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Title: The Folk-Tales of the Magyars - Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others
Author: Various
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Folk-Tales of the Magyars - Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others" ***
The Folk-Lore Society,
for Collecting and Printing
Relics of Popular Antiquities, &c.
Established in the Year MDCCCLXXVIII.
[Illustration: Alter et Idem.]
PUBLICATIONS
OF
THE FOLK-LORE SOCIETY.
XIII. (1886).
* * * * * *
List of Officers of the Society,
1888-1889.
PRESIDENT.
ANDREW LANG, ESQ., M.A.
VICE-PRESIDENTS.
W. R. S. RALSTON, M.A. THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF STRAFFORD. EDWARD B.
TYLOR, LL.D., F.R.S.
DIRECTOR.
G. L. GOMME, F.S.A., 1, Beverley Villas, Barnes Common, S.W.
COUNCIL.
HON. JOHN ABERCROMBY. THE EARL BEAUCHAMP, F.S.A. EDWARD BRABROOK, F.S.A.
LOYS BRUEYRE. MISS C. S. BURNE. EDWARD CLODD. J. G. FRAZER, M.A. G. L.
GOMME, F.S.A. S. HARTLAND, F.S.A. A. GRANGER HUTT, F.S.A. W. F. KIRBY.
SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, Bt., F.R.S. REV. DR. RICHARD MORRIS. ALFRED NUTT. T.
F. ORDISH. Lt.-Gen. PITT-RIVERS, D.C.L. F.R.S., F.S.A., ETC. PROFESSOR
A. H. SAYCE, M.A. CAPTAIN R. C. TEMPLE. J. S. UDAL. HENRY B. WHEATLEY,
F.S.A.
HON. TREASURER.
EDWARD CLODD, 19, Carleton Road, Tufnell Park, N.
AUDITORS.
G. L. APPERSON. JOHN TOLHURST, F.S.A.
LOCAL SECRETARIES.
Ireland: G. H. KINAHAN. South Scotland: WILLIAM GEORGE BLACK. North
Scotland: Rev. WALTER GREGOR. India: Captain R. C. TEMPLE. China: J.
STEWART LOCKHART.
HONORARY SECRETARY.
J. J. FOSTER, 36, Alma Square, St. John's Wood, N.W.
* * * * * *
THE FOLK-TALES OF THE MAGYARS.
Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others.
Translated and Edited, with Comparative Notes,
by
THE REV. W. HENRY JONES
and
LEWIS L. KROPF.
London:
Published For The Folk-Lore Society
by
Elliot Stock, 62, Paternoster Row.
1889.
Westminster: Printed by Nichols and Sons, 25, Parliament Street.
TO
PROFESSOR ARMINIUS VAMBÉRY,
WHOSE INDEFATIGABLE LABOURS AND INDOMITABLE ZEAL HAVE DONE SO MUCH TO
ADVANCE OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MANKIND: AND WHOSE ILLUSTRIOUS LIFE IS SO
BRIGHT AN EXAMPLE TO EVERY STUDENT,
This Work
ON THE STORIES OF THE FATHERLAND HE LOVES SO WELL AND SERVES SO
FAITHFULLY
Is Dedicated.
PREFACE.
A vast and precious store of Folk-Lore is to be found amongst the
Magyars as yet but little known to English readers, and so it is hoped
that this work on the subject may prove of some value to the student of
Comparative Folk-Lore. The difficulty of the language is one which makes
it well nigh impossible for the unaided foreigner to do anything like
justice to the stories. We laboured together often till dawn to make the
translation as literal as possible, that the reader might have as true a
rendering of the Magyar story-teller's method and manner as so different
a tongue as English would permit.
Whilst engaged on the Finnish stories we received the greatest help from
Finnish friends, especially Mr. A. Nieminen, Dr. Fagerlund, Dr. Krohn,
Dr. Rancken, Professor Freudenthal, Mr. Halleen, and Mr. Walter von
Bonsdorff. In the Lapp stories Professor Friis of Christiania has ever
been a true helper. Amongst numerous kindly helpers we tender thanks to
Dr. Retzius, Stockholm; Professor Gittée, Charleroi; the Rev. Henry
Jebb, of Firbeck Hall; Mr. Quigstad, of Troms; Mr. Nordlander; Mr. O. P.
Petersson, Hernösand; Mr. Lindholm; Dr. R. Köhler; Baron Nordenskjöld;
and the Rev. Walter H. James, rector of Fleet.
We regret that we cannot do more than acknowledge the courtesy of the
late Dr. Greguss (Buda Pest), whose lamented death removed a scholar and
friend to Englishmen.
If this collection adds a mite to the knowledge of man, our labours will
not have been in vain.[1]
W. H. J.
L. L. K.
[1] Mr. Kropf desires it to be stated, that he is not responsible for
the Introduction and Notes beyond supplying certain portions of the
material for their compilation.
INTRODUCTION.
Before the arrival of the Magyars, Hungary was the "cock-pit of eastern
Europe;" its history one incessant struggle between nation and nation,
which either perished or was driven out by some more powerful neighbour.
First we hear of the subjection of what was known as Pannonia, by the
Romans; then, when that great power began to wane, a motley horde under
the great Attila swept down and founded a kingdom. "Attila died in
Pannonia in 453. Almost immediately afterwards the empire he had amassed
rather than consolidated fell to pieces. His too-numerous sons began to
quarrel about their inheritance; while Ardaric, the King of the Gepidae,
placed himself at the head of a general revolt of the dependent nations.
The inevitable struggle came to a crisis near the river Netad, in
Pannonia, in a battle in which 30,000 of the Huns and their
confederates, including Ellak,[1] Attila's eldest son, were slain. The
nation thus broken rapidly dispersed. One horde settled under Roman
protection in Little Scythia (the Dobrudsha); others in Dacia Ripensis
(on the confines of Servia and Bulgaria), or on the southern borders of
Pannonia."[2] A tradition asserts that the Magyars are descendants of
those Huns, who, after their defeat, returned to their homes in Asia. On
the other hand, one of their most learned men says, we cannot "form an
accurate idea as to the part the Hungarians took in the irruption of the
Huns, with which event they are associated in national tradition." But
yet he adds, "we fairly claim that the ancestors of the Hungarians took
part in the great devastating campaigns which Attila carried on against
Rome and the Christian West, as far as France." Legend carries us still
further back, saying that the giant Nimrod had two sons named Hunyor and
Magyar, from whom the Huns and Magyars descended.[3] Leaving legend, in
history we find that the Magyars appeared in Europe about 884, first on
the Ural, later on the banks of the middle Volga; and then, marching
westward, passed over the Danube and the Bug, crossing the Carpathians
between 888 and 900, under Álmos, the father of Árpád,[4] the founder of
modern Hungary, who is said to have claimed the country as his
inheritance from Attila. The Magyars, then, are part of the numerous
hordes of Turco-Tartar origin which, impelled by some mighty impulse,
left their home amid the Altai mountains, and, conquering the divided
forces on the rich plains of Hungary, settled down, and so founded the
race whose tales form the body of this work.[5]
Another people, the Székely,[6] speak a dialect of Magyar, which, like
other Magyar dialects, differs but slightly from the written language.
This race claims to be descendants of those Hunnish tribes that remained
in Europe after the defeats. They say, that when the Magyars arrived in
modern Hungary they found a Magyar-speaking people (the Székely)
inhabiting parts of Transylvania. This is confirmed to some extent by
the statement of Constantinus Porphyrogenitus, who, writing about 950,
asserted that, amongst others, some Magyar tribes lived on the banks of
the rivers Maros and Körös (Transylvania). Kriza, too, quotes several
Székely sayings referring to the Székely-Magyar relationship, _e.g._:
"A Székely has borne the Magyar."
"If there were no Székelys in the world, there would not be any
Magyars."
