 Chapter 8 of The Crimson 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 Jenny Lundack. The Crimson Fairy Book, edited by Andrew Lang. Chapter 8. The Prince and the Dragon Once upon a time there lived an emperor who had three sons. They were all fine young men and fond of hunting, and scarcely a day passed without one or the other of them going out to look for gain. One morning the eldest of the three princes mounted his horse and set out for a neighboring forest, where wild animals of all sorts were to be found. He had not long left the castle, when a hare sprang out of the thicket and dashed across the road in front. The young man gave chase at once and pursued it over hill and dale, till at last the hare took refuge in a mill which was standing by the side of a river. The prince followed and entered the mill, but stopped in terror by the door, for instead of a hare, before him stood a dragon, breathing fire and flame. At this fearful sight the prince turned to fly, but a fiery tongue coiled round his waist and drew him into the dragon's mouth, and he was seen no more. A week passed away, and when the prince never came back, everyone in the town began to grow uneasy. At last his brother told the emperor that he likewise would go out to hunt, and that perhaps he would find some clue as to his brother's disappearance. But hardly had the castle gates closed on the prince, then the hare sprang out of the bushes as before, and led the huntsmen uphill and down dale till they reached the mill. Into this the hare flew with the prince at his heels. Then low, instead of the hare, there stood a dragon, breathing fire and flame, and outshot a fiery tongue which coiled round the prince's waist, and lifted him straight into the dragon's mouth, and he was seen no more. Days went by, and the emperor waited and waited for the sons who never came, and could not sleep at night for wondering where they were and what had become of them. His youngest son wished to go in search of his brothers, but for long the emperor refused to listen to him, lest he should lose him also. But the prince prayed so hard for leave to make the search, and promised so often that he would be very cautious and careful that at length the emperor gave him permission and ordered the best horse in the stables to be saddled for him. Full of hope the young prince started on his way, but no sooner was he outside the city walls than a hare sprang out of the bushes and ran before him till they reached the mill. As before the animal dashed in through the open door, but this time he was not followed by the prince. Wiser than his brothers the young man turned away, saying to himself, There are as good hares in the forest as any that have come out of it, and when I have caught them I can come back and look for you. For many hours he rode up and down the mountain but saw nothing, and at last, tired of waiting, he went back to the mill. Here he found an old woman sitting, whom he greeted pleasantly. Good morning to you, little mother, he said, and the old woman answered, Good morning, my son. Tell me, little mother, when on the prince, Where shall I find my hare? My son, replied the old woman, That was no hare, but a dragon, who has led many men hither, and then has eaten them all. With these words the prince's heart grew heavy, and he cried, Then my brothers must have come here and been eaten by the dragon. You have guessed right, answered the old woman, and I can give you no better counsel than to go home at once before the same fate overtakes you. Will you not come with me out of this dreadful place? Said the young man. He took me prisoner, too, answered she, and I cannot shake off his chains. Then listen to me, cried the prince. When the dragon comes back, ask him where he always goes when he leaves here, And what makes him so strong, and when you have coaxed the secret from him, Tell me the next time I come. So the prince went home and the old woman remained in the mill, And as soon as the dragon returned she said to him, Where have you been all this time? You must have traveled far. Yes, little mother, I have indeed traveled far, answered he. Then the old woman began to flatter him and to praise his cleverness, And when she thought she had got him into a good temper, she said, I have wondered so often where you get your strength from. I do wish you would tell me. I would stoop and kiss the place out of pure love. The dragon laughed at this, and answered, In the hearthstone yonder lies the secret of my strength. Then the old woman jumped up and kissed the hearth. Where at the dragon laughed the moron said, You foolish creature, I was only justing. It is not the hearthstone. But in that tall tree that lies the secret of my strength. Then the old woman jumped up again and put her arms round the tree And kissed it heartily. Loudly laughed the dragon when he saw what she was doing. Oh, the fool, he cried, as soon as he could speak. Did you really think that my strength came from that tree? Where is it then? I asked the old woman, rather crossly, for she did not like being made fun of. My strength, replied the dragon, lies far away, so far that you could never reach it. Far, far from here is a kingdom, and by its capital city is a lake. And in the lake is a dragon, and inside the dragon is a wild boar. And inside the wild boar is a pigeon. And inside the pigeon a sparrow. And inside the sparrow is my strength. And when the old woman heard this, she thought it was no use flattering him any longer. For never, never could she take his strength from him. The following morning, when the dragon had left the mill, the prince came back. And the old woman told all that the creature had said. He listened in silence, and then returned to the castle, where he put on a suit of shepherd's clothes, and, taking his staff in his hand, he went forth to seek the place as tender of sheep. For some time he wandered from village to village and from town to town, till he came at length to a large city in a distant kingdom, surrounded on three sides by a great lake, which happened to be the very lake in which the dragon lived. As was his custom, he stopped everybody whom he met in the streets that looked likely to want his shepherd, and begged them to engage him. But they all seemed to have shepherds of their own, or else not to need any. The prince was beginning to lose heart when a man who had overheard his question turned round and said that he had better go and ask the emperor, as he was in search of someone, to see after his flocks. Will you take care of my sheep? said the emperor when the young man knelt before him. Most willingly, your majesty, answered the young man, and he listened obediently while the emperor told him what he was to do, outside the walls, went on the emperor. You will find a large lake, and by its banks lie the richest meadows in my kingdom. When you are leading out your flocks to pasture, they will all run straight to these meadows, and none that have gone there have ever been known to come back. Take heed, therefore, my son, not to suffer your sheep to go where they will, but drive them to any spot that you think best. As the lobao, the prince thanked the emperor for his warning, and promised to do his best to keep the sheep safe. Then he left the palace and went to the marketplace, where he bought two greyhounds, a hawk, and a set of pipes. After that he took the sheep out to pasture. The instant the animals caught sight of the lake lying before them, they trotted off as fast as their legs would go to the green meadows lying round it. The prince did not try to stop them. He only placed his hawk on the branch of a tree, laid his pipes on the grass, and bathed the greyhounds, sit still. Then, rolling up his sleeves and trousers, he waded into the water, crying as he did so. Dragon, dragon, if you are not a coward, come out and fight with me! And a voice answered from the depths of the lake. I am waiting for you, oh, prince! And the next minute the dragon reared himself out of the water, huge and horrible to see. The prince sprang upon him and they grappled with each other, and fought till the sun was high, and it was noonday. Then the dragon gasped, oh, prince, let me dip my burning head once into the lake, and I will hurl you up to the top of the sky. But the prince answered, oh, no, my good dragon, do not crow too soon. If the emperor's daughter were only here and would kiss me on the forehead, I would throw you up higher still. And suddenly the dragon's hold loosened, and he fell back into the lake. As soon as it was evening, the prince washed away all signs of the fight, took his hawk upon his shoulder and his pipes under his arm, and with his greyhounds in front, and his flock following after him, he set out for the city. As they all passed through the streets, the people stared in wonder, for never before had any flock returned from the lake. The next morning he rose early, and led his sheep down the road to the lake. This time, however, the emperor sent two men on horseback to ride behind him, with orders to watch the prince all day long. The horsemen kept the prince and his sheep in sight, without being seen themselves. As soon as they beheld the sheep running toward the meadows, they turned aside up a steep hill which overhung the lake. When the shepherd reached the place, he laid as before his pipes on the grass and bathed the greyhounds sit beside them, while the hawk he perched on a branch of the tree. Then he rolled up his trousers and his sleeves, and waded into the water, crying, Dragon, dragon, if you are not a coward, come out and fight with me. And the dragon answered, I am waiting for you, oh prince. And the next minute he reared himself out of the water, huge and horrible to see. Again, they clasped each other tight round the body and fought till it was noon. And when the sun was at its hottest, the dragon gasped, oh prince, let me dip my burning head once in the lake, and I will hurl you up to the top of the sky. But the prince answered, oh no, my good dragon, do not crow too soon. If the emperor's daughter were only here and would kiss me on the forehead, I would throw you up higher still. And suddenly the dragon's hold loosened and he fell back into the lake. As soon as it was evening the prince again collected his sheep, and, playing on his pipes, he marched before them into the city. When he passed through the gates all the people came out of their houses to stare and wonder, for never before had any flock returned from the lake. Meanwhile the two horsemen had ridden quickly