 Chapter 26 of the Red Ferry Book There were once upon a time a king and a queen who lived happily together, and they had twelve children, all of whom were boys. One day the king said to his wife, if our thirteenth child is a girl, all her twelve brothers must die, so that she may be very rich in the kingdom hers alone. Then he ordered twelve coffins to be made, and filled them with shavings, and placed a little pillow in each. These he put away in an empty room, and giving the key to his wife, he bade her to tell no one of it. The queen grieved over the sad fate of her sons, and refused to be comforted, so much that the youngest boy, who was always with her, and whom she had christened Benjamin, said to her one day, Dear mother, why are you so sad? My child, she answered, I may not tell you the reason. But he left her no peace till she went and unlocked the room, and showed him the twelve coffins filled with shaving, and with a little pillow laid in each. Then she said, My dearest Benjamin, your father has had these coffins made for you and your eleven brothers, because if I bring a girl into the world, you are all to be killed and buried in them. She whipped bitterly as she spoke, but her son comforted her and said, Don't cry, dear mother, we'll manage to escape somehow and we'll fly for our lives. Yes, replied his mother, that is what you must do, go with your eleven brothers out into the wood, and let one of you always sit on the highest tree you can find, keeping watch on the tower of the castle. If I give birth to a little son, I will wave a white flag, and then you may safely return. But if I give birth to a little daughter, I will wave a red flag, which will warn you to fly away as quickly as you can, and may the kind heaven have pity on you. Every night I will get up and pray for you, in winter, that you may always have a fire to warm yourselves by, and in summer, that you may not languish in the heat. Then she blessed her sons, and they set out onto the road. They found a very high oak tree, and there they sat, turnabout, keeping their eyes always fixed on the castle tower. On the twelfth day, when the turn came to Benjamin, he noticed a flag waving in the air, but alas, it was not white, but blood red. The sign which told them, they must all die. When the brothers heard this, they were very angry, and said, Shall we forsooth suffer death for the sake of a wretched girl? Let us wear vengeance, and vow that, wherever and whenever we shall meet one of her sex, she shall die at our hands. Then they went their way deeper into the wood, and in the middle of it, where it was thickest and darkest, they came upon a little enchanted cottage, which stood empty. Here they said, Let us take up our abode, and you, Benjamin, you are the youngest and weakest, you shall stay at home and keep house for us. So they went forth into the woods, and shot hares, and roe deer, birds, and wood-pedons, and any other game they came across. They always brought their spoils home to Benjamin, who soon learned to make them into dainty dishes. So they lived for ten years in this little house, and at times slipped merely away. In the meantime their little sister at home was growing up very quickly. She was kind-hearted and a fair countenance, and she had gold star right in the middle of her forehead. One day a big washing was going on at the palace, and the girl looking down from her window saw twelve men's shirts hanging up to dry, and asked her mother, Who in the world do these shirts belong to? Surely they are far too small for my father. And the queen answered sadly, Dear child, they belong to your twelve brothers. But where are my twelve brothers? said the girl. I have never even heard of them. Heaven alone knows in what part of the wide world they are wandering, replied her mother. Then she took the girl and opened the locked-up room. She showed her the twelve coffins, photo shavings, and with little pillow laid in each. These coffins, she said, were intended for your brothers, but they still secretly away before you were born. Then she to tell her all that had happened. And when she had finished, her daughter said, Do not cry, dearest mother, I will go and seek my brothers till I find them. So she took the twelve shirts and went on straight into the middle of the big wood. She walked all day long, and came into the evening with a little enchanted house. She stepped in and found a youth who, marveling at her beauty, at the row of robes she wore, and at the golden star on her forehead after where she had come from and with her she was going. I am a princess, she answered, and am seeking for my twelve brothers, I mean to wander as far as the blue sky stretches over the earth till I find them. When she showed him the twelve shirts, which she had taken with her, and Benjamin saw that it must be a sister and said, I am Benjamin, your youngest brother. So they wept for joy, and kissed, and hugged each other, and again and again. After time, Benjamin said, Dear sister, there's still a little difficulty, for we had all agreed that any girl we meet should die at our hands, because it was for the sake of a girl that we had to leave our kingdom. But she replied, I will gladly die if, by that means, I can restore my twelve brothers to their own. No, he answered, there is no need for that, only go and hide under that tub till our eleven brothers come in, and I'll soon make matters right with them. She did as she was bid, and soon the others came home from the chase and sat down to supper. Well, Benjamin, what's the news? They asked, but he replied, I like that. Have you nothing to tell me? No, they answered. Then he said, Well, now, you've been out in the wood all the day, and I stayed quietly at home, and all the same I know more than you do. Then tell us, they cried. But he answered, only on one condition, that you promise faithfully that the first girl we meet shall not be killed. She shall be spared, they promised. Only tell us the news. Then Benjamin said, Our sister is here, and he lifted up the tub, and the princess stepped forward with her royal robes, and with the golden star in her forehead, looking so lovely and sweet and charming that they all fell in love with her on the spot. She arranged that she should stay at home with Benjamin and help him in the housework, while the rest of the brothers went out into the wood and shot hairs and roe deer, birds and wood pigeons. And Benjamin and his sister cooked their meals for them. She gathered herbs to cook the vegetables in, fetch the wood, and watched the pots on the fire, and always when her eleven brothers returned, she had their supper ready for them. Besides this, she kept the house in order, tidied all the rooms, and made herself so generally useful that her brothers were delighted, and they all lived happily together. One day the two at home prepared a fine feast, and when they were all assembled they sat down, and ate and drank, and made merry. Now there was a little garden round the enchanted house, in which grew twelve tall lilies. The girl wishing to please her brothers plucked the twelve flowers, meaning to present one to each of them as they sat at supper. But hardly had she plucked the flowers when her brothers were turned into twelve ravens, who flew croaking over the wood, and the house and garden vanished also. So the poor girl found herself left all alone in the wood, and as she looked around her, she noticed an old woman standing close beside her, who said, My child, what have you done? Why didn't you leave the flowers alone? They were your twelve brothers, and now they are changed forever into ravens. The girl asked, sobbing, Is there no means of setting them free? No, said the old woman, There was only one way in the world, and that is so difficult, that you wouldn't free them by it. Or you would have to be dumb and not laugh for seven years, and if you spoke a single word, though but an hour were wanting to the time, your silence would have all been in vain, and that one word would slay your brothers. Then the girl said to herself, If that is all I am quite sure I can free my brothers, so she searched for a high tree, and when she had found one, she climbed up it and spun all day long, never laughing or speaking one word. Not half in one day that a king who was hunting in the wood had a large greyhound who ran sniffing to the tree on which the girl sat, and jumped round it, yelping and barking furiously. And the king's attention was attracted, and when he looked up and beheld the beautiful princess with the golden star on her forehead, he was so enchanted by her beauty that he asked her on the spot to be his wife. She gave no answer, but nodded slightly with her head. Then he climbed up the tree himself, lifted her down, put her on his horse, and bore her home to his palace. The marriage was celebrated with a much pomp and ceremony, but the bride neither spoke nor laughed. When they had lived a few years happily together, the king's mother, who was a wicked old woman, began to slander the young queen and said to the king, She is only a low-born beggar made that she would have married. Who knows what mischief she is up to? If she is deaf and can't speak, she might at least laugh. Depend upon it. Those who don't laugh have a bad conscience. At first the king paid no heed to her words, but the old woman harped so long on the subject and accused the young queen of so many bad things that at last he let himself be talked over and condemned his beautiful wife to death. So a great fire was lit in the courtyard of the palace where she was to be burnt, and the king watched the proceedings from an upper window crying bitterly the while, for he still loved his wife dearly. But just as she had been bound to the stake and the flames were licking her garments with their red tongues, the very last moment of the seven years had come. Then a sudden rushing sound was heard in the air, and twelve ravens were seen flying overhead. They swooped downward, and as soon as they touched the ground they turned into her twelve brothers, and she knew that she had freed them. They quenched the flames and put out the fire, and unbinding their dishes to her from the stake, they kissed and hugged her again and again. And now that she was able to open her mouth and speak, she told the king why she had been dumb and not able to laugh. The king rejoiced greatly when he heard she was innocent, and they all lived happily ever afterwards. Once upon a time there lived a man and his wife who were very unhappy because they had no children. These good people had a little window at the back of their house, which looked into the most lovely garden, full of all manner of beautiful flowers and vegetables. But the garden was surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to enter it, for it belonged to a wretch of great power who was feared by the whole world. One day the woman stood at the window overlooking the garden, and saw there a bed full of the finest rampion. The leaves looked so fresh and green that she longed to eat them. The desire grew day by day, and just because she knew she couldn't possibly get any, she pined away and became quite pale and wretched. Then her husband