"There is the same difference between a Székely and a Magyar as there is
between a man's son and his grandson."
"Let the Magyar be thankful, that the Székely is his acquaintance."
With regard to the alleged descent of the Székelys from the Huns, the
evidence in proof of such a pedigree is very meagre. First, it has not
as yet--with any degree of accuracy--been determined who the Huns were.
Prof. Vambéry has, with infinite pains, collected and analysed some
seventy words, mostly proper names--all that has come down to us of the
old Hunnish language--and come to the conclusion that the Huns and Avars
for the greater part belonged to the Turco-Tartar branch of the
Ural-Altaic race; yet he is bound to acknowledge that he would gladly
welcome a few historical facts to support him in his conclusions, which
are built upon an almost entirely philological basis.[7] Indeed, it
seems as though the term "Hun" was a sort of conventional designation,
like "Scythian," or "Barbarian" with the ancient Greeks and Romans; or
"Frenghi" with the modern Turks. Attila and the various races he pressed
into his service were, of course, the Huns _par excellence_. After his
death and the fatal battle near the river Netad his hordes appear to
have well-nigh vanished from Europe; but their terrible deeds left an
indelible impression upon the people who were unfortunate enough to have
been brought into contact with the "scourge of God" and his fierce
warriors. In the lapse of time all kinds of weird traditions gathered
round their names, in the usual way, when great names pass into the
possession of the Folk Historian;[8] and so they drifted through legends
of saints into the region of myths. Thus we find the name Hüne (Heune,
Hewne, Huyne) becomes synonymous with "giant," and to this day the
Westphalian and Dutch peasant speaks of the great tumuli as "Hünen
gräber"--graves of the giants, or Huns.[9] To add to the confusion, it
would appear that there were some German tribes who were known as
Hunes. Mr. Karl Blind has pointed out in the _Gentleman's Magazine_,[10]
that our own Venerable Bede speaks of Hunes as being among the tribes of
Germany that came over to Britain together with the Saxons.
Elsewhere[11] he explains "the tribal origin of Siegfried (of the
Nibelungen lied) as a German Hüne;" a word which has nothing whatever to
do with the Mongolian Huns. We know mediæval writers were not very
particular about facts, and the _licentia poetica_ was claimed not only
by poets, but also by historiographers, as an indisputable privilege.
Thus, João Barros, in his chronicle of Clarimundus,[12] calmly tells us
that Count Henry of Portugal, the Navigator, was of Hungarian descent,
and that he found the statement in a Magyar book.[13] This alleged
pedigree was the cause of a fierce controversy amongst Hungarian
savants, and was fully threshed out in the early part of the present
century.[14]
Vigfusson[15] remarks that the northern poet, whom he designates the
"Tapestry poet," uses Hunar (Huns), Hynske (Hunnish) as a vague word for
"foreign." Probably the East Baltic folk would have been Huns to the
earlier poets. With regard to the German and Scandinavian Huns, it is
noteworthy what Olaus Magnus writes with regard to the "Huns" of his
time. The learned prelate says that "in provincia Middelpadensi versus
Boreales partes Suetiæ superioris, ubi ferè major pars virorum Huni
nomine appellantur tamquam populi clarius contra Hunos olim
belligerantes ac triumphantes."[16] His statement is borne out by his
colleague, Joannes Magnus,[17] who asserts that "non desunt qui dicant
ipsos Hunnos à Septentrionale parte Scandiæ utra Helsingorum terras ex
Medelphatia primum erupisse: in qua etiam hodie plurimi præstantissimæ
fortitudinis homines inveniuntur, qui Hunni proprio nomine appellantur,
quique magna et præclara opera in tyrannos, qui patriæ libertatem
vexaverat, peregerunt."
In the face of all this, it is quite evident how difficult a task awaits
those who attempt to identify the lineal descendants of the Huns: and
those who uphold the Hunnish descent of the Székelys do not appear, as
yet, to have advanced sufficient historical grounds to establish the
connection of the modern Székelys with the Huns of Attila.[18]
It is well known that the Hun descent of the Magyars and Székelys has
equally been questioned. Savants of such authority as Budenz and
Hunfalvy disclaim the Hun relationship, and endeavour to prove the
Finn-Ugrian origin of the Magyars. Whereas Professor Vambéry, in his
work on the "Origin of the Magyars," which received so favourable a
reception at the hands of the whole learned world, defends, as we saw
above, a Turco-Tartar descent.
It lies far beyond the limits of this work to give even a brief outline
of the history of the Székelys: yet a few data may not be out of place
to show that, although they are at the present time, and mayhap always
have been, a Magyar-speaking people, yet they are in many respects
distinct from the race known as the Magyars. Ibn Dasta, an Arab
writer,[19] at the end of the ninth century, informs us that in his time
some Bulgarians lived on the banks of the River Itil (Volga); and that
they consisted of three tribes, viz.: the Berzuls, the Esseghels, and
the Uz. He further says that "the first territory of the Magyars lies
between the country of the Bisseni and the Esseghel Bulgarians."
Another Arab writer, Ibn Muhalhal, about the middle of the tenth
century, mentions a people named "Jikil," who lived next to the
"Bajnak." If the writers who would identify in this Ashkal, Esseghel, or
Jikil people, the parents of the Székely race, be right in their
conclusions, then the Siculi (as they are called in Latin deeds) are of
Bulgarian descent.[20] But we know full well how dangerous it is to
build up theories on a mere similarity of names amongst barbarous or
semi-barbarous races. The first reliable information we have about them
is that about the year 1116 A.D. Bisseni and Siculi formed the
body-guard of the Magyar King Stephen II. in his war against the Czechs.
They supplied the vanguard of the army of King Géjza against Henry of
Austria about 1146. More than half a century later, _i.e._ A.D. 1211,
Andreas II. presented some uninhabited territory in Transylvania to the
Teutonic knights; and, in a deed dated 1213, William, Bishop of
Transylvania, granted the tithes of his territory to the same order, but
reserved to himself the right of collecting them from all Magyar or
Székely immigrants who might settle on the lands in question.[21] King
Béla IV. ordered the Székelys[22] to supply him with one hundred mounted
warriors in war; and later on, to show them his gratitude for their
faithful services, he created them military nobles:[23] "Quod non sub
certo numero (in a body as hitherto) sed eo modo sicut servientes
regales, per se et personaliter armata nobiscum exercituare
teneantur."[24] The Székelys of Hungary Proper gradually disappear, but
the Siculi of Transylvania figure throughout the pages of Hungarian
history as a separate people, with institutions and privileges of their
own, and acting as a sort of border-fencibles in the numerous wars with
the enemies of the Magyars. They furnished a separate title to the
Prince of Transylvania,[25] and, although recent reforms have swept away
old barriers, yet one still hears people speaking of the three nations
of Transylvania, viz. the Magyars, the Székelys, and the Saxons.[26]
Whether they ever spoke a language of their own we are unable to say;
they speak several dialects, which have been carefully studied by
Kriza,[27] himself a Székely by birth, and which possess peculiarities
not to be found amongst the Magyars, or any other part of the realm of
St. Stephen. A passage[28] in a work entitled "Hungaria et Attila," by
Nicolaus Oláh, Archbishop of Esztergom (died 1568), might, perhaps, be
quoted to prove that an independent Székely language had existed once,
but there is an ambiguity about the statement of the learned prelate
which makes it useless to the philologist. At any rate, we do not
possess a single scrap of the old language, if it ever existed.
Having thus made ourselves acquainted with the Székelys, we may proceed
to consider the other Magyar-speaking nationalities.
The Csángós[29] are Hungarian settlers in Moldavia; there are so many
similarities in their tongue to the Székely dialects that Hunfalvy
appears to be quite confident that they are a people of Székely
origin.[30] Of late years an attempt has been made to resettle them in
the less populous crown lands in Hungary; the result, as one might
expect, is, that some are content, whilst others lust after the
flesh-pots of Moldavia.