back and told the emperor all that they had seen and heard. The emperor listened eerily to their tale, then called his daughter to him and repeated it to her. "'Tomorrow,' he said, when he had finished, you shall go with the shepherd to the lake, and then you shall kiss him on the forehead as he wishes.' But when the princess heard these words she burst into tears and sobbed out, "'Will you really send me, your only child, to that dreadful place from which most likely I shall never come back?' "'Fear nothing, my little daughter. Oh, we'll be well. Many shepherds have gone to that lake and none have returned. But this one has, in these two days, fought twice with the dragon and has escaped without a wound. Though I hope, to-morrow he will kill the dragon altogether and deliver this land from the monster who has slain so many of our bravest men.' Scarcely had the sun begun to peep over the hills next morning when the princess stood by the shepherd's side, ready to go to the lake. The shepherd was brimming over with joy, but the princess only wept bitterly. "'Dry your tears, I implore you,' said he. "'If you will just do what I ask you, and when the time comes, run and kiss my forehead, you have nothing to fear.' Merely the shepherd blew on his pipes as he marched at the head of his flock, only stopping every now and then to say to the weeping girl at his side, "'Do not cry so hard of gold. Trust me, and fear nothing.' And so they reached the lake. In an instant the sheep were scattered all over the meadows, and the prince placed his hawk on the tree, and his pipes on the grass while he bade his greyhounds lie beside them. Then he rolled up his trousers and his sleeves and waded into the water, calling, "'Dragon, dragon, if you are not a coward, come forth, and let us have one more fight together.' And the dragon answered, "'I am waiting for you, oh prince.' And the next minute he reared himself out of the water, huge and horrible to see. Swiftly he drew near the bank, and the prince sprang to meet him, and they grasped each other round the body and fought till it was noon. And when the sun was at its hottest the dragon cried, "'Oh prince, let me dip my burning head in the lake, and I will hurl you to the top of the sky.' But the prince answered, "'Oh, oh, my good dragon, do not crow too soon. If the emperor's daughter were only here and she would kiss my forehead, I would throw you higher still.' Hardly had he spoken when the princess, who had been listening, ran up and kissed him on the forehead. Then the prince swung the dragon straight up into the clouds, and when he touched the earth again he broke into a thousand pieces. Out of the pieces there sprang a wild boar and galloped away, but the prince called his hounds to give chase, and they caught the boar and tore it to pieces. Out of the pieces there sprang a hare, and in a moment the grey hounds were after it, and they caught it and killed it. And out of the hare there came a pigeon. Quickly the prince let loose his hawk, which soared straight into the air, then swooped upon the bird and brought it to his master. The prince cut open its body and found the sparrow inside as the woman had said. "'Now,' cried the prince, holding the sparrow in his hand, "'Now you shall tell me where I can find my brothers.' "'Do not hurt me,' answered the sparrow, "'and I will tell you with all my heart. Behind your father's castle stands a mill, and in the mill are three slender twigs. Cut off these twigs and strike their roots with them, and the iron door of a cellar will open. In the cellar you will find as many people, young and old women and children as would fill a kingdom, and among them are your brothers.' By this time twilight had fallen, so the prince washed himself in the lake, took the hawk on his shoulder, and the pipes under his arm, and with his grey hounds before him, and his flock behind him, marched gaily into the town. The princess, following them all, still trembling with fright. And so they passed through the streets, thronged with a wondering crowd, till they reached the castle. Unknown to anyone, the emperor had stolen out on horseback and had hidden himself on the hill where he could see all that happened. When all was over and the power of the dragon was broken forever, he rode quickly back to the castle, and was ready to receive the prince with open arms and to promise him his daughter to wife. The wedding took place with great splendor, and for a whole week the town was hung with colored lamps and tables were spread in the hall of the castle for all who chose to come and eat. And when the feast was over the prince told the emperor and the people who he really was, and at this everyone rejoiced still more, and preparations were made for the prince and the princess to return to their own kingdom. For the prince was impatient to set free his brothers. The first thing he did when he reached his native country was to hasten to the mill, where he found the three twigs as the sparrow had told him. The moment that he struck the root the iron door flew open, and from the cellar a countless multitude of men and women streamed forth. He bade them go one by one, wheresoever they would, while he himself waited by the door till his brothers passed through. How delighted they were to meet again and to hear all that the prince had done to deliver them from their enchantment. And they went home with him and served him all the days of their lives, for they said that he only, who had proved himself brave and faithful, was fit to be king. From Vox Marren de Serbian End of Chapter 8, Recording by Jenny Lundak, South Padre Island, Texas, recorded in July 2010. Chapter 9 of the Crimson 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 Jenny Lundak, the Crimson Fairy Book, edited by Andrew Lang, Chapter 9. Little Wild Rose Once upon a time the things in this story happened. And if they had not happened, then the story would never have been told. But that was a time when wolves and lambs lay peacefully together in one stall and shepherds dined on grassy banks with kings and queens. Once upon a time, then, my dear good children, there lived a man. Now this man was really a hundred years old, if not fully twenty years more. And his wife was very old, too. How old I do not know. But some said she was as old as the goddess Venus herself. They had been very happy all these years. But they would have been happier still if they had had any children. But old though they were, they had never made up their minds to do without them. And often they would sit over the fire and talk of how they would have brought up their children if only some had come to their house. One day the old man seemed sadder and more thoughtful than was common with him. And at last he said to his wife, Listen to me, old woman. What do you want? Asked she. Get me some money out of the chest, for I am going a long journey, all through the world, to see if I cannot find a child, for my heart aches to think that after I am dead my house will fall into the hands of a stranger. And this let me tell you, that if I never find a child I shall not come home again. Then the old man took a bag and filled it with food and money, and throwing it over his shoulder bade his wife farewell. For long he wandered and wandered and wandered, but no child did he see. And one morning his wanderings led him to a forest which was so thick with trees that no light could pass through the branches. The old man stopped when he saw this dreadful place, and at first was afraid to go in. But he remembered that, after all, as the proverb says, it is the unexpected that happens. And perhaps in the midst of this black spot he might find the child he was seeking. So summoning up all his courage he plunged boldly in. How long he might have been walking there he never could have told you, when at last he reached the mouth of a cave where the darkness seemed a hundred times darker than the wood itself. Again he paused, but he felt as if something was driving him to enter. And with a beating heart he stepped in. For some minutes the silence and darkness so appalled him that he stood where he was, not daring to advance one step. Then he made a great effort and went on a few paces, and suddenly, far before him, he saw the glimmer of a light. This put new heart into him, and he directed his steps straight towards the faint rays, till he could see, sitting by it, an old hermit with a long white beard. The hermit either did not hear the approach of his visitor, or pretended not to do so, for he took no notice and continued to read his book. After waiting patiently for a little while, the old man fell on his knees and said, Good morning, Holy Father! But he might as well have spoken to the rock. Good morning, Holy Father! he said again, a little louder than before, and this time the hermit made a sign to him to come nearer. My son! he whispered, in a voice that echoed through the cavern, What brings you to this dark and dismal place? Hundreds of years have passed since my eyes have rested on the face of a man, and I did not think to look on one again. My misery has brought me here, replied the old man. I have no child, and all our lives my wife and I have longed for one, so I left my home and went out into the world, hoping that somewhere I might find what I was seeking. Then the hermit picked up an apple from the ground and gave it to him, saying, Eat half of this apple, and give the rest to your wife, and cease wandering through the world. The old man stooped and kissed the feet of the hermit for sheer joy, and left the cave. He made his way through the forest as fast as darkness would let him, and at length arrived in flowery fields which dazzled him with their brightness. Suddenly he was seized with a desperate thirst and a burning throat. He looked for a stream, but none was to be seen, and his tongue grew more parched every moment. At length his eyes fell on the apple, which all this while he had been holding in his hand, and in his thirst he forgot what the hermit had told him, and instead of eating merely his own half he ate up the old woman's also. After that he went to sleep. When he woke up he saw something strange lying on a bank a little way off amidst long trails of pink roses. The old man got up, rubbed his eyes, and went to see what it was. Into his surprise and joy it proved to be a little girl about two years old, with the skin as pink and white as the roses above her. He took her gently in his arms, but she did not seem at all frightened, and only jumped and crowed with