grew alarmed and said, What tells you, dear wife? Oh, she answered, if I don't get some rampion to eat out of the garden behind the house, I know I shall die. The man who loved her dearly thought to himself, Come, rather than let your wife die, you shall fetch her some rampion, no matter the cost. So at dusk he climbed over the wall into the witch's garden, and hastily gathering a handful of rampion leaves, he returned with them to his wife. She made them into a salad which tasted so good that her longing for the forbidden food was greater than ever. If she were to know any peace of mind there was nothing for it, but that her husband should climb over the garden wall again, and fetch her some more. So at dusk over he got, but when he reached the other side he drew back in terror, for there standing before him was the old witch. How dare you! she said, with a wrathful glance, Came into my garden and steal my rampion like a common thief. You shall suffer for your foolhardiness. Oh! he implored, pardon my presumption, Necessity alone drove me to the deed. My wife saw your rampion from her window, and conceived such a desire for it that she would certainly have died if her wish had not been gratified. Then the witch's anger was a little appeased, and she said, If it's as you say you may take as much rampion away with you as you like, but on one condition only, that you give me the child your wife will shortly bring into the world. All shall go well with it, and I will look after it like a mother. The man in his terror agreed to everything she asked, and as soon as the child was born the witch appeared, and having given it the name of Rapunzel, which is the same as rampion, she carried it off with her. Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old the witch shut her up in a tower in the middle of a great wood, and the tower had neither stairs nor doors, only high up at the very top a small window. When the old witch wanted to get in she stood underneath and called out, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair! For Rapunzel had wonderful long hair, and it was as fine as spun gold. After she heard the witch's voice she unleashed her plates, and let her hair fall down out of the window about twenty yards below, and the old witch climbed up by it. After they had lived like this for a few years it happened one day that a prince was riding through the wood and passed by the tower. As he drew near it he heard someone singing so sweetly that he stood still, spellbound, and listened. It was Rapunzel in her loneliness trying to wile away the time by letting her sweet voice ring out into the wood. The prince longed to see the owner of the voice, but he saw it in vein for a door in the tower. He rode home, but he was so haunted by the song he had heard that he returned every day to the wood and listened. One day when he was standing thus behind a tree he saw the old witch approach and heard her call out, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair. Then Rapunzel let down her plates and the witch climbed up by them. So that's the staircase is it, said the prince, then I too will climb it and try my luck. So on the following day at dusk he went to the foot of the tower and cried, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair. As soon as she had let it down the prince climbed up. At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man came in, for she had never seen one before, but the prince spoke to her so kindly and told her at once that his heart had been so touched by her singing that he felt he should know no peace of mind till he had seen her. Very soon Rapunzel forgot her fear, and when he asked her to marry him she consented at once. For, she thought, he is young and handsome, and I will certainly be happier with him than with the old witch. So she put her hand in his and said, Yes, I will gladly go with you, only how am I to get out of the tower? Every time you come to see me you must bring a skein of silk with you and I will make a ladder of them, and when it is finished I will climb down by it, and you will take me away on your horse. They arranged that till the ladder was ready he was to come to her every evening because the old woman was with her during the day. The old witch, of course, knew nothing of what was going on till one day Rapunzel, not thinking of what she was about, turned to the witch and said, How is it, good mother, that you are so much harder to pull up than the young prince? He is always with me in a moment. Oh, you wicked child! cried the witch. What is this I hear? I thought I had hidden you safely from the whole world, and in spite of it you have managed to deceive me. In her wrath she seized Rapunzel's beautiful hair, wound it round and round her left hand, and then grasping a pair of scissors in her right, snip-snap off it came, and the beautiful plates lay on the ground. And worse than this she was so hard-hearted that she took Rapunzel to a lonely desert place, and there left her to live in loneliness and misery. But on the evening of the day in which she had driven the poor Rapunzel away, the witch fastened the plates onto a hook in the window, and when the prince came and called out, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair. She let them down, and the prince climbed up as usual, but instead of his beloved Rapunzel he found the old witch who fixed her evil glittering eyes on him, and cried mockingly, Ah ha! you thought to find your lady-love, but the pretty bird has flown, and its song is dumb. The cat caught it, and will scratch out your eyes, too. Rapunzel is lost to you for ever. You will never see her more. The prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he jumped right down from the tower, and, though he escaped with his life, the thorns among which he fell pierced his eyes out. Then he wandered, blind and miserable through the wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and weeping and lamenting the loss of his lovely bride. So he wandered about for some years, as wretched and unhappy as he could well be, and at last he came to the desert place where Rapunzel was living. Of a sudden he heard a voice which seemed strangely familiar to him. He walked eagerly in the direction of the sound, and when he was quite close Rapunzel recognized him and fell on his neck and wept. But two of her tears touched his eyes, and in a moment they became quite clear again, and he saw as well as he ever had done. Then he led her to his kingdom where they were received and welcomed with great joy, and they lived happily ever after. CHAPTER XXI Once upon a time there lived a Chesnoy in Flanders, a great Lord whose name was Birchard, but whom the country people called Birchard the Wolf. Now Birchard had such a wicked, cruel heart, that it was whispered how he used to harness his peasants to the plough, and force them by blows from his whip, to till his land with naked feet. His wife, on the other hand, was always tender and pitiful to the poor and miserable. Every time that she heard of another misdeed of her husbands, she secretly went to repair the evil, which caused her name to be blessed throughout the whole countryside. This Countess was adored as much as the Count was hated. PART II One day when he was out hunting the Count passed through the forest, and at the door of a lonely cottage he saw a beautiful girl spinning hemp. What's her name? He asked her. Rinaldi, my Lord, you must get tired of staying in such a lonely place. I am accustomed to it, my Lord, I never get tired of it. That may be so, but come to the castle, now I'll make you a lady's maid to the Countess. I cannot do that, my Lord. I have to look after my grandfather, who is very helpless. Come to the castle, I tell you. I shall expect you this evening, and he went on his way. But Rinaldi, who was betrothed to a young woodcutter called Gilbert, had no intention of obeying the Count, and she had, besides, to take care of her grandfather. Three days later the Count again passed by. Why didn't you come, he asked this pretty spinner. I told you, my Lord, that I have to look after my grandfather. Come tomorrow, and I will make you a lady in waiting to the Countess, and he went on his way. This offer produced no more effect than the other, and Rinaldi did not go to the castle. If you will only come, said the Count to her when he next rode by, I will send away the Countess and will marry you. But two years before, when Rinaldi's mother was dying of long illness, the Countess had not forgotten them, but had given help when they sorely needed it. So even if the Count had really wished to marry Rinaldi, she would always have refused. Part Three Some weeks passed before Bertrard appeared again. Rinaldi hoped she had got rid of him, when one day he stopped at the door, his dug gun under his arm and his game bag on his shoulder. This time Rinaldi was spinning not hump, but flags. What are you spinning? he asked in a rough voice. My wedding shift, my lord. You're going to be married then? Yes, my lord, by your leave. For at that time no peasant could marry without the leave of his master. I will give you leave on one condition. Do you see those tall nettles that grow on the tombs of the churchyard? Go and gather them, and spin them into two fine shifts. One shall be your bridal shift, and the other shall be my shroud. For you shall be married the day I am laid in my grave. And the Count turned away with a mocking laugh. Rinaldi trembled. Never in all of Lecognol had such a thing been heard of as the spinning of nettles. And besides, the Count seemed made of iron, and was very proud of his strength, often boasting that he should live to be a hundred. Every evening, when his work was done, Gilbert came to visit his future bride. First time he came as usual, and Rinaldi told him what Bertrard had said. Would you let me to watch for the wolf, and split his skull with a blow for my axe? No, replied Rinaldi. There must be no blood on my bridal bouquet. And then we must not hurt the Count. Remember how good the Countess was to my mother. An old, old woman now spoke. She was the mother of Rinaldi's grandmother, and was more than ninety years old. All day long she sat in her chair, nodding her head, and never saying a word. My children, she said, all the years that I have lived in the world, I have never heard of a shift spun from needles. But what God commands men can do. Why should not Rinaldi try it? Part Four Rinaldi did try. Into her great surprise, the nettles, when crushed and prepared, gave her good thread, soft, and light, and firm. Very soon she had spun the first shift, which was for her own wedding. She will even cut it out at once, hoping that the Count will not force her to begin the other. Just that she had finished sewing it, Birchard the wolf passed by. Well, said he, how are the shifts getting on? Here, my lord, is my wedding-garnet," answered Rinaldi, showing him the shift, which was the finest and whitest ever seen. The Count grew pale, but he replied, roughly, very good, now begin the other. The spinner set to work. As the Count returned to the castle, a cold shiver passed over him, and he felt, as the saying is, that someone was walking