Next come the Kúns (Cumanians). The non-Magyar writers,[31] who have
made the old language of this people their study, declare it, with
almost unanimous consent, to be a Turkish dialect, whereas the Magyar
writers, with very few exceptions, staunchly defend the Magyar origin of
the Cumanians.[32]
Foremost in the ranks of the latter party was the late Stephen Gyárfás,
who denied that a _lingua Cumenesca_ had ever existed, and that the
various extant specimens are the remnants of the language of a people of
Magyar descent, who had become Turks during the lapse of centuries.[33]
His most powerful antagonist is Count Géjza Kuun, the learned editor of
the _Codex Cumanicus_,[34] who espouses the cause of the Turkish party.
Besides the valuable Glossary preserved in the Codex, several versions
of the Lord's Prayer and other scraps of the Cumanian tongue are in
existence, and have been examined by competent scholars, and pronounced
to be of undoubted Turkish origin.[35]
Jazygo-Cumanians have been quoted in the note, and so we proceed to
consider the next race--if one may use the word--viz.: the Jazyges,
formerly a military tribe, who, together with the Cumanians, live in
central Hungary, in the vicinity of the capital, and occupy a territory
on the banks of the rivers Danube, Zagyva, Sárrét, Tisza, and Körös.
From time immemorial, until quite recent times, they enjoyed certain
privileges and administered their own affairs in three districts--the
Jászság, Kis-Kúnság, and Nagy-Kúnság, entirely separate from the
surrounding population, thus forming a state within a state. They had
however to surrender some of their old rights in 1848, and by the law of
1876 (cap. xxxiii.), which readjusted the political divisions of the
kingdom, the limits of their territory disappeared altogether from the
map of Hungary.[36] With regard, then, to the nationality of the Jász
people, they are found at all periods of history in company with the
Cumanians, and so, as their institutions are the same as their fellow
armigerents, we may safely assume with Hunfalvy that they are a branch
of the Cumans, if they be not offspring of the same mother-stock.
Next come the Palócz folk,[37] who live scattered among the other races
in several of the northern counties of Hungary, and speak a dialect of
their own. Hunfalvy asserts that they are the same people as the
"Polovczi" mentioned by early Russian and Slavonic writers. And as
Jerney, in his paper _The Palócz Nation and The Palócz Chronicle_, has
proved beyond doubt that, whatever the Magyar Chronicles and Byzantine
writers relate anent the Cumans can be traced, statement for statement,
in Russian and Polish writers, with reference to the Polovczi, Hunfalvy
draws the conclusion that the Palócz people are Cumans.[38]
Their name first occurs in Russian Annals A.D. 1061, and the Magyar
savant to whose rich store of learning this work is so deeply indebted
thinks that the migration of the Cumans into Hungary took place in two
distinct streams, one, an earlier one, from the North, _viâ_ the Slave
countries across the Northern Carpathians, and another, later one from
the south-east, through the passes and defiles of the south-eastern
extension of the same range of mountains.
Before leaving this part of the subject, the reader must be reminded
that all the foregoing races or nationalities at the present time speak
one or other Magyar dialect,[39] and that the old Cuman tongue is the
only other language of which we know anything.[40]
Having, we hope, somewhat cleared the way as to people amongst whom the
stories have been collected, we may now proceed to say a few words about
the tales themselves. Of course, the stories will be found to bear a
strong resemblance to other collections, as indeed they must do; the
very fact of the striking way in which not only tales, but even little
superstitions, reappear in all manner of strange places,[41] is of
itself a fact which is of the deepest interest to those who study the
history of man. We have attempted to give some few variants to the tales
in this work, chiefly confining ourselves to Lapp and Finnish tales,
which are but little known in England, and of which, as of the Magyar,
there is a rich store. The more one considers comparative folk-lore, the
more one is convinced that many of these tales were the common property
of mankind before they migrated from their Asiatic home.[42] Of course
local circumstances often colour the stories, but do not change the
theme. Amidst the stories from Hungary we find, as we might presume, the
Székely stories telling of snow-clad mountains, whilst those from the
banks of the Danube dwell on the beauties of the Hungarian plains. The
fierce conflicts of the past, too, have left their marks on the stories,
and so we find the Turkish Sultan[43] and the Dog-headed Tartar[44] as
the tyrants of the tale; and even, in one case, so modern a fact as the
French invasion[45] is used to frighten an old-world witch. We see later
on the influence of Mohammedanism, and also the marks of
Christianity,[46] in some tales which become as it were, a folk-lore
palimpsest. Nor must we omit other ways by which the tales have been
modified. Many of the mediæval romances were, of course, translated into
Hungarian; and even to this day the penny bookstall is always present at
fairs and popular gatherings where "yards of literature" are to be
obtained for a nominal sum. The vendor cannot afford a booth or stall,
so a mat or tarpaulin is spread on the ground, and weighted at the four
corners with brickbats or paving stones, hence the Hungarian name
"ponyva-irodalom" (tarpaulin literature). Here we find mediaeval
romances, bits of national history, biographies and panegyrics of famous
robbers, the wicked doings of the mistress of some castle and her
punishment, the exploits of Magyar heroes, the chronicles of Noodledom,
in prose, or versified by some such favourite poet of the people as
Peter Tatár; and by this means certain tales have been imported, others
modified. Then again, the wandering students were entertained by the
country folk during their peregrinations, and no doubt in return amused
the old folks with the latest news from the town, and the young ones
with tales from the Greek and Roman Mythologies.[47] Another mode of
dissemination and modification was the soldiers. When the Hapsburgs were
at the height of their glory the emperor-king's soldiers were scattered
far and wide over Europe; and, after long years of service in an
infantry regiment and absence from home, the old private returned to his
native village, and at eventide in the village inn related how he, as
"Sergeant of Hussars," caught with his own hand the Emperor Napoleon,
and only let him go at the earnest entreaties of his wife, and upon
receiving a rich bribe in gold.[48] The old soldier was well received in
every family, and enjoyed great authority as a man who had seen the
world. The children sat upon his knee, or stood round about him
open-mouthed, and listened to his marvellous yarns.[49]
In Hungary, as in other countries, until the labours of the Brothers
Grimm directed attention to the importance of the Folk-tales, nothing
was done in the way of collecting them; and, even after Grimm's work
appeared, no move was made in Hungary until Henszlman read his paper in
1847 before the Kisfaludy Society on the "Popular Tales of Hungary," in
which paper he examined some 14 tales which afterwards appeared in
Erdélyi's Collection, vols. 1 and 2. Ladislaus Arany in May 1867 read
another paper before the same society and according to his calculation
some 240 tales had been collected up to that date: the collections
quoted by him were as follows:--
John Erdélyi,[50] _Folk-Songs and Popular
Tales_, 3 vols. containing 34 tales
George Gaál,[51] _Hungarian Folk-Tales_, 3 vols. " 53 "
John Erdélyi, _Hungarian Popular Tales_, 1 vol. " 13 "
Ladislaus Merényi, _Original Popular Tales_, }
2 vols. }
}
Ladislaus Merényi, _Popular Tales from the_ }
_Valley of the Sajó_, 2 vols. } " 65 "
}
Ladislaus Merényi, _Popular Tales from the_ }
_Banks of the Danube_, 2 vols. }
Ladislaus Arany, _Original Popular Tales_, 1 vol. " 35 "
John Kriza,[52] _Wild Roses_, 1 vol.[53] " 20 "
Julius Pap, _Palócz Folk-Poetry_, 1 vol. " 6 "
Count John Majláth,[54] _Hungarian Fairy Tales_,
_Sagas and Popular Tales_, translated from the
German by G. Kazinczy, 1 vol. " 6 "
Maurus Jókai, _Witty Tales of the
Hungarian Folk_, 1 vol. " 8 "
-------
Total, 240
Of these, Erdélyi's first collection and Kriza's _Wild Roses_ are the
most important, and the translation of them form the bulk of this
volume. Since 1867 the work of collecting the Popular Tales has been
going on steadily, and the _Hungarian Language Guardian_ (Magyar
Nyelvör) is a paper specially devoted to the purpose: publishing popular
sayings, proverbs, children's games, nursery rhymes, &c. Very little of
the Folk-lore treasure is known outside of Hungary. There is Count
Majláth's collection, which appeared originally in German, and also a
German edition of Gaál, and one by Stier, which contains some of
Erdélyi's stories. In English the only translations we are aware of are
the tale of "The talking grapes, the smiling apple, and the tinkling
apricot," from Erdélyi's collection, which was translated by Mr. E. D.