delight, and the old man wrapped his cloak around her and set off for home as fast as his legs would carry him. When they were close to the cottage where they lived he laid the child in a pail that was standing near the door and ran into the house crying, Come quickly, wife, quickly, for I have brought you a daughter with hair of gold and eyes like stars. At this wonderful news the old woman flew downstairs, almost tumbling down in her eagerness to see the treasure. But when her husband led her to the pail it was perfectly empty. The old man was nearly beside himself with horror while his wife sat down and sobbed with grief and disappointment. There was not a spot round which they did not search, thinking that somehow the child might have gotten out of the pail and hidden itself for fun. But the little girl was not there, and there was no sign of her. Where can she be? moaned the old man in despair. Oh, why did I ever leave her even for a moment? Have the fairies taken her or has some wild beast carried her off? And they began their search all over again. But neither fairies nor wild beasts did they meet with, and with sore hearts they gave up at last and turned sadly into the hut. And what had become of the baby? Well, finding herself alone in a strange place she began to cry with fright, and an eagle hovering near heard her and went to see what the sound came from. When he beheld the fat pink and white creature he thought of his hungry little ones at home and swooping down caught her up in his claws and was soon flying with her over the tops of trees. In a few minutes he reached the one in which he had built his nest, and laying little wild rows, for so the old man had called her, among his downy young eaglets he flew away. The eaglets, naturally, were rather surprised at this strange animal so suddenly plopped down in their midst. But instead of beginning to eat her, as their father expected, they nestled up close to her and spread out their tiny wings to shield her from the sun. Now, in the depths of the forest where the eagle had built his nest, there ran a stream whose waters were poisonous and on the banks of this stream dwelt a horrible lindworm with seven heads. The lindworm had often watched the eagle flying about the top of the tree, carrying food to its young ones, and accordingly he watched carefully for the moment when the eaglets began to try their wings and to fly away from the nest. Of course, if the eagle himself was there to protect them, even the lindworm, big and strong as he was, knew that he could do nothing, but when he was absent, the little eaglets who ventured too near the ground, would be sure to disappear down the monster's throat. Their brothers, who had been left behind as too young and weak to see the world, knew nothing of all this, but suppose their turn would soon come to see the world also. And in a few days their eyes too opened, and their wings flapped impatiently, and they longed to fly away above the waving treetops, to mountain and bright sun beyond. But that very midnight the lindworm, who was hungry and could not wait for his supper, came out of the brook with a rushing noise, and made straight for the tree. Two eyes aflame came creeping nearer and nearer, and two fiery tongues were stretching themselves out closer and closer to the little birds who were trembling and shuddering in the farthest corner of the nest. But just as the tongues had almost reached them, the lindworm gave a fearful cry, and turned and fell backwards. Then came the sound of battle from the ground below, and the tree shook, though there was no wind, and roars and snarls mixed together till the eaglets felt more frightened than ever, and thought their last hour had come. Only wild rose was undisturbed, and slept sweetly through it all. In the morning the eagle returned and saw traces of a fight below the tree, and here and there a handful of yellow mane lying about, and here and there a hard, scaly substance. When he saw that he rejoiced greatly, and hastened to the nest. "'Who has slain the lindworm?' he asked of his children. There were so many that he did not at first miss the two which the lindworm had eaten. But the eaglets answered that they could not tell, only that they had been in danger of their lives, and at the last moment they had been delivered. Then the sunbeam had struggled through the thick branches, and caught wild roses gold in hair as she lay curled up in the corner, and the eagle wondered as he looked whether the little girl had brought him luck, and it was her magic which had killed his enemy. "'Children,' he said, "'I brought her here for your dinner, and you have not touched her. What is the meaning of this?' But the eaglets did not answer, and wild rose opened her eyes and seemed seven times lovelier than before. From that day wild rose lived like a little princess. The eagle flew about the wood and collected the softest greenest moss he could find to make her a bed. And then he picked, with his beak, all the brightest and prettiest flowers in the field, or on the mountains to decorate it. So cleverly did he manage it that there was not a fairy in the whole of the forest who would not have been pleased to sleep there. Rocked to and fro by the breeze in the treetops. And when the little ones were able to fly from their nest, he taught them where to look for the fruits and berries which she loved. So the time passed by, and with each year wild rose grew taller and more beautiful, and she lived happily in her nest, and never wanted to go out of it, only standing at the edge in the sunset looking upon the beautiful world. For company she had all the birds in the forest who came and talked to her, and for playthings the strange flowers which they brought her from far, and the butterflies which danced with her. And so the days slipped away and she was fourteen years old. One morning the emperor's son went out to hunt, and he had not ridden far before a deer started from under a grove of trees and ran before him. The prince instantly gave chase and where the stag led he followed, till at length he found himself in the depths of the forest where no man before had trod. The trees were so thick and the wood so dark that he paused for a moment and listened, straining his ears to catch some sound to break a silence which almost frightened him. But nothing came, not even the baying of a hound or the note of a horn. He stood still and wondered if he should go on when, on looking up, a stream of light seemed to flow from the top of a tall tree. In its rays he could see the nest with young eaglets who were watching him over the side. The prince fitted an arrow into his bow and took his aim, but before he could let fly another ray of light dazzled him. So brilliant was it that his bow dropped and he covered his faiths with his hands. When at last he ventured to peep, wild rose with her golden hair flowing round her was looking at him. This was the first time she had seen a man. Tell me, how I can reach you, cried he. But wild rose smiled and shook her head and sat down quietly. The prince saw that it was no use and turned and made his way out of the forest. But he might as well have stayed there for any good he was to his father. So full was his heart of longing for wild rose. Twice he returned to the forest in hopes of finding her. But this time fortune failed him and he went home as sad as ever. At length the emperor, who could not think what had caused this change, sent for his son and asked him what was the matter. Then the prince confessed that the image of wild rose filled his soul and that he would never be happy without her. At first the emperor felt rather distressed. He doubted whether a girl from a treetop would make a good empress. But he loved his son so much that he promised to do all he could to find her. So the next morning heralds were sent forth throughout the whole land to inquire if anyone knew where a maiden could be found who lived in a forest on the top of a tree and to promise great riches and a place at court to any person who should find her. But nobody knew. All the girls in the kingdom had their homes on the ground and laughed at the notion of being brought up in a tree. A nice kind of empress she would make, they said, as the emperor had done, tossing their heads with disdain. For having read many books they guessed what she was wanted for. The heralds were almost in despair when an old woman stepped out of the crowd and came and spoke to them. She was not only very old, but she was very ugly, with a hump on her back and a bald head. And when the heralds saw her they broke into rude laughter. I can show you the maiden who lives in the treetop, she said. But they only laughed the more loudly. Get away, old witch, they cried. You will bring us bad luck. But the old woman stood firm and declared that she alone knew where to find the maiden. Go with her, said the eldest of the heralds at last. The emperor's orders are clear. But whoever knew anything of the maiden was to come at once to court, put her in the coach and take her with us. So in this fashion the old woman was brought to court. You have declared that you can bring hither the maiden from the woods, said the emperor, who was seated on his throne. Yes, your majesty, and I will keep my word, said she. Then bring her at once, said the emperor. Give me first a kettle and a tripod, asked the old woman. And the emperor ordered them to be brought instantly. The old woman picked them up and tucking them under her arm went on her way, keeping at a little distance behind the royal huntsman who in their turn followed the prince. Oh, what a noise that old woman made as she walked along. She chattered to herself so fast and clattered her kettle so loudly that you would have thought that a whole campful of gypsies must be coming round the next corner. But when they reached the forest she bade them all wait outside and entered the dark wood by herself. She stopped underneath the tree where the maiden dwelt and gathering some dry sticks kindled the fire. Next she placed the tripod over it and the kettle on top. But something was the matter with the kettle. As fast as the old woman put it where it was to stand the kettle was sure to roll off, falling to the ground with a crash. It really seemed bewitched. And no one knows what might have happened if Wild Rose, who had been all the time peeping out of her nest, had not lost patience with the old woman's stupidity and cried out, The tripod won't stand on that hill. You must move it. But where am I to move it, my child, asked