over his grave. He tried to eat his supper, but could not. He went to bed shaking with fever, but he did not sleep, and in the morning could not manage to rise. The sudden illness, which every instant became worse, made him very uneasy. No doubt Rinaldi's spinning wheel knew all about it. Was it not necessary that his body, as well as his tribe, should be ready for the burial? The first thing Birchard did was to send to Rinaldi and to stop her wheel. Rinaldi obeyed, and that evening, girl brought ask her, Has the Count given his consent to our marriage? No, said Rinaldi. Continue your work, sweetheart, it's the only way of gaining it. You know he told you so himself. The following morning, as soon as she had put the house in order, the girl sat down to spin. Two hours after, there arrived some soldiers, and when they saw her spinning, they seized her, tied her arms and legs, and carried her to the bank of the river, which was swollen by late rains. When they reached the bank, they flung her in, and watched her sink, after which they left her, but Rinaldi rose to the surface, and though she could not swim, she struggled to land. As soon as she got home, she sat down and began to spin. Again came two soldiers to the cottage, and seized the girl, carried her to the river bank, tied a stone to her neck, and flung her into the water. The moment their backs were turned, the stone untied itself. Rinaldi waited the ford, returned to the hut, and sat down to spin. This time, the Count resolved to go to Locke and Yorr himself, but as he was very weak and unable to walk, he had himself borne in the litter, and still the spinner spun. When he saw her, he fired a shot at her, as he would have fired at a wild beast. The bullet rebounded without harming the spinner, who still spun on. Burchard fell into such a violent rage that it nearly killed him. He broke the wheel into a thousand pieces, and then fell fainting on the ground. He was carried back to the castle, unconscious. The next day the wheel was mended, and the spinner sat down to spin, fearing that while she was spinning she was dying, the Count ordered that her hands should be tied, and that they should not lose sight of her for one instant. But the guards fell asleep, the bounds loosed themselves, and the spinner spun on. Burchard had every nettle rooted up for three leagues round. Scarcely had they been torn from the soil that they sewed themselves afresh and grew as you were looking at them. They sprung up even in the well-trodden floor of the cottage, and as fast as they were uprooted that this staff gathered to itself with supply of nettles, crushed, prepared, and ready for spinning. Every day Burchard grew worse, and watched as his end approached. Part 6 Moved by pity for her husband, the Countess at last found out the cause of his illness, and entreated him to allow himself to be cured, but the Count and his pride refused more than ever to give his consent to the marriage. So the lady resolved to go without his knowledge to pray for mercy from the spinner, and in the name of Rinaldi's dead mother, she besought her to spin no more. Rinaldi gave her promise, but in the evening Gilbert arrived at the cottage, seeing that the cloth was no further advanced than it had been the evening before, he inquired the reason. Rinaldi confessed that the Countess had prayed her not to let her husband die. Will he consent to our marriage? No. Let him die, then. But what will the Countess say? The Countess will understand that it is not your fault. The Count alone is guilty of his own death. Let us wait a little, perhaps his heart may be softened. So they waited for one month, for two, for six, for a year, the spinners spun no more. The Count had ceased to persecute her, but he still refused to consent to the marriage. Gilbert became impatient. The poor girl loved him with her whole soul, and she was more unhappy than she had ever been before when Bertrand was only tormenting her body. Let us have it done with, said Gilbert. Wait a little, still, pleaded Rinaldi, but the young men were eerie. He came more rarely to Lycogneal, and very soon he did not come at all. Rinaldi felt as if her heart would break, but she held firm. One day she met the Count. She clasped her hands as if in prayer and cried, My Lord, have mercy! Bertrand the wolf turned away his head and passed on. She might have humbled his pride had she gone to her spinning-wheel again, but she did nothing of the sort. Not long after she learned that Gilbert had left the country. He did not even come to say good-bye to her, but all the same she knew the day and hour of his departure and hit herself on the road to see him once more. When she came in she put her silent wheel into a corner, and cried for three days and three nights. Chapter 7 So another year went by. Then the Count fell ill and the Count had supposed that Rinaldi, weary of waiting, had begun her spinning anew, but when she came to the cottage to see, she found the wheel silent. However, the Count grew worse and worse, till he was given up by the doctors. The passing bell was rung, and he lay expecting death to come for him. But death was not so near as the doctors thought, and still he lingered. He seemed in a desperate condition, but he got neither better nor worse. He could neither live nor die. He suffered horribly and called loudly on death to put an end to his pains. In this extremity he remembered what he had told the litter spinner long ago. If death was so slow in coming it was because he was not ready to follow him, having no shroud for his burial. He sent to fetch Rinaldi, placed her by his bedside, and ordered her at once to go on spinning his shroud. Rinaldi had the spinner begun to work when the Count began to feel his pains grow less. Then at last his heart melted. He was sorry for all the evil he had done out of pride, and implored Rinaldi to forgive him. So Rinaldi forgave him and went on spinning night and day. When the thread of the nettles was spun she rode it with her shuttle and cut the shroud and began to sew it. And as before when she sewed, the Count felt his pains grow less and the life sinking within him, and when the needle made the last stitch he gave a last sigh. CH DENLIN. End of CHAPTER XXVIII THE NETTLE SPINNER. FARMER WEATHER BEARD. There was, once upon a time, a man and a woman who had an only son, and he was called Jack. The woman thought that it was his duty to go out to service, and told her husband that he was to take him somewhere. You must get him such a good place that he will become master of all masters, she said. And then she put some food and a roll of tobacco into a bag for them. Well, they went to a great many masters, but all said that they could make the lad as good as they were themselves, but better than that, they could not make him. When the man came home to the old woman with this answer she said, I shall be equally well pleased whatever you do with him, but this I do say, that you are to have him made a master over all masters. Then she once more put some food and a roll of tobacco into the bag, and the man and his son had to set out again. When they had walked some distance they got upon the ice, and there they met a man in a carriage who was driving a black horse. Where you going, he said. I have to go and get my son apprenticed to someone who will be able to teach you a trade, for my old woman comes of such well to do folk that she insists on his being taught to be master of all masters, said the man. We are not ill-met, then, said the man who was driving, for I am the kind of man who can do that, and I am just looking out for such an apprentice. Get it behind with you," he said to the boy, and off the horse went with them straight up into the air. No, no, wait a little, screamed the father of the boy, I ought to know what your name is and where you live. Oh, I am at home both in the north and the south, and the east and the west. I am called Farmer Weatherbeard, said the master. You may come here again any year's time, and then I will tell you if the lad suits me. And then they set off again, and were gone. When the man got home the old woman inquired what had become of the sum. Ah, heaven only knows what has become of him, said the man. They went up aloft, and then he told her what had happened. But when the woman heard that, and found that the man did not at all know, either when their son would be out of his apprenticeship, or where he had gone, she packed him off again to find out, and gave him a bag of food and a roll of tobacco to take away with him. When he had walked for some time he came to a great wood, and it stretched before him all day long as he went on. And when night began to fall he saw a great light, and went towards it. After a long, long time he came to a small hut at the foot of a rock, outside which an old woman was standing, drawing water up from a well with her nose. It was so long. Good evening, mother, said the man. Good evening to you too, said the old woman. No one has called me mother this hundred years. Can I lodge here tonight, said the man? No, said the woman. But the man took out his roll of tobacco, lighted a little of it, and then gave her a whiff. Then she was so delighted that she began to dance. And thus the man got leave to stay the night there. It was not long before he asked about Farmer Weatherbeard. She said that she knew nothing about him, but that she ruled over all the four-footed beasts, and some of them might know him. So she gathered them all together by blowing a whistle which she had, and questioned them. But there was not one of them which knew anything about Farmer Weatherbeard. Well, said the old woman, there are three of us sisters. It may be that one of the other two knows where he is to be found. You shall have the loan of my horse and carriage, and then you will get there by night. But her house is three hundred miles off. Go the nearest way, you will. The man set out, and got there at night. When he arrived, this old woman also was standing, drying water out of the well with her nose. Good evening, mother, said the man. Good evening to you, said the old woman. No one has called me mother this hundred years. When I lodge here to-night, said the man, no, said the old woman. Then he took out the roll of tobacco, took a whiff, and gave the old woman some snuff on the back of her hand. Then she was so delighted that she began to dance, and the man got leave to stay all night. It was not long before he begun to ask about Farmer Weatherbeard. She knew nothing about him, but she ruled over all the fishes, she said, and perhaps some of them might know something. Also she gathered them all together, and blowing a whistle which she had, and questioned them. But there was not one of them which knew anything about Farmer Weatherbeard. Well, said the old woman, I have another sister, perhaps she may know something about him. She lives six hundred miles off, but you shall have my horse and carriage, and then you will get there by nightfall. So the man set off, and he got there by nightfall. The old woman was standing, raking the fire, and she was doing it with her nose so long it was. Good evening, mother, said the man. Good evening