 The Lady of the Fountain, from the Lilac Fairy Book 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 Ann Keela The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, Editor The Lady of the Fountain A Tale from Wales In the centre of the Great Hall, in the castle of Caelion upon us, King Arthur sat on a seat of green rushes over which was thrown a covering of flame-coloured silk, and a cushion of red satin lay under his elbow. With him were his knights Owen and Kynan and Kai, while at the far end close to the window were Guinevere the Queen and her maidens embroidering white garments with strange devices of gold. I am weary, said Arthur, and till my food is prepared I would faint sleep. You yourselves can tell each other tales, and Kai will fetch you from the kitchen a flag of mean and some meat. And when they had eaten and drunk, Kynan, the oldest among them, began his story. I was the only son of my father and mother, and much store they set by me. But I was not content to stay at home with them, for I thought no deed in all the world was too mighty for me. None could hold me back, and after I had won many adventures in my own land I bade farewell to my parents and set out to see the world. Over mountains, through deserts, across rivers I went, till I reached a fair valley full of trees, with a path running by the side of a stream. I walked along that path all day, and in the evening I came to a castle in front of which stood two youths clothed in yellow, each grasping an ivory bow, with arrows made of the bones of the whale, and winged with peacock's feathers. By their sides hung golden daggers with hilts of the bone of the whale. Near these young men was a richly dressed man, who turned and went with me towards the castle, where all the dwellers were gathered in the hall. In one window I beheld four and twenty damsels, and the least fair of them was fairer than Guinevere at her fairest. Some took my horse and others unbuckled my armor, and washed it with my sword and spear till it all shone like silver. Then I washed myself and put on a vest and doublet which they brought me, and I and the man that entered with me sat down before a table of silver, and a goodlier feast I never had. All this time neither the man nor the damsels had spoken one word. But when our dinner was half over and my hunger was stilled, the man began to ask who I was. Then I told him my name and my father's name, and why I had come there, for indeed I had grown weary of gaining the mastery over all men at home, and sought if perchance there was one who could gain the mastery over me. And at this the man smiled and answered, if I did not hear to distress thee too much, I would show thee what thou seekest. His words made me sorrowful and fearful of myself, which the man perceived and added, if thou meanest truly what thou sayest, and desirest earnestly to prove thy valor, and not to boast vainly that none can overcome thee, I have somewhat to show thee. But tonight thou must sleep in the castle. And in the morning see that thou rise early and follow the road upwards through the valley, until thou reachest a wood. In the wood is a path branching to the right. Go along this path until thou comest to a space of grass with a mound in the middle of it. On the top of the mound stands a black man, larger than any two white men. His eye is in the center of his forehead, and he has only one foot. He carries a club of iron, and two white men could hardly lift it. Around him graced a thousand beasts, all of different kinds, for he is the guardian of that wood, and it is he who will tell thee which way to go in order to find the adventure thou art in quest of. So spake the man, and long did that night seem to me. And before dawn I rose and put on my armor, and mounted my horse, and rode on till I reached the grassy space of which he had told me. There was the black man on top of the mound, as he had said, and in truth he was mightier in all ways than I had thought him to be. As for the club, Kai, it would have been a burden for four of our warriors. He waited for me to speak, and I asked him what power he held over the beasts that thronged so close about him. I will show thee, little man, he answered, and with his club he struck a stag on the head till he braided loudly, and at his brain the animals came running, numerous as the stars in the sky, so that scarce was I able to stand among them. Serpents were there also, and dragons, and beasts of strange shapes, with horns in places where I never saw horns before. And the black man only looked at them and bade them go and feed, and they bade themselves before him as vassals before their lord. Now, little man, I have answered thy question and showed thee my power, said he. Is there anything else thou wouldst know? Then I inquired of him my way, but he grew angry, and as I perceived, would feign have hindered me, but at the last after I told him who I was his anger passed from him. Take that path, said he, that leads to the head of this grassy glade, and go up the wood till thou reaches the top, there thou wilt find an open space, and in the midst of it a tall tree. Under the tree is a fountain, and by the fountain a marble slab, and on the slab a bowl of silver was a silver chain. Dip the bowl in the fountain, and throw the water on the slab, and thou wilt hear a might peal of thunder, till heaven and earth seemed trembling with the noise. After the thunder will come hail so fierce that scarcely can't thou injure it and live, for the hail stones are both large and thick. Then the sun will shine again, but every leaf of the tree will be lying on the ground. Next a flood of birds will come and a light on the tree, and never did thou hear a strain so sweet as that which they will sing. And at the moment in which their song sounds sweetest, thou wilt hear a murmuring and complaining coming towards thee along the valley, and thou wilt see a night in black velvet bestriding a black horse, burying a lance with a long black penion. And he will spur his steed so as to fight thee, if thou turnest to flee he will overtake thee, and if thou abidest where thou art he will unhorse thee, and if thou dost not find trouble in that adventure thou needest not to seek it during the rest of thy life. So I bade the black man farewell, and took my way to the top of the wood, and there I found everything just as I had been told. I went up to the tree beneath which stood the fountain, and filling the silver bowl with water emptied it on the marble slab. Thereupon the thunder came, louder by far than I had expected to hear it, and after the thunder came the shower, but heavier by far than I had expected to feel it, for, of a truth I tell thee, Kai, not one of those hailstones would be stopped by skin or by flesh till it had reached the bone. I turned my horse's flank towards the shower, and, bending upon his neck, held my shield so that it might cover his head in my own. When the hail had passed, I looked on the tree, and not a single leaf was left on it, and the sky was blue and the sun shining. While on the branches were perched birds of every kind, who sang a song sweeter than any that has come to my ears, either before or since. Thus, Kai, I stood listening to the birds. When low a murmuring voice approached me, saying, O night, what has brought thee hither? What evil have I done to thee that thou shouldst do so much to me, for in all my lands neither man nor beast that met that shower has escaped alive? Then, from the valley appeared the night, on the black horse grasping the lance with the black penin. Straightway we charged each other, and though I fought my best, he soon overcame me, and I was thrown to the ground, while the night seized the bridle of my horse and rode away with it, leaving me where I was without even dispoiling me of my armor. Sadly did I go down the hill again, and when I reached the glade where the black man was, I confessed to thee Kai, it was a marvel that I did not melt into a liquid pool, so great was my shame. That night I slept at the castle where I had been before, and I was bathed and feasted, and none asked me how I had fared. The next morning when I arose I found a bay horse saddled for me, and girdling on my armor I returned to my own court. The horse is still in the stable, and I would not part with it for any in Britain. But of a truth Kai, no man ever confessed an adventure so much to his own dishonor, and strange indeed it seems that none other man have I ever met that knew of the black man and the night in the shower. Would it not be well, said Owen, to go and discover the place? By the hand of my friend, answered Kai, often dost thou utter that with thy tongue, which thou wouldst not make good with thy deeds. In truth, said Gwenn of Ye the Queen, who had listened to the tale, thou werest better hanged, Kai, than use such speech towards a man like Owen. I meant nothing, lady, replied Kai. Thy praise of Owen is not greater than mine. And as he spoke, Arthur awoke, and asked if he had not slept for a little. Yes, Lord, said Owen, certainly thou hast slept. Is it time for us to go to meet? It is, Lord, answered Owen. Then the horn for washing themselves was sounded, and after that the King and his household sat down to eat, and when they had finished, Owen left them, and made ready his horse and his arms. With the first rays of the sun he set forth, and travelled through deserts, and over mountains, and across rivers, and all but fell him, which had befallen Kynan, till he stood under the leafless tree listening to the song of the birds. Then he heard the voice, and, turning to look, found the night galloping to meet him. Fiercely they fought, till their lances were broken, and then they drew their swords, and a blow from Owen cut through the night's helmet and pierced his skull. Feeling himself wounded unto death, the night fled, and Owen pursued him till they came to a splendid castle. Here the night dashed across the bridge that spanned them out, and entered the gate, but as soon as he was safe inside the drawbridge was pulled up, and caught Owen's horse in the middle, so that half of him was inside and half out, and Owen could not dismount and knew not what to do. While he was in this sore plight, a little door in the castle gate opened, and he could see a street facing him, with tall houses. Then a maiden with curling hair of gold looked through the little door, and bade Owen open the gate. By my troth, cried Owen, I can no more open it from here than thou art able to set me free. Well, said she, I will do my best to release thee if thou wilt do as I tell thee. Take this ring, and put it on with the stone inside thy hand, and close thy fingers tight, for as long as thou dost conceal it, it will conceal thee. When the men inside have held counsel together, they will come to fetch thee to thy death, and they will be much grieved not to find thee. I will stand on the horse-block yonder, and thou canst see me though I cannot see thee. Therefore draw near and place thy hand on my shoulder, and follow me wheresoever I go. Upon that she went away from Owen, and when the men came out from the castle to seek him, and did not find him, they were sorely grieved, and they returned to the castle. Then Owen went to the maiden, and placed his hand on her shoulder, and she guided him to a large room, painted all over with rich colors, and adorned with images of gold. Here she gave him meat and drink, and water to wash with, and garments to wear, and he lay down upon a soft bed with scarlet and fur to cover him, and slept gladly. In the middle of the night he woke hearing a great outcry, and he jumped up and closed himself, and went into the hall where the maiden was standing. What is it? he asked, and she answered that the night who owned the castle was dead, and they were bearing his body to the church. Never had Owen beheld such vast crowds, and following the dead night was the most beautiful lady in the world, whose cry was louder than the shout of the men, or the brain of the trumpets. And Owen looked at her, and loved her. Who is she? he asked the damsel. That is my mistress, the Countess of the Fountain, and the wife of him who thou did slay yesterday. Verily, said Owen, she is the woman that I love most. She shall also love thee not a little, said the maiden. Then she left Owen, and after a while went into the chamber of her mistress, and spoke to her. But the Countess answered her nothing. What ill is thee, mistress? inquired the maiden. Why hast thou kept far from me and my grief looted? answered the Countess. And in her turn the damsel asked, Is it well for thee to mourn so bitterly for the dead, or for anyone that is gone from thee? There is no man in the world equal to him, replied the Countess, her cheeks growing red with anger. I would feign banish thee for such words. Be not angry, lady, said Lunad, but listen to my counsel. Thou knowest well that alone thou canst not preserve thy lands, therefore seek someone to help thee. And how can I do that? asked the Countess. I will tell thee, answered Lunad, unless thou canst defend the fountain all will be lost, and none can defend the fountain except a knight of King Arthur's court. There will I go to seek him, and woe betide me if I return without a