Butler, and appeared in a London suburban paper; and another tale, "The
Round Stone," in the February number of the _St. Nicholas Magazine_,
1882; so that this collection opens up new ground. The great difficulty
in considering these tales--in common with the Finn, Esthonian, and
Lapp--is the language; and the aim of the present translation is but to
be as literal as possible in its rendering of the stories; there being
no attempt whatever made to polish or beautify the tales, but simply an
endeavour to reproduce as near as may be the stories as told by the
people; in many cases, especially with regard to the Székely stories,
this has been a work of very great difficulty, on account of the
dialect, and must plead for the many shortcomings in the translations.
A brief consideration of some points in Magyar Folk-lore may be found of
interest in a study of the stories. And I am indebted for the following
information on giants, fairies, and witches to a valuable paper,
entitled _Mythological Elements in Székely Folk-lore and Folk-life_,
read by Kozma before the Hungarian Academy in 1882.
I. GIANTS.[55]
Many of the characteristics of the Magyar giants are the same as those
to be found in the Greek and German mythologies, but we do not find
anything extraordinary in their appearance, such as one eye--as
Cyclops[56], or sundry heads as the northern giants, nor redundant
fingers and toes as the Jews; they are simply big men. There is no trace
of any struggle between the gods and the giants in Magyar mythology.
They are said to be sons of witches,[57] and as tall as towers,[58] and
step from mountain-top to mountain-top as they walk.
The length of their stride and the pace at which they walk is
illustrated in a tradition, according to which the giants who inhabited
a fortress called Kadicsavár, near the River Nyikó, were in the act of
shaving when the bells rang first from the church-tower of
Gyula-Fejérvár, at the second ringing they dressed, on the third ringing
they sat in church.[59]
Near Szotyor in Háromszék[60] there is a rock, which is called the
"Giant's Stone," on the top of this there is a cavity resembling in
shape the heel of a man; the diameter of this hole is five feet, and
popular tradition says it is the imprint of a giant's heel.
When the giant is angry he strikes a blow with his fist on the rock, and
traces of his fist are shown now-a-days on a rock near Ikavar; his
footstep is shown in the neighbourhood of Kézdi-Borosnyó, on a rocky
ledge near a spring, where he used to come down to drink.
With one foot he stands on the mountain where Csiki-Bálványos-vár castle
stands; with the other on a mountain opposite, and bending down, he
picks up the water of the River Olt, running in the valley below, in a
gigantic bucket, with one swoop.
He mounts a horse of such size that it stands with its hind legs on a
mountain in Bodok in Háromszék, while its fore-legs rest on another
mountain in Bickfalú, and its head reaches far into Wallachia, where it
grazes in a green clover-field.
On short outings he walks; on long journeys he goes on horseback; his
steed is a tátos,[61] with whom he holds many conversations. On
returning home from a long ride he throws his mace, weighing forty
hundredweights, from a distance of forty miles (= about 180 English
miles), which drops into the courtyard of the castle, and penetrating
into the ground taps a subterranean spring.[62]
While the giant of the Germans lives during the flint-period, and uses
gigantic stones and masses of rock as weapons, the Hungarian giant uses
swords and maces of iron and copper, and also goes in for wrestling. He
is not a cannibal. He is fond of a good supper and warm food, and is not
a teetotaller. He always takes plenty of provisions on the journey.
Kozma has come across a tale, "Iron-made Peter," in which there figure
six giants, each of whom is proficient in one thing or another. They
bear names which characterise their special accomplishments. In English
they would be as follows: Sharp-eye, Fast-runner, Far-thrower, Glutton,
Drinker, Shiverer. The first is sitting on a mountain-peak reaching up
to heaven's vault, and keeps on bowing in every direction, muttering
"Which way shall I look? Is there nothing else to be seen? I have
already seen everything in the world." The second is wandering about a
vast plain, the boundaries of which cannot even be seen, and is moaning,
evidently in great trouble. "Where shall I run? In which direction? No
sooner do I start than I am at the end of this place." The third is seen
sitting among huge pieces of rock, and crying, "Where shall I throw now?
Which way? The whole world is covered by the stones I have thrown." The
fourth is watching a bullock roasting, and continues yelling, "Oh, how
ravenously hungry I am! What can I eat?" The fifth is rolling about on
the sea-shore, roaring, "Oh, how thirsty I am! What will become of me?
What can I drink? If I drain the ocean there will not be left anything
for to-morrow!" The sixth is shivering on the top of a huge stack of
wood all in a blaze, and exclaiming, "Oh, how cold I am! I am freezing."
The hero of the tale finds suitable employment for each of the giants.
"Fast-runner" goes on an errand into the seven-times-seventh country,
and returns in five minutes, although he goes to sleep on the road from
the sleeping draught administered to him by a witch. "Sharp-eye"
discovers him asleep; and "Far-thrower" knocks away the pillow from
underneath his head, thus enabling him to return by the appointed time.
"Glutton" consumes 366 fat oxen within six hours. "Drinker" empties
during the same interval the contents of 366 casks, each holding 100
buckets of wine. "Shiverer" creeps into a furnace, which has been
brought to, and kept in, a glowing heat for the last twenty-four years
by twenty-four gipsies,[63] and by so doing lowers the temperature so
that his mates, who have gone with him, are shivering with cold although
they are wrapped up in thick rugs.[64]
The giants in northern regions live in six-storied diamond castles, or
in golden fortresses which swivel round on a leg; more generally,
however, they inhabit fortresses built by their own hands on the top of
lofty mountains or steep rocks. In Székelyland the ruins of thirty-six
such castles are existing, all of which are ascribed by the people to
the giants. Some of their names show this; they are called the "Giant's
Rock," the "Giant's Castle," the "Giant's Hill." In one case (Egyeskö in
Csikszèk) they show the giants' table and bench in the rock. Sometimes,
however, the castles are inhabited by fairies.
Tall mountain chains are sometimes said to be roads built by giants.
Their names are "Attila's Track," "Devil's Ridge," &c. These roads were
constructed by devils and magic cocks who were in the service of the
giants. Hence also the name "Cocks' Ridge." In one case, however, near
Száraz Ajta, the ridges were made by giants themselves,[65] who used
silver-shared ploughs drawn by golden-haired bullocks for this purpose.
The giants left their homes when "the country was given away to
mankind," or when "modern mankind commenced to exist." When the
husbandmen appeared and began to till the lands in the valleys and
lowlands the giants did not associate with men, but kept to their
castles and only visited the impenetrable woods.
There is a tale which occurs in several localities about a giant's
daughter who finds a husbandman, picks up him and his team and puts them
into her apron and carries them off as toys, showing them to her father.
