 STORY 48 OF THE FAIRY RING In times of yore, when wishes were both heard and granted, lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so lovely that the son himself, who has seen so much, wandered at her beauty every time he looked in her face. Now near the king's castle was a large dark forest, and in the forest under an old linden tree was a deep well. When the day was very hot, the king's daughter used to go to the wood and seat herself at the edge of the cool well. And when she became wearied, she would take a golden ball, throw it up in the air, and catch it again. This was her favorite amusement. Once it happened that her golden ball, instead of falling back into the little hand that she stretched out for it, dropped on the ground and immediately rolled away into the water. The king's daughter followed it with her eyes, but the ball had vanished, and the well was so deep that no one could see down to the bottom. Then she began to weep, wept louder and louder every minute, and could not console herself at all. While she was thus lamenting, someone called to her. What is the matter with you, king's daughter? You weep so bitterly that you would touch the heart of a stone. She looked around to see whence the voice came, and saw a frog stretching his thick ugly head out of the water. Ah, it is you, old water paddler, said she. I am crying for my golden ball, which has fallen into the well. Be content, answered the frog. I dare say I can give you some good advice, but what will you give me if I bring back your plaything to you? Whatever you like, dear frog, said she. My clothes, my pearls, and jewels, even the golden crown I wear. The frog answered, Your clothes, your pearls, and jewels, even your golden crown I do not care for. But if you will love me, and let me be your companion and playfellow, sit near you at your little table, eat from your little golden plate, drink from your little cup, and sleep in your little bed. If you will promise me this, then I will bring you back your golden ball from the bottom of the well. Oh, yes, said she. I promise you everything if you will only bring me back, my golden ball. She thought to herself, meanwhile, What nonsense the silly frog talks. He sits in the water with the other frogs and croaks, and cannot be anybody's playfellow. But the frog, as soon as he had received the promise, dipped its head under the water, and sank down. In a little while up he came again with a ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The king's daughter was overjoyed when she beheld her pretty plaything, and picked it up and ran away with it. Wait, wait! cried the frog. Take me with you. I cannot run as fast as you. Alas! Oh, what use was it that he croaked after her as loud as he could. She would not listen to him, but hastened home, and soon forgot the poor frog, who was obliged to plunge again to the bottom of his well. The next day, when she was sitting at dinner with the king and all his courtiers, eating from her little golden plate, there came a sound of something creeping up the marble staircase. Splish, splash! And when it had reached the top, it knocked the door and cried, Jung is king's daughter, open to me! She ran, wishing to see who was outside. But when she opened the door and there sat the frog, she flung it hastily to again, and sat down a table, feeling very, very uncomfortable. The king saw that her heart was beating violently and said, Well, my child, why are you afraid? Is a giant standing outside the door to carry you off? Oh, no, answered she. It is no giant, but a nasty frog, who just today, when I was playing in the wood near the well, fetched my golden ball out of the water. For this I promised him he should be my companion, but I never thought he could come out of his well. Now he is at the door and wants to come in. Again the second time there was a knock, and a voice cried, Jung is king's daughter, open to me! Now you watch yesterday you promise me by the cool water. Jung is king's daughter, open to me! Then said the king, What you promised you must perform! Go and open the door! She went and opened the door. The frog hopped in, always following, and following her till he came up to her chair. There he sat and cried out, Lift me up to you on the table! She refused till the king, her father, commanded her to do it. When the frog was on the table he said, Now push your little golden plate near to me, that we may eat together. She did as he decide, but one could easily see that she did it unwillingly. The frog seemed to enjoy his dinner very much, but every morsel she ate stuck in the throat of the poor little princess. Then said the frog, I have eaten enough, and I am tired. Carry me to your little room, and make your little silk bed smooth, and we will lay ourselves down to sleep together. At this the daughter of the king began to weep, for she was afraid of the cold frog, who wanted to sleep in her pretty clean bed. But the king looked angrily at her and said again, What you have promised you must perform! The frog is your companion. It was no use to complain, whether she liked it or not she was obliged to take the frog with her up to her little bed. So she picked him up with two fingers, hating him bitterly the while, and carried him upstairs. But when she got into bed, instead of lifting him up to her, she threw him with all her strength against the wall, saying, Now you nasty frog, there will be an end of you! But what fell down from the wall was not a dead frog, but a living young prince, with beautiful and loving eyes, who at once became by her own promise, and by her father's will her dear companion and husband. He told her how he had been cursed by a wicked sorceress, and that no one but the king's youngest daughter could release him from his enchantment and take him out of the well. The next day a carriage drove up to the palace gates with eight white horses, having white feathers on their heads and golden reins. Behind it stood the servant of the young prince, called the faithful Henry. This faithful Henry had been so greed when his master was changed into a frog, that he had been compelled to have three iron bands fastened around his heart lest it should break. Now the carriage came to convey the prince to his kingdom, so the faithful Henry lifted in the bride and bridegroom, and mounted behind, full of joy at his lord's release. But when they had gone a short distance, the prince heard behind him a noise as if something was breaking. He turned around and cried out, Henry, the carriage is breaking! But Henry replied, No, sir, it is not the carriage, but one of the bands from my heart with which I was forced to bind it up, or it would have broken with grief, while you sat as a frog at the bottom of the well. Twice again this happened, and the prince always thought the carriage was breaking, but it was only the bands breaking off from the heart of the faithful Henry, out of joy that his lord the frog prince was a frog no more. End of The Frog Prince, read by Lars Rolander The king of a great land died and left his queen to take care of their only child. This child was a daughter who was very beautiful, and her mother loved her dearly and who was very kind to her. And there was a good fairy too who was fond of the princess and helped her mother to watch over her. When she grew up, she was betrothed to her prince who lived a great way off, and as the time drew near for her to be married, she made ready to set off on her journey to this country. Then the queen, her mother, packed up a great many costly things, jewels and gold and silver, trinkets, fine dresses, and in short, everything that became a royal bride. And she gave her a waiting maid to ride with her and give her into the bride room's hands, and each had a horse for the journey. Now the princess's horse was the fairy's gift, and it was called Filata and could speak. When the time came for them to set out, the fairy went into her bedchammer and took a little knife and cut off a lock of her hair and gave it to the princess and said, take care of it dear child, for it is a charm that may be of use to you on the road. Then they all took a sorrowful leave of the princess, and she put the lock of hair into her bosom, got upon her horse, and set off on her journey to her bride room's kingdom. One day, as they were riding along by a brook, the princess began to feel very thirsty and said to her maid, pray get down there and fetch me some water and my golden cup out of yonder brook, for I want a drink. Nay said the maid, if you're thirsty, get off and stoop down by the water and drink, I shall not be a waiting maid any longer. Then she was so thirsty that she got down and knelt over the little brook and drank, for she was frightened and dared not bring out her golden cup, and she wept and said, alas, what will become of me? And the lock of hair answered her and said, alas, alas, if thy mother knew it, sadly, sadly, she would rue it. But the princess was very gentle and meek, so she said nothing to her maid's ill behavior, but got upon her horse again. Then all rode farther on their journey, till the day grew so warm and the sun so scorching that the bride began to feel very thirsty again, and at last, when they came to her river, she forgot her maid's rude speech, and said, pray get down and fetch me some water to drink in my golden cup. But the maid answered her and spoke even more haughtily than before. Drink if you will, but I shall not be your waiting maid. Then the princess was so thirsty that she got off her horse and lay down, held her head over the running stream and cried and said, what will become of me? And the lock of hair answered her again, alas, alas, if thy mother knew it, sadly, sadly, she would rue it. And as she leaned down to drink, the lock of hair fell from her bosom and floated away with the water. Now she was so frightened that she did not see it, but her maid saw it and was very glad, for she knew the charm. And she saw that the poor bride would be in her power, now that she had lost the hair. So when the bride had done drinking, and would get a panfilata again, the maid said, I shall ride a panfilata, and you may have my horse instead. So she was forced to give up her horse and soon afterwards to take off her royal clothes and put on her maid's shabby ones. At last, as they drew near to the end of their journey, this treacherous servant threatened to kill her mistress if she ever told anyone what happened. But Filata saw it all and marked it well. The waiting maid got upon Filata and the real bride rode upon the other horse, and they went on this way until at last they came to the royal court. There was great joy at their coming, and the prince flew to meet them and lifted the maid from her horse, thinking she was the one who was to be his wife. And she was led upstairs to the royal chamber, but the true princess was told to stay in the court below. Now the old king happened just then to have nothing else to do, so he amused himself by sitting at his kitchen window, looking at what was going on, and he saw her in the courtyard. As she looked very pretty and too delicate for a waiting maid, he went up to the royal chamber to ask the bride who it was she had brought with her that was left standing in the court below. I brought her with me for the sake of her company on the road, said she. Pray give the girls some work to do, that she might not be idle. The old king could not