the old woman, looking up to the nest and at the same moment trying to steady the kettle with one hand and the tripod with the other. Didn't I tell you that it was no good doing that? said Wild Rose more impatiently than before, make a fire near the tree and hang the kettle from one of the branches. The old woman took the kettle and hung it on it little twig, which broke it once and the kettle fell to the ground. If you would only show me how to do it, perhaps I should understand, said she. Quick as thought, the maiden slid down the smooth trunk of the tree and stood beside the stupid old woman to teach her how things ought to be done. But in an instant the old woman had caught up the girl and swung her over her shoulders, and was running as fast as she could go to the edge of the forest where she had left the prince. When he saw them coming he rushed eagerly to meet them, and he took the maiden in his arms and kissed her tenderly before them all. Then a gold dress was put on her and pearls were twined in her hair and she took her seat in the emperor's carriage, which was drawn by six of the whitest horses in the world, and they carried her without stopping to draw breath to the gates of the palace. And in three days the wedding was celebrated and the wedding feast was held, and everyone who saw the bride declared that if anybody wanted a perfect wife they must go to seek her on the top of a tree. CHAPTER X OF THE CRIMSON 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. PATRICK RINHEART THE CRIMSON FAIRY BOOK EDITED BY ANGEL LANG TIDU THE PIPER Once upon a time there lived a poor man who had more children than bread to feed them with. However they were strong and willing and soon learned to make themselves of use to their father and mother, and when they were old enough they went out to service and everyone was very glad to get them for servants, for they worked hard and were always cheerful. Out of all the ten or eleven there was only one who gave his parents any trouble, and this was a big lazy boy whose name was Tidu. Neither scoldings nor beatings nor kind words had any effect on him, and the older he grew the idler he got. He spent his winters crutching close to a warm stove and his summers asleep under a shady tree, and if he was not doing either of these things he was playing tunes on his flute. One day he was sitting under a bush playing so sweetly that he might easily have mistaken the notes for those of a bird when an old man passed by. "'What trade do you wish to follow, my son?' he asked in a friendly voice, stopping as he did so in front of the youth. If I were only a rich man and had no need to work, replied the boy, I should not follow any. I could not bear to be anybody's servant, as all my brothers and sisters are.' The old man laughed as he heard this answer and said, "'But I do not exactly see where your riches are to come from if you do not work for them.' Sleeping cats catch no mice. He who wishes to become rich must use either his hands or his head, and be ready to toil night and day or else.' But here the youth broke in rudely. Be silent, old man, I have been told all that a hundred times over, and it runs off me like water off a duck's back. No one will ever make a worker out of me.' "'You have one gift,' replied the old man, taking no notice of this speech. And if you would only go about and play the pipes, you would easily earn not only your daily bread, but a little money into the bargain. Listen to me, get yourself a set of pipes, and learn to play on them as well as you do on your flute, and wherever there are men to hear you, I promise you will never lack money.' "'But where am I to get the pipes from?' asked the youth. "'Blow on your flute for a few days,' replied the old man, and you will soon be able to buy your pipes. Buy and buy, I will come back again and see if you have taken my advice, and whether you are likely to grow rich.' And so saying he went his way. Tidu stayed where he was a little longer, thinking of all the old man had told him, and the more he thought the sureer he felt that the old man was right. He determined to try whether his plan would really bring luck. But as he did not like being laughed at, he resolved not to tell anyone a word about it. So next morning he left home, and never came back. His parents did not take his loss much to heart, but were rather glad that their useless son had for once shown a little spirit, and they hoped that time and hardship might cure Tidu of his idle folly. For some weeks Tidu wandered from one village to another, and proved for himself the truth of the old man's promise. The people he met were all friendly and kind, and enjoyed his flute-playing, giving him his food in return and even a few pence. These pence the youth hoarded carefully till he had collected enough to buy a beautiful pair of pipes. Then he felt himself indeed on the high road to riches. Nowhere could pipes be found as fine as his, or played in so masterly a manner. Tidu's pipe set everybody's legs dancing. Wherever there was a marriage, or a christening, or a feast of any kind, Tidu must be there, or the evening would be a failure. In a few years he had become so noted a piper that people would travel far and wide to hear him. One day he was invited to a christening where many rich men from the neighbouring town were present, and all agreed that never in all their lives had they heard such playing as his. They crowded round him, and praised him, and pressed him to come to their homes, declaring that it was a shame not to give their friends the chance of hearing such music. Of course all this delighted Tidu, who accepted gladly, and left their houses laden with money and presents of every kind. One great lord clothed him in a magnificent dress. A second hung a chain of pearls round his neck, while a third handed him a set of new pipes encrusted in silver. As for the ladies, the girls twisted silken scarves round his plume tet, and their mothers knitted him gloves of all colours to keep out the cold. Any other man in Tidu's place would have been contented and happy in this life, but his craving for riches gave him no rest, and only goaded him day by day to fresh exertions, so that even his own mother would not have known him for the lazy boy who was always lying asleep in one place or the other. Now Tidu saw quite clearly that he could only hope to become rich by means of his pipes, and set about thinking if there was nothing he could do to make the money flow in faster. At length he remembered, having heard some stories of a kingdom in the Kundula country, where musicians of all sorts were welcomed and highly paid, but where it was or how it was reached he could not recollect however hard he thought. In despair he wandered along the coast, hoping to see some ship or sailing boat that would take him where he wished to go, and at length he reached the town of Narva, or several merchant men were lying at anchor. To his great joy he found that one of them was sailing for Kundula in a few days, and he hastily went on board and asked for the captain. But the cost of the passage was more than the prudent Tidu cared to pay, and though he played his best on his pipes, the captain refused to lower his price, and Tidu was just thinking of returning on shore when his usual luck flew to his aid. A young sailor who had heard him play came secretly to him and offered to hide him on board in the absence of the captain. So the next night as soon as it was dark Tidu stepped softly on deck and was hidden by his friend down in the hold in a corner between two casks. Unseen by the rest of the crew the sailor managed to bring him food and drink, and when they were well out of sight of land he proceeded to carry out a plan he had invented to deliver Tidu from his cramped quarters. At midnight while he was keeping watch and everyone else was sleeping, the man bade his friend Tidu follow him on deck where he tied a rope round Tidu's body, fastening the other end carefully to one of the ship's ropes. Now he said, I will throw you into the sea and you must shout for help, and when you see the sailors coming untie the rope from your waist and tell them that you have swum after the ship all the way from shore. At first Tidu did not much like the scheme for the sea ran high, but he was a good swimmer and the sailor assured him that there was no danger. As soon as he was in the water his friend hastened to rouse his mates, declaring that he was sure that there was a man in the sea following the ship. They all came on deck, and what was their surprise when they recognized the person who had bargained about a passage the previous day with the captain? Are you a ghost or a dying man? They asked him trembling as they stooped over the side of the ship. I shall soon indeed be a dead man if you do not help me," answered Tidu, for my strength is going fast. Then the captain seized a rope and flung it out to him, and Tidu held it between his teeth while unseen by the sailors he loosed the one tied round his waist. Where have you come from? said the captain when Tidu was brought up on board the ship. I have followed you from the harbor, answered he, and have been often in sore dread lest my strength should fail me. I hoped that by swimming after the ship I might at least reach Kungla as I had no money to pay my passage. The captain's heart melted at these words, and he said kindly, You may be thankful that you were not drowned. I will land you at Kungla for you of payment as you are so anxious to get there. Though he gave him dry clothes to wear, and a birth to sleep in, and Tidu and his friend secretly made merry over their cunning trick. For the rest of the voyage the ship's crew treated Tidu as something higher than themselves, seeing that in all their lives they had never met with any man that could swim for as many hours as he had done. This pleased Tidu very much, though he knew that he had really done nothing to deserve it, and in return he delighted them by tunes on his pipes. When after some day as they cast anchor at Kungla, the story of his wonderful swim brought him many friends. For everybody wished to hear him tell the tale himself. This might have been all very well, had not Tidu lived in dread that some day he would be asked to give proof of his marvelous swimming powers, and then everything would be found out. Meanwhile he was dazzled with a splendour around him, and more than ever he longed for part of the riches about which the owners seemed to care so little. He wandered through the streets for many days, seeking