The father exclaiming angrily, "Take him back, as he and his
fellow-creatures are destined to be the lords of the globe," or "Their
anger might cause our ruin," or "They will be our successors." We thus
see that, while in the German tale the giant of Nideck-burg in Alsacia
bids his daughter to take back the ploughman and his team for fear that
by preventing his tilling the land the bread-supply might fail, in the
Hungarian tales the giant openly acknowledges the superior power of the
human race.[66]
The giants, unlike their brethren in foreign lands, are gregarious and
live under a royal dynasty. They hold assemblies, at which their king
presides. Several royal residences exist in Székeland. Near Besenyö
there is one that is called "Csentetetö." Tradition has even preserved
the giant-king's name, which was Bábolna. This king used to convoke the
other giants to the assembly with huge golden bells. On feeling his
approaching death he ordered the bells to be buried in a deep well in
the castle, but on feast days they are still to be distinctly heard
ringing, which sets the whole rock vibrating.
The name of another king of giants is to be found in Kriza's "Prince
Mirkó" (Kutyafejü = Dogheaded.)
Sometimes the giants were good-natured and full of kindness towards the
weak.[67]
They marry, their wives are fairies, so are their daughters. They make
very affectionate fathers. They had no male issue, as their race was
doomed to extermination. They fall in love, and are fond of courting.
Near Bikkfalva, in Háromszék, the people still point out the "Lovers'
Bench" on a rock, where the amorous giant of Csigavár used to meet his
sweetheart, the "fairy of Veczeltetö."
The giants lived to a great age. Old "Doghead" remembers a dream he
dreamt 600 years ago. His friend Knight Mezei finds him after a
separation of 600 years, and they live happy for a great many years
after.[68]
They have magic powers. They know when a stranger is hidden in their
home. Doghead knows who has thrown back his mace from a distance of 180
English miles. They are acquainted with the conjuring formulæ and charms
of the fairies, and know how to overcome them. They have a thorough
knowledge of geography, and can give advice to those who enter their
service, &c. They have great physical strength, and can build huge
castles and roads, subdue whole countries, amass treasures[69] which
they have guarded even after their death. Magic beings, animals, and
implements await their commands.
In the castle of Hereczvára, near Oltszem, the giants were negroes, and
their servants were black dwarfs. Among the magic animals who guarded
the giant's treasures we may mention the bullock with golden hair, the
tátos, &c. Of weapons, charms, &c., Doghead's copper mace, Prince
Mirkó's magic sword, the wine kept in a cask in the seventh cellar, each
drop of which equals the strength of five thousand men.
The king of the giants of Görgény is bullet-proof; but if a man who is
the seventh son of his mother (and all the elder brothers of whom are
alive) casts a bullet, at the first appearance of the new moon, by a
fire of wheat straw, this bullet will kill the monarch. Such a man was
found, and the bullet was made, and it killed the king. The other giant,
now being without a leader, evacuated the fortress and withdrew to
Hungary Proper. Thus we see a giant can only be killed with a magic
weapon.
In one of Kozma's tales the hero is in possession of a rusty padlock,
from which two giants appear whenever he commands. They produce by
charms, a golden cloak, and a golden fortress on the swivel principle,
which they hand over to their master in a nutshell. They then clothe the
poor lad in a copper suit and seat him on a copper steed so that he may
appear decently dressed before the king; they change his miserable hovel
into a fine palace at eleven o'clock, and at noon the whole royal
family, who are his guests, sit down to a sumptuous dinner; they carry
their master and his royal bride across a sea of flames, &c. There are
several other tales which attribute the power of flying to giants.
Some of the giants have grown old and died a natural death. The greater
part of them, however, were killed by enterprising knights. They have
buried their treasures in deep wells, in huge mountains, or in extensive
cellars under the fortresses. In the well of the Várhegy in Száraz-Ajta
there lies hidden the silver plough and the golden bullock; in the
cellar the silver plough with the fluid gold. In the cellars of
Hereczvára in black casks the accumulated treasure of the negro-giants
is guarded by the black dwarfs, who spend their time in eating,
drinking, and dancing. In the cellar of Kézdi-Szent-Lélek castle the
treasure is guarded by a copper greyhound. In the well and cellar of the
Várbércz, near Kis-Borosnyó, the gigantic golden bells and other
treasures of the king of giants are guarded by two black goats. Near
Angyalos, in the Bábolna dyke, King Bábolna's golden sun and golden lamb
are guarded by two black greyhounds and a snow-white stallion in full
harness. In the well of Csigavàr there is a gold bucket on a golden
chain, and in the bowels of the Tepej mountain, near Alsó-Rákos, the
rams with golden fleece, &c.
Some of the cellar doors open every third, others every seventh year.
People have been inside, but were careless and lost the treasure on the
way back to the surface, others were more careful, and succeeded in
bringing some of it out; but the moment the wind touched it it changed
into dry leaves or bits of charcoal. Some unwise people have been
foolhardy enough to try the expedition a second time, but the huge iron
doors closed behind them. But whereas the natives have hitherto been
unsuccessful in recovering the hidden treasure, foreigners come and
carry it off wholesale on the backs of horses, which are shod with shoes
turned the wrong way.[70]
II. FAIRIES.[71]
Fairy, in Hungarian, "tündér," from the same root as "tün" (verb) and
"tünés" (noun) = comparitio, apparitio, and "tündökōl" = to shine.
Cf. the Mongolian "Tinghir."
The queen of the fairies is sometimes called a goddess. Thus, south of
the sulphur cave, Büdös, near Altorja, behind a mountain called the
Priests' Mountain, is situated the very ancient village of Ikafalva,
through which runs a brook named Furus. According to the tradition, the
ancestors of the people of the village were led to this place more than
1,000 years ago, in the time of the conquest of the country, by a hero
who encouraged his warriors in the name of "the goddess Furuzsina." The
hero fell in the struggle, and on the spot where his blood had flowed a
spring appeared, close to which the warriors built the present village,
and named the brook after their goddess. The water of this brook is
collected, even at the present day, into ponds; and drinking from this
"blood and water" has made the villagers so strong that they have quite
a name for physical strength in the neighbourhood. If a lad of Ikafalva
performs some feat of pluck or strength they say: "It is no wonder, he
has grown up on Furus water!"
Although the fairies, as a rule, are kind, good-natured persons, and
take the hero's part in the tales, the Székely folk-lore furnishes a
case to the contrary, _i.e._ that of two fairies, "Firtos" and "Tartod,"
the former being the queen of the good, the latter the queen of the bad,
fairies.[72]
Kozma has found another variation of the first-named tale in "Fairy
Helena." Helena's father blows across a broad river, whereupon a golden
bridge appears. The young fairy takes a "kourbash," and wipes a rusty
table-fork with it, which at once changes into a steed with golden hair,
on which her lover, the prince, flees to Italy. When they discover that
they are followed, Helena spits on the floor,[73] on the door-handle,
and on the hinge of the door, whereupon the planks, the handle, and the
hinge commence to speak to the king's messengers from behind the closed
door, and the fugitives gain time to make their escape. Her father is
sent after them in the shape of a gigantic spotted eagle, who with the
tip of one wing touches heaven and with the other earth. On the road the
same things happen as in "Fairy Elisabeth," with this difference, that
Helena's mother changes into a buffalo who drinks all the water in the
pond on which the lovers swim about as ducks, whereupon they change into
worms; and, as the mother cannot find them in the mud, she pronounces
the curse of oblivion upon them.
Their means of charming were: The pond of beautifying milk, dresses,
tears, the saliva, fascinating look, word of command, rejuvenating herb,
rejuvenating water, wound-healing herb, water of life and death, iron
bar, copper bridle, leather belt, gold and diamond rod, copper and gold
whip, at the cracking of which dragons and devils appear; magic wand,
curse of oblivion, sleeping draughts (wine), and the table that covers
itself. The daughter of Doghead rides on a tátos. The magic animals in
their service are: the cat and the cock, although the loud crowing of
the latter has, by indicating the time, very often a fatal influence on
fairies who are forgetful. One fairy queen, Dame Rapson, has the devil
himself in her service.