for some time think of any work for her to do, but at last, he said, I have a lad who takes care of my geese. She may go and help him. Now the name of this lad, that the real bride was helping watching the king's geese, was Kurdkin. But the false bride said to the prince, dear husband, pray do me one active kindness. That I will, said the prince. Then tell one of your slaughterers to cut off the head of the horse I rode upon, for it was very unruly and plagued me sadly on the road. But the truth was, she was very much afraid lest Filata should someday or other speak and tell what she had done to the princess. She carried her point and was the faithful Filata killed. But when the true princess heard of it, she wept and begged the man to nail up Filata's head against the large dark gate of the city, through which she had to pass every morning and evening, that there she might still see him sometimes. Then the slaughterers said he would do as she whist, and cut off the head and nailed it up under the dark gate. Early the next morning, as she and Kurdkin went out through the gate, she cried sorrowfully, Filata, Filata, they're thou hangest. And the head answered, Bride, Bride, they're thou gangest. Alas, alas, if they mother knew it, sadly, sadly, she would rue it. Then they went out of the city and drove the Gisan, and when she came to the meadow, she sat down upon a bank there and let down her waving locks of hair, which were all pure silver. And when Kurdkin saw it glitter in the sun, ran up and would have pulled some of the locks out, but she cried, Blow, breezes, blow, let Kurdkin's hat go, Blow, breezes, blow, let him after it go, or hills, dales, and rocks, away be it world, till the silvery locks are all combed and curled. Then there came a wind so strong, that it blew off Kurdkin's hat, and away it flew over the hills, and it was forced to turn and run after it. By the time he came back, she had done combing and curling her hair, and had put it up safe again. Then he was very angry and sulky and would not speak to her at all, but they watched the Gisan till it grew dark in the evening, and then drove them homeward. The next morning, as they were going through the dark gate, the poor girl looked at Falata's head and cried, Falata, Falata, there thou hangest. And it answered, Bride, Bride, there thou gangest. Alas, alas, if they mother knew it, sadly, sadly, she would rue it. And she drove on the Gisan, sat down again in the meadow, and began to comb out her hair as before, and Kurdkin ran up to her and wanted to take hold of it, but she cried out quickly, blow, breezes, blow, let Kurdkin's hat go, blow, breezes, blow, let him after it go, or hills, dales, and rocks, away be it world, till the silvery locks are all combed and curled. Then a wind came and blew away his hat, and off it flew a great way over the hills and far away, so that he had to run after it, and when he came back she had bound up her hair again, and all was safe. So they watched the geese till it grew dark. In the evening, after they came home, Kurdkin went to the old king and said, I cannot have that strange girl to help me with these geese any longer. Why? said the king. Because instead of doing any good, she does nothing but tease me all day along. Then the king made him tell what had happened, and Kurdkin said, When we go in the morning through the dark gate with our flock of geese, she cries and talks with the head of a horse that hangs upon the wall and says, Falata, falata, there thou hangest, and the head answers, Bride, bride, there thou gangest, alas, alas, if they mother knew it, sadly, sadly, she would rue it. And Kurdkin went on telling the king what had happened upon the meadow where the geese fed, how his hat was blown away and how he was forced to run after it, and to leave his flock of geese to themselves. But the old king told the boy to go out again the next day, and when morning came he placed himself behind the dark gate and heard how she spoke to Falata and how Falata answered. Then he went into the field and hid himself in a bush by the meadow side, and soon he saw with his own eyes how they drove the flock of geese and how after a little time she sat down and let out her hair that glittered in the sun. Then he heard her say, Blow, breezes, blow, let Kurdkin's hat go, Blow, breezes, blow, let him after it go, or hill, dales, and rocks, away be it world, till the silvery locks are all combed and curled. And soon came a gale of wind and carried away Kurdkin's hat, and away went Kurdkin after it, while the girl went on combing and curling her hair. All this the old king saw, so he went home without being seen, and when the little goose girl came back in the evening he called her aside and asked her why she did this, but she burst into tears and said, That I must not tell you, or any man, or I shall lose my life. But the king begged so hard that she had no peace till she had told him all the tale from beginning to end word for word, and it was very lucky for her that she did so, for when she had done the king ordered her royal clothes to be put upon her, and gazed on earth wonder if she was so beautiful. Then he called his son and told him that he had only the false bride for that she was merely a mating maid while the true bride stood bride. And the young king rejoiced when he saw her beauty and heard how meek and patient she had been, and without saying anything to the false bride, the king ordered a great feast to be made ready for all his court. The bridegroom set up the head, with the false princess on one side and the true on the other, but nobody knew her again, for her beauty was quite dazzling to their eyes, and she did not seem at all like the little goose girl now that she had her brilliant dress on. When they had all eaten and drunk, and were very merry, the old king said he would tell them a tale. So he began, and told all the story of the princess as if it was one he had once heard, and he asked the true waiting maid what she thought had to be done to anyone who would behave thus. Nothing better said this false bride than that she should be banished to the depths of the dark wood and live there forever. Thou art she, said the old king, and as Thou has judged thyself, so it shall be done to thee. And the young king was then married to his true wife, and they reigned over the kingdom in peace and happiness all their lives, and the good fairy came to see them, and restored the faithful philata to life again. End of the goose girl. A long time ago there lived a king and a queen who said every day, if only we had a child, but for a long time they had none. It fell out once, as the queen was bathing, that a frog crept out of the water onto the land and said to her, Your wish shall be fulfilled, before a year has passed you shall bring a daughter into the world. The frog's words came true. The queen had a little girl who was so beautiful that the king could not contain himself for joy and prepared a great feast. He invited not only his relations, friends and acquaintances, but the fairies, in order that they might be favorably and kindly disposed toward the child. There were thirteen of them in the kingdom, but as the king had only twelve golden plates for them to eat off, one of the fairies had to stay at home. The feast was held with awe splendor, and when it came to an end the fairies all presented the child with a magic gift. One gave her virtue, another beauty, a third riches, and so on, with everything in the world that she could wish for. When eleven of the fairies had their say, the thirteenth suddenly appeared. She wanted to revenge herself for not having been invited. Without greeting anyone, or even glancing at the company, she called out in a loud voice. The princess shall prick herself with a distaff in her fifteenth year, and shall fall down dead. And without another word she turned and left the hall. Everyone was terror-stricken, but the twelfth fairy, whose wish was still unspoken, stepped forward. She could not cancel the curse, but could only soften it, so she said, It shall not be death but a deep sleep lasting a hundred years into which your daughter shall fall. The king was so anxious to guard his dear child from the misfortune that he sent out a command that all the distaffs in the whole kingdom should be burned. All the promises of the fairies came true. The princess grew up so beautiful, modest, kind and clever that everyone who saw her could not but love her. Now it happened that on the very day when she was fifteen years old the king and queen were away from home, and the princess was left quite alone in the castle. She wandered about over the whole place, looking at rooms and halls as she pleased, and at last she came to an old tower. She ascended a narrow, winding staircase and reached a little door. A rusty key was sticking in the lock, and when she turned it the door flew open. In a little room sat an old woman with a spindle, busily spinning her flax. Good day, Granny, said the princess. What are you doing? I am spinning, said the old woman, and nodded her head. What is the thing that whirls round so merrily? asked the princess, and she took the spindle and tried to spin too. But she had scarcely touched it before the curse was fulfilled, and she pricked her finger upon the spindle. The instant she felt the prick she fell upon the bed which was standing near, and lay still in a deep sleep which spread over the whole castle. The king and queen, who had just come home and had stepped into the hall, went to sleep, and all their courtiers with them. The horses went to sleep in the stable, the dogs in the yard, the doves on the roof, and the flies on the wall. Yes, even the fire flickering on the hearth grew still and went to sleep, and the roast meat stopped crackling, and the cook who was pulling the scullion's hair because he had made some mistake let him go and went to sleep. And the wind dropped and on the trees in front of the castle not a leaf stirred. But round the castle a hedge of briar roses began to grow up. Every year it grew higher, till at last it surrounded the whole castle so that nothing could be seen of it, not even the flags on the roof. But there was a legend in the land about the lovely sleeping briar rose, as the king's daughter was called, and from time to time princes came and tried to force the way through the hedge into the castle. But they found it impossible, for the thorns, as though they had hands, held them fast, and the princes remained caught in them without being able to free themselves, and so died a miserable death. After many, many years a prince came again to the country and heard an old man tell of the castle which stood behind the briar hedge, in which a most beautiful maiden called briar rose had been asleep for the last hundred years, and with her slept the king, queen, and all her courtiers. He knew also from his grandfather that many princes had already come and sought to pierce through the briar hedge and had remained caught in it and died a sad death. Then the young prince said, I am not afraid. I am determined to go and look upon the lovely briar rose. The good old man did all in his power to dissuade him, but the prince would not listen to his words. Now, however, the hundred years were just ended, and the day had come when briar rose was to wake up again. When the prince approached the briar hedge it was in blossom and was covered with beautiful