warrior that can guard the fountain, as well as he who kept it before. Go, then, said the Countess, and make proof of that which thou hast promised. So Lunad set out, ready on a white palfrey, on pretensive journeying to King Arthur's court. But instead of doing that she hit herself for as many days as it would have taken her to go and come, and then she left her hiding place and went into the Countess. What news from the court? asked her mistress, when she had given Lunad a warm greeting. The best of news, answered the maiden, for I have gained the object of my mission. When will thou that I present thee the knight who has returned with me? Tomorrow at midday, said the Countess, and I will cause all the people in the town to come gather. Therefore, the next day at noon, Owen put on his coat of mail, and over it he wore a splendid mantle, while on his feet were leather shoes fastened with clasps of gold, and he followed Lunad to the chamber of her mistress. Right glad was the Countess to see him, but she looked closely at Owen and said, Lunad, this knight has scarcely the heir of a traveller. What harm is there in that, lady? answered Lunad. I am persuaded, said the Countess, that this man and no other chased the soul from the body of my lord. Had he not been stronger than thy lord? replied the damsel. He could not have taken his life and for that, and for all things that are past, there is no remedy. Leave me both of you, said the Countess, and I will take counsel. Then they went out. The next morning the Countess summoned her subjects to meet in the courtyard of the castle, and told them that now that her husband was dead, there would be none to defend their lands. So choose you which it shall be, she said. Either let one of you take me for a wife, or give me your consent to take a new lord for myself, that my lands be not without a master. At her words the chief men of the city withdrew to one corner, and took counsel together, and after a while the leader came forward, and said that they had decided that it was best for the peace and safety of all that she should choose a husband for herself. Thereupon Owen was summoned to her presence, and he accepted with joy the hand that she offered him, and they were married forthwith, and the men of the Earldom did him homage. From that day Owen defended the Fountain as the Earl before him had done, and every night that came by was overthrown by him, and his ransom divided among his barons. In this way three years passed, and no man in the world was more beloved than Owen. Now at the end of the three years it happened that Gualchmay the knight was with Arthur, and he perceived that the king was very sad. My lord, has anything befallen thee? he asked. Oh Gualchmay! I am grieved concerning Owen, whom I have lost these three years, and if a fourth year passes without him I can live no longer, and sure am I that the tale told by Kynan the son of Clydenow caused me to lose him. I will go myself with the men of my household to avenge him if he is dead, to free him, if he is in prison, to bring him back if he is alive. Then Arthur and three thousand men of his household set out in quest of Owen, and took Kynan for their guide. When Arthur reached the castle the youths were shooting in the same place, and the same yellow man was standing by, and as soon as he beheld Arthur he greeted him and invited him in, and they entered together. So vast was the castle that the king's three thousand men were no more account than if they had been twenty. At sunrise Arthur departed thence with Kynan for his guide, and reached the black men first, and afterwards the top of the wooded hill, with the fountain, and the bowl, and the tree. My lord, said Ky, let me throw the water on the slab, and receive the first adventure that may befall. Thou mayest do so, answered Arthur, and Ky through the water. Immediately all happened as before, the thunder, and the shower of hail which killed many of Arthur's men, the song of the birds, and the appearance of the black knight, and Ky met him and fought him, and was overthrown by him. Then the knight rode away, and Arthur and his men encamped where they stood. In the morning Ky again asked leave to meet the knight, and to try to overcome him, which Arthur granted, but once more he was unhorst, and the black knight's lance broke his helmet, and pierced the skin even to the bone, and humbled in spirit he returned to the camp. After this every one of the knights gave battle, but none came out victor, and at length there only remained Arthur himself and Guelchme. Oh, let me fight him, my lord, cried Guelchme, as he saw Arthur taking up his arms. Well fight then, answered Arthur, and Guelchme threw a robe over himself and his horse so that none knew him. All that day they fought, and neither was able to overthrow the other, and so it was on the next day. On the third day the combat was so fierce that they fell both to the ground at once, and fought on their feet, and at last the black knight gave his foe such a blow to his head that his helmet fell from his face. I did not know it was thee Guelchme, said the black knight. Take my sword and my arms. No, answered Guelchme. It is thou, Owen, who art the victor. Take thou my sword, but Owen would not. Give me your swords, said Arthur from behind them, for neither you has vanquished the other. And Owen turned and put his arms round Arthur's neck. The next day Arthur would have given orders to his men to make ready to go back once they came, but Owen stopped him. My lord, he said, during the three years that I have been absent from thee I have been preparing a banquet for thee, knowing full well that thou wouldst come to seek me. Terry with me, therefore, for a while, thou and thy men. So they rode to the castle of the Countess of the Fountain, and spent three months in resting and feasting. And when it was time for them to depart, Arthur besought the Countess that she would allow Owen to go with him to Britain for the space of three months. With a sore heart she granted permission, and so content was Owen to be once more with his old companions, that three years instead of three months passed away like a dream. One day, Owen sat at meet in the castle of Caroline upon us. When a damsel on a bay horse entered the hall, and riding straight up to the place where Owen sat, she stopped and drew the ring from off his hand. Thus shall be treated the trader and the faithless, said she, and turning her horse's head she rode out of the hall. At her words, Owen remembered all that he had forgotten, and sorrowful and ashamed, he went to his own chamber and made ready to depart. At the dawn he set out, but he did not go back to the castle, for his heart was heavy. But he wandered far into wild places till his body was weak and thin, and his hair was long. The wild beasts were his friends, and he slept by their side, but in the end he longed to see the face of a man again, and he came down into a valley, and fell asleep by a lake in the lands of a widowed countess. Now it was the time when the countess took her walk, attended by her maidens, and when they saw a man lying by the lake they shrank back in terror, for he lay so still that they thought he was dead. But when they had overcome their fright, they drew near him and touched him, and saw that there was life in him, whom the countess hastened to the castle, and brought from it a flask, full of precious ointment, and gave it to one of her maidens. Take that horse which is grazing yonder, she said, and a suit of men's garments, and place them near the man, and pour some of this ointment near his heart. If there is any life in him, that will bring him back. But if he moves, hide thyself in the bushes nearby and see what he does. The damsel took the flask and did her mistresses bidding. Soon the man began to move his arms, and then rose slowly to his feet. Creeping forward, step by step, he took the garments from off the saddle and put them on him, and painfully he mounted the horse. When he was seated, the damsel came forth and greeted him, and glad was he when he saw her, and inquired what castle that was before him. It belongs to a widowed countess, answered the maiden. Her husband left her two earldoms, but it is all that remains of her broad lands, for they have been torn from her by a young earl because she would not marry him. That is a pity, replied Owen. But he said no more, for he was too weak to talk much. Then the maiden guided him to the castle, and kindled a fire, and brought him food. And there he stayed and was tended for three months, till he was handsomer than ever he was. At noon one day Owen heard a sound of arms outside the castle, and asked of the maiden what it was. It is the earl of whom I spoke to thee, she answered, and was come with a great host to carry off my mistress. Beg of her to lend me a horse and armor, said Owen, and the maiden did so, but the countess laughed somewhat bitterly as she answered, nay, but I will give them to him, and such a horse and armor and weapons as he has never had yet, though I know not what use they will be to him, yet may have it will save them from falling into the hands of my enemies. The horse was brought out, and Owen rode forth with two pages behind him, and they saw the great host encamped before them. Where is the earl? said he, and the pages answered, in yonder troop where there are four yellow standards. Await me, said Owen, at the gate of the castle, and he cried a challenge to the lord who came to meet him. Hard did they fight, but Owen overthrew his enemy and drove him in front of the castle gate and into the hall. Behold, the reward of thy blessed balsam, said he, as he bade the earl kneel down before her, and made him swear that he would restore all that he had taken from her. After that he departed, and went into the deserts, and as he was passing through a wood he hurdled out yelling. Pushing aside the bushes, he beheld a great mount, and buyet a rock. Near the rock was a lion seeking to reach the mount, and each time he moved, out darted a serpent from the rock to prevent him. Then Owen unsheathed his sword, and cut off the serpent's head, and went on his way, and the lion followed, and played about him as if he had been a greyhound. And much more useful was he than a greyhound, for in the evening he brought large logs in his mouth to kindle a fire, and killed a fat buck for dinner. Owen made his fire and skin the buck, and put some of it to roast, and he gave the rest to the lion for supper. While he was waiting for the meat to cook, he heard the sound of deep sighing close to him, and he said, Who art thou? I am lunid, replied a voice from a cave so hidden by bushes and green-hanging plants that Owen had not seen it. And what dost thou here, cried he? I am held captive in this cave on account of the night who married the Countess and left her. For the pages spoke ill of him, and because I told them that no man living was his equal, they dragged me here, and said I should die unless he should come to deliver me by a certain day, and that is no further than the day after tomorrow. His name is Owen, son of Urien. But I have none to send to tell him of my danger, or surety he would deliver me. Owen held his peace, but gave the maidens some of the meat and bade her to be of good cheer, then followed by the lion he set out for a great castle on the other side of the plain, and men came and took his horse and placed it in a manger, and the lion went after and lay down on the straw. Hospitable and kind were all within the castle, but so full of sorrow that it might have been thought death was upon them. At length, when they had eaten and drunk, Owen prayed the Earl tell him the reason for their grief. Yesterday, answered the Earl, my two sons were seized, while they were hunting by a monster who dwells on those mountains yonder, and he vowed that he will not let them go unless I give him my daughter to wife. That shall never be, said Owen, but what form hath this monster? In shape he is a man, but in stature he is a giant, replied the Earl, and it were better by far that he should slay my sons than that I should give up my daughter. Early next morning the dwellers in the castle were awakened by a great glamour, and they found that the giant had arrived with the two young men. Swiftly, Owen put on his armour and went forth to meet the giant, and the lion followed at his heels. But when the great beast beheld the hard blows which the giant dealt his master, he flew at his throat, and much trouble had the monster in beating him off. Truly, said the giant, I should find no difficulty in fighting thee if it were not for that lion. When he heard that Owen felt shame, that he could not overcome the giant by his own sword. So he took the lion and shut him up in one of the towers of the castle, and returned to the fight. But from the sound of the blows the lion knew that the combat was going ill for Owen, so he climbed up till he reached the top of the tower, where there was a door onto the roof, and from the tower he sprang onto the walls, and from the walls to the ground. Then with a loud roar he leapt upon the giant, who fell dead under the blow of his paw. Now the gloom of the castle was turned into rejoicing, and the earl begged