someone who wanted a servant, but though more than one person would have been glad to engage him, they seemed to Tidu, not the sort of people, to help him to get rich quickly. At last when he had almost made up his mind that he must accept the next place offered him, he happened to knock at the door of a rich merchant who was in need of a Skolian, and gladly agreed to do the cook's bidding, and it was in this merchant's house that he first learned how great were the riches of the land of Kungla. All the vessels which in other countries were made of iron, copper, brass, or tin in Kungla were made of silver or even gold. The food was cooked in silver saucepans, the bread baked in a silver oven while the dishes and their covers were all of gold. Even the very pig's troughs were of silver, too. But the sight of these things only made Tidu more covetous than before. What is the use of all this wealth that I have constantly before my eyes, thought he, if none of it is mine? I shall never grow rich by what I earn as a Skolian, even though I am paid as much in a month as I should get elsewhere in a year. By this time he had been in his place for two years, and had put by quite a large sum of money. His passion of saving had increased to such a pitch that it was only by his master's orders that he ever bought any new clothes. Four said the merchant, I will not have dirty people in my house. So with a heavy heart Tidu spent some of his next month's wages on a cheap coat. One day the merchant held a great feast in honour of the christening of his youngest child, and he gave each of his servants a handsome garment for the occasion. The following Sunday Tidu, who liked fine clothes when he did not have to pay for them, put on his new coat and went for a walk to some beautiful pleasure gardens, which were always full of people on a sunny day. He sat down under a shady tree, and watched the passers by, but after a little he began to feel rather lonely, for he knew nobody, and nobody knew him. Suddenly his eyes fell on the figure of an old man, which seemed familiar to him, though he could not tell when or where he had seen it. He watched the figure for some time, till at length the old man left the crowded palace and threw himself on the soft grass under a lime tree, which stood at some distance from where Tidu was sitting. Then the young man walked slowly past, in order that he might look at him more closely, and as he did so the old man smiled and held out his hand. What have you done with your pipes? asked Tidu, and then in a moment Tidu knew him. Taking his arm he drew him into a quiet place and told him all that had happened since they had last met. The old man shook his head as he listened, and when Tidu had finished his tale he said, A fool you are, and a fool you will always be! Was there ever such a piece of folly as to exchange your pipes for a Skullian's ladle, you could have made as much by the pipes in a day as your wages would have come to in half a year. Go home and fetch your pipes and play them here, and you will soon see if I've spoken the truth. Tidu did not like this advice. He was afraid that the people would laugh at him, and besides it was long since he had touched his pipes. But the old man persisted, and at last Tidu did as he was told. Sit down on the bank by me, said the old man when he came back, and begin to play, and in a little while the people will flock round you. Tidu obeyed. At first without much heart, but somehow the tone of the pipes was sweeter than he had remembered, and as he played the crowd ceased to walk in chatter, and stood still and silent round him. When he had played for some time he took off his hat and passed it round, and dollars and small silver coins and even gold pieces came tumbling in. Tidu played a couple more tunes by way of thanks, then turned to go home, hearing on all sides murmurs of, What a wonderful piper! Come back, we pray you, next Sunday to give us another treat. What did I tell you? said the old man as they passed through the garden gate. Was it not pleasanter to play for a couple of hours on the pipes than to be stirring sauces all day long? For the second time I have shown you the path to follow. Try to learn wisdom and take the ball by the horns lest your luck should slip from you. I can be your guide no longer and therefore listen to what I say and obey me. Go every Sunday afternoon to those gardens and sit under the lime-tree and play to the people, and bring a felt hat with a deep crown, and lay it on the ground at your feet, so that everyone can throw some money into it. If you are invited to play at a feast, except willingly, but beware of asking a fixed price, say you will take whatever they may feel inclined to give. You will get far more money in the end. Perhaps some day our paths may cross, and then I shall see how far you have followed my advice. Until then, farewell, and the old man went his way. As before his words came true, though Tidu could not at once do his bidding, as he had first to fulfill his appointed time of service. Meanwhile, he ordered some fine clothes in which he played every Sunday in the gardens, and when he counted his games in the evening they were always more than on the Sunday before. At length he was free to do as he liked, and he had more invitations to play than he could manage to accept. And at night when the citizens used to go and drink in the end the landlord always banged Tidu to come and play to them. Thus he grew so rich that very soon he had his silver pipes covered with gold, so that they glistened in the light of the sun or the fire. In all Kungla there was no prouder man than Tidu. In a few years he had saved such a large sum of money that he was considered a rich man even in Kungla where everybody was rich. And then he had leisure to remember that he had once had a home and a family, and that he should like to see them both again, and show them how well he could play. This time he would not need to hide in the ship's hold but could hire the best cabin if he wished to, or even have a vessel all to himself. So he packed all his treasures in large chests and sent them on board the first ship that was sailing to his native land, and followed them with a light heart. The wind at starting was fair, but it soon freshened, and in the night rose to a gale. For two days they ran before it and hoped that by keeping well out to sea they might be able to weather the storm, when suddenly the ship struck on a rock and began to fill. Orders were given to lower the boats, and Tidu with three sailors got into one of them. But before they could push away from the ship a huge wave overturned it, and all four were flung into the water. Luckily for Tidu an ore was floating near him, and with its help he was able to keep on the surface of the water. And when the sun rose and the mist cleared away, he saw that he was not far from shore. By hard swimming, for the sea still ran high, he managed to reach it and pulled himself out of the water more dead than alive. Then he flung himself down on the ground and fell fast to sleep. When he awoke he got up to explore the island and see if there were any men upon it, but though he had found streams and fruit trees in abundance, there was no trace either of man or beast. Then tired with his wandering he sat down and began to think. For perhaps the first time in his life his thoughts did not instantly turn to money. It was not on his lost treasures that his mind dwelt, but on his conduct to his parents, his laziness and disobedience as a boy, his forgetfulness of them as a man. If wild animals were to come and tear me to pieces, he said to himself bitterly, it would be only what I deserve. My gains are all at the bottom of the sea. Well, lightly won, lightly lost, but it is odd that I feel I should not care for that if only my pipes were left me. Then he rose and walked a little further till he saw a tree with great red apples shining amidst the leaves, and he pulled some down and ate them greedily. After that he stretched himself out on the soft moss and went to sleep. In the morning he ran to the nearest stream to wash himself, but to his horror when he caught sight of his face he saw his nose had grown the color of an apple and reached nearly to his waist. He started back thinking he was dreaming and put up his hand, but alas the dreadful thing was true. Oh, why does not some wild beast devour me? he cried to himself. Never, never can I go again amongst my fellow men. If only the sea had swallowed me up, how much happier it had been for me. And he hid his head in his hands and wept. His grief was so violent that it exhausted him. And growing hungry he looked about for something to eat. Just above him was a bough of ripe, brown nuts, and he picked them and ate a handful. To his surprise as he was eating them he felt his nose grow shorter and shorter, and after a while he ventured to feel it with his hand and even to look in the stream again. Yes, there was no mistake it was as short as before, or perhaps a little shorter. In his joy this discovery Tidu did a very bold thing. He took one of the apples out of his pocket and cautiously bit a piece out of it. In an instant his nose was as long as his chin and in a deadly fear lest it shouldn't stretch further he hastily swallowed a nut, and awaited the result with terror, supposing that the shrinking of his nose had only been an accident before, supposing that that nut and no other was able to cause its shrinking. In that case he had by his own folly and not letting well alone ruined his life completely. But no, he had guessed rightly, for no more time than his nose had taken to grow long did it take to return to its proper size. This may make my fortune, he said joyfully to himself, and he gathered some of the apples which he put into one pocket and a good supply of nuts which he put into the other. Next day he wove a basket out of some rushes, so that if he ever left the island he might be able to carry his treasures about. That night he dreamed that his friend the old man appeared to him and said, Because you did not mourn for your lost treasure, but only for your pipes I will give you a new set to replace them. And behold in the morning when he got up a set of pipes was lying in the basket. With what joy did he seize them and begin on one of his favorite tunes, and as he played hope spring up in his heart and he looked out to sea to try to detect the sign of a sail. Yes there it was making straight for the island, and Tidu holding his pipes in his hand dashed down to the