large flowers which made way for him of their own accord and let him pass unharmed, and then closed up again into a hedge behind him. In the courtyard he saw the horses and dappled hounds lying asleep. On the roof sat the doves with their heads under their wings, and when he went into the house the flies were asleep on the walls, and near the throne lay the king and queen. In the kitchen was the cook with his hand raised as though about to strike the scullion, and the maid sat with the black fowl before her which she was about to pluck. He went on farther and all was so still that he could hear his own breathing. At last he reached the tower and opened the door into the little room where briar rose was asleep. There she lay, looking so beautiful that he could not take his eyes off her. He bent down and gave her a kiss. As he touched her briar rose opened her eyes and looked quite sweetly at him. Then they went down together, and the king and the queen and all the courtiers woke up and looked at each other with astonished eyes. The horses in the stable stood up and shook themselves. The hounds leaped about and wagged their tails. The doves on the roof lifted their heads from under their wings, looked around and flew into the fields. The flies on the walls began to crawl again. The fire in the kitchen roused itself and blazed up and cooked the food. The meat began to crackle, and the cook boxed the scullion's ears so soundly that he screamed aloud, while the maid finished plucking the fowl. Then the wedding of the prince and briar rose was celebrated with all splendor, and they lived happily till they died. End of Briar Rose Story 51 of the Fairy Ring This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Anne Cheng The Fairy Ring Edited by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith Story 51 The Iron Stove Once upon a time, when wishes came true, there was a king's son, who was enchanted by an old witch, so that he was obliged to sit in a large iron stove in a wood. There he lived for many years, and no one could free him. At last a king's daughter came into the wood. She had lost her way, and could not find her father's kingdom again. She had been wandering round and round for nine days, and she came at last to the iron stove. A voice came from within, and asked her, Where do you come from, and where do you want to go? She answered, I have lost my way to my father's kingdom, and I shall never get home again. Then the voice from the iron stove said, I will help you to find your home again, and that in a very short time, if you were promised to do what I ask you, I am a greater prince than you are, princess, and I will marry you. Then she grew frightened and thought, what can a young lassie do with an iron stove? But as she wanted very much to go home to her father, she promised to do what he wished. He said, you must come again, and bring a knife with you to scrape a hole in the iron. Then he gave her someone for a guide who walked near her and said nothing, but he brought her in two hours to her house. There was great joy in the castle when the princess came back, and the old king fell on her neck and kissed her. But she was very much troubled and said, Dear father, listen to what has befallen me. I should never have come home again out of the great wild wood if I had not come to an iron stove, and I have had to promise that I will go back to free him and marry him. The old king was so frightened that he nearly fainted, for she was his only daughter. So they consulted together, and determined that the miller's daughter, who was very beautiful, should take her place. They took her there, gave her a knife, and said she must scrape at the iron stove. She scraped for 24 hours, but did not make the least impression. When the day broke, a voice called from the iron stove. It seems to me that it is day outside. Then she answered, It seems so to me, I think I hear my father's mill rattling. So you are miller's daughter, then go away at once and tell the king's daughter to come. Then she went away and told the old king that the thing inside the iron stove would not have her, but wanted the princess. The old king was frightened, and his daughter wept. But they had a swine-herge daughter, who was even more beautiful than the miller's daughter. And they gave her a piece of gold to go to the iron stove, instead of the princess. Then she was taken there, and made to scrape for 24 hours, but she could make no impression. As soon as the day broke, the voice from the stove called out. It seems to be daylight outside. Then she answered, It seems so to me too, I think I hear my father blowing his horn. So you are swine-herge's daughter, go away at once and let the king's daughter come. And say to her that what I foretell shall come to pass, and if she does not come, everything in the kingdom shall fall into ruin, and not one stone shall be left upon another. When the princess heard this she began to pry, but it was no good she had to keep her word. She took leave of her father, put a knife in her belt, and went to the iron stove in the wood. As soon as she reached it she began to scrape, and the iron gave way, and before two hours had passed she had made a little hole. Then she peeped in, and saw such a beautiful youth, all shining with golden precious stones, that she fell in love with him on the spot. So she scraped away harder than ever, and made the hole so large that he could get out. Then he said, You are mine, and I am thine. You are my bride, and have set me free. He wanted to take her with him to his kingdom, but she begged him just to let her go once more to her father. And the prince let her go, but told her not to say more than three words to her father. Then to come back again. So she went home. But alas! she said more than three words, and immediately the iron stove vanished, and went away over a mountain of glass and sharp swords. But the prince was free, and was no longer shut up in it. Then she said good-bye to her father, and took a little money with her, and went again into the great wood, to look for the iron stove. But she could not find it. She sought it for nine days, and then her hunger became so great that she did not know how she could live any longer. And when it was evening, she climbed a little tree, and wished that the night would not come, because she was afraid of the wild beasts. When midnight came, she saw afar off a little light, and thought, ah, if only I could reach that. Then she got down from the tree, and went toward the light. She came to a little old house, with a great deal of grass growing around, and stood in front of a little heap of wood. She thought, alas! what am I coming to? And peeped through the window. But she saw nothing inside, except big and little toads, and a table, beautifully spread with roast meats and wine, and all the dishes and drinking cups were of silver. So she took heart and knocked. Then a fat toad called out. Little green toad, with leg-like crook, opened wide the door and looked, who it was, the latch that shook. And a little toad came forward and let her in. When she entered, they all bait her welcome and made her sit down. They asked her how she came then, and what she wanted. Then she told everything that had happened to her, and how, because she had exceeded her permission only to speak three words, the stoop had disappeared with the prince, and how she had searched for a very long time, and must wander over mountain and valley till she found him. Then the old toad said, Little green toad, whose leg docked twist, go to the corner of which you wist, and bring to me the large old kiss. And the little toad went and brought out a great chest. Then they gave her food and drink, and led her to a beautifully made bed of silk and samite, on which she lay down and slept soundly. When the day dawned, she arose, and the old toad gave her three things out of the huge chest to take with her. She would have needed them, for she had to cross a high glass mountain, three cutting swords, and a great lape. When she had passed these, she would find her lover again. So she was given three large needles, a plow-wheel, and three nuts, which she was to take great care of. She set out with these things, and when she came to the glass mountain, which was so slippery, she stuck the three needles behind her feet, and then in front, and so got over it. And when she was on the other side, put them carefully away. Then she reached the three cutting swords, and got on her plow-wheel, and rolled over them. At last she came to a great lake, and when she had crossed that arrived at a beautiful castle. She went in, and gave herself out as a servant, a poor maid who would gladly be engaged. But she knew that the prince whom she had freed from the iron stove in the great wood was in the castle. So she was taken on as a kitchen maid for very small wages. Now the prince was about to marry another princess, for he thought she was dead long ago. In the evening, when she had washed up and was ready, she felt in her pocket and found the three nuts which the old toad had given her. She cracked one, and was going to eat the kernel. When behold, there was a beautiful royal dress inside it. When the bride heard of this, she came and begged for the dress, and wanted to buy it, saying that it was not a dress for a serving maid. Then she said she would not sell it, unless she was granted one favour, namely to sleep by the prince's door. The bride granted her this, because the dress was so beautiful, and she had so few like it. When it was evening, she said to her bridegroom, that stupid maid wants to sleep by your door. If you are contented, I am, he said. But she gave him a glass of wine, in which she had poured a sleeping draught. Then they both went to their room, but he slept so soundly that she could not wake him. The maid wept all night long and said, I freed you in the wild wood out of the iron stow. I have sought you and have crossed a glassy mountain, three sharp swords and a great lake before I found you. And will you not hear me now? The servants outside heard how she cried the whole night, and they told their master in the morning. When she had washed up the next evening, she bit the second nut, and there was a still more beautiful dress inside. When the bride saw it, she wanted to buy it also. But the maid did not want money, and asked that she to sleep again by the prince's door. The bride, however, gave him a sleeping draught, and he slept so soundly that he heard nothing. But the kitchen maid wept the whole night long and said, I have freed you in a wood and from an iron stow. I sought you and have crossed a glassy mountain, three sharp swords and a great lake to find you, and now you will not hear me. The servants outside heard how she cried the whole night, and in the morning they told their master. And when she had washed up on the third night, she bit the third nut, and there was a still more beautiful dress inside that was made of pure gold. When the bride saw it, she wanted to have it, but the maid would only give it her on condition that she should sleep for the third time by the prince's door. But the prince took care not to drink the sleeping draught. When she began to weep and to say, Dearest sweetheart, I freed you in the horrible wild wood and from an iron stow. He jumped up and said, Thou art right, Thou art mine, and I am thine. Though it was still night, he got into a