Owen to stay with him till he could make him a feast, but the knight said he had other work to do, and rode back to the place where he had left Lunad, and the lion followed out his heels. When he came there he saw a great fire kindled, and two youths leading out the maiden to cast her upon the pile. Stop! he cried, dashing up to them. What charge have you against her? She boasted that no man in the world was equal to Owen, they said, and we shot her in a cave and agreed that none should deliver her but Owen himself, and that if he did not come by a certain day she should die, and now the time has passed and there is no sign of him. In truth he is a good knight, and had he but known that the maid was in peril he would have come to save her, said Owen, but except me and his stead I entreat you. We will, replied they, and the fight began. The youths fought well and pressed hard on Owen, and when the lion saw that he came to help his master, but the youths made a sign for the fight to stop and said, Chieftain, it was agreed we should give battle to the alone, and it is harder for us to contend with yonder beast than with thee. Then Owen shut up the lion in the cave where the maiden had been imprisoned, and blocked up the front with stones, but the fight with the giant had sorely tired him, and the youths fought well, and pressed him harder than before, and when the lion saw that he gave a loud roar and burst through the stones, and sprang upon the youths and slew them, and so Lunid was delivered at the last. Then the maiden rode back with Owen to the lands of the Lady of the Fountain, and he took the lady with him to Arthur's Court, where they lived happily until they died, and of Lady of the Fountain. This recording is in the public domain. In the old land of Brittany, once called Cornwall, there lived a woman named Barbeque Borges, who spent all her days in looking after her farm with the help of her niece, Tiffany. Early and late the two might be seen in the fields or in the dairy, milking cows, making butter, feeding fowls, working hard themselves, and taking care that others work too. Perhaps it might have been better for Barbeque if she had left herself a little time to rest and to think about other things, for soon she grew to love money for its own sake, and only gave herself and Tiffany the food and clothes they absolutely needed. And, as for poor people, she positively hated them, and declared that such lazy creatures had no business in the world. Well, this being the sort of person Barbeque was, it is easy to guess at her anger when one day she found Tiffany talking outside the cow-house to young Dennis, who was nothing more than a day labourer from the village of Plover. Seizing her niece by the arm, she pulled her sharply away, exclaiming, Are you not ashamed, girl, to waste your time over a man, who is as poor as a rat, when there are dozen more who would be only too happy to buy you rings of silver if you would let them? Dennis is a good workman, as you know very well, answered Tiffany, red with anger, and he puts by money too, and soon he will be able to take a farm for himself. Nonsense! cried Barbeque. He will never save enough for a farm till he is a hundred. I would sooner see you in your graves on the wife of a man who carries his whole fortune on his back. What does fortune matter when one is young and strong? asked Tiffany. But her aunt, amazed at such words, would hardly let her finish. What does fortune matter? repeated Barbeque in a shocked voice. Is it possible that you are really so foolish as to despise money? If that is what you learn from Dennis, I forbid you to speak to him, and I will have him turned out of the farm if he dares to show his face here again. Now go and wash the clothes and spread them out to dry. Tiffany did not dare to disobey, but with a heavy heart went down the paths of the river. She is harder than these rocks, said the girl to herself. Yes, a thousand times harder. For the rain, at least, can at least wear away the stone, but you might cry forever and she would never care. Talking to Dennis is the only pleasure I have, and if I am not to see him, I may as well enter a convent. Thinking they sought, she reached the bank, and began to unfold the large packet of linen that had been washed. The tap of a stick made her look up, and standing before her, she saw a little old woman whose face was strange to her. You would like to sit down and rest, Granny? asked Tiffany, pushing aside her bundle. When the sky is all the proof you have, you rest where you will. Replied the old woman in trembling towns. Are you so lonely, then? inquired Tiffany, full of pity. Have you no friends who would welcome you into their houses? The old woman shook her head. They all died long, long ago, she answered. And the only friends I have are strangers with kind hearts. The girl did not speak for a moment, then held out the small loaf and some bacon intended for her dinner. Take this, she said, today at any rate you shall dine well. And the old woman took it, gazing at Tiffany a while. Those who help others deserve to be helped, she answered. Your eyes are still red because that miser Barbeque has forbidden you to speak to the young man from Plover. But cheer up, you are a good girl, and I will give you something that will enable you to see him once every day. You? cried Tiffany, stupefied, at discovering that the beggar knew all about her affairs, but the old woman did not hear her. Take this long copper pin, she went on, and every time you stick it in your dress Mother Boris will be obliged to leave the house in order to go and count her cabbages. As long as the pin is in your dress you will be free, and your aunt will not come back until you have put it in its case again. Then, rising, she nodded to Tiffany and vanished. The girl stood where she was, as still as stone. If it had not been for the pin in her hands, she would have thought she was dreaming. But by that token she knew it was no common old woman who had given it to her but a fairy, wise in telling what would happen in the days to come. Then, suddenly, Tiffany's eyes fell on the clothes, and to make up for lost time she began to wash them with a great vigor. Next evening, at the moment when Dennis was accustomed to wait for her in the shadow of the cowhouse, Tiffany stuck the pin in her dress, and at the very same instant Barbeque took up her sabbets and wooden shoes, and went through the orchard and passed to the fields, to the plot where the cabbages grew. With a heart as light as her footsteps, the girl ran from the house and spent her evening happily with Dennis, and so it was for many days after that. Then at last, Tiffany began to notice something, and the something made her very sad. At first Dennis seemed to find the hours that they were together fly as quickly as she did, but when he had taught her all the songs he knew and told her all the plans he had made for growing rich and a great man, he had nothing more to say to her, for he, like a great many other people, was fond of talking himself, but not of listening to anyone else. Sometimes, indeed, he never came at all, and the next evening he would tell Tiffany that he had been forced to go into town on business, but though she never reproached him, she was not deceived and saw plainly that he no longer cared for her as he used to do. Day by day her heart grew heavier and her cheeks paler, and one evening, when she had waited for him in vain, she put her water pot on her shoulder and went slowly down to the spring. On the path in front of her stood the fairy who had given her the pin, and as she glanced at Tiffany, she gave a little mischievous laugh and said, Why, my pretty maiden hardly looks happier than she did before, in spite of meeting her lover whenever she pleases. He has grown tired of me, answered Tiffany in a trembling voice, and he makes excuses to stay away. Ah, Granny, dear, it is not enough to be able to see him. I must be able to amuse him and to keep him with me. He is so clever, you know. Help me to be clever, too. Is that what you want? cried the old woman. Well, take this feather and stick it in your hair, and you will be as wise as Solomon himself. Blushing with pleasure, Tiffany went home and stuck the feather into the blue ribbon which girls always wear in that part of the country. In a moment she heard Dennis whistling gaily, and as her aunt was safely counting her cabbages, she hurried out to meet him. The young man was struck dumb by her talk. There was nothing that she did not seem to know, and as for songs, she not only could sing those from every part of Brittany, but could compose them herself. Was this really the quiet girl who had been so anxious to learn all he could teach her, or was it somebody else? Perhaps she had gone suddenly mad, and there was an evil spirit inside her. But, in any case, night after night he came back, only to find her growing wiser and wiser. Soon the neighbours whispered their surprise among themselves, for Tiffany had not been able to resist the pleasure of putting the feather in her hair for some of the people who despised her for her poor clothes, and many were the jokes she made about them. Of course they heard of her jests, and shook their head saying, She is an ill-natured little cat, and the man that marries her will find that it is she who holds the reins and drive the horse. It was not long before Dennis began to agree with them, and as he always liked to be the master wherever he went, he became afraid of Tiffany's sharp tongue, and instead of laughing as before when she made fun of other people, he grew red and uncomfortable, thinking that his turn would come next. So matters went on till one evening Dennis told Tiffany that he really could not stay a moment, as he had promised to go to a dance that was to be held in the next village. Tiffany's face fell. She had worked hard all day, and had been counting on a quiet hour with Dennis. She did her best to persuade him to remain with her, but he would not listen, and at last she grew angry. Oh, I know why you are so anxious not to miss the dance, she said. It is because Azaleas of Pen and Rue will be there. Now, Azaleas was the loveliest girl for miles around, and she and Dennis had known each other from childhood. Oh, yes, Azaleas will be there, answered Dennis, who was quite pleased to see her jealous, and naturally one would go a long way to watch her dance. Go then! cried Tiffany, and entering the house she slammed the door behind her. Lonely and miserable she sat down by the fire and stared into the red embers. Then, flinging the feather from her hair, she put her head on her hands and sobbed passionately. What is the use of being clever when it is beauty that men want? That is what I ought to have asked for, but it is too late. Dennis will never come back. Since you wish it so much, you shall have beauty, said a voice at her side, and looking round she beheld the old woman leaning on her stick. Fasten this necklace around your neck, and as soon as you wear it, you will be the most beautiful woman in the world, continued the fairy. With a little shriek of joy, Tiffany took the necklace, and snapping the clasp, ran to the mirror which hung in the corner. Ah, this time she was not afraid of Azaleas or of any other girl, for surely none could be as fair and white as she, and with the sight of her face a thought came to her, and putting on hastily her best dress and her buckled shoes she hurried to the dance. On the way she met a beautiful carriage with a young man seated in it. What a lovely maiden, he exclaimed as Tiffany approached. Why, there is not a girl in my own country that can be compared to her, she and no other shall be my bride. The carriage was large, and barred the narrow road, so Tiffany was forced, much against her will, to remain where she was, but she looked the young man full on the face as she answered, Go your way, noble lord, and let me go mine. I am only a poor peasant girl accustomed to milk and make hay and spin. Peasant you may be, but I will make you a great lady, said he, taking her hand and trying to lead her to the carriage. I don't want to be a great lady, I only want to be the wife of Dennis, she replied, throwing off his hand and running to the ditch which divided the road from the cornfield, where she hoped to hide. Unluckily the young man guessed what she was doing, and signed to his attendance who seized her and put her in the coach. The door was banged and the horses whipped into a gallop. At the end of an hour they arrived at a splendid castle, and Tiffany, who could not move, was lifted out and carried into the hall, while a priest was sent for to perform the marriage ceremony. The young man tried to win a smile from her by telling her of all the beautiful things she should have as his wife, but Tiffany did not listen to him, and looked about to see if there was any means by which she could escape. It did not seem easy. Three great doors were closely barred, and the one through which she had entered shut with a spring. But her feather was still in her hair, and by its age she detected a crack in the wooden paneling, through which a streak of light could be dimly seen. Touching the copper pin, which fastened her dress, the girl sent