to you, said the woman. No one has called me mother this hundred years. Can I lodge here to-night, said the man? No, said the old woman. But the man pulled out his roll of tobacco again, and filled his pipe with some of it, and gave the old woman enough snuff to cover the back of her hand. Then she was so delighted that she began to dance, and the man got leave to stay in her house. It was not long before he asked about Farmer Weatherbeard. She knew nothing at all about him, she said, but she governed all the birds, and she gathered them together with her whistle. When she questioned them all, the eagle was not there, but it came soon afterwards, and when asked it said that it had just come from Farmer Weatherbeards, then the old woman said that it was to guide the man to him. But the eagle would have something to eat first, and then it wanted to wait until the next day, for it was so tired with the long journey that it was scarcely able to rise from the earth. When the eagle had had plenty of food and rest, the old woman plucked a feather out of its tail and set the man in the feather's place, and then the bird flew away with him, but they did not get to Farmer Weatherbeards before midnight. When they got there the eagle said, there are great many dead bodies lying outside the door, but you must not concern yourself about them. The people who are inside the house are all so sound asleep that it will not be easy to awake them, but you must go straight to the table drawer and take out three bits of bread, and if you hear anyone snoring, pluck three feathers from his head. He will not waken for that. The man did this. When he got the bits of bread he first plucked out one feather. Oof! Screamed Farmer Weatherbeard. So the man plucked out another, and then Farmer Weatherbeard shrieked, Oof! Again! But when the man had plucked the third, Farmer Weatherbeard screamed so loudly that the man thought that the brick-and-mortar would be rent in twain, but for all that he went on sleeping, and now the eagle told the man what he was to do next, and he did it. He went to the stable door, and there he stumbled upon a hard stone which he picked up, and beneath it lay three splinters of wood which he also picked up. He knocked at the stable door, and it opened it once. He threw down the three little bits of bread, and a hair came out and ate them. He caught the hair. Then the eagle told him to pluck three feathers out of its tail, and put in the hair, the stone, the splinters of wood, and himself instead of them, and then he would be able to carry them all home. When the eagle had flown a long way, it alighted upon a stone. Do you see anything it asked? Yes, I see a flock of crows coming flying after us, said the man. Then we shall do well to fly on a little farther, said the eagle, and off it set. In a short time it asked again, do you see anything now? Yes, now the crows are closed behind us, said the man. Then throw down the three feathers which you plucked out of his head, said the eagle. So the man did this, and no sooner than he had flung them down, then the feathers became a flock of ravens, which chased the crows home again. Then the eagle flew on much farther with the man. But at length it alighted on a stone for a while. Do you see anything it said? I am not quite certain, said the man. But I think I see something coming in the far distance. Then we shall do well to fly on a little farther, said the eagle, and away it went. Do you see anything now, it said? After some time had gone by. Yes, they are close behind us, said the man. Then throw down the splinters of wood which you took from beneath the gray stone by the stable doors, said the eagle. The man did this, and no sooner had he flung them down, then they grew into a great thick wood, and farmer weather-beard had to go home for an axe to cut his way through it. So the eagle flew on a long, long way. But then it grew tired, and sat down on a fir tree. Do you see anything it asked? Yes, I am not quite certain, said the man. But I think I can catch a glimpse of something far, far away. Then we shall do well to fly on a little farther, said the eagle, and it set off again. Do you see anything now, it said, after some time had gone by? Yes, he is close behind us now, said the man. Then you must fling down the great stone which you took away from the stable door, said the eagle. The man did so, and it turned into a great high mountain of stone which farmer weather-beard had to break his way through before he could follow them. But when he had got to the middle of the mountain he broke one of his legs and had to go home to get it put bright. While he was doing this the eagle flew off to the man's home with him, and with the hare. And when they had got home the man went to the churchyard, and had some Christian earth laid upon the hare, and then it turned into his son Jack. When the time came for the fair the youth turned himself into a light-colored horse, and bade his father go to the market with him. If anyone should come who wants to buy me, said he, you are to tell him that you want a hundred dollars for me, but you must not forget to take off the halter, for if you do I shall never be able to get away from farmer weather-beard, for he is the man who will come and bargain for me. And thus it happened. A horse-dealer came who had a great fancy to bargain for the horse, and the man got a hundred dollars for it. But when the bargain was made and Jack's father had got the money the horse-dealer wanted to have the halter. That was no part of our bargain, said the man, and the halter you shall not have, for I have other horses which I have to sell. So each of them went his way, but the horse-dealer had not got very far with Jack before he resumed his own form again, and when the man got home he was sitting on the bench by the stove. The next day he changed himself into a brown horse and told his father that he was to set off to market with him. If a man should come who wants to buy me, said Jack, you are to tell him that you want two hundred dollars for that he will give, and treat you besides, but whatsoever you drink and whatsoever you do don't forget to take the halter off me, or you will never see me more. And thus it happened. The man got his two hundred dollars for the horse, and was treated as well, and when they parted from each other it was just as much as he could do to remember to take off the halter, but the buyer had not got far on his way before the youth took his own form again, and when the man reached home Jack was already sitting on the bench by the stove. On the third day all happened the same way. The youth changed himself into a great black horse and told his father that if a man came by and offered him three hundred dollars and treated him well and handsomely into the bargain he was to sell him, but whatsoever he did, or how much soever he drank he must not forget to take off the halter, or else he himself would never get away from Farmer Weatherbeard as long as he lived. No said the man, I will not forget. When he got to the market he received the three hundred dollars, but Farmer Weatherbeard treated him so handsomely that he quite forgot to take off the halter, so Farmer Weatherbeard went away with the horse. When he had got some distance he had to go into an inn to get some more brandy, so he set a barrel full of red-hot nails under his horse's nose and a trowel filled with oats beneath its tail. And then he tied the halter fast to a hook and went away into the inn, so the horse stood there stamping and kicking and snorting and rearing. An out came a girl who thought it a sin and a shame to treat a horse so ill. Ah, poor creature! What a master you must have to treat you thus, she said, and push the halter off the hook so that the horse might turn around and eat the oats. I am here, shrieked Farmer Weatherbeard, brushing out of doors. But the horse had already shaken off the halter and flung himself into a goose pond where he changed himself into a little fish. Farmer Weatherbeard went after him and changed himself into a great pike, so Jack turned himself into a dove and Farmer Weatherbeard turned himself into a hawk and flew after the dove and struck it. But a princess was standing in a window in the king's palace watching the struggle. If thou didst but know as much as I know thou wouldst fly into me through the window, said the princess to the dove. So the dove came flying in through the window and changed itself into Jack again and told her all as it had happened. Change thyself into a gold ring and set thyself on my finger, said the princess. No, that will not do, said Jack, for then Farmer Weatherbeard will make the king fall sick, and there will be no one who can make him well again before Farmer Weatherbeard comes and cures him, and for that he will demand the gold ring. I will say that it was my mother's, and that I will not part with it, said the princess. So Jack changed himself into a gold ring and set himself on the princess's finger, and Farmer Weatherbeard could not get at him there. But then all that the youth had foretold came to pass. The king became ill. And there was no doctor who could cure him till Farmer Weatherbeard arrived, and he demanded the ring which was on the princess's finger as a reward. So the king sent a messenger to the princess for the ring. She, however, refused to part with it, because she had inherited it from her mother. When the king was informed of this, he fell into a rage and said that he would have the ring, let her have inherited it, from whom she might. Well, it is no use to be angry about it, said the princess, for I can't get it off, if you want the ring you will have to take the finger, too. I will try, and then the ring will very soon come off, said Farmer Weatherbeard. No, thank you, I will try myself, said the princess, and she went away to the fireplace and put some ashes on the ring. So the ring came off, and was lost among the ashes. Farmer Weatherbeard changed himself into a hair, which scratched and scraped about in the fireplace after the ring until the ashes were up to its ears, but Jack changed himself into a fox and bit the hair's head off, and if Farmer Weatherbeard was possessed by the evil one, all was now over with him. End of CHAPTER XXIX Once upon a time there was a widow who had two daughters. One of them was pretty and clever, and the other one, ugly and lazy. But as the ugly one was her own daughter, she liked her far the best of the two, and the pretty one had to do all the work of the house, and was in fact the regular maid of all work. Every day she had to sit by a well on the high road and spin till her fingers were so sore that they often bled. One day some drops of blood fell on her spindle, so she dipped it into the well, meaning to wash it. But as luck would have it, it dropped from her hand and fell right in. She ran weeping to her stepmother and told her what had happened. But she scolded her harshly and was so merciless in her anger that she said, Well, since you've dropped the spindle down, you must just go after it yourself, and don't let me see your face again until you bring it with you. Then the poor girl returned to the well, and not