carriage with her, and they took the false bride's clothes away, so that she could not follow them. When they came to the great lake, they roved across, and when they reached the three sharp swords, they sat on the plow-wheel, and on the glassy mountain they stuck the three needles in. So they arrived at last at the little old house. But when they stepped inside, it turned into a large castle. The toads were all freed, and were beautiful king's children running about for joy. There they were married, and they remained in the castle, which is much larger than that of the princess's father. But because the old man did not like being left alone, they went and fetched him. So they had two kingdoms, and lived in great wealth. A mouse has run, my story's done. End of The Iron Stove By the side of the wood in a country a long way off, ran a fine stream of water, and upon the stream there stood a mill. The miller's house was close by, and the miller, you must know, had a very beautiful daughter. She was, moreover, very shrewd and clever, and the miller was so proud of her that he one day told the king of the land, who used to come and hunt in the wood, that his daughter could spin gold out of straw. Now this king was very fond of money, and when he heard the miller's boast his greediness was roused, and he sent for the girl to be brought before him. Then he led her to a chamber in his palace, where there was a great heap of straw, and gave her a spinning wheel, and said, All this must be spun into gold before morning, as you love your life. It was in vain that the poor made, and said, that it was only a silly boast of her father, for that she could do no such thing as spin straw into gold. The chamber door was locked, and she was left alone. She sat down in one corner of the room, and began to bewail her hard fate, when, on a sudden, the door opened, and a droll-looking little man hobbled in, and said, Good morrow to you, my good lass, what are you weeping for? Alas, said she, I must spin this straw into gold, and I know not how. What will you give me? said the hobgoblin, to do it for you. My necklace replied the maiden. He took her at her word, and set himself down to the wheel, and whistled, and sung. Round about, round about, lo and behold, reel away, reel away, straw into gold. And round about the wheel went merrily. The work was quickly done, and the straw was all spun into gold. When the king came in and saw this, he was greatly astonished and pleased. But his heart grew still more greedy of gain, and he shut up the poor miller's daughter again, with a fresh task. Then she knew not what to do, and sat down once more to weep. But the door soon opened the door, and said, What will you give me to do your task? The ring on my finger, said she. So her little friend took the ring, and begun to work at the wheel again, and whistled, and sung. Round about, round about, lo and behold, reel away, reel away, straw into gold. Till, long before morning, all was done again. The king was greatly delighted to see all this glittering treasure, but still he had not enough. So he took the miller's daughter to a yet larger heap, and said, All this must be spun tonight, and if it is, you shall be my queen. As soon as she was alone, the dwarf came in, and said, What will you give me to spend gold for you this third time? I have nothing left, said she. Then say you will give me, said the little man, the first little child that you may have when you are queen. That may never be, thought the miller's daughter. And as she knew no other way to get her task done, she said she would do what he asked. Round went the wheel again to the old song, and the mannequin once more spun the heap into gold. The king came in the morning, and finding all he wanted was forced to keep his word. So he married the miller's daughter, and she really became queen. At the birth of her first little child, she was very glad, and forgot the dwarf and what she had promised. But one day he came into a room where she was sitting, playing with her baby, and put her in mind of it. Then she grieved sorely at her misfortune, and said she would give him all the wealth of the kingdom if he would let her off, but in vain, till at last her tears softened him. And he said, I will give you three days' grace, and if during that time you tell me my name, you shall keep your child. Now the queen lay awake all night, thinking of all the odd names that she had ever heard. And she sent messages all over the land to find out new ones. The next day the little man came, and she began with Timothy, Ichabod, Benjamin, Jeremiah, and all the names she could remember. But to all and each of them he said, Madam, that is not my name. The second day she began with all the comical names she could hear of, bandy legs, hunchback, krupshanks, and so on. But the little gentleman still said to every one of them, Madam, that is not my name. The third day one of the messages came back and said, I travelled two days without hearing of any other names, but yesterday, as I was climbing a high hill among the trees of the forest where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, I saw a little hut, and before the hut burned a fire, and round about the fire a funny little door was dancing upon one leg and singing. Merrily the feast I'll make, today I'll brew, tomorrow bake. Merrily I'll dance and sing, for next day will a stranger bring. Little does my lady dream, Rumpelstiltskin is my name. When the queen heard this she jumped for joy, and as soon as her little friend came, she sat down upon her throne and called all her court around to enjoy the fun, and the nurse stood by her side with the baby in her arms as if it was quite ready to be given up. Then the little man began to chuckle at the thoughts of having the poor child to take home with him to his hut in the woods, and he cried out, Now Lady, what is my name? Is it John? Ask she. No, Madam. Is it Tom? No, Madam. Is it Jimmy? It is not. Can your name be Rumpelstiltskin, said the lady slowly. Some witch told you that, some witch told you that, cried the little man, and dashed his right foot in a rage so deep into the floor that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull it out. Then he made the best of his way off, while the nurse laughed and the baby crowed, and all the court jeered at him for having had so much trouble for nothing, and said, We wish you a very good morning and a merry feast, Mr Rumpelstiltskin. End of story Rumpelstiltskin. Story 53 on the Fairy Ring This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Lars Rolander The Fairy Ring Edited by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith Story 53 Faithful John the King's Servant The old king lay dying and was very much worried in his mind, because he was leaving behind him as his heir, his son, who was a headstrong and willful youth not yet come of years of wisdom. He called to his bedside Faithful John, who had been his servant ever since he was a boy, and charged him with us. I am going to my last rest, and I am sorrowful because my boy is left alone in a high position, and will have no other guidance but yours. Be his guardian and counselor, and serve him faithfully, even as you have served me, or I cannot die happily. Master, I will, answered Faithful John, even if it cost me my life. Now I can rest in peace, said the king. When I am dead, you must lead him all over the castle, and show him the halls and chambers and the walls and the treasures therein. But one room he must never enter, the last room in the long corridor, for there hangs the portrait of the daughter of the king of the Golden Palace, and she is so beautiful that whoever gazes upon her picture will fall down in a swoon for love of her, and will go through great perils for her sake. Therefore he must never enter that room. The trusty servant pressed his master's hand and promised to do his commands, and soon afterwards the king laid his head on the pillow and died. After the old king was laid in his grave, the faithful John told the young king of the commands his father had laid upon him, and swore to serve him faithfully, even unto death. When the days of mourning were over, he told the young king that it was now time for him to see his inheritance. So they went all over the castle, up into the towers, and down into the walls, and saw all the great treasure the old king had collected, and they went into the grand halls and splendid chambers, into all, say one, the last room at the end of the long corridor wherein hung the portrait. The king noticed that they always passed this door and asked John why. There is something there that is dangerous to see, said John. But, answered the king, I have seen everything else that I possess, and you must not imagine I am going away without seeing this. Faithful John tried to argue him out of it, but it was of no use, and the obstinate king even made an effort to force the door open, and declared that he would not leave the spot till he had seen the contents of the chamber. So John, seeing that there was nothing for it, but Jill sorrowfully took the key from the bunch and put it in lock. He turned it suddenly and hurried in hoping to cover over the portrait before the king saw it, but he was close on his heels, and John was too late to prevent the catastrophe. For no sooner had his master set eyes on the wonderful painting, which appeared to be living, breathing flesh, than he fell on the floor in a swoon. Poor John carried him tenderly to his bed, deeply bewailing the misfortune that had come upon them, and by dint of forcing wine down his throat, he brought him round again. The first words that he uttered were, Who is the lady of the beautiful picture? She is the daughter of the king of the Golden Palace, replied John. Then, said the king, we must seek her at once, for I am filled with so great a love for her, that if all the leaves of the trees had tongues, they should not gainsay it. Then trusted John thought for a long, long time as how to set about the matter, for it was very difficult to reach the presence of the beautiful princess. At last he thought of a plan, and said to the king, I have thought of a way by which you may achieve your end. All the things the princess uses, and all the things about her are gold, chairs, tables, dishes, pots, and pans. All are fashioned of gold. There are five tons of gold bars in your cellars. You must have them brought into articles of every kind, even into beasts and flowers, and then we will set out and seek her favor. So the king sent for all the goldsmiths in the kingdom, and they worked day and night till all the gold was made into most wonderful and beautiful forms of the finest workmanship. Then they took them all aboard a great ship, and set sail. They sailed for many days till they came to the city, wedwalt the daughter of the king of the golden palace. The faithful John had decided that it was better for him to go ashore, so he told the king to remain on board, and have all things in readiness. The treasures displayed and all in order, lest he should bring the princess back with him. Then he tied up some of the smaller things in a handkerchief and rode ashore. When he entered the courtyard of the palace, he saw a beautiful girl filling two golden palaces the well. When they were full, she turned, and perceiving the stranger demanded his business. So he untied the handkerchief and showed her the dainty