everyone in the hall to count the cabbages, while she herself passed through the little door, not knowing whether she was going. By this time night had fallen, and Tiffany was very tired. Thankfully she found herself at the gate of a convent, and asked if she might stay there till morning. But the fortress answered roughly that it had no place for beggars, and bade her be gone, so the poor girl dragged herself slowly along the road till the light and the bark of the dog told her that she was near a farm. In front of the house was a group of people, two or three women and the sons of the farmer. When their mother heard Tiffany's request to be given a bed, the good-boy's heart softened, and she was just going to invite her inside when the young men, whose heads returned by the girl's beauty, began to quarrel as to which should do most for her. From words they came to blows, and the women, frightened at the disturbance, pelted Tiffany with insulting names. She quickly ran down the nearest path, hoping to escape them in the darkness of the trees, but in an instant she heard their footsteps behind her. Wild with fear her legs trembled under her, when suddenly she bethought herself of her necklace. With a violent effort she burst the clasp and flung it round the neck of a pig, which was grunting in a ditch, and as she did she heard the footsteps cease from pursuing her and run after the pig for her charm had vanished. On she went, scarcely knowing where she was going, till she found herself, to her surprise and joy, close to her aunt's house. For several days she felt so tired and unhappy that she could hardly get through her work, and to make matters worse, Dennis scarcely ever came near her. He was too busy, he said, and really it was only rich people who could afford to waste time in talking. As the days went on Tiffany grew paler and paler till everybody noticed it except her aunt. The water pot was almost too heavy for her now, but morning and evening she carried it to the spring, though the effort to lift it to her shoulder was often too much for her. How could I have been so foolish? she whispered to herself. When she went down, as usual, on sunset, it was not freedom to see Dennis that I should have asked for, for he was soon wary of me, nor a quick tongue, for he was afraid of it, nor beauty, for that brought me nothing but trouble, but riches to make life easy for oneself and others. Ah, if I only dared to beg this gift from the fairy, I should be wiser than before, and know how to choose better. Be satisfied, said the voice from the old woman, who seemed to be standing unseen at Tiffany's elbow. If you look in your right hand pocket, when you go home you will find a small box, rub your eyes with the ointment it contains, and you will see that you yourself contain a priceless treasure. Tiffany did not in the least understand what she meant, but ran back to the farm as fast as she could, and began to fumble joyfully in her right hand pocket. Sure enough, there was the little box with the precious ointment. She was in the act of rubbing her eyes with it when Barbeque Borges entered the room. Ever since she had been obliged to leave her work and pass her time, she did not know why, in counting cabbages, everything had gone wrong, and she could not get a labourer to stay with her because of her bad temper. When, therefore, she saw her niece standing quietly before her mirror, Barbeque broke out, So, this is what you do when I am out in the fields. It is no wonder that the farm is ruined. Are you not ashamed, girl, to behave so? Tiffany tried to stammer some excuse, but her it was half mad with rage, and a box on the ears was her only answer. At this, Tiffany, hurt, bewildered, and excited, could control herself no longer, and turning away burst into tears. But what was her surprise, when she saw that each teardrop was around in shining pearl? Barbeque, who also beheld this marvel, uttered a cry of astonishment and threw herself on her niece to pick them up from the floor. She was still gathering them when the door opened and in came Dennis. Pearls! Are they really pearls? he asked, falling on his knees also, and looking up at Tiffany, he perceived others still more beautiful rolling down the girl's cheeks. Take care not to let any of the neighbours hear of this, Dennis, said Barbeque. Of course you shall have your share, but nobody else shall get a single one. Cry on, my dear, cry on! She continued to Tiffany. It is for your good as well as ours. As she held out her apron to catch them, and Dennis's hat. But Tiffany could hardly bear any more. She felt half choked at the sight of their greeniness, and wanted to rush from the hall, and though Barbeque caught her arm to prevent this, and said all sorts of tender words which she thought would make the girl weep the more, Tiffany, with a violent effort, forced back her tears and wiped her eyes. Is she finished already? cried Barbeque in a tone of disappointment. Oh, try again, my dear! Do you think it would do any good to beat her a little? She added to Dennis, who shook his head. That is enough for the first time. I will go into town and find out the value of each pearl. Then I will go with you, said Barbeque, who never trusted anyone, and was afraid of being cheated. So the two went out, leaving Tiffany behind them. She sat quite still on her chair. Her hands clashed tightly together, as if she was forcing something back. At last she raised her eyes, which had been fixed on the ground, and beheld the fairies standing in a dark corner by the hearth, observing her with a mocking look. The girl trembled and jumped up then, taking the feather, the pin, and the box, and held them out to the old woman. Here they are, all of them, she cried, thieving long to you. Let me never see them again, but I have learned the lesson that they haunt me. Others may have riches, beauty, and wit, but as for me I desire nothing but to be a poor peasant girl I always was, working hard for those she loves. Yes, you have learned your lesson, answered the fairy, and now you shall lead a peaceful life and marry the man you love, for after all it was not yourself you thought of but him. Never again did Tiffany see the old woman, but she forgave Dennis for selling her tears, and in time he grew to be a good husband who did his own share of work. And of the four gifts, this recording is in the public domain. From the Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, Editor In old times, when all kinds of wonderful things happened in Brittany, there lived in the village of Lana-Lise, a young man named Juan Pogom, and a girl called Bella Postic. They were cousins, and as their mothers were great friends, and constantly in and out of each other's houses, they had often been laid in the same cradle and had played and fought over their games. When they are grown up they will marry, said the mothers, but just as everyone was beginning to think of wedding bells, the two mothers died, and the cousins, who had no money, went as servants in the same house. This was better than being parted, of course, but not so good as having a little cottage of their own, where they could do as they liked, and soon they might have been heard bewailing to each other the hardness of their lots. If only we could manage to buy a cow and get a pig to fatten, grumbled Juan, I would rent a bit of ground from the master, and then we could be married. Yes, answered Bella with a deep sigh, but we live in such hard times, and at the last fair the price of pigs had risen again. We shall have long to wait, that is quite clear, replied Juan, turning away to his work. Whenever they met they repeated their grievances, and at length Juan's patience was exhausted, and one morning he came to Bella and told her that he was going away to seek his fortune. The girl was very unhappy as she listened to this, and felt sorry that she had not tried to make the best of things. She implored Juan not to leave her, but he would listen to nothing. The birds, he said, continued flying until they reached a field of corn, and the bees did not stop unless they find the honey-giving flowers. Why should a man have less sense than they? Like them I shall seek till I get what I want. That is, money to buy a cow and a pig to fatten. And if you love me, Bella, you won't attempt to hinder a plan which will hasten our marriage. The girl saw it was useless to say more. So she answered sadly, Well, go then, since you must, but first I will divide with you all that my parents left me. And going to her room she opened a small chest and took from it a bell, a knife, and a little stick. This spell, she said, can be heard at any distance, however far, but it only rings to warn us that our friends are in great danger. The knife frees all it touches from the spells that have been laid on them, while the stick will carry you wherever you want to go. I will give you the knife to guard you against the enchantments of wizards, and the bell to tell me of your perils, the stick I shall keep for myself so that I can fly to you if ever you have need of me. Then they cried for a little on each other's necks, and who weren't started for the mountains. But in those days, as in these, beggars abounded, and through every village he passed, they followed who aren't in crowds, mistaking him for a gentleman, because there were no holes in his clothes. There is no fortune to be made here, he thought to himself, it is a place for spending and not earning, I see I must go further. And he walked on to Pont-Aven, a pretty little town built on the bank of a river. He was sitting on a bench outside and in, when he heard two men who were loading their mules, talking about the grove of the island of Locke. What is a grove, she asked? I have never come across one. And the men answered that it was the name given to the ferry that dwelt in the lake, and that she was rich—oh, richer than all the kings in the world put together. Many had gone to the island to try and get possession of her treasures, but no one had ever come back. As he listened, who aren't's mind was made up. I will go, and return, too, he said to the mule-tears. They steered at him in astonishment, and besought him not to be so mad and to throw away his life in such a foolish manner. But he only laughed, and answered that if they could tell him of any other way in which to procure a cow and a pig to fatten, he would think no more about it. But the men did not know how this was to be done, and shaking their heads over his obstinacy left him to his fate. So, who aren't went down to the sea and found a boatman who engaged to take him to the Isle of Locke. The island was large, and lying almost across it was a lake, with a narrow opening to the sea. Who aren't paid the boatman and sent him away, and then proceeded to walk around the lake. At one end he perceived a small skiff, painted blue, and shaped like a swan, lying under a clump of yellow broom. As far as he could see the swan's head was tucked under its wing, and who aren't who had never beheld a boat of this sort went quickly toward it and stepped in so as to examine it the better. But no sooner was he on board than the swan woke suddenly up, his head emerged from under his wing, his feet began to move in the water, and in another moment they were in the middle of the lake. As soon as the young man had recovered from his surprise he prepared to jump into the lake and swim to shore, but the bird had guessed his intentions and plunged beneath the water, carrying Hawarn with him to the palace of the grove. Now unless you have been under the sea and beheld all the wonders that lie there you can never have an idea what the grove's palace was like. It was all made of shells, blue and green, and pink and lilac and white, shading into each other till you could not tell where one color ended and the other began. The staircases were of crystal, and every separate stair sang like a woodland bird as you put your foot on it. Around the palace were great gardens full of all the plants that grow in the sea, with diamonds for flowers. In a large hall the grove was lying on a couch of gold. The pink and white of her face reminded you of the shells of her palace, while her long black hair was intertwined with strings of coral, and her dress of green silk seemed formed out of the sea. At the sight of her, Hawarn stopped, dazzled by her beauty. Come in, said the grove rising to her feet. Strangers and handsome youths are always welcome here. Do not be shy, but tell me how you found your way and what you want. My name is Hawarn, he answered. Lana Lease is my home, and I am trying to earn enough money to buy a little cow and a pig to fatten. Well, you can easily get that, replied she. It is nothing to worry about. Come in and enjoy yourself. And she beckoned him to follow her into a second hall whose floors and walls were formed of pearls, while down the sides there were tables laden with fruit and wines of all kinds. And as he ate and drank, the grove talked to him and told him how the treasures he saw came from shipwrecked vessels and were brought to her palace by a magic current of water. I do not wonder, exclaimed Hawarn, who now felt quite at home. I do not wonder that the people on the earth have so much to