knowing what she was about, in the despair and misery of her heart, she sprang into the well and sank to the bottom. For a time she lost all consciousness, and when she came to herself again, she was lying in a lovely meadow, with the sun shining brightly overhead, and a thousand flowers blooming at her feet. She rose up and wandered through this enchanted place till she came to a baker's oven, full of bread. And the bread called out to her, as she passed, Oh, take me out, take me out, or I shall be burned to a cinder. I am quite done enough. So she stepped up quickly to the oven and took out all the loaves, one after the other. Then she went on a little farther, and came to a tree laden with beautiful rosy-cheeked apples. And as she passed by, it called out, Oh, shake me, shake me, my apples are all quite ripe. She did as she was asked, and shook the tree till the apples fell like rain, and none were left hanging. When she had gathered them all up into a heap, she went on her way again, and came at length to a little house at the door of which set an old woman. The old dame had such large teeth that the girl felt frightened, and wanted to run away. But the old woman called after her, What are you afraid of, dear child? Stay with me, and be my little maid, and if you do your work well, I will reward you handsomely. But you must be very careful how you make my bed. You must shake it well till the feathers fly. And people in the world below say it snows, for I am mother-hall. She spoke so kindly that the girl took heart and agreed readily to enter her service. She did her best to please the old woman, and shook her bed with such a will that the feathers flew about like snowflakes. So she led a very easy life, was never scolded, and lived on the fat of the land. But after she had been some time with mother-hall, she grew sad and depressed, and at first she hardly knew herself what was the matter. At last she discovered that she was home-sick. So she went to mother-hall and said, I know I am a thousand times better off here than I ever was in my life before. But notwithstanding, I have a great longing to go home, in spite of all your kindness to me. I can remain with you no longer, but must return to my own people. Your desire to go home pleases me, said mother-hall. And because you have served me so faithfully, I will show you the way back into the world myself. So she took her by the hand, and led her to an open door, and as the girl passed through it, there fell a heavy shower of gold all over her, till she was covered with it from top to toe. That's a reward for being such a good little maid, said mother-hall, and she gave her the spindle, too, that had fallen into the well. Then she shut the door, and the girl found herself back in the world again, not far from her own house, and when she came to the courtyard, the old hen, who sat on the top of the wall, called out, Click, clock, clock, our golden maids come back. Then she went in to her stepmother, and as she had returned covered with gold, she was welcomed home. She proceeded to tell all that had happened to her, and when the mother heard how she had come by her riches, she was most anxious to secure the same luck for her own idle, ugly daughter. So she told her to sit at the well, and spin. In order to make her spindle bloody, she stuck her hand into a hedge of thorns, and pricked her finger. Then she threw the spindle into the well, and jumped in herself after it. Like her sister, she came to the beautiful meadow, and followed the same path. When she reached the baker's oven, the bread called out as before, Oh, take me out, take me out, or I shall be burned to a cinder. I am quite done enough. But the good-for-nothing girl answered, A pretty joke indeed, just as if I should dirty my hands for you. And on she went. Soon she came to the apple tree, which cried, Oh, shake me, shake me, my apples are all quite ripe. I'll see myself farther, she replied, one of them might fall on my head. And so she pursued her way. When she came to Mother Hall's house, she wasn't the least afraid, for she had been warned about her big teeth, and she readily agreed to become her maid. The first day she worked very hard, and it all her mistress told her, for she thought of the gold she would give her. But on the second day, she began to be lazy, and on the third, she wouldn't even get up in the morning. She didn't make Mother Hall's bed as she ought to have done, and never shook it enough to make the feathers fly. So her mistress soon grew weary of her, and dismissed her, much to the lazy creature's delight. For now, she thought, the shower of golden rain will come. Mother Hall led her to the same door as she had done her sister. But when she passed through it, instead of the gold rain, a kettle full of pitch came showering over her. That's a reward for your service, said Mother Hall, and she closed the door behind her. So the lazy girl came home all covered with pitch. And when the old hand on the top of the wall saw her, it called out, Click, clock, clock, how dare these lads come back? But the pitch remained sticking to her, and never, as long as she lived, could it be got off. CHAPTER XXXI of the Red 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 Alanna Jordan. The Red Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. CHAPTER XXXI. Minnican. There was, once upon a time, a couple of needy folk who lived in a wretched hut, in which there was nothing but black want. So they had neither food to eat nor wood to burn. But if they had next to nothing, of all else, they had the blessing of God, so far as children were concerned, and every year brought them one more. The man was not over-pleased at this. He was always going about grumbling and growling, and saying that it seemed to him that there might be such a thing as having too many of these good gifts. So shortly before another baby was born, he went away into the wood for some firewood, saying that he did not want to see the new child. He would hear him quite soon enough when he began to squall for some food. As soon as this baby was born, it began to look about the room. Ah, my dear mother said he, give me some of my brother's old clothes and food enough for a few days, and I will go out into the world and seek my fortune, for, so far as I can see, you have children enough. Heaven help thee, my son, said the mother. That will never do, thou art still far too little. But the little creature was determined to do it, and begged and prayed, so long that the mother was forced to let him have some old rags, and tie up a little food for him, and then gaily and happily he went out into the world. But almost before he was out of the house another boy was born, and he too looked about him and said, Ah, my dear mother, give me some of my brother's old clothes and food for some days, and then I will go out into the world and find my twin brother, for you have children enough. Heaven help thee, little creature, thou art far too little for that, said the woman. It would never do. But she spoke to no purpose, for the boy begged and prayed until he had got some old rags and a bundle of provisions, and then he set out manfully into the world to find his twin brother. When the younger had walked for some time he caught sight of his brother a short distance in front of him, and called to him, and bade him to stop. Wait a minute, he said, you are walking as if for a wager, but you ought to have stayed to see your younger brother before you hurried off into the world. So the elder stood still and looked back, and when the younger had got up to him, and had told him that he was his brother, he said, but now let us sit down and see what kind of food our mother has given us, and that they did. When they had walked on a little farther they came to a brook which ran through a green meadow, and there the younger said that they ought to christen each other, as we had to make such haste and had no time to do it at home, we may as well do it here, said he. What will you be called? asked the elder. I will be called Minnican, answered the second, and you, what will you be called? I will be called King Pippin, answered the elder. They christened each other, and then went onwards. When they had walked for some time they came to a crossway, and there they agreed to part, and each take his own road. This they did, but no sooner had they walked a short distance than they met again. So they parted once more, and each took his own road, but in a very short time the same thing happened again. They met each other before they were at all aware, and so it happened the third time also. Then they arranged with each other that each should choose his own quarter, and one should go east, and the other west. But if you ever fall into any need or trouble, said the elder, call me thrice, and I will come and help you. Only you must not call me until you are in the utmost need. In that case we shall not see each other for some time, said Minnican, so they bade farewell to each other, and Minnican went east, and King Pippin went west. When Minnican had walked a long way alone, he met an old, old, crook-backed hag, who had only one eye. Minnican stole it. Oh, oh, cried the hag, what has become of my eye? What will you give me to get your eye back, said Minnican? I will give thee a sword, which is such a sword that it can conquer a whole army. Let it be ever so great, replied the woman. Let me have it then, said Minnican. The old hag gave him the sword, so she got her eye back. Then Minnican went onwards, and when he had wandered on for some time he again met an old, old, crook-backed hag, who had only one eye. Minnican stole it before she was aware. Oh, oh, what has become of my eye, cried the old hag? What will you give me to get your eye back, said Minnican? I will give thee a ship, which can sail over fresh water and salt water, over high hills and deep dales, answered the old woman. Let me have it then, said Minnican. So the old woman gave him a little bit of a ship, which was no bigger than he could put in his pocket. And then she got her eye back. And she went her way, and Minnican his. When he had walked on for a long time he met for the third time an old, old, crook-backed hag, who had only one eye. This eye also Minnican stole. And when the woman screamed and lamented and asked what had become of her eye, Minnican said, what will you give me to get your eye back? I will give thee the art to brew a hundred lasts of malt in one brewing. So for teaching that art the old hag got her eye back, and they both went away by different roads. But when Minnican had walked a short distance it seemed to him that it might be worthwhile to see what his ship could do. So he took it out of his pocket, and first he put one foot into it, and then the other, and no sooner had he put one foot into the ship that it became much larger. And when he set the other foot into it it grew as large as ships that sail on the sea. Then Minnican said, now go over fresh water and salt water, over high hills and deep dales, and do not stop until thou comest to the king's palace. And in an instant the ship went away as swiftly as any bird in the air, till it got just below the