trinkets. She was delighted with him, and at once said, The princess must see these, for she has a passion for gold things, and will no doubt buy them all. So she took him by the hand and led him to the king's daughter. The princess was even more beautiful than report had made her, and John was dazzled. The lady was very gracious to him, and was charmed with his treasures, which she wished to purchase. But John said, I am only a servant. My master is a rich merchant who has even more beautiful things than these aboard his ship. Let them be brought hither, replied the princess. But he said, That would take many days and nights. Their number is so vast, and even if they were all brought hither, there is no room in the palace large enough to show them to advantage. The princess' curiosity was very much excited by this time, and she said, Bring me to the ship, and I will see them there. Faithful John was overjoyed at the success of his plans, and conducted her dither immediately. When the king saw her, he was so overcome with her beauty, that he could hardly help her aboard. But he managed to control the violent beatings of his heart, and led her down into the cabin. John remained on deck, and commanded the helmsman to steer out sea, and put on all the sail he could, so that they might leave the land far behind. Down below the princess was enjoying herself immensely, looking at all the beautiful and curious things, and several hours passed before she bethought her that it was time to go ashore. So she went on deck prepared to land immediately. And behold, no land was to be seen, nothing but the wide sea all around her. Ah, she screamed in sudden terror, I'm entrapped by a strange merchant. I would rather die than remain in his power. The king reassured her, and taking her hand he said, I am no merchant. I am a king of royal blood like yourself. I have carried you off, because my love for you is so great that I cannot live without you. You must know that when I saw your portrait, I was so stricken with love for you, that I fell in a swoon before it. When the king's daughter heard this, her fear disappeared, and love grew in its place, and she was willing to be his bride. One day when John was sitting on deck, piping sweet music, three crows flew over the ship, talking hard all the time. John understood every word they said, and this is what he heard. There he is, sailing home with the daughter of the king of the Golden Palace, said the first. Ah, they are not home yet, said the second. But she is with him in the ship, said the third. What matters that, began the first again. When they land there will come a beautiful fox-collared horse, and he will spring upon it, and the horse will bound away with him up into the air, and he will never be seen again. But is there no way to save him? The second one asked. Yes, if one springs up quickly behind him and seizes the pistols which are in the holsters, and shoots the fox-collared horse, then the king will be saved. But nobody knows, and if one knew and told him, he would be turned into stone, from toe to knee. Then the second crow spoke again. I know still more, for even if the horse be shot, he will not keep his lovely bride. When they arrive at the castle, a bridal shirt will be brought to him, on a dish, looking as though were made of silver and gold. But it is only sulfur and pitch, and when he puts it on, it will be burned to the marrow of his bones. Is there no way to save him? Ask the third crow. Oh yes, if one were to take up the shirt with his gloves on, and throw it on the fire before the king touches it, he will be saved. But what matter? For no one knows that, and if one knew and were to tell, he would be turned into stone, from his knee to his heart. Then the third crow spoke again. I know even more, even if the shirt be burned, the king will not keep his bride. After supper, a dance will be held, and suddenly, when she is dancing, the queen will turn pale and fall in a faint, and if someone does not raise her up and take three drops of blood from her little finger, and throw them away, she will die. But if anyone knows that and tells it, he will be turned into stone, from the crown of his head to the toes of his feet. Then the crows flew away, leaving John very quiet and sad. For if he concealed what he knew, misfortune would fall upon his master, and if he told, he must lose his own life. But he decided that whatever happened to himself, he must save his master. When they landed, it happened just as the crows had said, and a beautiful fox-colored horse appeared in front of the king. He exclaimed with pleasure, Splendid, this shall carry us to the castle, and he sprang into the saddle. But John sprang up after him, and finding the pistols shocked the horse dead. The other servants, who were jealous of John, began to grumble at this and said, Shreem, to kill such a lovely animal, which was fit to bear the king. But the king said, Peace, be silent. He is my faithful servant, and I trust him. Who knows what he has saved us from? Then they went on to the castle, and in the hall it happened just as it had been foretold. A beautiful bridal shirt was brought to the king. He was just about to pick it up and put it on, when John threw himself in front of him, and ceasing the shirt, carried it to the fire, and burnt it. Again the other servants set up a murmur. What is he about? Say, he has burned the bridal shirt. But the king silenced them and said, He is my faithful John, and I trust him. Who, what danger he has averted? After the wedding supper, a grand ball was given, and John watched the queen very carefully while she danced. Suddenly he saw her turn pale and fall in a faint. He hurried toward her, and lifting her up, he hurried her away to her chamber. Then he knelt down, and drawing three drops of blood from her little finger, he threw them away. Soon the queen stirred, and then set up, quiet herself again. But the king had watched all this, and this time he was furiously angry with faithful John, and ordered him to be thrown into prison. Next day he was brought to trial, and condemned to be hanged at the gallows. When he was about to be executed, he asked for the usual privilege of a condemned prisoner to speak once what was in his mind. The king granted it, and faithful John began, I am innocent of any crime against you, and have always served you faithfully. Then he told what he had heard the crowd saying at sea, and how he had done all these things to save his master's life. Then the king cried, Pardon, pardon my faithful friend, you are innocent. But at the last word he had spoken, John had fallen down, turned into stone. After this there was great sorrow and lamentation in the palace, and they had the statue raised and taken to their chamber, and placed near the bed, and often the king looked at it and said, Ah, my trusty John, could I but bring you back to life again? Some time afterwards, to their great joy, twins were born to them, two healthy boys. One day the queen was at church, and the king was at home playing with his children when he looked up at the statue and said, Ah, my poor faithful John, what would I not do to bring you back to life? To his surprise the statue answered him and said, If you will sacrifice what is dearest to you, you can restore my life to me. I will do anything in the world for you, only tell me what, answered the king. Then the statue spoke again, cut off the heads of your children, and sprinkle me with their blood, and I will be restored to life. The poor king was horrified when he heard this, for how could he do such an awful deed as to kill his own children? But he thought of all John had done for him, and how much he had sacrificed, and without flinching, he drew his sword to cut off their heads. But as he was about to kill the little princess, faithful John became alive again, crying, Stop, stop, my master, your faith in me is rewarded, and I am free. The king was now as happy as he could be, and he thought to give his wife a pleasant surprise. So when he heard her coming, he hid faithful John and the twins in a cupboard. When she came in, he asked her if she had prayed for all her friends. Yes, she answered, but I have been thinking of poor John who has passed our prayers. Then the king said, We can restore him to life again, but we must sacrifice both our sons. The queen turned very pale at this and nearly fainted, but she thought of how it was their fault that John had suffered, and she said bravely that if it was to restore him to life, it must be done. The king was overjoyed to find that she thought as he did, and he threw open the cupboard door and disclosed not only the twins, but faithful John also. Then they all rejoiced and were happy together to the end of their days. End of Faithful John, The King's Servant Read by Lorsch Rolander Recording by Haishvind Jain The Fairy Ring Edited by Kate Douglas Wiggins And Nora Ackiberg-Smith Story 54 Spindle, Shuttle and Needle Once upon a time, there lived a girl who lost her father and mother when she was quite a tiny child. Her godmother lived all alone in a little cottage at the far of the village. And there she earned her living by spinning, weaving and swinging. The old woman took the little orphan home with her and brought her up in good, pious, industrious habits. When a girl was 15 years old, her godmother fell ill. In calling the child to her bedside, she said, My daughter, I feel that my end is near. I leave you my cottage, which will at least filter you. And also my spindle, my Vibhu's shuttle and my needle, with which to earn your bread. Then she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her and added mine and be good. And then all will go well with you. That she closed her eyes for the last time. And when she was carried to her grave, the girl walked behind her coffin, weeping bitterly and paid her all the last honors. After this, the girl lived all alone in the little cottage. She walked hard, spinning, veering and swinging. And her old godmother's blessing seemed to prosper all she did. The flag seemed to spread and increase. And when she wove a carpet or a piece of linen or made a shirt, she was sure to find a customer who paid her well. So that not only did she feel not want herself, but she was able to help those who did. Now it happened that about this time the king's son was making a tour through the entire country to look out for bride. He could not marry a poor woman and he did not wish for a rich one. She shall be my wife, said he, who is at once the poorest and the richest. When he reached the village where the girl lived, he inquired who was the richest and who the poorest woman in it. The richest was named first, the poorest he was told, was a young girl who lived alone in a little cottage at the far end of the village. The rich girl sat at her door dressed in all her best clothes. And when the king's son came near, she caught up, went to meet her, and made him a low courtesy. He looked well at her, said nothing but rude and fathered. When he reached the poor girl's house, he did not find her at the door, for she was at work in her room. The prince reigned in his house, looked in at the window through which the sun was shining brightly and saw the girl sitting at her wheel, busily spinning away. She looked up and when she saw the king's son gazing in at her, she blushed red all over, cast down her eyes and spun on, whether the thread was quite as