say about you. The rich are always envied. For myself, he added with a laugh, I only ask for the half of your wealth. You can have it if you will, Hawarn, answered the fairy. What do you mean, cried he. My husband Corindon is dead, she replied, and if you wish that I will marry you. The young man gazed at her in surprise. Would anyone so rich and so beautiful really wish to be his wife? He looked at her again, and Bella was forgotten, as he answered. A man would be mad indeed to refuse such an offer. I can only accept it with joy. Then the sooner it is done, the better, said the grove, and gave orders to her servants. After that was finished, she begged Hawarn to accompany her to a fish pond at the bottom of the garden. Come lawyer, come miller, come tailor, come singer, cried she, holding at a net of steel, and at each summons a fish appeared and jumped into the net. When it was full she went into a large kitchen and threw them all into a golden pot, but above the bubbling of the water Hawarn seemed to hear the whispering of little voices. Who is it whispering in a golden pot, Grosch, he acquired at last? It is nothing but the noise of the wood sparkling, she answered, but it did not sound the least like that to Hawarn. There it is again, he said after a short pause. The water is getting hot, and it makes the fish jump, she replied, but soon the noise grew louder and like cries. What is it, asked Hawarn, beginning to feel uncomfortable. Just the crickets on the hearths, said she, and broke into a song which drowned the cries from the pot. But though Hawarn held his peace, he was not as happy as before. Something seemed to have gone wrong, and then he suddenly remembered Bella. Is it possible I can have forgotten her so soon? What a wretch I am, he thought to himself, and he remained apart and watched the Grosch, while she emptied the fish into a plate, and bade him eat his dinner while she fetched wine from her cellar in a cave. Hawarn sat down and took out the knife which Bella had given him, but as soon as the blade touched the fish the enchantment ceased and four men stood before him. Hawarn, save us, we entreat you, and save yourself too, murmured they, not daring to raise their voices. Why, it must have been you who were crying in the pot just now, exclaimed Hawarn. Yes, it was us, they answered. Like you we came to the Isle of Lope to seek our fortunes, and like you we consented to marry the Grosch, and no sooner was the ceremony over than she turned us into fishes, as she had done to all our forerunners, who were in the fish pond still, where you will shortly join them. On hearing this, Hawarn leapt into the air, as if he already felt himself fizzling into the golden pot. He rushed to the door, hoping to escape that way, but the Grosch who had heard everything met him on the threshold. Instantly she threw the steel net over his head, and the eyes of a little green frog peeped through the meshes. You shall go and play with the rest, said she, carrying him off to the fish pond. It was at this very moment that Bella, who was skimming the milk in the farm-dairy, heard the fairy bell tinkle violently. At the sound she grew pale, for she knew it meant that Hawarn was in danger, and hastily changed the rough dress she wore for her work. She left the farm with a magic stick in her hand. Her knees were trembling under her, but she ran as hastily as she could to the crossroads, where she drove her stick into the ground, murmuring as she did so a verse her mother had taught her. Little staff of apple-tree, over the earth and over the sea, up in the air beguide to me, everywhere to wander free, and immediately the stick became a smart little horse, with a rosette at each ear and a feather on his forehead. He stood quite still while Bella scrambled up, then he started off, his pace growing quicker and quicker, till at length the girl could hardly see the trees and houses as they flashed past. But rapid as the pace was, it was not rapid enough for Bella, who stooped and said, The swallow is less swift than the wind, the wind is less swift than the lightning, but you, my horse, if you love me, must be swifter than them all, for there is the part of my heart that suffers, the best part of my heart that is in danger. And the horse heard her, and galloped like a straw, carried along by a tempest, till they reached the foot of a rock, called the leap of the deer. There he stopped, for no horse or mule that ever was born could climb that rock, and Bella knew it. So she began to sing again, Horse of Leon, given to me, over the earth and over the sea, up in the air and beguide to me, everywhere to wander free. And when she had finished, the horse's forelegs grew shorter and spread into wings. His hind legs became claws, feathers sprouted all over his body, and she sat on the back of a great bird, which bore her to the summit of the rock. Here she found a nest made of clay, and lined with dried moss, and in the center a tiny man, black and wrinkled, who gave a cry of surprise at the sight of Bella. Ah, you were the pretty girl who has come to save me! To save you, repeated Bella, but who are you, my little friend? I am the husband of the Groesch of the Isle of Locke, and it is owing to her that I am here. But what are you doing in this nest? I am sitting on six eggs of stone, and I shall not be set free till they are hatched. On hearing this, Bella began to laugh. Poor little cock, she said, and how am I to deliver you? By delivering Huarn, who is in the power of the Groesch. Ah, tell me how I can manage that, and if I have to walk round the whole of Brittany on my bended knees, I will do it. While first you must dress yourself as a young man, then go and seek the Groesch. When you have found her, you must contrive to get hold of the net of steel that hangs from her waist, and shut her up in it for ever. But where am I to find a young man's clothes, asked she? I will show you, he replied, and as he spoke he pulled out three of his red hairs and blew them away, muttering something the while. In the twinkling of an eye, the four hairs changed into four tailors, of whom the first carried a cabbage, the second a pair of scissors, the third a needle, and the fourth an iron. Without waiting for orders, they sat down in the nest, and crossing their legs comfortably, began to prepare the suit of clothes for Bella. With one of the leaves of the cabbage, they made her a coat, and another served for a waistcoat. But it took two for the wide breeches, which were then in fashion. The hat was cut from the heart of the cabbage, and a pair of shoes from the thick stem. And when Bella had put them all on, you would have taken her for a gentleman dressed in green velvet, lined in white satin. She thanked the little men gratefully, and after a few more instructions, jumped on the back of her great bird, and was borne away to the Isle of Locke. Once there she bade him transform himself into a stick, and with it in her hand, she stepped into the blue boat, which conducted her to the Palace of Shells. The grove seemed overjoyed to see her, and told her that never before had she beheld such a handsome young man. Very soon she led her visitor into the great hall where wine and fruit were always waiting, and on the table lay the magic knife left there by Huarn. Unseen by the grove, Bella hid it in a pocket of her green coat, and then followed her hostess into the garden, and to the pond which contained the fish, their sides shining with a thousand different colors. Oh, what beautiful creatures said she! I'm sure I should never be tired of watching them! And she sat down on the bank, with her elbows on her knees, and her chin in her hands, her eyes fixed on the fishes as they flashed past. Would you not like to stay here always? asked the grove, and Bella answered that she desired nothing better. Then you only have to marry me, said the grove. Oh, don't say no, for I have fallen deeply in love with you. Well, I won't say no, replied Bella with a laugh, but you must promise first to let me catch one of these lovely fish in your net. It is not so easy as it looks, rejoin the grove, smiling, but take it and try your luck. Bella took the net, which the grove held out, and, turning rapidly, flung it over the witch's head. Becoming body what you are in soul, cried she, and in an instant the lovely fairy of the sea was atowed, horrible to look upon. She struggled hard to tear the net asunder, but it was no use. Bella only drew it the tighter, and fleeing the saucerous into a pit, she rolled a great stone across the mouth and left her. As she drew near the pond, she saw a great procession of fishes advancing to meet her, crying in hoarse tones. This is our lord and master, who has saved us from the net of steel in the pot of gold. And who will restore you to your proper shape, said Bella, drawing the knife from her pocket? But just as she was going to touch the foremost fish, her eyes fell on a green frog on his knees beside her. His little paws crossed over his little heart. Bella felt as if fingers were tightening around her throat, but she managed to cry, Is this you, my hawarn? Is this you? It is I, croaked the little frog, and as the knife touched him he was a man again, and springing up clasped her in his arms. But we must not forget the others, she said at last, and began to transform the fishes to their proper shapes. There were so many of them that it took quite a long time. Just as she had finished, there arrived the little dwarf from the deer's leap in a car drawn by six cock-shafers, which once had been the six stone eggs. Here I am, he exclaimed, you have broken the spell that held me, and now come and get your reward. And dismounting from his chariot, he led them down into the caves filled with gold and jewels, and Bade, Bella, and Hawarn take much as they wanted. When their pockets were full, Bella ordered her stick to become a winged carriage, large enough to bear them, and the men they had rescued back to Lana-Lise. They were married the next day, but instead of setting up housekeeping with a little cow and pig to fatten, that they had so long wished for, they were able to buy lands from miles round themselves, and gave each man who had been delivered from the grove a small farm where he lived happily to the end of his days. End of The Groce of the Isle of Locke from the Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang Editor. This recording is in the public domain. Recorded by Megan Stemwade, February 8th, 2007. Visit me at siamismeg.com. The Escape of the Mouse from the Lilac Fairy Book. 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 Joe Cono. The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang Editor. The Escape of the Mouse. A Tale from Wales. Mana-within the prince and his friend Pritory were wanderers, for the brother of Mana-within had been slain, and is thrown taken from him. Very sorrowful was Mana-within, but Pritory whist out of heart and bade him be of good cheer, as he knew a way out of his trouble. And what may that be, asked Mana-within? It is that thou marry my mother Rhiannon, and become lord of the fair lands that I will give her for dowry. Never did any lady have more wit than she, and in her youth none was more lovely. Even yet she is good to look upon. Thou art the best friend that ever a man had, said Mana-within. Let us go now and seek Rhiannon, in the lands where she dwells. Then they set forth, but the news of their coming ran swifter still, and Rhiannon and Kiava, wife of Pritory, made haste to prepare a feast for them. And Mana-within found that Pritory had spoken the truth concerning his mother, and asked if she would take him for her husband. Right gladly did she consent, and without delay they were married, and rode away to the hunt. Rhiannon and Mana-within, Kiava and Pritory, and they would not be parted from each other by night or by day, so great was the love between them. One day, when they were returned, they were sitting out in a green place, and suddenly the crash of thunder struck loudly on their ears, and a wall of mist fell between them, so that they were hidden one from the other. Trembling they sat till the darkness fled, and the light shone again upon them, but in the place where they were want to see cattle, and herds, and dwellings, they beheld neither house nor beast, nor man nor smoke. Neither was any one remaining in the green place save these four only. Whither have they gone, and my host also cried Mana-within, and they searched the hall, and there was no man, and the castle, there was none, and in the dwellings that were left was nothing save wild beast. For a year these four fed on the meat that Mana-within and Pritory killed out hunting, and the honey of the bees that sucked the mountain heather. For a time they desired nothing more, but when the next year began they grew weary. We cannot spend our lives thus, said Mana-within at last. Let us go into England and learn some trade by which we may live. So they left Wales and went to Hereford, and there they made saddles, while Mana-within fashioned blue enamel ornaments to put on their trappings, and so greatly did the townsfolk love these saddles that no others were bought throughout the whole of Hereford, till the saddlers banded together