king's palace, and there it stood still. From the windows of the king's palace many persons had seen Minnican come sailing thither, and had stood to watch him. And they were all so astounded that they ran down to see what manner of man this could be who came sailing in a ship through the air. But when they were running down from the king's palace Minnican had got out of the ship, and had put it in his pocket again. For the moment he got out of it it once more became as small as it had been when he got it from the old woman. And those who came from the king's palace could see nothing but a ragged little boy who was standing down by the seashore. The king asked, where had he come from? But the boy said he did not know. Nor yet could he tell them how he had got there. But he begged very earnestly and pridly for a place in the king's palace. If there was nothing else for him to do he said he would fetch wood and water for the kitchen maid, and that he obtained leave to do. When Minnican went up to the king's palace he saw that everything there was hung with black both outside and inside, from the bottom to the top, so he asked the kitchen maid what that meant. Oh, I will tell you that, answered the kitchen maid. The king's daughter was long ago promised away to three trolls, and next Thursday evening one of them is come to fetch her. Ritter Red has said that he will be able to set her free, but who knows whether he will be able to do it. So you may easily imagine what grief and distress we are in here. So when Thursday evening came, Ritter Red accompanied the princess to the seashore. For there she was to meet the troll, and Ritter Red was to stay with her and protect her. He, however, was very unlikely to do the troll much injury, for no sooner had the princess seated herself by the seashore than Ritter Red climbed up into a great tree which was standing there and hid himself as well as he could among the branches. The princess wept and begged him most earnestly not to go and leave her, but Ritter Red did not concern himself about that. It is better that one should die than two, said he. In the meantime, Minnican begged the kitchen maid very pridly to give him leave to go down to the Strand for a short time. Oh, what could you do down at the Strand, said the kitchen maid? You have nothing to do there. Oh yes, my dear, just let me go, said Minnican. I should so like to go and amuse myself with the other children. Well, well, go then, said the kitchen maid, but don't let me find you staying there over the time when the pan has to be set on the fire for supper and the roast put on the spit, and mind you bring back a good big armful of wood for the kitchen. Minnican promised this and ran down to the seashore. Just as he got to the place where the king's daughter was sitting, the troll came rushing up with a great whistling and roaring, and he was so big and stout that he was terrible to see, and he had five heads. Fire! screeched the troll. Fire yourself, said Minnican. Can you fight, roared the troll? If not, I can learn, said Minnican. So the troll struck at him with a great, thick iron bar which he had in his fist till the sods flew five yards up into the air. Five! said Minnican. That was not much of a blow. Now you shall see one of mine. So he grasped the sword which he had got from the old crook-backed woman and slashed at the troll so that all five heads went flying away over the sands. When the princess saw that she was delivered, she was so delighted that she did not know what she was doing and skipped and danced. Come and sleep a bit with your head in my lap, she said to Minnican, and as he slept she put a golden dress on him. But when Ritter Red saw that there was no longer any danger of foot, he lost no time in creeping down from the tree. He then threatened the princess, until at length she was forced to promise to say that it was he who had rescued her, for he had told her that if she did not he would kill her. Then he took the troll's lungs and tongue and put them in his pocket-hankerchief, and led the princess back to the king's palace, and whatsoever had been lacking to him in the way of honor before was lacking no longer, for the king did not know how to exalt him enough, and always set him on his own right hand at table. As for Minnican, first he went out on the troll's ship, and took a great quantity of gold and silver hoops away with him, and then he trotted back to the king's palace. When the kitchen maid caught sight of all this gold and silver, she was quite amazed and said, my dear friend Minnican, where have you got all that from? For she was half afraid that he had not come by it honestly. Oh, answered Minnican, I have been home a while, and these hoops had fallen off some of our buckets, so I brought them away with me for you. So when the kitchen maid heard that they were for her, she asked no more questions about the manner. She thanked Minnican, and everything was right again at once. Next Thursday evening all went just the same, and everyone was full of grief and affliction, but Ritter Redd said that he had been able to deliver the king's daughter from one troll so that he could very easily deliver her from another, and he led her down to the seashore. But he did not do much harm to this troll either, for when the time came, when the troll might be expected, he said as he had said before. It is better that one should die than two, and he climbed up into the tree again. Minnican once more begged the cook's leave to go down to the seashore for a short time. Well, what can you do there? said the cook. My dear, do let me go, said Minnican. I should like to go down there and amuse myself a little with the other children. So this time also she said that he should have leave to go, but he must first promise that he would be back by the time the joint was turned, and that he would bring a great armful of wood with him. No sooner had Minnican got down to the strand than the troll came rushing along with a great whistling and roaring, and he was thrice as big as the first troll, and he had ten heads. Fire, shrieked the troll. Fire yourself, said Minnican. Can you fight, roared the troll? If not, I can learn, said Minnican. So the troll struck at him, with his iron club, which was bigger than that which the first troll had had, so that the earth flew ten yards up in the air. Fire, said Minnican, that was not much of a blow. Now you shall see one of my blows. And he grasped his sword, and struck at the troll so that all his ten heads danced away over the sands. And again the king's daughter said to him, sleep a while on my lap, and while Minnican lay there she drew some silver rainment over him. As soon as Ritter Redd saw that there was no longer any danger of foot, he crept down from the tree and threatened the princess, till at last she was again forced to promise to say that it was he who had rescued her, after which he took the tongue and the lungs of the troll and put them in his pocket-hanker-chiff, and then he conducted the princess back to the palace. There was joy and gladness in the palace as it may be imagined, and the king did not know how to show enough honor and respect to Ritter Redd. Minnican, however, took home with him an armful of gold and silver hoops from the troll's ship. When he came back to the king's palace the kitchen maid clapped her hands and wondered where he could have got all that gold and silver, but Minnican answered that he had been home for a short time, and that it was only the hoops which had fallen off some pails, and that he had brought them away for the kitchen maid. When the third Thursday evening came everything happened exactly as it has happened on the two former occasions. Everything in the king's palace was hung with black, and everyone was sorrowful and distressed. But Ritter Redd said that he did not think that they had much reason to be afraid. He had delivered the king's daughter from two trolls, so he could easily deliver her from the third as well. He let her down to the strand. But when the time drew near for the troll to come he climbed up into the tree again and hid himself. The princess wept and entreated him to stay, but all to no purpose he stuck to his old speech. It is better that one life should be lost than two. This evening also Minnican begged for leave to go down to the seashore. Oh, what can you do there? answered the kitchen maid. However he begged, until at last he got leave to go. But he was forced to promise that he would be back again in the kitchen when the roast had to be turned. And almost immediately after he had got down to the seashore the troll came with a great whizzing and whirring. And he was much, much bigger than either of the two former ones. And he had fifteen heads. Fire, roared the troll. Fire yourself, said Minnican. Can you fight, screamed the troll? If not I can learn, said Minnican. I will teach you, yelled the troll, and struck at him with his iron club, so that the earth flew up fifteen yards high into the air. Fie, said Minnican, that was not much of a blow. Now I will let you see one of my blows. So saying he grasped the sword and cut at the troll in such a way that all his fifteen heads danced away over the sands. Then the princess was delivered and she thanked Minnican and blessed him for saving her. I'll sleep a while now on my lap, said she. And while he lay there she put a garment of brass upon him. But now how shall we have made it known that it was you who saved me, said the king's daughter? That I will tell you, answered Minnican, when Ritter Red has taken you home again and given out that it was he who rescued you, he will, as you know, have you to wife, and have the kingdom. But when they ask you on your wedding day, whom you will have to be your cup-bearer, you must say, I will have the ragged boy who is in the kitchen and carries wood and water for the kitchen-maid. And when I am filling your cups for you, I will spill a drop upon his plate, but none upon yours, and then he will be angry and strike me, and this will take place thrice. But the third time you must say, shame on you, thus to spite the beloved of mine heart. It is he who delivered me from the troll, and he is the one whom I will have. Then Minnican ran back to the king's palace as he had done before, but first he went on board the troll's ship, and took a great quantity of gold and silver and other precious things, and out of these he once more gave to the kitchen-maid a whole armful of gold and silver hoops. No sooner did Ritter Ridd see that all danger was over than he crept down from the tree and threatened the king's daughter till he made her promise to say that he had rescued her. Then he conducted her back to the king's palace, and if honor enough had not been done to him before it was certainly done now, for the king had no other thought than how to make much of the man who had saved his daughter from the three trolls, and it was settled then that Ritter Ridd should marry her and receive half the kingdom. On the wedding-day, however, the princess begged that she might have the little boy who was in the kitchen and carried wood and water for the kitchen-maid to fill the wine-cups at the wedding feast. Oh, what