even as usual. I really cannot say where she went on spinning till the king's son had ridden off. Then she stepped to the window and opened the lattice, saying, the room is so hot. But she looked after him as long as she could see the white clothes of his hat, and she sat down to her work once more in spin-on. As she did so, an old saying, which she had often heard her godmother repeat while at work, came into her head. And she began to sing, Spindle, spindle, go and see if a love will come to me. Love when behold, the spindle leaped from her hand and rushed out of the room, and when she had sufficiently recovered from her surprise to look after it, she saw it dancing merrily through the fields, dragging a long golden thread after it, and soon it was lost to sight. The girl, having lost her spindle, took up the shuttle, and sitting herself at her loom began to weave. Meantime, the spindle danced on and on, and just as it had come to the end of the golden thread, it reached the king's son. What do I see? cried. The spindle seems to wish to point out the way to me. He turned his whole head and rode back beside the golden thread. Meantime, the girl sat feeling insane. Shuttle, weave both web and roof, bring my love beneath my roof. The shuttle instantly escaped from her hand, and its one bound was out at the door. On the threshold, it began weaving the loveliest carpet that was ever seen. Roses and lilies bloomed on both sides, and in the center, a thicket seemed to grow with rabbits and hares running through it, staffs and fawns leaping through the branches, while on the topmost post, side birds of brilliant plumage, and so, life-side one almost expected to hear them sing. The shuttle flew from side to side, and the carpet seemed almost to grow of itself. As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to see you. She took her needle in sand, needle, needle, stitch away, make my chamber bright and gay. And the needle promptly slipped from her fingers and flew about the room like lightning. You'd have thought invisible spirits were at work. For in next to no time, the table and benches were covered with green clothes, the chairs with velvet, the elegant silk curtains hung before the windows. The needle had barely put in his last stitch, when the girl, glancing at the window, spied the white-plumed hat of the king's son, who was being laid back by the spindle with a golden thread. He dismounted and walked over the carpet into the house, and when he entered the room, they stood the girl, blushing like any rose. You are the poorest, and yet the richest. Said he, come with me, you shall be my bride. She said nothing, but she held out her hand. Then he kissed her and laid her out, lifted her on his horse, and took her to his royal palace, where the wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings. The spindle, the shuttle, and the needle were carefully placed in the treasury, and were always held in the very highest honor, end of spindle, shuttle, and the needle. There was once upon a time a lark who was the Tsar among the birds, and he took unto himself as his Tsaritsa a little shrew mouse. They had a field all to themselves which they sowed their wheat, and when the wheat grew up they divided it between them. When they found that there was one grain over the mouse said, Let me have it, but the lark said, No, let me have it. What's to be done, thought they. They would have liked to take counsel of some one, but they had no parents or kinsmen, nobody at all to whom they could go and ask advice in the matter. At last the mouse said, At any rate, let me have the first nibble. The lark Tsar agreed to this, but the little mouse fastened her teeth in it, and ran off into her hole with it, and there ate it all up. At this the lark Tsar was wroth, and collected all the birds of the air to make war upon the mouse Tsaritsa, but the Tsaritsa called together all the beasts to defend her, and so the war began. Whenever the beasts came rushing out of the wood to tear the birds to pieces, the birds flew up into the trees, but the birds kept in the air and hacked and pecked the beasts wherever they could. Thus they fought the whole day, and in the evening they lay down to rest. Now when the Tsaritsa looked around upon her forces, she saw that the ant was taking no part in the war. She immediately went and commanded the ant to be there by evening, and when the ant came the Tsaritsa ordered her to climb up the trees with her kinsmen, and bite off the feathers around the birds' wings. Next day, when there was light enough to see by, the mouse Tsaritsa cried, Up, up, my warriors! Thereupon the birds also rose up and immediately fell to the ground where the beasts tore them to bits. So the Tsaritsa overcame the Tsar, but there was one eagle who saw there was something wrong, so he did not try to fly, but remained sitting on the tree, and aloh there came an archer along that way, and seeing the eagle on the tree he took aim at it, but the eagle besought him and said, Do not kill me, and I'll be of great service to thee. The archer aimed a second time, but the eagle besought him still more, and said, Take me down, rather, and keep me, and thou shalt see that it will be to thy advantage. The archer, however, took aim a third time, but the eagle began to beg of him most piteously, Nay, kill me not, but take me home with thee, and thou shalt see what great advantage it will be to thee. The archer believed the bird. He climbed up the tree, took the eagle down, and carried it home. Then the eagle said to him, Put me in a hut, and feed me with flesh till my wings have grown again. Now this archer had two cows and a steer, and he at once killed and cut up one of the cows for the eagle. The eagle fed upon this cow for a full year, and then he said to the archer, Let me go, that I may fly. I see that my wings have already grown again. Then the archer let him loose from the hut. The eagle flew around and around. He flew about for half a day, and then he returned to the archer, and said, I feel I have but little strength in me. Slay me another cow. And the archer obeyed him, and slew the second cow, and the eagle lived upon that for yet another year. Again the eagle flew around and around in the air. He flew around and about the whole day till evening, when he returned to the archer, and said, I am stronger than I was, but I have still but little strength in me. Slay me the steer also. Then the man thought to himself, What shall I do? Shall I slay it, or shall I not slay it? At last he said, Well, I have sacrificed more than this before, so let this go too. And he took the steer, and slaughtered it for the eagle. Then the eagle lived upon this for another whole year longer, and after that he took to flight, and flew high up right to the very clouds. Then he flew down again to the man, and said to him, I thank thee, brother, for that thou hast been the saving of me. Come now and sit upon me. Nay, but, said the man, What if some evil befall me? Sit on me, I say, cried the eagle. So the archer sat down upon the bird. Then the eagle bore him nearly as high as the big clouds, and then let him fall. Down plumped the man, but the eagle did not let him fall to the earth, but swiftly flew beneath him, and upheld him, and said to him, How dost thou feel now? I feel, said the man, as if I had no life in me. Then the eagle replied, That was just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the first time. Then he said to him, Sit on my back again. The man did not want to sit on him, but what could he do? Sit he must. Then the eagle flew with him quite as high as the big clouds, and shook him off, and down he fell, head long, till he was about two fathoms from the ground, when the bird again flew beneath him, and held him up. Again the eagle asked him, How dost thou feel? And the man replied, I feel just as if all my bones were already broken to bits. That is just how I felt when thou didst take aim at me the second time, replied the eagle. But now sit on my back once more. The man did so, and the eagle flew with him as high as the small, fleecy clouds, and then he shook him off, and down he fell, head long. But when he was but a hand's breath from the earth, the eagle again flew beneath him, and held him up, and said to him, How dost thou feel now? And he replied, I feel as if I no longer belong to this world. That is just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the third time, replied the eagle. But now continued the bird. Thou art guilty no more. We are quits. I owe thee not, and thou oweest not to me. So sit upon my back again, and I'll take thee to my master. They flew on and on. They flew till they came to the eagle's uncle, and the eagle said to the archer, Go to my house, and when they ask thee, Hast thou not seen our poor child? Reply, Give me the magic egg, and I'll bring him before your eyes. So he went to the house, and there they said to him, Hast thou heard of our poor child with thine ears, or seen him with thine eyes? And hast thou come hither willingly or unwillingly? And he answered, I have come hither willingly. Then they asked, Hast thou smelt out anything of our poor youngster? For it is three years now since he went to the wars, and there is neither sight nor sound of him more. And he answered, Give me the magic egg, and I'll bring him straight way for your eyes. Then they replied, Twer better we never saw him, than that we should give thee the magic egg. Then he went back to the eagle, and said to him, They said, Twer better we never saw him, than that we should give thee the magic egg. Then the eagle answered, Let us fly on farther. They flew on and on till they came to the eagle's brother, and the archer said just the same to him as he had said to the eagle's uncle, and still he didn't get the egg. Then they flew to the eagle's father, and the eagle said to him, Go up to the hut, and if they ask for me, Say that thou hast seen me, and will bring me before their eyes. So he went up to the hut, and they said to him, O Sarovitch, We hear thee with our ears, and see thee with our eyes, But hast thou come hither of thine own free will, or by the will of another? And the archer answered, I have come hither of my own free will. Then they asked him, Hast thou seen our son? Low these four years we have not had news of him. He went off to the wars, and perchance he has been slain there. And he answered them, I have seen him, and if thou wilt give me the magic egg, I will bring him before your eyes. And the eagle's father said to him, What good will such a thing do thee? We had better give thee the lucky penny. But he answered, I don't want the lucky penny. Give me the magic egg. Come hither then, said he, and thou shalt have it. So he went into the hut. Then the eagle's father rejoiced, and gave him the egg, and said to him, Take heed, thou dost not break it anywhere on the road, and when thou gettest home, hedge it around, and build a strong fence about it, and it will do thee good. So he went homeward. He went on and on, till a great thirst came upon him. So he stopped at the first spring he came to, and as he stooped to drink, he stumbled, and the magic egg was broken. Then he perceived that an ox had come out of the egg, and was rolling away. He gave chase to the ox, but whenever he was getting close to one side of it, the other side of it got farther away from him. Then the poor fellow cried, I shall do nothing with it