and resolved to slay Mana-within and his companions. When Pritory heard of it, he was very wroth, and wished to stay and fight, but the councils of Mana-within prevailed, and they moved by night to another city. What craft shall we follow? asked Pritory. We will make shields, answered Mana-within. Do we know anything of that craft? answered Pritory. We will try it, said Mana-within, and they began to make shields, and fashioned them after the shape of the shields they had seen, and these likewise they enameled, and so greatly did they prosper that no man in the town bought a shield except they had, who had made it, till at length the shield-makers banded together as the saddlers had done and resolved to slay them. But of this they had warning, and by night they took themselves to another town. Let us take to making shoes, said Mana-within, for there are not any among the shoemakers bold enough to fight us. I know nothing of making shoes, answered Pritory, who in truth despised so peaceful a craft. But I know, replied Mana-within, and I will teach thee to stitch. We will buy the leather ready-dressed, and will make the shoes from it. Then straightway he sought the town for the best leather, and for a goldsmith to fashion the clasps, and he himself watched till it was done so that he might learn for himself. Soon he became known as the maker of golden shoes, and prospered so greatly that as long as one could be bought from him, not a shoe was purchased from the shoemakers of the town, and the craftsmen were wroth and banded together to slay them. Pritory, said Mana-within, when he had received news of it, we will not remain in England any longer. Let us set forth to divide. So they journeyed until they came to their lands at Narberth. There they gathered their dogs round them and hunted for a year as before. After that a strange thing happened. One morning Pritory and Mana-within rose up to hunt, and loosened their dogs, which ran before them, till they came to a small bush. At the bush the dogs shrank away as if frightened, and returned to their masters, their hair bristling on their backs. We must see what is in that bush, said Pritory, and what was in it was a bore, with a skin as white as the snow on the mountains. And he came out, and made a stand as the dogs rushed on him, driven on by the men. Long he stood at bay, then at last he betook himself to flight, and fled to a castle which was newly built, and a place where no building had ever been known. Into the castle he ran and the dogs after him, and long though their masters looked and listened, they neither saw nor heard ought concerning dogs or bore. I will go into the castle and get tidings of the dogs, said Pritory at last. Truly, answered Mana-within, thou wouldst do unwisely, for whosoever has cast a spell over this land has set this castle here. I cannot give up my dogs, replied Pritory, into the castle he went. But within was neither man nor beast, neither bore nor dogs, but only a fountain with marble round it, and on the edge a golden bowl, richly wrought. Which pleased Pritory greatly. In a moment he forgot about his dogs and went up to the bowl and took hold of it, and his hands stuck to the bowl, and his feet to the marble slab, and his spare took possession of him. Till the close of day Mana-within waited for him, and when the sun was fast sinking he went home, thinking that he had strayed far. Where are thy friend and thy dogs? said Riannon, and he told her what had befallen Pritory. A good friend hast thou lost, answered Riannon, and she went up to the castle and through the gate which was open. There, in the center of the courtyard, she beheld Pritory standing, and hastened towards him. What dost thou hear? she asked, laying her hand on the bowl, and as she spoke she too stuck fast, and was not able to utter a word. Then thunder was heard and a veil of darkness descended upon them, and the castle vanished, and they with it. When Kieva, the wife of Pritory, found that neither her husband nor his mother returned to her, she was in such sorrow that she cared not whether she lived or died. Mana-within was grieved also in his heart, and said to her, It is not fitting that we should stay here, for he have lost our dogs and cannot get food. Let us go into England, it is easier for us to live there. So they set forth. What craft wilt thou follow? asked Kieva as they went along. I shall make shoes, as once I did, replied he. And he got all the finest leather in the town, and caused gilded clasp to be made for the shoes, till every one flocked to buy, and all the shoemakers in the town were idle, and banded together in anger to kill him. But luckily Mana-within got word of it, and he and Kieva left the town one night and proceeded to our birth, taking with him a sheaf of wheat, which he sowed in three plots of ground. And while the wheat was growing up he hunted and fished, and they had food enough to spare. Thus the months passed until the harvest, and one evening Mana-within visited the furthest of his fields of wheat, and saw that it was ripe. Tomorrow I will reap this, said he. But on the morrow when he went to reap the wheat he found nothing, but the bare straw. Filled with dismay he hastened to the second field, and there the corn was ripe and golden. Tomorrow I will reap this, he said. But on the morrow the ears had gone, and there was nothing but the bare straw. Well, there is still one field left, he said, and when he looked at it it was still fairer than the other two. Tonight I will watch here, thought he, for whosoever carried off the other corn will in like manner take this, and I will know who it is. So he hid himself and waited. The hours slid by, and all was still, so still that Mana-within well-nigh dropped to sleep. But at midnight there arose the loudest tumult in the world, and peeping out he beheld a mighty host of mice, which could neither renumbered nor measured. Each mouse climbed up a straw till it bent down with its weight, and then it bit off one of the ears and carried it away, and there was not one of the straws that had not got a mouse to it. Full of wrath he rushed at the mice, but he could no more come up with them than if they had been gnats, or birds of the air, save one only which lingered behind the rest, and this mouse Mana-within came up with. Stooping down he seized it by the tail, put it in his glove, and tied a piece of string across the opening of the glove so that the mouse could not escape. When he entered the hall where Kieva was sitting, he lighted a fire and hung the glove up on a peg. What hast thou there, hast she? A thief, he answered, that I caught robbing me. What kind of a thief may it be which thou couldst put in thy glove, said Kieva? That I will tell thee, he replied, and then he showed her how his fields of corn had been wasted, and how he had watched for the mice. And one was less nimble than the rest, and is now in my glove. Tomorrow I will hang it, and I only wish I had them all. It is a marvel truly, said she, yet it would be unseemly for a man of thy dignity to hang a reptile such as this. Do not meddle with it, but let it go. Woe betide me, he cried, if I would not hang them all, if I could catch them, and such as I have I will hang. Verily, said she, there is no reason I should secure this reptile, except to prevent discredit unto thee. If I knew any cause that I should secure it, I would take thy counsel, answered Manna withen. But as I know of none, I am minded to destroy it. Do so then, said Kieva. So he went up a hill and set up two forks on the top, and while he was doing this he saw a scholar coming towards him, whose clothes were tattered. Now it was seven years since Manna withen had seen man or beast in that place, and the sight amazed him. Good day to thee, my lord, said the scholar. Good greeting to thee, scholar, whence dost thou come? From singing in England, but wherefore dost thou ask? Because for seven years no man hath visited this place. I wander where I will, answered the scholar, and what work art thou upon? I am about to hang a thief that I caught robbing me. What manner of thief is that? inquired the scholar. I see a creature in thy hand like upon a mouse, and ill does it become a man of thy rank to touch a reptile like this. Let it go free. I will not let it go free, cried Manna withen. I caught it robbing me, and it shall suffer the doom of a thief. Lord, said the scholar, sooner than see a man like thee at such a work I would give thee a pound which I have received as alms to let it go free. I will not let it go free, neither will I sell it. As thou wilt, lord, answered the scholar, and he went his way. Manna withen was placing the cross-beam on the two forked sticks where the mouse was to hang when a priest rode past. Good day to thee, lord, and what art thou doing? I am hanging a thief that I caught robbing me. What manner of thief, lord? A creature in the form of a mouse. It has been robbing me, and it shall suffer the doom of a thief. Lord, said the priest, sooner than see thee touch this reptile I would purchase its freedom. I will neither sell it nor set it free. It is true that a mouse is worth nothing, but rather than see thee defile thyself with touching such a reptile as this I will give thee three pounds for it. I will not take any price for it, it shall be hanged as it deserves. Willingly, my lord, if it is thy pleasure, and the priest went his way. Then Manna withen noosed the string about the mouse's neck, and was about to draw it tight when a bishop, with a great following and horses bearing huge packs, came by. What work art thou upon, as the bishop, drawing rain? Hanging a thief that I caught robbing me. But is not that a mouse that I see in thine hand, asked the bishop? Yes, that is the thief, answered Manna withen. Well, since I have come at the doom of this reptile, I will ransom it of three for seven pounds, rather than see a man of thy rank touch it. Loose it, and let it go. I will not let it loose. I will give thee four and twenty pounds to send it free, said the bishop. I will not set it free for as much again. If thou wilt not set it free for this, I will give thee all the horses thou seest in the seven loads of baggage. I will not set it free. Then tell me at what price thou wilt loose it, and I will give it. The spell must be taken off Rhiannon in Prydory, said Manna withen. That shall be done. But not yet will I loose the mouse. The charm that has been cast over all my lands must be taken off likewise. This shall be done also. But not yet will I loose the mouse till I know who she is. She is my wife, answered the bishop. And wherefore came she to me, asked Manna withen. To dispoil thee, replied the bishop. For it is I who cast the charm over thy lands, to avenge Guaul, the son of Clude, my friend. And it was I who threw the spell upon Prydory to avenge Guaul for the trick that had been played on him in the game of Badger in the bag. And not only was I wroth but my people likewise, and when it was known that thou wast came to dwell in the land, they besought me much to change them into mice, that they might eat thy corn. The first and the second nights it was the men of my own house that destroyed thy two fields. But on the third night my wife and her ladies came to me, and begged me to change them also into the shape of mice, that they might take part in avenging Guaul. Therefore I changed them. Yet had she not been ill and slow afoot, thou couldst not have overtaken her. Still, since she was caught, I will restore thee, Prydory and Rhiannon, and I will take the charm from off thy lands. I have told thee who she is, so now set her free. I will not set her free, answered Manna withen, till thou swear that no vengeance shall be taken for his, either upon Prydory or upon Rhiannon or on me. I will grant thee this boon, and thou hast done wisely to ask it, for on thy head would have lit all the trouble. Set now my wife free. I will not set her free till Prydory and Rhiannon are with me. Behold, here they come, said the bishop. Then Manna withen held out his hands, and greeted Prydory and Rhiannon, and they seated themselves joyfully on the grass. Ah, Lord, hast thou not received all thou didst ask, said the bishop? Set now my wife free. That I will do gladly, answered Manna withen, unloosing the cord from her neck, and as he did so the bishop struck her with his staff, and she turned into a young woman, the fairest that ever was seen. Look around upon thy land, said he, and thou wilt see it all tilled and peopled as it was long ago. And Manna withen looked and saw corn growing in the fields, and cows and sheep grazing on the hillsides, and hunts for the people to dwell in, and he was satisfied in his soul, but one more question he put to the bishop. What spell did thou lay upon Prydory and Rhiannon? Prydory has had the knockers of the gate of my palace hung about him, and Rhiannon has carried the collars of my asses around her neck, said the bishop with a smile, from the mavenagion. End of the escape of the mouse. This recording is in the public domain. Recording by Susie G. The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, editor, The Believing Husbands, a story from Scotland. Once upon a time there dwelt in the land of Aaron a young man who