can you want with that dirty ragged boy in here, said Ritter Ridd? But the princess said that she insisted on having him as cup-bearer and would have no one else, and at last she got leave, and then everything was done as had been agreed upon between the princess and Minnican. He spilt a drop on Ritter Ridd's plate, but not upon hers, and each time that he did it Ritter Ridd fell into a rage and struck him. At the first blow all the ragged garments which he had worn in the kitchen fell off Minnican, and at the second blow the brass garments fell off, and at the third the silver rain-ment, and there he stood in the golden rain-ment which was so bright and splendid that light flashed from it. Then the king's daughter said, Shame on you, thus to spite the beloved of my heart. It is he who delivered me from the troll, and he is the one whom I will have. Ritter Ridd swore that he was the man who had saved her, but the king said, He who delivered my daughter must have some token in proof of it. So Ritter Ridd ran off at once for his handker chiff with the lungs and tongue, and Minnican went and brought all the gold and silver and precious things which he had taken out of the troll's ships, and they each of them laid these tokens before the king. He who has such precious things in gold and silver and diamond said the king must be the one who killed the troll, for such things are not to be had anywhere else. So Ritter Ridd was thrown into the snake pit, and Minnican was to have the princess and have the kingdom. One day the king went out walking with Minnican, and Minnican asked him if he had never had any other children. Yes, said the king, I had another daughter, but the troll carried her away, because there was no one who could deliver her. You are going to have wonder out of mine, but if you can set free the other, who has been taken by the troll, you shall willingly have her too, and the other half of the kingdom as well. I may as well make the attempt, said Minnican, but I must have an iron rope, which is five hundred L's long, and then I must have five hundred men with me, and provisions for five weeks, for I have a long voyage before me. So the king said he should have these things, but the king was afraid that he had no ship large enough to carry them all. But I have a ship of my own, said Minnican, and he took the one which the old woman had given him out of his pocket. The king laughed at him, and thought it was only one of his jokes, but Minnican begged him just to give him what he had asked for, and then he should see something. Then all that Minnican had asked for was brought. At first he ordered them to lay the cable in the ship, but there was no one who was able to lift it, and there was only room for one or two men at a time in the little bit of a ship. Then Minnican himself took hold of the cable and laid one or two links of it into the ship, and as he threw the links into it the ship grew bigger and bigger, and at last it was so large that the cable and the five hundred men and provisions and Minnican himself had room enough. Now go over fresh water and salt water, over hill and dale, and do not stop until thou comest to where the king's daughter is, said Minnican to the ship, and off it went in a moment over land and water, till the wind whistled and moaned all round about it. When they sailed thus a long, long way the ship stopped short in the middle of the sea. Ah, now we have got there, said Minnican, but how we are to get back again is a very different thing. Then he took the cable and tied one end of it round his body. Now I must go to the bottom, he said, but when I give a good jerk to the cable and want to come up again you must all pull like one man, or there will be an end of all life both for you and for me. So saying he sprang into the water and yellow bubbles rose up all around him. He sank lower and lower, and at last he came to the bottom. There he saw a large hill with a door in it, and in he went. When he had got inside he found the other princess sitting, sewing. But when she saw Minnican she clapped her hands. Ah, heaven be praised, she cried. I have not seen a Christian man since I came here. I have come for you, said Minnican. Alas, you will not be able to get me, said the king's daughter. It is no use even to think that if the troll catches sight of you he will take your life. You had better tell me about him, said Minnican. Where is he gone? It would be amusing to see him. So the king's daughter told Minnican that the troll was out, trying to get hold of someone who could brew a hundred lasts of malt at one brewing. For there was to be a feast at the trolls, at which less than that would not be drunk. I can do that, said Minnican. Ah, if only the troll were not so quick-tempered I might have told him that, answered the princess. But he is so ill-natured that he will tear you to pieces, I fear, as soon as he comes in. But I will try to find some way of doing it. Can you hide yourself here in the cupboard? And then we will see what happens. Minnican did this, and almost before he had crept into the cupboard and hidden himself came the troll. Huff! What a smell of Christian man's blood, said the troll. Yes, a bird flew over the roof with a Christian man's bone in his bill, and let it fall down our chimney, answered the princess. I made haste enough to get it away again. But it must be that which smells so, not withstanding. Yes, it must be that, said the troll. Then the princess asked, if he had got hold of anyone, who could brew a hundred lasts of malt at one brewing. No, there is no one who can do it, said the troll. A short time since there was a man here who said he could do it, said the king's daughter. How clever you always are, said the troll. How could you let him get away? You must have known that I was just wanting a man of that kind. Well, but I did not let him go after all, said the princess. But father is so quick-tempered, so I hid him in the cupboard. But if father has not found anyone then, the man is still here. Let him come in, said the troll. When Minnican came, the troll asked if it were true that he could brew a hundred lasts of malt at one brewing. Yes, said Minnican. It is. It is well, then, that I have lighted on thee, said the troll. Fall to work this very minute. But heaven help thee if thou dost not brew the ale strong. Oh, it shall taste well, said Minnican. And it once set himself to work to brew. But I must have more trolls to help carry what is wanted, said Minnican. These that I have are good for nothing. So he got more, and so many, that there was a swarm of them, and the brewing went on. When the sweet wart was ready they were all, as a matter of course, anxious to taste it. First the troll himself and then the others. But Minnican had brewed the wart so strong that they all fell down dead like so many flies as soon as they had drunk any of it. At last there was no one but one wretched old hag who was lying behind the stove. Oh, poor old creature, said Minnican. You shall have a taste of the old wart, too, like the rest. So he went away and scooped up a little from the bottom of the brewing-vat in a milk-pan, and gave it to her. And then he was quit of the whole of them. While Minnican was now standing there looking about him, he cast his eye on a large chest. This he took and filled it with gold and silver, and then he tied the cable round himself, and the princess and the chest, and tugged at the rope with all his might, whereupon his men drew them up safe and sound. As soon as Minnican had got safely on his ship again he said, Now go over salt water and fresh water, over hill and dale, and do not stop until thou comest unto the king's palace. And in a moment the ship went off so fast that the yellow foam rose up all round about it. When those who were in the king's palace saw the ship, they lost no time in going to meet him with song and music, and thus they marched up towards Minnican with great rejoicings. But the gladdest of all was the king, for now he had got his other daughter back again. But now Minnican was not happy, for both the princesses wanted to have him, and he wanted to have none other than the one whom he had first saved, and she was the younger. For this cause he was continually walking backwards and forwards, thinking how he could contrive to get her, and yet do nothing that was unkind to her sister. One day when he was walking about and thinking of this, it came into his mind that if he only had his brother King Pippin with him, who was so like himself, that no one could distinguish the one from the other, he could let him have the elder princess, and half the kingdom. As for himself, he thought, the other half was quite enough. And soon as this thought occurred to him he went outside the palace and called for King Pippin, but no one came. So he called a second time, and a little louder. But no, still no one came. So Minnican called for the third time, and with all his might, and there stood his brother by his side. I had told you you were not to call me unless you were in the utmost need, he said to Minnican. And there is not even so much as a midge here. Who can do you any harm? And with that he gave Minnican such a blow that he rolled over in the grass. Shame on you to strike me, said Minnican. First I have won one princess and half the kingdom, and then the other princess and the other half of the kingdom, and now, when I was just thinking that I would give you one of the princesses and one of the halves of the kingdom, do you think you have any reason to give me such a blow? When King Pippin heard that he begged his brother's pardon, and they were reconciled at once, and became good friends. Now, as you know, said Minnican, we are so like each other that no one can tell us from the other. So just change clothes with me and go up to the palace, and then the princesses will think that I am coming in, and the one who kisses you first shall be yours, and I will have the other. For he knew that the elder princess was the stronger, and he could very well guess how things would go. King Pippin at once agreed to this. He changed clothes with his brother and went into the palace. When he entered the princess's apartments, they believed that he was Minnican, and both of them ran up to him at once, but the elder, who was bigger and stronger, pushed her sister aside and threw her arms around King Pippin's neck and kissed him. So he got her to wife. And Minnican, the younger sister, it will be easy to understand that two weddings took place, and they were so magnificent that they were heard of, and talked about, all over seven kingdoms. End of XXXI. CHAPTER 32 Bushy Bride There was once of the time a widower who had a son and a daughter by his first wife. There were both good children and loved each other with all their hearts. After some time had gone by, the man married again, and he chose a widow with one daughter who was ugly and wicked, and her mother was ugly and wicked, too. From the very day that the new wife came into the house, there was no peace for the man's children, and not a corner to be found where they could get any rest. So the boy thought that the best thing he could do was to go out