myself, I see. At that moment an old she-dragon came up to him, and said, What wilt thou give me, O man, if I chase this ox back again into the egg for thee? And the archer replied, What can I give? The dragon said to him, Give me what thou hast at home without thy will and wit. Done, said the archer. Then the dragon chased the ox nicely into the egg again, patched it up prettily, and gave it into the man's hand. Then the archer went home, and when he got home, he found a son had been born to him there, and his son said to him, Why did thou give me to the old she-dragon, dad? But never mind, all managed to live in spite of her. Then the father was very grieved for a time, but what could he do? Now the name of this son was Ivan. So Ivan lost no time in going to the dragon, and the dragon said to him, Go to my house, and do me three tasks, and if thou dost them not, I'll devour thee. Now around the dragon's house was a large meadow stretching as far as the eye could reach, and the dragon said to him, Thou must in a single night weed out this field and sow wheat in it, and reap the wheat and store it, all in this very night, and thou must bake me a roll out of this self-same wheat, and the roll must be lying ready for me on my table in the morning. Then Ivan went and leaned over the fence, and his heart within him was sore troubled. Now near to him there was a post, and on this post was the dragon's starvelling daughter. So when he came thither and fell a-weeping, she asked him, Wherefore dost thou weep? And he said, How can I help weeping? The dragon has bidden me do something I can never, never do, and what is more she has bidden me do it in a single night. What is it, pray? asked the dragon's daughter. Then he told her. Not every bush bears a berry, cried she. Promise take me to wife, and I'll do all she has bidden thee do. He promised, and then she said to him again, Now go and lie down, but see that thou art up early in the morning to bring her her roll. Then she went to the field, and before one could whistle she had cleaned it of weeds, and harrowed it, and sewn it with wheat, and by dawn she had reaped the wheat and cooked the roll, and brought it to him, and said, Now take it to her hut, and put it on her table. Then the old she-dragon awoke, and came to the door, and was amazed at the side of the field, which was now all stubble, for the corn had been cut. Then she said to Ivan, Yes, thou hast done the work well, but now see that thou doest my second task. Then she gave him her second command. Dig up that mountain yonder, and let the neaper flow past the side of it, and there build a storehouse, and in the storehouse stack the wheat that thou hast reaped, and sell this wheat to the merchant-barks that sail by, and everything must be done by the time I get up early next morning. Then again he went to the fence and wept, and the maiden said to him, Why dost thou weep? And he told her all that the she-dragon had bidden him do. There are lots of bushes, but where are the berries? Go and lie down, and I'll do it all for thee. Then she whistled, and the mountain was leveled, and the neaper flowed over the side of it, and round about the neaper, storehouses rose up, and then she came and woke him that he might go and sell the wheat to the merchant-barks that sailed by that way, and when the she-dragon rose up early in the morning she was amazed to see that everything had been done, which she had commanded him. Then she gave him her third command. This night thou must catch the golden hair, and bring it to me by the morning light. Again he went to the fence and fell a weeping, and the girl asked him, Why art thou weeping? He said to her, She has ordered me to catch her the golden hair. O, O, cried the she-dragon's daughter, The berries are ripening now, Only her father knows how to catch such a hair as that. Nevertheless I'll go to a rocky place I know of, and there perchance we shall be able to catch it. So they went to this rocky place together, and she said to him, Stand over that hole, I'll go in and chase him out of the hole, And thou catch him as he comes out, But mind, whatever comes out of the hole, Sees it, for it will be the golden hair. So she went and began beating up, And all at once out came a snake, and hissed, and he let it go. Then she came out of the hole, and said to him, What, has nothing come out? Well, said he, Only a snake, and I was afraid it would bite me, so I let it go. What hast thou done? she said, That was the very hair itself. Look now, said she, I'll go in again, and if any one comes out, And tells you that the golden hair is not here, Don't believe it, but hold him fast. So she crept into the hole again, And began to beat for a game, And out came an old woman who said to the youth, What a thou poking about here for? And he said to her, For the golden hair. She said to him, It is not here, for this is a snake's hole, And when she had said this she went away. Presently the girl also came out, And said to him, What, has thou not got the hair? Did nothing come out then? No, said he, nothing but an old woman Who asked me what I was seeking, And I told her the golden hair, And she said, It is not here, so I let her go. Then the girl replied, Why didst thou not lay hold of her, For she was the very golden hair itself, And now thou never wilt catch it, Unless I turn myself into a hair, And thou take and lay me on the table, And give me into my mother's, The she-dragon's hands, And go away, for if she find out all about it She will tear the pair of us to pieces. So she changed herself into a hair, And he took and laid her on the table, And said to the she-dragon, There is thy hair for thee, And now let me go away. She said to him, Very well, be off. Then he set off running, And he ran and ran as hard as he could. Soon after the old she-dragon discovered that it was not the golden hair, But her own daughter, So she set about chasing after them, And destroying them both, For the daughter had made haste In the meantime to join Ivan. But as the she-dragon couldn't run herself, She sent her husband, And he began chasing them, And they knew he was coming, For they felt the earth trembling beneath his tread. Then the dragon's daughter said to Ivan, I hear him running after us, I'll turn myself into standing wheat, And thee into an old man guarding me, And if he ask thee, Has thou seen a lad, And a lass passed by this way, Say to him, Yes, they passed by this way, While I was sowing this wheat. A little while afterwards the she-dragon's husband came flying up. Have a lad and a lass passed by this way, said he? Yes, replied the old man. They have. Was it long ago? asked the she-dragon's husband. It was while this wheat was being sown, replied the old man. Oh! thought the serpent. This wheat is ready for the sickle. They couldn't have been this way yesterday. So he turned back. Then the she-dragon's daughter turned herself back into a maiden, And the old man into a youth, And off they set again. But the dragon returned home, And the she-dragon asked him, What? Has thou not caught them or met them on the road? Met them? No, said he. I did indeed pass on the road some standing wheat and an old man watching it. At I asked the old man if he had seen a lad and a lass pass by that way, And he said, Yes, while this wheat was being sown, But the wheat was quite ripe for the sickle, So I knew it was a long while ago, And turned back. Why didst thou not tear that old man and the wheat pieces? cried the she-dragon. It was they. Be off after them again, And mind, this time, tear them to pieces without fail. So the dragon set off after them again, And they heard him coming from afar, For the earth trembled beneath him. So the damsel said to Ivan, He is coming again. I hear him. Now I'll change myself into a monastery, So old that it will be almost falling to pieces, And I'll change thee into an old black monk at the gate, And when he comes up and asks, Hast thou seen a lad and a lass pass this way? Say to him, Yes, they passed by this way When this monastery was being built. Soon afterwards the dragon came flying past And asked the monk, Hast thou seen a lad and a lass pass by this way? Yes, he replied. I saw them what time The holy father began to build this monastery. The dragon thought to himself, That was not yesterday. This monastery has stood a hundred years If it has stood a day, And won't stand much longer either. And with that he turned him back. When he got home he said to the she-dragon his wife, I met a black monk who serves in a monastery And I asked him about them, And he told me that a lad and a lass Had run past that way When the monastery was being built. But that was not yesterday, For the monastery is a hundred years old At the very least. Why didst thou not tear the black monk To pieces and pull down the monastery, For twas they? But I see I must go after them myself, Thou art no good at all. So off she set and ran and ran, And they knew she was coming, For the earth quaked and yawned beneath her. Then the damsel said to Ivan, I fear me, tis all over, For she is coming herself. Look now, I'll change thee into a stream And myself into a fish perch. Immediately after the she-dragon came up And said to the perch, Oh, oh, so thou wouldst run away from me, eh? Then she turned herself into a pike And began chasing the perch. But every time she drew near to it The perch turned its prickly fins toward her So that she could not catch hold of it. So she kept on chasing it and chasing it, But finding she could not catch it, She tried to drink up the stream Till she so much of it that she burst. Then the maiden who had become a fish Said to the youth who had become a river. Now that we are alive and not dead, Go back to thy lord father and thy father's house And see them and kiss them all Except the daughter of thy uncle, For if thou kiss that damsel, Thou wilt forget me, And I shall go to the land of nowhere. So he went home and greeted them all, And as he did so he thought to himself, Why should I not greet my uncle's daughter, Like the rest of them? Why, they'll think me a mere pagan if I don't. So he kissed her, and the moment he did so He forgot all about the girl who had saved him. So he remained there half a year, And then bethought him of taking to himself a wife. So they betrothed him to a very pretty girl, And he accepted her and forgot all about the other girl, Who had saved him from the dragon, The one who herself was the she-dragon's daughter. Now the evening before the wedding They heard a young damsel crying shisky in the streets. They called to the young damsel to go away, Or say who she was, for nobody knew her. But the damsel answered never a word, But began to knead more cakes, And make a cock-dove and a hen-dove Out of the dough, and put them down on the ground, And they became alive. And then the hen-dove said to the cock-dove, Has thou forgotten how I cleared the field for thee, And sowed it with wheat? And thou madest a roll from the corn, Which thou gaveest to the she-dragon? But the cock-dove answered, Forgotten, forgotten. Then she said to him again, And hast thou forgotten how I dug away the mountain for thee, And let the neaper flow by it, That the merchant barks might come to thy storehouses, And that thou mightst sell thy wheat to the merchant barks? But the cock-dove replied, Forgotten, forgotten. Then the hen-dove said to him again, And hast thou forgotten how we too went together