Their conjuring formulae are: "You are mine, I am thine." "Be there,
where you have come from!" "Fog before me, smoke behind me." "Hop, hop!
let me be, where I wish to be." "Hop, hop! they shall not know where I
have come from, nor where I am going to! Let me be, where my thoughts
are!" They can teach their magic formulae to their heroes.
As to _their occupations_. Of serious ones, our tales only mention
embroidery. Their more favourite pastimes seem to be: bathing, banquets,
singing, frivolous dances, and love adventures. After their nocturnal
dances, flowers spring up where their feet have touched the ground. If
anybody approaches them while they are dancing, they, in their unbounded
merriment, drag him also into the dance.
On one occasion they enticed a shepherd into Borza-vára Cave, and kept
him there for three days, amusing him with singing, dancing, playing
music, and cajoling; finally they invited him to a game of cards and
dismissed him with a big hatful of gold. From the castle-hill of
Makkfalva the merry song of the fairies can be heard now every night as
they dance round the castle-walls to the strains of music. They are
reserved in their love; but, having made their choice, they are
faithful, and their passion has no bounds. The daughter of Doghead is an
instance of this; she reveals to her hero her father's charms, in order
to ensure his victory in his struggle for life and death. The young and
pretty mistress of Kisvártetö Castle, near Zsögöd, in the county of
Csík, stood on a rock-ledge, waiting for the return of her husband from
the war, till she faded away in her grief. The impression of her foot
can still be seen in the rock. The fairy daughter of the giant who
inhabited the castle near Bereczk fell in love with a hero who played
the flute, disguised as a shepherd, at the foot of the rock; but her
haughty father smashed the shepherd with a huge piece of rock, which is
still to be seen in the bed of the brook. His daughter thereupon
escaped from the father's castle, and built a castle (Leányvár =
Maiden's Castle) near Ojtoz for herself, where she spent the rest of her
days mourning for her lover, until grief killed her. Another such a
pretty tale is associated with Firtos Castle. The fairy who lived here
was in love with a knight; and, notwithstanding that her father forbade
the intercourse, they secretly met in the garden every night. One
beautiful moonlight night she was standing on the brink of the rock,
when, as she extended her arm to assist her lover up the steep slope,
the knight's horse slipped, and they were precipitated arm in arm into
the depth below, and thus perished, united for ever in death. The horse
caught on a projecting piece of rock, and petrified. "Firtos's horse" is
still to be seen. Dame Rapson's daughter, Irma, a fairy, also fell a
victim to prohibited love, and fell from a lofty peak where her mother's
castle stood, with her lover, Zelemir, into the depth below, where Dame
Rapson found them, and died of a broken heart. They all three were
buried under the rock below, which tradition names "Zelemir's Tower."
At the south angle of the Firtos there is a group of rocks which is
called "Fairy Helena's Carriage," in which the fairies who lived in the
castle used to drive out on moonlight nights. But one night they were so
much engrossed in their enjoyments that they returned home late; and lo!
the cock crew, and the carriage turned into stone.
The fairies live in castles on lofty mountain peaks. They build their
castles themselves, or inherit them from giants. Sometimes they are at a
great distance, as _e.g._ Fairy Elisabeth's Castle in the town of
Johara, in the "Land of Black Sorrow."
Kozma enumerates the names of about 23 castles which belonged to fairies
and which still exist. The castle of Kadacs formerly belonged to giants,
upon whose extinction the fairies moved into it. Dame Rapson's castle
near Paraja was built of materials which were carried up on the almost
perpendicular side of the rock, to a height which makes one's head swim,
by a magic cat and cock. The road leading to the castle was constructed
by the Devil for a "mountain of gold," and a "valley of silver." Dame
Rapson owed the Devil his wages for several years, although he kept on
reminding her of it, till at last the cunning fairy presented him with a
gold coin between the tips of her upheld fingers, and a silver coin in
her palm, explaining to him that the gold coin is the mountain and the
silver coin the valley.[74] The Devil, seeing that he was outwitted, got
into a fearful rage and destroyed the road, the traces of which are
still shown as far as the Görgény (snow-clad) mountains, and is still
called "Dame Rapson's Road." The tale about building the road for a
mountain of gold and valley of silver is also mentioned in connection
with the Várhegy, near Köszvényes-Remete, but in this case it is Fairy
Helen's daughter who cheats the devil. There is such a dam also at the
foot of the Sóhegy, near Paraja, extending as far as Mikhàza, and this
bank too is called "Dame Rapson's Road," and also "Devil's Dyke." A dam,
similar to the "Cock's Ridge," near Rika, extends in the neighbourhood
of Gagy and Körispatak in the direction of Firtos, and is called "Pretty
Women's Road," or "Fairies' Road." Another high dam with a deep moat at
its southern side, and also called the "Fairies' Road," is to be seen
between Enlaka and Firtos. Under the Szépmezö (Beautiful Meadow) in
Háromszék, the golden bridge of the fairies lies buried. On the
outskirts of Tordátfalva there is a peak called "Ebédlö-Mál" (ebédlö =
dining-place) on which the fairies coming from Firtos to Kadacsvára used
to assemble to dinner.
In some localities _caves_ are pointed out as the haunts of fairies
such as the caves in the side of the rock named Budvár. We have already
mentioned the cave Borza-vára near the castle of Dame Rapson; another
haunt of fairies is the cave near Almás, and the cold wind known as the
"Nemere" is said to blow when the fairy in Almás cave feels cold. On one
occasion the plague was raging in this neighbourhood; the people
ascribed it to the cold blast emanating from the cave, so they hung
shirts before the mouth of the cave, and the plague ceased. (Mentioned
by L. Köváry.)
The fairies have beautiful flower-gardens in the castle grounds, and in
the centre of the garden there is generally a golden summer-house which
swivels round on a pivot. On moonlight nights they returned to water
their flower-beds long after they had disappeared from the
neighbourhood. The peonies (Whitsun-roses) that bloom among the ruins of
Dame Rapson's Castle are even nowadays known among the people as Dame
Rapson's roses.
The fairies live an organised social life. Several of their queens are
known, as _e.g._ Dame Rapson and Fairy Helen. The latter was the most
popular among them. The queens had court-dames, who were also fairies,
and who lived near their queen's castle, as _e.g._ the court-dames of
Dame Rapson lived in Borza-vára Cave. They also live a family
life--their husbands being giants or heroes, their children fairy-girls.
Those of them, however, who waste their love on ordinary mortals all die
an ignoble death.
Although they have disappeared from earth, they continue to live, even
in our days, in caves under their castles, in which caves their
treasures lie hidden. The iron gates of Zeta Castle, which has subsided
into the ground and disappeared from the surface, open once in every
seven years. On one occasion a man went in there, and met two beautiful
fairies whom he addressed thus: "How long will you still linger here,
my little sisters?" and they replied: "As long as the cows will give
warm milk."[75] (See Baron B. Orbán, _Description of Székelyland_, 3
vols.)
Their subterranean habitations are not less splendid and glittering than
were their castles of yore on the mountain peaks. The one at Firtos is a
palace resting on solid gold columns. The palace of Tartod, and the
gorgeous one of Dame Rapson are lighted by three diamond balls, as big
as human heads, which hang from golden chains. The treasure which is
heaped up in the latter place consists of immense gold bars, golden
lions with carbuncle eyes, a golden hen with her brood, and golden casks
filled with gold coin. The treasures of Fairy Helen are kept in a cellar
under Kovászna Castle, the gates of the cellar being guarded by a magic
cock. This bird only goes to sleep once in seven years, and anybody who
could guess the right moment would be able to scrape no end of diamond
crystals from the walls and bring them out with him. The fairies who
guard the treasures of the Pogányvár (Pagan Castle) in Marosszék even
nowadays come on moonlight nights to bathe in the lake below.