shore. The sailors knew the island to be uninhabited and were much surprised to see a man standing on the beach, waving his arms and welcome to them. A boat was put off and two sailors rode to the shore to discover how he came there and if he wished to be taken away. Tidu told them the story of his shipwreck and the captain promised that he should come on board and sail with them back to Kungla, and thankful indeed was Tidu to accept the offer and to show his gratitude by playing on his pipes whenever he was asked to do so. They had a quick voyage, and it was not long before Tidu found himself again in the streets of the capital of Kungla, playing as he went along. The people had heard no music like his since he went away, and they crowded round him, and in their joy gave him whatever money they had in their pockets. His first care was to buy himself some new clothes, which he sadly needed, taking care, however, that they should be made after a foreign fashion. When they were ready he set out one day with a small basket of his famous apples and went up to the palace. He did not have to wait long before one of the royal servants passed by and bought all the apples, begging as he did so that the merchant should return and bring some more. This Tidu promised, and hastened away as if he had a mad bull behind him, so afraid was he that the man should begin to eat an apple at once. It is needless to say that for some days he took no more apples back to the palace, but kept well away on the other side of the town, wearing other clothes, and disguised by a long black beard, so that even his own mother would not have known him. The morning after his visit to the castle the whole city was in an uproar about the dreadful misfortune that had happened to the royal family, for not only the king but his wife and children had eaten of the stranger's apples, and all so said the rumour were very ill. The most famous doctors and the greatest magicians were hastily summoned to the palace, but they shook their heads and came away again. Never had they met with such a disease in all the course of their experience. By and by a story went round the town, started no one knew how, that the malady was in some way connected with the nose, and men rubbed their own anxiously to be sure that nothing catching was in the air. Matters had been in the state for more than a week when it reached the ears of the king that a man was living in and in on the other side of the town, who declared himself able to cure all manner of diseases. Instantly the royal carriage was commanded to drive with all speed and bring back this magician, offering him riches untold if he could restore their noses to their former length. Sidhu had expected the summons, and had sat up all night changing his appearance, and so well had he succeeded that not a trace remained either of the piper or of the apple-cellar. He stepped into the carriage, and was driven post-taste to the king, who was feverishly counting every moment, for both his nose and the queens were by this time more than a yard long, and they did not know where they would stop. Now, Sidhu thought it would not look well to cure the royal family by giving them the raw nuts. He felt that it might arouse suspicion, so he had carefully pounded them into a powder, and divided the powder up into small doses, which were to be put on the tongue and swallowed at once. He gave one of these to the king and another to the queen, and told them that before taking them they were to get into bed in a dark room and not to move for some hours, after which they might be sure that they would come out cured. The king's joy was so great at this news that he would gladly have given Sidhu half of his kingdom, but the piper was no longer so greedy of money as he once was, before he had been shipwrecked on the island. If he could get enough to buy a small estate and live comfortably on it for the rest of his life, that was all he now cared for. However, the king ordered his treasury to pay him three times as much as he asked, and with this Sidhu went down to the harbor and engaged a small ship to carry him back to his native country. The wind was fair and in ten days of the coast, which he had almost forgotten, stood clear before him. In a few hours he was standing in his old home, where his brother, three sisters, and two brothers gave him a hearty welcome. His mother and his other brothers had died some years before. When the meeting was over he began to make inquiries about a small estate that was for sale near the town, and after he had bought it the next thing was to find a wife to share it with him. This did not take long either, and people who were at the wedding feast declared that the best part of the whole day was the hour when Tidhu played to them on the pipes before they bathed each other farewell and returned to their homes. End of Tidhu the Piper CHAPTER XI of the Crimson 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 Patrick Reinhardt The Crimson Fairy Book, edited by Andrew Lang PAPERA RELLO Once upon a time there lived a king and a queen who had one son. The king loved the boy very much, but the queen, who was a wicked woman, hated the sight of him. And this was the more unlucky for, when he was twelve years old, his father died, and he was left alone in the world. Now the queen was very angry because the people, who knew how bad she was, seated her son on the throne instead of herself, and she never rested till she had formed a plan to get him out of the way. Fortunately, however, the young king was wise and prudent, and knew her too well to trust her. One day, when his morning was over, he gave orders that everything should be made ready for a grand hunt. The queen pretended to be greatly delighted that he was going to amuse himself once more, and declared that she would accompany him. No, mother, I cannot let you come, he answered. The ground is rough, and you are not strong. But he might as well have spoken to the winds. When the horn was sounded at daybreak, the queen was there with the rest. All that day they rode, for game was plentiful, but towards evening the mother and son found themselves alone in a part of the country that was strange to them. They wandered on for some time, without knowing where they were going, till they met with the man whom they begged to give them shelter. Come with me, said the man gladly, for he was an ogre and fed on human flesh, and the king and his mother went with him, and he led them to his house. When they got there they found what a dreadful place they had come, and falling on their knees they offered him great sums of money, if he would only spare their lives. The ogre's heart was moved at the sight of the queen's beauty, and he promised that he would do her no harm. But he stabbed the boy at once, and, binding his body on a horse, turned him loose in the forest. The ogre had happened to choose a horse which he had brought only the day before, and he did not know it was a magician, or he would not have been so foolish as to fix upon it on this occasion. The horse no sooner had been driven off with the prince's body on its back, than it galloped straight to the home of the fairies, and knocked at the door with its hoof. The fairies heard the knock, but were afraid to open it till they had peeped from an upper window to see that it was no giant or ogre who could do them harm. Oh, look, sister, cried the first to reach the window. It is a horse that has knocked, and on its back there is bound a dead boy, the most beautiful boy in all the world. Then the fairies ran to open the door, and let in the horse, and unbound the ropes which fastened the young king on its back, and they gathered round to admire his beauty, and whispered one to the other. We will make him alive again, and will keep him for our brother. And so they did, and for many years they all lived together as brothers and sisters. By and by the boy grew into a man, as boys will, and then the oldest of the fairies said to her sisters, Now I will marry him, and he shall be really your brother. So the young king married the fairy, and they lived happily together in the castle. But though he loved his wife he still longed to see the world. At length this longing grew so strong on him that he could bear no more, and calling the fairies together he said to them, Dear wife and sisters, I must leave you for a time and go out and see the world, but I shall think of you often, and one day I shall come back to you. The fairies wept and begged him to stay, but he would not listen, and at last the eldest who was his wife said to him, If you really will abandon us, take this lock of my hair with you. You will find it useful in time of need. So she cut off a long curl and handed it to him. The prince mounted his horse and rode on all day without stopping once. Towards evening he found himself in a desert, and look where he would. There was no such thing as a house or a man to be seen. What am I to do now, he thought, If I go to sleep here wild beasts will come and eat me. Yet both I and my horse are worn out, and can go no further. Then suddenly he remembered the fairies' gift, and taking out the curl he said to it, I want a castle here, and servants, and dinner, and everything to make me comfortable tonight, and besides that I must have a stable and fodder for my horse. And in a moment the castle was before him just as he had wished. In this way he travelled through many countries, till at last he came to a land that was ruled over by a great king. Leaving his horse outside the walls he clad himself in the dress of a poor man and went up to the palace. The queen, who was looking out of the window, saw him approaching, and filled with pity sent a servant to ask who he was and what he wanted. I am a stranger here, answered the young king, and very poor. I have come to beg for some work. We have everybody we want, said the queen, when the servant told her the young man's reply. We have a gatekeeper, and a hall porter, and servants of all sorts in the palace. The only person we have not got is a goose-boy. Tell him that he can be our goose-boy if he likes. The youth answered that he was quite content to be goose-boy, and that was how he got his nickname of Pape Rarello. And in order that no one should guess that he was any better than a goose-boy should be, he rubbed his face and his rags over with mud, and made himself altogether such a disgusting object that every one crossed over to the other side of the road when he was seen coming. Do go and wash yourself, Pape