In search of the golden hare? Hast thou forgotten me then altogether? And the cock-dove answered again, Forgotten, forgotten. Then the good youth Ivan bethought him who this damsel was That had made the doves, And he took her to his arms, And made her his wife, And they lived happily ever afterwards. End of The Magic Egg Recording by Joelle Peebles All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ashwin Jain The Favoury Ring edited by Kate Douglas-Viggin and Nora Archibald-Smith Story 56 The Sparrow and the Bush His sparrow once flew down upon a bush and said, Little Bush gave good little sparrow a swing. I want, said the little bush, Then the sparrow was angry, And went to the goat and said, Good, good, little bush, Bush once gave good little sparrow a swing. I want, said the goat, Then the sparrow went to the wolf and said, Wolf, wolf, eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, Bush won't give little sparrow a swing. I want, said the wolf, Then the sparrow went to the people and said, Good people, kill wolf, Wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, Bush won't give little sparrow a swing. We won't, said the people, Then the sparrow went to the titers, Titers, titers, Slay people, People won't kill wolf, Wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, Bush won't give little sparrow a swing. But the titers said, We won't slay the people, And the people said, We won't kill the wolf, And the wolf said, I won't eat the goat, And the goat said, I won't nibble bush, And the bush said, I won't give the goat to sparrow a swing. Go, said the bush, To the fire, For the titers slay the people, And the people won't kill wolf, And the wolf won't eat goat, And the goat won't nibble bush, And the bush won't give little sparrow a swing. But the fire also said, I won't, They were all alike, Go to the water, Said he, So the sparrow went to the water and said, Come water, Quench fire, Fire won't burn titers, Titers won't slay people, People won't kill wolf, And wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, And bush won't give little sparrow a swing. But the water said, I won't, So the sparrow went to the ox and said, Ox, ox, Bring water, Water won't quench fire, Fire, We want titers, Titers won't slay people, People won't kill wolf, Wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, Bush won't give little sparrow a swing. I won't, Said the ox, Then the sparrow went to the polyaxe and said, Polyax, Polyax, Strike ox, Ox won't drink water, Water won't quench fire, Fire won't burn titers, Titers won't slay people, People won't kill wolf, Wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, Bush won't give little sparrow a swing. I won't, Said the polyax, So the sparrow went to the worms and said, Worms, Worms, No polyaxe, Polyax won't strike ox, Ox won't bring water, Water won't quench fire, Fire won't burn titers, Titers won't slay people, People won't kill wolf, Wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, Bush won't give little sparrow a swing. We won't, Said the worms, When the sparrow went to the hen and said, Hen, Hen, Bec worms, Worms won't know of polyaxe, Polyax won't strike ox, Ox won't drink water, Water won't quench fire, Fire won't burn titers, Titers won't slay people, People won't kill wolf, Wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, And bush won't give little sparrow a swing. I won't, Said the hen, But goat to the sparrow hawk, He ought to give the first push, Why is he called a pusher? So the sparrow went to the sparrow hawk and said, Come pusher, Sees hen, Hen won't pick worms, Worms won't know of polyaxe, Polyax won't strike ox, Ox won't drink water, Water won't quench fire, Fire won't burn titers, Titers won't slay people, People won't kill wolf, Wolf won't eat goat, Goat won't nibble bush, And bush won't give sparrow a swing. Then the sparrow hawk began to seize the hen, The hen began to pick the worms, The worms began to know the polyaxe, The polyaxe began to hit the ox, The ox began to drink the water, The water began to quench the fire, The fire then began to burn the titers, The titers began to slay people, The people began to kill the wolf, The wolf began to eat the goat, The goat began to nibble the bush, And the bush cried out, Swing away, swing away, swing, Little daddy sparrow, Have your thing, Ain't no sparrow and a bush. Recording by Haishvendian Story 57 of the Fairy Ring This is a LibriVox recording, All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Fairy Ring, edited by Kate Douglas-Wiggin and Nora Archibald-Smith Story 57, The Iron Wolf There was once upon a time a parson who had a servant, and when this servant had served him faithfully for twelve years and upward, he came to the parson and said, Let us now settle our accounts, master, and pay me what thou o'est me. I have now served long enough, and would faint have a little place in the wide world all to myself. Good, said the parson, I'll tell thee now what wage I'll give thee for thy faithful service. I'll give thee this egg. Take it home, and when thou getest there, make to thyself a cattle-pan, and make it strong. Then break the egg in the middle of thy cattle-pan, and thou shalt see something. But whatever thou doest, don't break it on thy way home, or all thy luck will leave thee. So the servant departed on his homeward way. He went on and on, and at last he thought to himself, Come now, I'll see what is inside this egg of mine. So he broke it, and out of it came all sorts of cattle such in such numbers that the open step became like a fair. The servant stood there in amazement, and he thought to himself, However, in this world shall I be able to drive all these cattle back again. He had scarcely uttered the word, when the iron-wolf came running up, and said to him, I'll collect and drive back all these cattle back into the egg again, and I'll patch the egg up, so that it will become quite whole. But in return for that continued the iron-wolf. Whenever thou dost sit down on the bridal bench, I'll come and eat thee. Well, thought the servant to himself, A lot of things may happen before I sit down on the bridal bench and he comes to eat me, and in the meantime I shall get all these cattle. Agreed then, said he. So the iron-wolf immediately collected all the cattle, and drove them back into the egg, and patched up the egg and made it whole just as it was before. The servant went home to the village where he lived, made him a cattle-pan stronger than strong, went inside it, and broke the egg, and immediately the cattle-pan was as full of cattle as it could hold. Then he took to farming and cattle-breeding, and he became so rich that in the whole wide world there was none richer than he. He kept to himself, and his goods increased and multiplied exceedingly. The only thing wanting to his happiness was a wife, but a wife he was afraid to take. Now near to where he lived was a general who had a lovely daughter, and this daughter fell in love with the rich man. So the general went and said to him, Come, why don't you marry? I'll give you my daughter and a lot of money with her. How is it possible for me to marry? replied the man. As soon as I ever sit down on the bridal bench, the iron-wolf will come and eat me up. And he told the general all that had happened. Oh, nonsense, said the general. Don't be afraid. I have a mighty host, and when the time comes for you to sit down on the bridal bench, we'll surround your house with three strong rows of soldiers, and they won't let the iron-wolf get at you, I can tell you. So they talked the matter over till he let himself be persuaded, and then they began to make great preparations for the bridal banquet. Everything went off exceedingly well, and they made merry till the time came when the bride and the bride-room were to sit down together on the bridal bench. Then the general placed his man in three strong rows all around the house so as not to let the iron-wolf get in. And no sooner had the young people sit down upon the bridal bench than, sure enough, the iron-wolf came running up. He saw the host standing around the house in three strong rows, but through all three rows he leaped and made straight for the house. But the man, as soon as he saw the iron-wolf, leaped out of the window, mounted his horse, and galloped off with the wolf after him. Away and away he galloped, and after him came the wolf. But try as it would, it could not catch him up anyhow. At last, toward evening, the man stopped and looked about him and saw that he was in a lone forest and before him stood a hut. He went up to this hut and saw an old man and an old woman sitting in front of it and said to them, Would you let me rest a little while with you, good people? By your means, they said. There is one thing, however, good people, said he, Don't let the iron-wolf catch me while I'm resting with you. Have no fear of that, replied the old couple. We have a dog called Chetko, who can hear a wolf coming a mile off, and he'll be sure to let us know. So he laid him down to sleep and was just dropping off when Chetko began to bark. Then the old people awoke him and said, Be off, be off, for the iron-wolf is coming. And they gave him the dog and a wheat and half-cake as provisioned by the way. So he went on and on and the dog followed after him till it began to grow dark and then he perceived another hut in another forest. He went up to that hut and in front of it was sitting an old man and an old woman. He asked them for a night's lodging. Only, said he, Take care that the iron-wolf doesn't catch me. Have no fear of that, said they. We have a dog here called Vasco, who can hear a wolf nine miles off. So he laid him down and slept. Just before dawn, Vasco began to bark. Immediately they awoke him. Run! cried they. The iron-wolf is coming. And they gave him the dog and a barley half-cake as provisioned by the way. So he took the half-cake, set him on his horse, and off he went, and his two dogs followed after him. He went on and on. On and on he went till evening, when again he stopped and looked about him. And he saw that he was in another forest and another little hut stood before him. He went into the hut and there was sitting an old man and an old woman. Will you let me pass the night here, good people? said he. Only take care that the iron-wolf does not get hold of me. Have no fear, said they. We have a dog called Barry, who can hear a wolf coming twelve miles off. He'll let us know. So he laid down to sleep, and early in the morning Barry let them know that the iron-wolf was drawing nigh. Immediately they awoke him. It is high time for you to be off, said they. Then they gave him the dog and a buckwheat half-cake as provisioned by the way. He took the half-cake, set him on his horse, and off he went. So now he had three dogs and they all three followed him. He went on and on, and toward evening he found himself in front of another hut. He went into it, and there was no body there. He went and lay down, and his dogs lay down also. Chetko on the threshold of the room door, Vasco at the threshold of the house door, and Barry at the threshold of the outer gate. Presently the iron-wolf came trotting up. Immediately Chetko gave the alarm, Vasco nailed him to the earth, and Barry tore him to pieces. Then the man gathered his faithful dogs around him, mounted his horse, and went back to his home. End of the Iron Wolf, recording by Eswa in Belgium in May 2008.