Other fairies known by their names are: Tarkö (after whom a mountain
near Csik-Gyergyó takes its name) with her twin daughters Olt and Maros
(the names of the two principal rivers of Transylvania, the sources of
which are on the Tarkö); their mother touched them with her magic wand,
and they were transformed into water-fairies, they then went in search
of their father, who at the time when the elements were put in order
was transformed into the Black Sea.[76] Another fairy is Mika, the
warrioress fairy, who with her father Kadicsa led the remnants of
Attila's Huns to their present place of sojourn.[77]
As mentioned before, there were good and bad fairies. The most complete
tale about good and bad fairies is the one about Firsos and Tartód,
fully mentioned by Ipolyi.[78] The castle of Dame Vénétur (near
Bereczk), the bad fairy who defied God, was swallowed up by the earth,
and she herself turned into a stone frog.[79] Dame Jenö (Eugen), who
lived in Énlak Castle, drove out one day, and on her way home her
coachman happened to remark that: "If the Lord will help us, we shall be
home soon!" to which she haughtily replied: "Whether he will help us, or
whether he won't, we shall get home all the same." At that moment she
and her carriage were turned into stone and the people still call a rock
"Dame Jenö's Carriage." (There is also another place called "Dame Jenö's
Garden.") The fairy who lived in Sóvár Castle near Csik-Somlyó, was
spinning on the Sabbath, and while doing so used the Lord's name in
vain, and was, with her spinning-wheel turned into stone. Her stone
distaff is shown to this day. A pond near Székely-Keresztur named
"Katustava" (_i.e._ Kate's Pond) contains a sunken house which once upon
a time belonged to a woman who was punished for doing her washing on a
feast-day. Even now the children stand round the pond and sing out:
"Boil up, boil up, Catherine! boil up, boil up, Catherine! We do our
soaping on Saturday and rinse our clothes on Sunday!" In days gone by,
the water used to boil up with great force and the little folks were
dispersed, and had to run away in consequence of the rush of water.
They returned, however, and threw stones into the pond, and the water
boiled up again vehemently. Aged people say that in their childhood the
pond was ten to twelve yards in diameter, and the water boiled up to a
height of two or three feet. Its present diameter is not more than a
couple of feet, and the boiling up has also considerably decreased in
proportion. The pond will perhaps disappear altogether, but its name
will last, as the whole close of fields is named after it. (Kate's Pond
Close).
A clear Christian influence can be traced in the four last tales.
Mohamedanism[80] has also left behind its traces in the tales in which
fairies figure who kidnap girls.
Such a fairy was Dame Hirip, who lived on the Vároldal, near
Gyergyó-Szens-Miklós. She used to stand on the castle tower with a
wreath in her hand, waiting for her two sons, who were engaged at the
bottom of the mountain, cutting down the sweethearts of the girls they
had kidnapped; until, at last, two heroes clad in mourning killed them;
whereupon their mother faded away with the wreath she held in her hand.
On mount Bükkös, which skirts the valley of the Úz, lived another
kidnapping fairy, who kidnapped a girl every year from the shores of the
Black Sea. On one occasion she happened to kidnap the sweetheart of the
King of the Ocean-Fairies, the loveliest maid in the sea; the King
pursued her and impeded her flight, and tired her out by raising a
hurricane and shower of rain. He overtook and caught her at a place
called "Stone Garden;" and, seizing her, killed her by flinging her on
to a rock. A mineral healing spring sprung up where her blood flowed on
the ground.[81]
III. WITCHES.
The degenerate descendants of bad fairies are witches;[82] in Hungarian,
"boszorkány;" in Turkish-Tartar, "Boshûr Khân;" which signifies one who
worries, annoys, or teases. They appear sometimes as green frogs,
sometimes as black cats; and they find a demoniacal delight in
"plaguing" people. Sometimes they appear as horses and kick their
enemies cruelly;[83] if such a horse be caught and shod, the horse-shoes
will be found on the hands and feet of the witch next day.[84]
In nearly every village, one or two such old women are to be found who
are suspected, but nobody dares to do them any harm.[85]
It is a very simple thing to see the witches. After the autumn sowing is
over the harrow is to be left on the field over winter. In the morning
of St. George's Day one has to go out in the field, make the harrow
stand upright, stand behind it, and observe through it the herd of
cattle as they pass by. You will then notice the head witch between the
horns of the bull, and the minor witches between the horns of the other
beasts.[86] But if you do not know the necessary protecting formula,
then you are done for.
If you do not like to risk this, there is another way. Dye the first egg
of a black hen, and take it with you to church in your pocket on Easter
Sunday, and observe the people as they walk into church. Some of them
will have great difficulty in passing through the door on account of the
length of their horns. When leaving the church, you must go out before
them and put down the egg; or stand at the meeting of two cross-roads;
or else they will carry you off. Witches, or other evil spirits, have no
power at cross-roads. The popular tales describe the witches as mothers
of giants, or dragons.[87] The witch is capable of changing forms by
turning somersaults.[88] They appear then as a puddle, brook, golden
pear-tree, fiery oven, &c. They grow so old that their lower lips hang
down as far as their knees; their eyelids also become elongated, so that
if they wish to see anything the eyelid has to be lifted up with a huge
iron rod, weighing 300 hundred-weights.
They exercise their magic powers: (1) in a defensive way;[89] (2) in an
aggressive way, by bewitching, the cause of which is some real or
fictitious offence, or evil intention. Thus by magic you can make the
woman appear who has taken away the cow's milk, and you can make her
give back the milk. The _modus procedendi_ is as follows: take a rag
saturated with milk, or a horse-shoe or chain which has been made hot in
a clear fire, place it on the threshold and beat it with the head of a
hatchet; or make a plough-share red hot, and plunge it several times
into cold water. In order to keep away intruders it is a rule that the
first woman who enters the house while the incantation proceeds is
severely beaten, because she is the culprit. Sometimes the ridiculous
thing happens that the man has to thrash his own wife, if she happens to
be the first comer.
By magic one can make a young man marry under all circumstances a girl
previously selected. Of such a young man they say, "They have dug up a
big weed[90] for him;" or, "They are boiling his 'kapcza'[91] for him."
The latter seems to indicate some charm. The sorceress summons toads,
holds an unintelligible conversation with them, and hands some
mysterious charm which has to be placed under the threshold of the
selected young man's house. The person, however, who orders the
incantation will die the same year.
Some kinds of severe illness or accidents can be produced by planting in
secret certain magic plants on the selected person's ground; the illness
will last, and the consequences of the accident be felt, until the
plants are removed. If the owner plants these plants himself they will
serve as a preventative.
Thieves can be found out or bewitched, and they dread the thing so much
that very often they return in secret the stolen articles.
There are various formulæ to cause marriage or produce sickness. One of
them may be mentioned here.[92] The person who orders the incantation
steals from the selected victim some article of dress, and takes it to
the sorceress, who adds three beans, three bulbs of garlic, a few pieces
of dry coal, and a dead frog to it, and places these several articles in
an earthenware pot under the victim's gate or threshold, accompanied by
these words: "Lord of the infernal regions and of the devils, and
possessor of the hidden treasures; give to ... (name of the victim) some
incurable illness--(or inflame ... with irresistible love towards
...)--and I will join your party!"
In a Hungarian paper, published in 1833, we read
Some woman in Transylvania grew tired of her husband, and consulted
a sorceress about the means of getting rid of him. The sorceress (a
Wallachian old woman) visited the woman's house, and they both
retired to the garret, where the sorceress laid out an image in
clay, which was intended to represent the unfortunate husband, and
surrounded it with burning wax tapers, and both women engaged in
prayer for the quick departure from this life of the husband. The
latter, however, appeared on the scene and put an end to the
proceedings.