Rarello, said the queen, sometimes, for he did his work so well that she took an interest in him. Oh, I should not feel comfortable if I was clean, your majesty, answered he, and went whistling after his geese. It happened one day that, owing to some accident to the great flour mills which supplied the city, there was no bread to be had, and the king's army had to do without. When the king heard of it, he sent for the cook, and told him that by the next morning he must have all the bread that the oven heated seven times over could bake. But, your majesty, it is not possible, cried the poor man in despair. The mills have only just begun working, and the flour will not be ground till evening. And how can I heat the oven seven times in one night? That is your affair, answered the king, who, when he took anything into his head, would listen to nothing. If you succeed in baking the bread, you shall have my daughter to wife, but if you fail, your head will pay for it. Now Pappé Rarello, who was passing through the hall where the king was giving his orders, heard these words, and said, Your majesty, have no fears, I will bake your bread. Very well, answered the king, but if you fail, you will pay for it with your head, and signs that both should leave his presence. The cook was still trembling with the thought of what he had escaped, but to his surprise Pappé Rarello did not seem disturbed at all, and when night came he went to sleep as usual. Pappé Rarello cried the other servants when they saw him quietly taking off his clothes. You cannot go to bed. You will need every moment of the night for your work. Remember the king is not to be played with. I really must have some sleep first, replied Pappé Rarello, stretching himself and yawning, and he flung himself on his bed, and was fast asleep at a moment. And in hours time the servants came and shook him by the shoulder. Pappé Rarello, are you mad, said they? Get up or you will lose your head. Oh, do let me sleep a little more, answered he. And this was all he would say, though the servants returned to wake him many times in the night. At last the dawn broke, and the servants rushed to his room, crying, Pappé Rarello, Pappé Rarello, get up, the king is coming. You have baked no bread, and of a surety he will have your head. Oh, don't scream so, replied Pappé Rarello, jumping out of bed as he spoke, and taking the lock of hair in his hand he went into the kitchen. And behold, there stood the bread piled high, four, five, six ovens full, and the seventh still waiting to be taken out of the oven. The servants stood and stared in surprise, and the king said, Well done, Pappé Rarello, you have won my daughter. And he thought to himself, This fellow must really be a magician. But when the princess heard what was in store for her, she wept bitterly, and declared that never, never would she marry that dirty Pappé Rarello. However, the king paid no heed to her tears and prayers, and before many days rover the wedding was celebrated with great splendor, though the bridegroom had not taken the trouble to wash himself, and was as dirty as before. When night came he went as usual to sleep among his geese, and the princess went to the king and said, Father, I entreat you to have that horrible Pappé Rarello put to death. No, no, replied her father. He is a great magician, and before I put him to death, I must first find out the secret of his power, and then we shall see. Soon after this a war broke out, and everybody about the palace was very busy polishing up armor and sharpening swords, for the king and his sons were to riot at the head of the army. Then Pappé Rarello left his geese, and came and told the king that he wished to go to fight also. The king gave him leave, and told him that he might go to the stable and take any horse he liked from the stables. So Pappé Rarello examined the horses carefully, but instead of picking out one of the splendid well-groomed creatures, whose skin shone like satin, he chose a poor lame thing, put a saddle on it, and rode after the other men-at-arms who were attending the king. In a short time he stopped, and said to them, �My horse can go no further, you must go on to the war without me, and I will stay here and make some little clay soldiers, and will play at a battle.� The men laughed at him for being so childish, and rode on after their master. Scarcely were they out of sight, then Pappé Rarello took out his curl, and wished himself the best armor, the sharpest sword, the swiftest horse in the world, and the next minute was riding as fast as he could to the field of battle. The fight had already begun, and the enemy was getting the best of it, when Pappé Rarello rode up, and in a moment the fortunes of the day had changed. Right and left the strange night laid about him, and his sword pierced the stoutest breast-plate and the strongest shield. He was indeed a host in himself, and his foes fled before him thinking he was only the first of a troop of such warriors whom no one could withstand. When the battle was over the king sent for him to thank him for his timely help, and to ask what reward he should give him. �Nothing but your little finger, your majesty,� was his answer, and the king cut off his little finger and gave it to Pappé Rarello, who bowed and hid it in his circote. Then he left the field, and when the soldiers rode back they found him still sitting in the road, making whole rows of little clay dolls. The next day the king went out to fight another battle, and again Pappé Rarello appeared, mounted on his lame horse. As on the day before he halted on the road and sat down to make his clay soldiers, then a second time he wished himself armor, sword, and a horse, all sharper and better than those he had previously had, and galloped after the rest. He was only just in time. The enemy had almost beaten the king's army back, and men whispered to each other that if the strange knight did not soon come to their aid they would be all dead men. Suddenly someone cried, �Hold on a little longer, I see him in the distance, and his armor shines brighter and his horse runs swifter than yesterday.� Then they took fresh heart and fought desperately on till the knight came up and threw himself into the thick of the battle. As before the enemy gave way before him, and in a few minutes the victory remained with the king. The first thing that the victor did was to send for the knight to thank him for his timely help, and to ask what gift he could bestow on him in token of gratitude. �Your Majesty's ear� answered the knight, and as the king could not go back from his word he cut it off and gave it to him. Pappé Raurello bowed, fastened the ear inside his circote and rode away. In the evening when they all returned from the battle, there he was, sitting in the road making clay dolls. On the third day the same thing happened, and this time he asked for the king's nose as the reward for his aid. Now to lose one's nose is worse even than losing one's ear, or one's finger, and the king hesitated as to whether he should comply. However he had always prided himself on being an honorable man, so he cut off his nose and handed it to Pappé Raurello. Pappé Raurello bowed, put the nose in his circote, and rode away. In the evening when the king returned from the battle, he found Pappé Raurello sitting in the road making clay dolls, and Pappé Raurello got up and said to him, Do you know who I am? I am your dirty goose-boy, yet you have given me your finger, and your ear, and your nose. That night when the king sat at dinner, Pappé Raurello came in and laying down the ear, and the nose, and the finger on the table, turned and said to the nobles and courtiers who were waiting on the king, I am the invincible knight who rode three times to your help, and I also am a king's son, and no goose-boy as you all think. And he went away and washed himself, and dressed himself in fine clothes and entered the hall again, looking so handsome that the proud princess fell in love with him on the spot. But Pappé Raurello took no notice of her, and said to the king, It was kind of you to offer me your daughter in marriage, and for that I thank you, but I have a wife at home, whom I love better, and it is to her that I am going. But as a token of farewell I wish that your ear, and nose, and finger may be restored to their proper places. So sang he bade them all good-bye, and went back to his home in his very bride, with whom he lived happily till the end of his life. End of Pappé Raurello. Chapter 12 The Gifts of the Magician Once upon a time there was an old man who lived in a little hut in the middle of a forest. His wife was dead, and he had only one son, whom he loved dearly. Near their hut was a group of trees, in which some black game had made their nests, and the youth had often begged his father's permission to shoot the birds. But the old man always strictly forbade him to do anything of the kind. One day, however, when the father had gone a little distance to collect some sticks for the fire, the boy fetched his bow and shot at a bird that was flying towards its nest. But he had not taken proper aim, and the bird was only wounded and fluttered along the ground. The boy ran to catch it, but though he ran very fast, and the bird seemed to flutter along very slowly, he never could quite come up with it. It was always just a little in advanced. But so absorbed was he in the chase that he did not notice for some time that he was now deep in the forest, in a place where he had never been before. Then he felt it would be foolish to go any further, and he turned to find his way home. He thought it would be easy enough to follow the path along which he had come, but somehow it was always branching off in unexpected directions. He looked about for a house where he might stop and ask his way, but there was not a sign of one anywhere, and he was afraid to stand still, for it was cold, and there were many stories of wolves being seen in that part of the forest. Night fell, and he was beginning to start at every sound, and suddenly a magician came running towards him, with a pack of wolves snapping at his heels. Then all the boys' courage returned to him. He took his bow, and, aiming an arrow at the largest wolf, shot him through the heart, and a few more arrows soon put the rest to flight. The magician was full of gratitude to his deliverer, and promised him a reward for his help if the youth would go back with him to his house. Indeed, there is nothing that would be more welcome to me than a knight's lodging, answered the boy. I