was seeking a wife, and of all the maidens round about, none pleased him as well as the only daughter of a farmer. The girl was willing, and the father was willing, and very soon they were married and went to live at the farm. By and by the season came when they must cut the peats and pile them up to dry so that they might have fires in the winter. So on a fine day the girl and her husband, and the father and his wife, all went out upon the moor. They worked hard for many hours, and at length grew hungry, so the young woman was sent home to bring them food, and also to give the horses their dinner. When she went into the stables, she suddenly saw the heavy pack saddle of the speckled mare just over her head, and she jumped and said to herself, suppose that pack saddle were to fall and kill me, how dreadful it would be! And she sat down just under the pack saddle she was so much afraid of, and began to cry. Now the others out on the moor grew hungrier and hungrier. What can had become of her, as they, and at length the mother declared that she would wait no longer, and must go and see what happened. As the bride was nowhere in the kitchen, or the dairy, the old woman went into the stable, where she found her daughter weeping bitterly. What is the matter, my dove? And the girl answered between her sobs, when I came in and saw the pack saddle over my head, I thought how dreadful it would be if it fell and killed me, and she cried louder than before. The old woman struck her hands together, oh, to think of it, if that were to be, what should I do? And she sat down by her daughter, and they both wrung their hands and let their tears flow. Something strange must have occurred, exclaimed the old farmer on the moor, who by this time was not only hungry, but cross. I must go after them. And he went and found them in the stable. What is the matter, asked he. Oh, replied his wife, when our daughter came home, did she not see the pack saddle over her head, and she thought how dreadful it would be if it were to fall and kill her. Ah, to think of it, exclaimed he, striking his hands together, and he sat down beside them and wept too. As soon as night fell, the young man returned full of hunger, and there they all were, crying together in a stable. What is the matter, asked he. When thy wife came home, answered the farmer, she saw the pack saddle over her head, and she thought how dreadful it would be if it were to fall and kill her. Well, but it didn't fall, replied the young man, and he went off to the kitchen to get some supper, leaving them to cry as long as they liked. The next morning he got up with the son, and said to the old man and to the old woman, and to his wife, Farewell, my foot shall not return to the house until I found other three people as silly as you, and he walked away till he came to a town, and seeing the door of a cottage standing wide open, he entered. No man was present, but only some women spinning at their wheels. You do not belong to this town, said he. You speak truth, they answered, nor you either. I do not, replied he. But is it a good place to live in? The women looked at each other. The men of the town are so silly that we can make them believe anything we please, said they. Well, here is a gold ring, replied he. I will give it to the one amongst you who can make our husband believe the most impossible thing, and he left them. As soon as the first husband came home, his wife said to him, Thou art sick. Am I? asked he. Yes, thou art, she answered. Take off thy clothes and lie down. So he did, and when he was in his bed, his wife went to him and said, Thou art dead. Oh, am I? asked he. Thou art, said she. Shut thine eyes and stir neither hand nor foot. And dead, he felt sure he was. Soon the second man came home, and his wife said to him, Thou art not my husband. Oh, am I not? asked he. No, it is not you, answered she. So he went away and slept in the wood. When the third man arrived, his wife gave him his supper, and after that he went to bed, just as usual. The next morning a boy knocked at the door, bidding him attend the burial of the man who was dead, and he was just going to get up when his wife stopped him. Time enough, said she, and he lay still till he heard the funeral passing the window. Now rise and be quick, called the wife, and the man jumped out of bed in a great hurry, and began to look about him. Why, where are my clothes? asked he. Silly that you are, they're on your back, of course, answered the woman. Are they? said he. They are, said she, and make haste lest the burying be ended before you get there. Then off he went, running hard, and when the mourners saw a man coming towards them with nothing but his night-shirt, they forgot in their fright what they were there for, and fled to hide themselves, and the naked man stood alone at the head of the coffin. Very soon a man came out of the wood and spoke to him. Do you know me? Not I, answered the naked man. I do not know you. But why are you naked? asked the first man. Am I naked? My wife told me I had all my clothes on, answered he. And my wife told me that I myself was dead, said the man in the coffin. But at the sound of his voice the two men were so terrified that they ran straight home, and the man in the coffin got up and followed them. And it was his wife that gained the gold ring, as he had been sillier than the other two. End of The Believing Husbands. This recording is in the public domain. Recording by Susie G. The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang Editor The Hoodie Crow, a tale from Scotland Once there lived a farmer who had three daughters, and good useful girls they were, up with the sun and doing all the work of the house. One morning they all ran down to the river to wash their clothes. When a hoodie came round and sat on a tree close by. Will thou wed me, thou farmer's daughter? he said to the eldest. Indeed I won't wed thee, she answered, an ugly brute is the hoodie. And the bird, much offended, spread his wings and flew away. But the following day he came back again, and said to the second girl, Will thou wed me, farmer's daughter? Indeed I will not, answered she, an ugly brute is the hoodie, and the hoodie was more angry than before, and went away in a rage. However, after a night's rest he was in a better temper, and thought that he might be more lucky the third time. So back he went to the old place. Will thou wed me, farmer's daughter? he said to the youngest. Indeed I will wed thee, a pretty creature is the hoodie, answered she, and on the morrow they were married. I have something to ask thee, said the hoodie, when they were far away in his own house. Wouldst thou rather I should be a hoodie by day and a man by night, or a man by day and a hoodie by night? The girl was surprised at his words, for she did not know that he could be anything but a hoodie at all times. Still, she said nothing of this, and only replied, I would rather thou were a man by day and a hoodie by night. And so he was, and a handsomer man, or a more beautiful hoodie, never was seen. The girl loved them both, and never wished for things to be different. By and by they had a son, and very pleased they both were. But in the night soft music was heard stealing close towards the house, and every man slept, and the mother slept also. When they woke again it was morning, and the baby was gone. High and low they looked for it, but nowhere could they find it. And the farmer, who had come to see his daughter, was greatly grieved, as he feared it might be thought that he had stolen it, because he did not want the hoodie for a son-in-law. The next year the hoodie's wife had another son, and this time a watch was set at every door. But it was no use. In vain they determined that, come what might, they would not close their eyes. At the first note of music they all fell asleep. And when the farmer arrived in the morning to see his grandson, he found them all weeping, for while they had slept the baby had vanished. Well, the next year it all happened again. And the hoodie's wife was so unhappy that her husband resolved to take her away to another house he had, and her sisters with her for company. So they set out in a coach, which was big enough to hold them, and had not gone very far when the hoodie suddenly said, You are sure you have not forgotten anything? I had forgotten my coarse comb, answered the wife, feeling in her pocket, and as she spoke the coach changed into a withered faggot, and the man became a hoodie again and flew away. The two sisters returned home, but the wife followed the hoodie. Sometimes she would see him on a hilltop, and then would hasten after him, hoping to catch him. But by the time she had got to the top of the hill, he would be in a valley on the other side. When night came, and she was tired, she looked about for some place to rest. And glad she was to see a little house full of light straight in front of her, and she hurried towards it as fast as she could. At the door stood a little boy, and the sight of him filled her heart with pleasure. She did not know why. A woman came out, and bade her welcome, and set before her food, and gave her a soft bed to lie on. And the hoodie's wife lay down, and so tired was she, that it seemed to her but a moment before the sun rose. And she awoke again. From hill to hill she went after the hoodie, and sometimes she saw him on the top. But when she got to the top, he had flown into the valley, and when she reached the valley, he was on the top of another hill. And so it happened till night came round again. Then she looked round for some place to rest in, and she beheld a little house of light before her, and fast she hurried towards it. At the door stood a little boy, and her heart was filled with pleasure at the sight of him. She did not know why. After that a woman bade her enter, and set food before her, and gave her a soft bed to lie in. And when the sun rose, she got up and left the house in search of the hoodie. This day everything befell as on the two other days. But when she reached the small house, the woman bade her keep awake, and if the hoodie flew into the room to try to seize him. But the wife had walked far, and was very tired, and strife as she would, she fell sound asleep. Many hours she slept, and the hoodie entered through a window, and let fall a ring on her head. The girl awoke with a start, and lent forward to grasp him, but he was already flying off, and she only seized a feather from his wing. And when dawn came, she got up and told the woman. He has gone over the hill of poison, said she, and there you cannot follow him without horseshoes on your hands and feet. But I will help you. Put on this suit of men's clothes, and go down this road till you come to the smithy, and there you can learn to make horseshoes for yourself. The girl thanked her, and put on the clothes, and went down to the road to do her bidding. So hard did she work that in a few days she was able to make the horseshoes. Early one morning she set out for the hill of poison. On her hands and feet she went, but even with the horseshoes on, she had to be very careful not to stumble, lest some poison thorn should enter into her flesh, and she should die. But when at last she was over, it was only to hear that her husband was to be married that day to the daughter of a great Lord. Now there was to be a race in the town, and everyone meant to be there, except the stranger who had come over the hill of poison, everyone, that is, but the cook who was to make the bridal supper. Greatly he loved races, and sore was his heart to think that one should be run without his seeing it, so when he beheld a woman whom he did not know coming along the street, hope sprang up in him. Will you cook the wedding feast in place of me, he said, and I will pay you well when I return from the race. Gladly she agreed, and cooked the feast in a kitchen that looked into the great hall where the company were to eat it. After that she watched the seat where the bridegroom was sitting, and taking a plateful of broth she dropped the ring and the feather into it, and set it herself before him. With the first spoonful he took up the ring, and a thrill ran through him. In the second he beheld the feather and rose from his chair. Who has cooked this feast? asked he, and the real cook who had come back from the race was brought before him. He may be the cook, but he did not cook this feast, said the bridegroom, and then inquiry was made, and the girl was summoned to the great hall. This is my married wife, he declared, and no one else will I have, and at that very moment the spells fell off him, and never more would he be a hoodie. Happy indeed were they to be together again, and little did they mind that the hill of poison took long to cross, for she had to go some way forwards and then throw the horseshoes back for him to put on. Still, at last they were over, and they went back the way she had come, and stopped at the three houses in order to take their little sons to their own home. But the story never says who had stolen them, nor what the coarse comb had to do with it. End of The Hoodie Crow. This recording is in the public domain, recording by Catherine Monocchia. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Megan Stemwade, www.simesmag.com. The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, editor. The Brownie of the Lake, a tale from France. Once upon a time there lived in France a man whose name was Jean Rieu. You might have walked a whole day without meeting anyone happier or more contented, for he had a large farm, plenty of money, and above all a daughter named Barbique, the most graceful dancer and the best dressed girl in the whole world. When she appeared on holidays in her embroidered cap, five petticoats, each one a little shorter than the other, and shoes with silver buckles, the women were all filled with envy. But little cared Barbique what they might whisper behind her back, as long as she knew that her clothes were finer than anyone else's, and that she had more partners than any other girl. Now amongst all the young men who wanted to marry her, the one whose heart was most set on her was her father's headman. But as his manners were rough, and he was exceedingly ugly, she would have nothing to say to him, and what was worse often made fun of him with the rest. Shaku, for that was his name, of course, heard this, and it made him very unhappy. Still he would not leave the farm and look for work elsewhere, as he might have done, for then he would never see Barbique at all. And what was life worth to him without that? One evening he was bringing back his horses from the fields, and stopped at a little lake on the way home to let them drink. He was tired with the long day's work, and stood with his hand on the mane of one of the animals waiting till they had done, and thinking all the while of Barbique, when a voice came out of the gorge close by. What is the matter, Shaku? You mustn't despair. The young man glanced up in surprise and asked who was there. It is I, the brownie of the lake, replied the voice. But where are you, inquired Shaku? Look close, and you will see me among the reeds in the form of a little green frog. I can take, he added proudly, any shape I choose, and even, which is much harder, be invisible if I want to. Then show yourself to me in the shape in which your family generally appear, replied Jagu. Certainly, if you wish, and the frog jumped on the back of one of the horses and changed into a little dwarf, all dressed in green. This transformation rather frightened Jagu, but the brownie bad him have no fears, for he would not do him any harm. Indeed, he hoped that Jagu might find him of some use. But why should you take all this interest in me, asked the peasant suspiciously? Because of a service you did me last winter, which I have never forgotten, answered the little fellow. You know I am sure that the Corrigans, who dwell in the white corn country, have declared war on my people, because they say that they are friends of man. We were therefore obliged to take refuge in distant lands and to hide ourselves, at first under different animal shapes. Since that time, partly from habit and partly to amuse ourselves, we have continued to transform ourselves, and it was in this way that I got to know you. How, exclaimed Jagu, filled with astonishment. Do you remember when you were digging in the field near the river three months ago, and you found a robin-red breast caught in a nest? Yes, answered Jagu. I remember it very well, and I opened the net and let him go. Well, I was that robin-red breast, and ever since I have vowed to be your friend, and as you want to marry Barbake, I promise the truth of what I say by helping you do so. Ah, my little brownie, if you can do that, there is nothing I won't give you except my soul. Then let me alone rejoin the dwarf, and I promise you that in very few months you shall be the master of the farm and of Barbake. But how are you going to do it, exclaimed Jagu, wonderingly? That is my affair. Perhaps I may tell you later. Meanwhile, you just eat and sleep, and don't worry yourself about anything. Jagu declared that nothing could be easier, and then taking off his hat, he thanked the dwarf heartily and led his horses back to the farm. Next morning was a holiday, and Barbake was awake earlier than usual, as she wished to get through her work as soon as possible and be ready to start for a dance which was to be held some distance off. She went first to the cowhouse, which it was her duty to keep clean, but to her amazement she found fresh straw put down, the racks filled with hay, the cows milked, and the pails standing neatly in a row. Of course, Jagu must have done this in the hope of my giving him a dance, she thought to herself, and when she met him outside the door, she stopped and thanked him for his help. To be sure, Jagu only replied roughly that he didn't know what she was talking about, but this answer made her feel all the more certain that it was he and nobody else. The same thing took place every day, and never had the cowhouse been so clean, nor the cows so fat. Morning and evening Barbake found her earthen pots full of milk and a pound of butter freshly churned, ornamented with leaves. At the end of a few weeks she grew so used to the state of affairs that she only got up just in time to prepare breakfast. Soon even this grew to be unnecessary, for a day arrived when coming downstairs she discovered that the house was swept, the furniture polished, the fire lit, and the food ready, so that she had nothing to do except to ring the great bell which summoned the laborers from the fields to come and eat it. This also she thought was the work of Jagu, and she could not help feeling that a husband of this sort would be very useful to a girl who liked to lie in bed and to amuse herself. Indeed, Barbake had only to express a wish for it to be satisfied. If the wind was cold or the sun was hot, and she was afraid to go out lest her complexion should be spoiled, she need only to run down to the spring close by and say softly, I should like my churns to be full, and my wet linen to be stretched on the hedge to dry, and she need never give another thought to the matter. If she found the rye bread too hard to bake, or the oven taking too long to heat, she just murmured, I should like to see my six loaves on the shelf above the bed box, and two hours after they were there. If she was too lazy to walk all the way to market along a dirty road, she would say out loud the night before, why am I not already back from Morley with my milk pot empty, my butter bowl inside it, a pound of wild cherries on my wooden plate, and the money I have gained in my apron pocket, and in the morning when she got up, lo and behold, there standing at the foot of her bed was the empty milk pot with the butter bowl inside, the black cherries on her wooden plate, and six new pieces of silver in the pocket of her apron, and she believed that all this was owing to Jaegu, and she could no longer do without him even in her thoughts. When things had reached this pass, the brownie told the young man that he had better asked Barbake to marry him, and that this time the girl did not turn rudely away, but listened patiently to the end. In her eyes he was as ugly and awkward as ever, but he would certainly make a most useful husband, and she could sleep every morning till breakfast time just like a young lady, and as for the rest of the day, it would not be half long enough for her to do all she meant to do. She would wear the beautiful dresses that came when she wished for them, and visited neighbors who would be dying of envy all the while, and she would be able to dance as much as she wished. Jaegu would always be there to work for her, and save for her, and watch over her. So, like a well brought up girl, Barbake answered that it should be as her father pleased, knowing quite well that old Ryu had often said that after he was dead there was no one so capable of carrying on the farm. The marriage took place the following month, and a few days later the old man died quite suddenly. Now Jaegu had everything to see to himself, and somehow it did not seem so easy as when the farmer was alive. But once more the brownie stepped in and was better than ten laborers. It was he who plowed, and sowed, and reaped, and if, as happened occasionally, it was needful to get the work done quickly, the brownie called in some of his friends, and as soon as it was light a host of little dwarves might be seen in the fields busy with hoe, fork, or sickle. But by the time the people were all about, all was finished, and the little fellows had disappeared. And all the payment the brownie ever asked for was a bowl of broth. From the very day of her marriage Barbake had noted with surprise and rage that things ceased to be done for her as they had been done all the weeks and months before. She complained to Jaegu of his laziness, and he only stared at her not understanding what she was talking about. But the brownie, who was standing by, burst out laughing and confessed that all the good offices she spoke of had been performed by him for the sake of Jaegu. But now that he had other business to do it was high time that she looked after her house herself. Barbake was furious. Each morning she was obliged to get up before dawn to milk the cows and go to market, and each evening when she had to sit up till midnight in order to churn the butter, her heart was filled with rage against the brownie who had caused her to expect a life of ease and pleasure. But when she looked at Jaegu and beheld his red face, squinting eyes, and untidy hair, her anger was doubled. If it had not been for you, you miserable dwarf, she would say between her teeth. If it had not been for you, I should never have married that man, and I should still be going to dances where the young men would have brought me a presence of nuts and cherries and told me that I was the prettiest girl in the parish. While now I can receive no presence except from my husband, I can never dance except with my husband. Oh, you wretched dwarf, I will never, never forgive you. In spite of her fierce words, no one knew better than Barbake how to put her pride in her pocket when it suited her. And after receiving an invitation to a wedding, she begged the brownie to get her a horse to ride there. To her great joy he consented, bidding her set out for the city of the dwarves and to tell them exactly what she wanted. Full of excitement Barbake started on her journey. It was not long, and when she reached the town she went straight to the dwarves who were holding counsel in a wide green place, and said to them, Listen, my friends, I have come to beg you to lend me a black horse, with eyes, a mouth, ears, a bridle, and saddle. She had hardly spoken when the horse appeared, and mounting on his back she started for the village where the wedding was to be held. At first she was so delighted with the chance of a holiday from the work which she hated that she noticed nothing, but very soon it struck her as odd that as she passed along the roads full of people that they all laughed as they looked at her horse. At length she caught some words uttered by one man to another. Why, the farmer's wife has sold her horse's tail, and turned in her saddle. Yes, it was true, her horse had no tail. She had forgotten to ask for one, and the wicked dwarves had carried out her orders to the letter. Well, at any rate I soon shall be there, she thought, and shaking the range tried to urge the horse to a gallop. But it was of no use. He declined to move out of a walk, and she was forced to hear all the jokes that were made upon her. In the evening she returned to the farm more angry than ever, and quite determined to revenge herself on the brownie whenever she had the chance, which happened to be very soon. It was the spring, and just the time of year when the dwarves held their fet, so one day the brownie asked Shagu if he might bring his friends to have supper in the great barn, and whether he would allow them to dance there. Of course Shagu was only too pleased to be able to do anything for the brownie, and he ordered Barbak to spread her best tablecloths in the barn, and to make a quantity of little loaves and pancakes, and besides to keep all the milk given by the cows that morning. He expected she would refuse as he knew how she hated the dwarves, but she said nothing, and prepared the supper as he had bitten her. When all was ready the dwarves and new green suits came bustling in, very happy and merry, and took their seats at the table. But in a moment they all sprang up with a cry and ran away screaming for Barbak had placed pans of hot coals under their feet, and all their poor little toes were burnt. You won't forget that in a hurry, she said, smiling grimly to herself, but in a moment they were back again with large pots of water which they poured on the fire. Then they joined hands and danced round at singing. Wicked traetress, barnie Ryu, our poor toes are burned by you, now we hurry from your hall, bad luck light upon you all. That evening they left the country forever, and Shagu without their help grew poorer and poorer, and at last died of misery, while Barbak was forced to find work in the market of more lay. End of The Brownie of the Lake from the Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Laying Editor. This recording is in the public domain. Recorded by Megan Stem-Wade, July 2007.