into the world and try to earn his own bread. When he had roamed about for some time he came to the king's palace, where he obtained a place under the coachman, and very brisk in act if he was, and the horses that he looked after were so fat and sleek that they shone again. But his sister, who was still at home, fared worse and worse. Both her stepmother and her stepsister were always finding fault with her, whatsoever she did and whether so ever she went. When they scolded her and abused her so that she never had an hour's peace, they made her do all the hard work, and hard words fell to her lot early and late, but little enough food accompanied them. One day they sent her to the brook to fetch some water home, and an ugly and horrible head rose up out of the water, and said, Wash me, girl. Oh yes, I will wash you with pleasure, said the girl, and began to wash and scrub the ugly face, but she couldn't help thinking that it was a very unpleasant piece of work. And when she had done it and done it well, another head rose up out of the water, this one uglier still, Brush me, girl, said the head. Yes, I will brush you with pleasure, said the girl, and said to work with the tangled hair, and as may be easily imagined, this too was by no means pleasant work. When she had got it done, another and much more ugly horrible-looking head rose up out of the water. Kiss me, girl, said the head. Yes, I will kiss you, said the man's daughter, and she did it, but she thought it was the worst bit of work that she had ever had to do in her life. So the heads all began to talk to each other, and to ask what they should do for this girl who was so full of kindness. She shall be the prettiest girl that ever was, and fair and bright as the day, said the first head. Gold shall drop from her hair wherever she brushes, said the second. And gold shall drop from her mouth whenever she speaks, said the third. So when the man's daughter went home, looking as beautiful and bright as day, the stepmother and her daughter grew much more ill-tempered, and it was worse still when she began to talk, and they saw that gold coins dropped from her mouth. The stepmother fell into such a towering passion that she drove the man's daughter into the pigsty. She might stay there with her fine shoe of gold, the stepmother said, but she should not be permitted to step foot in the house. It was not long before the mother wanted her own daughter to go to the stream to fetch water. When she got there with her pails, the first head rose up out of the water close to the bank. Wash me, girl, it said. Wash yourself, answered the woman's daughter. Then the second had appeared. Brush me, girl. Brush yourself, said the woman's daughter. And so it went to the bottom, and the third head came up. Kiss me, girl, said the head. As if I would kiss your ugly mouth, said the girl. So again, the heads talked together about what they should do for this girl, who was so ill-tempered and full of her own importance, and they agreed that she should have a nose that was four Ls long, and a jaw that was three Ls, and a fur brush in the middle of her forehead, and every time she spoke, ashes should fall from her mouth. When she came back to the cottage door with her pails, she called her mother, who was inside, open the door. Open the door yourself, my own dear child, said the mother. I can't get near because of my nose, said the daughter. When the mother came and saw her, you may imagine what a state of mind she was in, and how she screamed and lamented. But neither the nose nor the jaw grew any less for that. Now the brother, who was in service in the King's palace, had taken a portrait of his sister, and he had carried the picture away with him, and every morning and evening he knelt down before it and prayed for his sister, so dearly did he love her. The other stableboys had heard him doing this, so they peeped through the keyhole in his room, and they saw that he was kneeling there before a picture. So they told everyone that every morning and evening the youth knelt down and prayed to an idol which he had, and that last they went to the King himself and begged that he too would peek through the keyhole and see for himself what the youth did. At first the King would not believe this, but after a long, long time they prevailed with him, and he crept on tiptoe to the door, peeped through, and saw the youth on his knees with his hands clasped together before a picture which was hanging on the wall. Open the door, cried the King, but the youth did not hear. So the King called to him again, but the youth was praying so fervently that he did not hear him this time either. Open the door, I say, cried the King. It is I. I want to come in. So the youth sprang to the door and unlocked it, but in his haste he forgot to hide the picture. When the King entered and saw it, he stood still as if he were in fetters and could not stir from the spot, for the picture seemed to him so beautiful. There is nowhere on earth so beautiful a woman is this, said the King, but the youth told him that she was his sister, and that he had painted her, and that if she was not prettier than the picture, she was at all events, not uglier. Well, if she's as beautiful as that, I will have her for my queen, said the King, and he commanded the youth to go home and fetch her without a moment's delay, and to lose no time in coming back. The youth promised to make all the hasty good and set forth from the King's palace. When the brother arrived at home to fetch his sister, her stepmother and stepsister would go too. So they all set out together, and the man's daughter took with her a casket in which she kept her gold and a dog, which was called Little Snow. These two things were all that she had inherited from her mother. When they had traveled for some time, they had to cross the sea, and the brother sat down at the helm, and the mother and the two half sisters went to the forepart of the vessel, and they sailed a long, long way. At last they came inside of land. Look at that white stream there. That is where we shall land, said the brother, pointing across the sea. What is my brother saying, inquired the daughter? He says that you were to throw your casket out into the sea, answered the stepmother. Well, if my brother says so, I must do it, said the man's daughter, and she flung her casket into the sea. When they sailed for some time longer, the brother once more pointed over the sea. There you may see the palace to which we are bound, he said. What is my brother saying, asked the man's daughter? Now he says that you were to throw your dog into the sea, answered the stepmother. The man's daughter wept and was sorely troubled, for Little Snow was the dearest thing she had on earth. But at last she threw him overboard. My brother says that I must do it, but heaven knows how unwilling I am to throw the out Little Snow, she said. So they sailed onwards a long way farther. There thou may see the king coming out to meet thee, said the brother, pointing to the seashore. What is my brother saying, asked his sister again. Now he says that you were to make haste and throw yourself overboard, answered the stepmother. She wept and she wailed, but as her brother had said that, she thought she must do it. So she leaped into the sea. When they arrived at the palace, and the king beheld the ugly bride, was a nose that was four hours long, a jaw that was three Ls, and a forehead that had a bush in the middle of it, he was quite terrified. But the wedding feast was all prepared, as regarding brewing and baking, and all the wedding guests were sitting waiting. So ugly as she was, the king was forced to take her. But he was very raw, and none can blame him for that. So he caused the brother to be thrown into a pit full of snakes. On the first Thursday night after this, a beautiful maiden came into the kitchen of the palace, and begged the kitchen maid who slept there to lend her a brush. She begged very prettily, and got it, and then she brushed her hair, and the gold dropped from it. And a little dog was with her, and she said to it, go out little snow, and see if it will soon be day. This she said thrice, and the third time that she sent out the dog to sea, it was very near dawn. And then she was forced to depart. But as she went, she said, out on the ugly bushy bride, sleeping so soft by the young king's side, on sand and stones my bad I make, and my brother sleeps with a cold snake, unpityed and unwept. I shall come twice more, and then never again, said she. In the morning the kitchen maid related what she had seen and heard, and the king said that next Thursday night he himself would watch in the kitchen and see if it was true. And when it had begun to grow dark, he went out into the kitchen to the girl. But though he rubbed his eyes and did everything he could to keep himself awake, it was all in vain. For the bushy bride, crooned and sang, till his eyes were fast closed, and when the beautiful young maiden came, he was sound asleep and snoring. This time also, as before, she borrowed a brush and brushed her hair with it. And the gold dropped down as she did it. And again she sent the dog out three times. And when they dawned, she departed. But as she was going, she said as she had said before, I shall come once more, and then never again. On the third night the king once more insisted on keeping watch. Then he set two men to hold him. Each of them was to take an arm, and shake him and jerk him by the arm whenever he seemed to be falling asleep. And he set two men to watch his bushy bride. But as the night wore on, the bushy bride again began to sing and croon, so that his eyes began to close and his head to droop to one side. Then came the lovely maiden, and got the brush and brushed her hair till the gold dropped from it. And then she sent her little snow out to see if it would soon be day. And then she did three times. The third time it was just beginning to grow light. And then she said, out on the ugly bushy bride, sleeping so soft by the young king's side. On sand and stones my bed I make, and my brother sleeps with the cold snake, unpittied and unwept. Now I shall never come again, she said. And then she turned to go. But the two men who were holding the king by the arm seized his hands and forced a knife into his grasp, and then made him cut her little finger just enough to make it bleed. Thus the true bride was freed. Then the king awoke, and she told him all that had taken place, and how her stepmother and stepsister had betrayed her. Then the brother was at once taken up out of the snake pit. The snakes had never touched him. And the stepmother and stepsister were flung down into it instead of him. No one can tell how delighted the king was to get rid of that hideous bushy bride, and get a queen who was bright and beautiful as day itself. And now the real wedding was held, and held in such a way that it was heard of and spoken about all over seven kingdoms. The king and his bride drove to church, and little snow was in the carriage too. When the blessing was given they went home again, and after that I saw no more of them. End of Chapter 32 of the Bushy Bride, recording by Windowyn, January 26, 2009.