have been wandering all day in the forest and did not know how to get home again. Come with me. You must be hungry as well as tired, said the magician, and led the way to his house, where the guest flung himself on a bed and went fast asleep. But his host returned to the forest to get some food, for the larder was empty. While he was absent the housekeeper went to the boy's room and tried to wake him. She stamped on the floor and shook him and called to him, telling him he was in great danger and must take flight at once, but nothing would rouse him. And if he did ever open his eyes he shut them again directly. Soon after the magician came back from the forest and told the housekeeper to bring them something to eat. The meal was quickly ready and the magician called to the boy to come down and eat it. But he could not be wakened, and they had to sit down to supper without him. By and by the magician went out into the wood again for some more hunting, and on his return he tried afresh to waken the youth. But finding it quite impossible he went back for the third time to the forest. While he was absent the boy woke up and dressed himself, then he came downstairs and began to talk to the housekeeper. The girl had heard how he had saved her master's life, so she said nothing more about his running away. But instead told him that if the magician offered him the choice of a reward he was to ask for the horse which stood in the third stall of the stable. By and by the old man came back and they all sat down to dinner. When they had finished the magician said, Now, my son, tell me what you will have as the reward of your courage. Give me the horse that stands in the third stall of your stable," answered the youth. For I have a long way to go before I get home and my feet will not carry me so far. Ah, my son," replied the magician, it is the best horse in my stable that you want. Will not anything else please you as well? But the youth declared that it was the horse and the horse only that he desired, and in the end the old man gave way. And besides the horse the magician gave him a zither, a fiddle, and a flute, saying, If you are in danger, touch the zither, and if no one comes to your aid, then play on the fiddle. But if that brings no help, blow on the flute. The youth thanked the magician, and fastening his treasures about him mounted the horse and rode off. He had already gone some miles when to his great surprise the horse spoke and said, It is no use you're returning home just now, your father will only beat you. Let us visit a few towns first and something lucky will be sure to happen to us. This advice pleased the boy for he felt himself almost a man by this time and thought it was high time he saw the world. When they entered the capital of the country everyone stopped to admire the beauty of the horse. Even the king heard of it and came to see the splendid creature with his own eyes. Indeed he wanted directly to buy it and told the youth he would give any price he liked. The young man hesitated for a moment, but before he could speak the horse contrived to whisper to him, Do not sell me, but ask the king to take me to his stable and feed me there, then his other horses will become just as beautiful as I. The king was delighted when he was told what the horse had said and took the animal at once to the stables and placed it in its own particular stall. Sure enough the horse had scarcely eaten a mouthful of corn out of the manger when the rest of the horses seemed to have undergone a transformation. Some of them were old favorites which the king had written in many wars, and they bore the signs of age and of service. But now they arched their heads and pawed the ground with their slender legs as they had been want to do in days long gone by. The king's heart beat with delight, but the old groom who had had the care of them stood crossly by, and I the owner of this wonderful creature with hate and envy, not a day passed without his bringing some story against the youth to his master. But the king understood all about the matter and paid no attention. At last the groom declared that the young man had boasted that he could find the king's war horse, which had strayed into the forest several years ago, and had not been heard of since. Now the king had never ceased to mourn for his horse, so this time he listened to the tale which the groom had invented and sent for the youth. Find me my horse in three days, said he, or it will be the worst for you. The youth was thunderstruck at this command, but he only bowed and went off at once to the stable. Do not worry yourself, answered his own horse, ask the king to give you a hundred oxen and to let them be killed and cut into small pieces. Then we will start on our journey and ride till we reach a certain river. There a horse will come up to you, but take no notice of him. Soon another will appear, and this also you must leave alone. But when the third horse shows itself, throw my bridle over it. Everything happened just as the horse had said, and the third horse was safely bridled. Then the other horse spoke again. The magician's raven will try to eat us as we ride away, but throw it some of the oxen's flesh, and then I will gallop like the wind and carry you safe out of the dragon's clutches. So the young man did, as he was told, and brought the horse back to the king. The old stableman was very jealous when he heard of it, and wondered what he could do to injure the youth in the eyes of his royal master. At last he hit upon a plan, and told the king that the young man had boasted that he could bring home the king's wife, who had vanished many months before, without leaving a trace behind her. Then the king bade the young man come into his presence, and desired him to fetch the queen home again, as he had boasted he could do, and if he failed his head would pay the penalty. The poor youth's heart stood still as he listened. Find the queen! But how was he to do that, when nobody in the palace had been able to do so? Slowly he walked to the stable, and laying his head on his horse's shoulder he said, The king has ordered me to bring his wife home again. And how can I do that? When she disappeared so long ago, and no one can tell me anything about her. Cheer up! answered the horse. We will manage to find her. You have only got to ride me back to the same river that we went to yesterday, and I will plunge into it and take my proper shape again, for I am the king's wife who was turned into a horse by the magician from whom you saved me. Joyfully the young man sprang into the saddle and rode away to the banks of the river. Then he threw himself off, and waited while the horse plunged in. The moment it dipped its head into the water its black skin vanished, and the most beautiful woman in the world was floating on the water. She came smiling towards the youth and held out her hand, and he took it and led her back to the palace. Great was the king's surprise and happiness when he beheld his lost wife stand before him, and in gratitude to her rescuer he loaded him with gifts. You would have thought that after this the poor youth would have been left in peace. But no, his enemy the stableman hated him as much as ever, and laid a new plot for his undoing. This time he presented himself before the king, and told him that the youth was so puffed up with what he had done that he had declared he would seize the king's throne for himself. At this news the king waxed so furious that he ordered a gallows to be erected at once, and the young man to be hanged without a trial. He was not even allowed to speak in his own defense. But on the very steps of the gallows he sent a message to the king and begged as a last favor that he might play a tune on his zither. Leave was given him, and taking the instrument from under his cloak he touched the strings. Scarcely had the first note sounded, then the hangman and his helper began to dance, and the louder grew the music the higher they capered, till at last they cried for mercy. But the youth paid no heed and the tunes rang out more merrily than before, and by the time the sun set they both sank on the ground exhausted, and declared that the hanging must be put off till tomorrow. The story of the zither soon spread through the town, and on the following morning the king and his whole court, and a large crowd of people, were gathered at the foot of the gallows to see the youth hanged. Once more he asked a favor, permission to play on his fiddle, and this the king was graciously pleased to grant. But with the first notes the leg of every man in the crowd was lifted high and they danced to the sound of the music the whole day till darkness fell, and there was no light to hang the musician by. The third day came, and the youth asked leave to play on his flute. No, no, said the king, you made me dance all day yesterday, and if I do it again it will certainly be my death. You shall play no more tunes. Quick! The rope round his neck. At these words the young man looked so sorrowful that the couriers said to the king, he is very young to die. Let him play a tune if it will make him happy. So very unwillingly the king gave him leave, but first he had himself bound to a big fir tree, for fear that he should be made to dance. When he was made fast the young man began to blow softly on his lute, and bound, though he was, the king's body moved to the sound up and down the fir tree till his clothes were in tatters, and the skin nearly rubbed off his back, but the youth had no pity, and went on blowing, till suddenly the old magician appeared and asked, what danger are you in, my son, that you have sent for me? They want to hang me, answered the young man, the gallows are already and the hangman is only waiting for me to stop playing. Oh, I will put that right, said the magician. And taking the gallows he tore it up and flung it into the air, and no one knows where it came down. Who has ordered you to be hanged, asked he. The young man pointed to the king, who was still bound to the fir, and without wasting words, the magician took hold of the tree also. And with a mighty heave both the fir and the man went spinning through the air and vanished in the clouds after the gallows. Then the youth was declared to be free, and the people elected him for their king, and the stable helper drowned himself from envy, for after all if it had not been for him the young man would have remained poor all the days of his life. The end of Chapter 12, Recording by Jenny Lundack, South Padre Island, recorded in July 2010.