  the  blessed  stream.  Pensive  escaped,  uttering 
a  little  cry  of  joy,  and  flew  off  to  the  castle  heights,  while  Fidelio,  shaking  the 
water  from  his  ears,  ran  to  the  stable-yard  of  the  palace,  whence  issued  some 
splendid  watch-dogs,  which,  instead  of  barking  at  the  new  arrival,  made  him 
welcome  as  an  old  friend.  It  was  the  Fountain  of  Immortality  that  Grazioso  had 
at  last  found,  or  rather  the  stream  which  issued  from  it,  though  its  miraculous 
powers  were  already  very  much  weakened,  and  gave  at  most  but  two  or  three 
hundred  years  of  life  to  those  who  drank  it. 

Grazioso  filled  his  flask  with  this  wonder-working  water,  and  went  on  to  the 
palace.  His  heart  was  beating,  for  still  one  last  trial  remained  for  him  ;  success 
was  so  near,  he  feared  the  more  to  fail.  Ascending  the  flight  of  steps  of  the 
castle,  he  found  it  all  shut  up  and  silent,  and  there  was  no  one  to  receive  the 
traveler.  As  he  was  on  the  last  step  ready  to  knock  at  the  door,  a  voice  more 
gentle  than  severe  arrested  him. 

"  Hast  thou  loved?  "  asked  the  invisible  voice. 

"Yes,"  replied  Grazioso,  "I  have  loved  my  grandmother  better  than  aught 
else  in  the  world." 

The  door  opened  sufficiently  to  let  his  hand  through. 

"  Hast  thou  suffered  for  her  whom  thou  lovest?"  returned  the  voice. 

"  I  have  suffered,"  said  Grazioso,  "  very  much  by  my  own  fault  no  doubt,  but 
a  little  also  for  her  whom  I  sought  to  save." 

The  door  half  opened,  and  the  young  fellow  could  see  an  infinite  perspective 
of  wood  and  water,  and  a  sky  more  beautiful  than  any  in  his  dreams. 

"  Hast  thou  always  done  thy  duty  ?  "  went  on  a  voice  in  a  grave  tone. 

"Alas,  no!  "  replied  Grazioso,  falling  on  his  knees;  "but  when  I  failed  I  have 
been  punished  by  my  remorse  more  even  than  by  the  hard  trials  I  have  gone 


356 


Laboulayes  Fairy   Tales. 


through.     Forgive  me,  and  if  I  have  not  yet  expiated  all  my  faults,  punish  me 
as  I  deserve,  but  save  her  whom  I  love ;  preserve  my  grandmother  for  me." 

Immediately  the  door  was  thrown  wide  open,  though  Grazioso  saw  no  one. 
Wild  with  joy  he  entered  a  courtyard  surrounded  by  arcades  covered  with 
foliage,  and  in  the  midst  was  a  fountain  which  sprang  out  of  a  bed  of  the  most 
beautiful  flowers,  larger  and  sweeter  than  any  earthly  ones.  Near  the  fountain 
was  a  lady  clad  in  white,  of  noble  appearance,  who  looked  about  forty  years  of 
age.  She  walked  toward  Grazioso,  and  welcomed  him  with  so  gentle  a  smile 
that  he  felt  deeply  moved  and  tears  sprang  to  his  eyes. 

"Dost  thou  not  know  me?"  said 
the  lady  to  Grazioso. 

"Oh,  Grandmother,  is  it  thou?" 
he  exclaimed,  "  how  didst  thou  come 
to  the  Castle  of  Life?" 

"  My  son,"  she  said,  pressing  him 
to  her  bosom,  "she  who  brought  me 
here  is  a  more  powerful  fairy  than 
the  fairies  of  the  woods  and  water.  I 
shall  return  no  more  to  Salerno ;  I 
am  receiving  here  the  reward  of  what 
little  good  I  have  done  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  a  happiness  which  time  will 
never  diminish." 

"And     me,     Grandmother,"     ex- 
claimed Grazioso,  "  what  will  become 
of  me  ?     After  having  seen  thee  here, 
how  can  I  go  back  there  to  suffer  in 
solitude  ?  " 

"  Dear  son,"  she  replied,  "  one  can  no  longer  live  on  earth  after  tasting  the 
heavenly  delights  of  this  place.  Thou  hast  lived,  dear  Grazioso,  and  life  has 
nothing  further  to  teach  thee.  More  fortunate  than  I,  thou  hast  traversed  in 
four  days  the  desert  in  which  I  have  languished  for  four-score  years.  Henceforth 
nothing  can  separate  us." 

The  door  then  closed,  and  since  then  nothing  more  has  been  heard  of  Grazioso 
and  his  grandmother. 

^  In  vain  the  King  of  Naples  has  sought  for  the  palace  and  the  enchanted  fount- 
am  in  Calabria ;  they  have  never  again  been  found  on  earth.     But  if  we  listen 


The  Castle  of  Life.  357 

to  the  language  of  the  stars,  and  attend  to  what  they  tell  us  every  evening  as 
they  send  forth  their  gentle  rays,  we  shall  know  where  the  Castle  of  Life  and 
the  Fountain  of  Immortality  are  really  to  be  found. 

i 

CONCLUSION. 

NUNZIATA  had  finished  her  tale,  and  still  I  sat  listening,  admiring  her 
eyes  in  which  shone  a  childlike  belief  in  these  marvels  which  her  mother 
had  told  her,  and  watching  the  movements  of  her  little  hands,  which  seemed  to 
describe  men  and  things. 

*  Well,  your  excellency,"  cried  the  fisherman,  "  you  do  not  say  any  thing  ? 
The  warck»sina  has  charmed  you  as  she  has  many  others.  And  these  are  not 
mere  tales,  for  we  will  show  you  Grazioso's  house  at  Salerno." 

"  That's  all  right,'"  I  replied,  a  little  ashamed  of  being  amused  by  such  fables. 
"  The  child  tells  ?  story  delightfully,  and  to  show  my  gratitude  when  we  land  I 
will  buy  her  an  ivory  rosary  with  great  silver  beads." 

She  blushed  with  pleasure,  and  I  kissed  her,  which  made  her  rosier  still,  while 
her  father  looked  at  me  and  turned  to  his  companions  with  triumphant  eyes. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  he,  "  to-morrow,  if  you  will  allow  it,  your  excellency,  she 
shall  tell  you  a  still  better  story,  which  will  make  you  laugh  and  weep  by 
turns." 

The  next  day  we  went  from  Amalfi  to  Salerno,  and  Nunziata —  But  the  ac- 
count of  that  journey  is  a  secret  which  I  shall  keep  for  next  year  if  Grazioso's 
story  has  not  wearied  the  reader. 

Meanwhile,  dear  readers,  I  will  bid  you  good-by  with  the  same  parting  words 
that  the  worthy  captain  used  to  address  to  me  every  day.  "  Be  good,  my  friend, 
obey  your  mother,  do  your  duty,  so  that  you  may  be  allowed  to  listen  to  my 
stories  to-morrow.  Pleasure  is  only  good  after  being  earned.  Pleasure  is  all  the 
sweeter  for  duty  coming  first.  He  who  has  worked  the  hardest  enjoys  himself 
the  most.  And  now. "  he  used  to  add,  taking  my  hand,  "  God  be  with  you  ;  I 
commend  you  to  God." 

Farewell,  then,  my  friends !  May  you  profit  by  the  wisdom  of  Captain  John 
enough  to  make  you  as  good  and  industrious  as  your  father,  and  as  gentle  and 
amiable  as  your  mother.  This  is  one  of  the  last  wishes  ot  your  old  friend. 


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