Amidst the vast pile of superstitions still current amidst the
peasantry, we may note the following, from a very valuable work by Varga
János, entitled _A babondák könyve, Arad_, 1877; a volume which won the
prize offered at the time by the Hungarian physicians and others, for
the best work written on the existing superstitions of the Magyar
people. Its chief aim is to instruct the people, and is written in
_very_ popular language.
To this day old women (Roman Catholics) do not swallow the consecrated
wafer at communion; but save it and carefully wrap it in a handkerchief,
and keep it in a drawer at home, as it will prevent the house from being
burnt down. An epidemic raged all over Hungary, and the people in one of
the villages attributed the outbreak of cholera to an old woman who had
died shortly before, and who was said to have been a witch in her
lifetime. The corpse was dug up, and replaced in the grave face
_downwards_, in order to stay the plague. When the rinderpest broke out
in another village they had recourse to the same remedy. The corpse of
the witch was unearthed, and reburied face downwards. As this had no
effect, the shift of the corpse was turned inside out and put on again.
As the pest still continued, the heart of the witch was taken out and
divided into four pieces, and one quarter burnt at each of the four
corners of the village, and the herd driven through the smoke. One year,
when there was a drought in the country, in a northern village, amongst
the Slováks, a young girl was let down into a well, in order to bring on
the rain.
_Ghosts._[93] There is a proverb saying that: "The good souls do not
wish to come back, and the bad ones are not allowed to return;" but
still people believe in ghosts.
_Sprites._ (Evil spirits, garabonczas.) The father of the garabonczas is
the devil; the mother, a witch. The garabonczas mostly appears as a poor
wandering student begging for milk in the village. If he be well treated
no harm will happen to the village, but if he be sent away from the
door, he will bring on hail and will destroy the crops belonging to the
place. He generally rides officially on dragons or tátos.
_Exchanged children_, or táltos.[94] If a child be born with some defect
(say without an arm, &c.) or with some supernumerary member (say six
fingers or six toes) or with a big head, people say it is an exchanged
child; it is a child of some witch who exchanged her offspring for the
baby, while the baby's mother was in bed. Babies born with teeth are
especially considered to be children of witches. Such unfortunate
creatures are very badly treated by the people, and even by their own
parents. The name "táltos" sticks to them, even when grown up. A knife
stuck into a slice of garlic and placed under the pillow of the woman in
childbed is an effective remedy against babies being exchanged by
witches.
_Goblins_[95] (Lidércz) are the servants of evil spirits or the evil
spirits themselves. One favourite form they like to appear in is the
"wandering fire," or will-o'-the-wisp. A hen that crows (a hermaphrodite
bird) is also a goblin; and a combination of cock and hen is hatched
from the first egg laid by the young hen, or from very small undersized
eggs as are sometimes laid by fowls. A little decrepit, undeveloped
chicken is also always looked at with suspicion. The good housewife
breaks the first egg laid by a young hen, or a very small egg, to
prevent the goblin's being hatched. The crowing hen is executed, the
neck being laid on the threshold and cut off with a hatchet; if the head
jumps into the yard, then no matter, but if it hops inside the house,
then it means that the house will be burnt down. (In Germany some
hundred and seventy years ago a crowing hen was brought before the
judges, sentenced to death, its neck cut off by the public executioner
in the market-place, and the body burnt at the stake.)
_Roadside wanderers or inhabitants of graves._[96] Sickly, yellow,
haggard-looking people are said to live in graves or crypts at night.
The Magyar people are very good-natured, and their hospitality is well
known. But such a grave-inhabitant can reckon upon having no mercy. If
they stop and rest anywhere somebody is sure to die in the
neighbourhood. If anybody look at them it will bring on jaundice; if
anybody touch them the healthy person will dry up; children die if
touched or kissed by such a creature.
There is a rich mine of Folk-Medicine, as yet but little worked by
western students: a few examples will be found in "Székely
Folk-Medicine," _Folk-lore Journal_, April 1884, and we append a few
more, which may be of interest, from an old MS.[97]
_Jaundice_ is brought on by looking through the window of a house where
there is a corpse laid out, and seeing it. It is cured by taking nine
"creepers" from the head of a person with the same Christian names as
the patient; put the nine insects into an apple; bake the whole, and
give it to the patient for internal application. Then take the
foeces[98] of a person of the same Christian name; place them in a
hard-boiled egg, having first removed the yolk; sew the egg in a small
bag, and place it _secretly_ under the altar, and allow three masses to
be said over it; then hang it round the patient's neck, who has to wear
it for nine days. The cure is to be repeated nine times. There is a
marginal note in the book to the effect that our "doctor" had altogether
six cases under treatment, but not one of the patients got beyond the
first stage of the cure.[99]
_Pleurisy._ Take a trough in which the dough has been kneaded and taken
out; pour water into it cross-ways (diagonally from corner to corner)
then pour water in cross form over the peel; scrape out the trough and
knead with one finger the scrapings into a flat cake and place it on the
aching side. Varga also gives a form of prayer which has to be recited
when the dough is placed on the side. The same prayer is prescribed for
toothache and sore throat.
_Scurvy._ (In Magyar "süly.") The scorbutic place is to be rubbed with a
piece of rancid bacon, and the following ditty sung:--
"Sü-sü, lentils-sü
Peas-sü,--pumpkin-sü,
Onion-sü,--77 sorts of sü,
I order thee, in the name of the Blessed Virgin Mary to disappear!"
_Cataract_ in the eye. This is cured with a long prayer, commencing I †
N † R † I, and, if it has no effect, another (shorter) prayer is
mumbled, and the performer breathes upon the eye.
_Gangrene_ is also cured by prayers; a little garlic and broken glass is
placed upon the wound.
Another way is to bury three hairs of the patient in the gutter under
the eaves, and then to say the Lord's Prayer. When the medicine-man
arrives at the words "as in earth," he drops a slice of garlick, this is
afterwards buried in some secluded spot. If anybody steps on this place
he will be affected by the same disease.
_Hydrophobia_ is cured by a mixture of the following nine ingredients:--
1. A kind of small, vermilion, flat beetle;
2. Some dittany gathered before St. John's Day;
3. Splinters of tree struck by lightning before St. George's Day;
4. Some cantharides;
5. Young buds of ash gathered in early spring;
6. Rue gathered before St. George's Day;
7. "St. Ivan's beetle" (? glow-worm);
8. "Christmas crumb"[100] and eggshell from between two
Christmases;
9. On Midsummer Day, at early dawn, the medicine-man walks out
barefoot, and the weeds, grasses, flowers, &c. that stick to his
sole or toes form ingredient No. 9.
The mixture is to be taken internally.
_Epilepsy_ is treated with an oil prepared by the quack out of
horseradish; also some brimstone and other things.
_External_ wounds and sore nails are cured by placing a live toad on the
place.
The rash called _St. Anthony's Fire_. A man whose Christian name is
Anthony has to produce sparks with steel and flint.[101]
_Scab_ is treated with an ointment made of beef-fat and brimstone; the
ointment to be used for three days, and to be followed up by a hot-air
bath. As these useful establishments only exist in large towns, the
unfortunate sufferer is put inside a hot oven.
_Quinsy._--With the child's finger stroke the throat of a lizard,[102]
caught before St. George's Day.
_Cramp._--Place a left-hand window-frame across the child suffering from
cramp, or burn feathers under its nose.
_Hand of Glory._[103]--The little finger of the human foetus has all the
virtues of (and is used for the same purpose as) the hand of glory. All
the famous brigands are believed to have one of these articles in their
possession.
When a person is _in extremis_ they place him or her, bed and all, in a
line with and under the main joist of the ceiling. If the dead person's
eyes are left open somebody will soon follow him or her.
_Superstitious Days._
_Friday._ Work commenced or finished on Friday is sure to fail.
Who laughs on Friday will cry on Sunday.
To sneeze on Friday the first thing in the morning when the stomach is
empty means some great catastrophe.
To start on a journey on Friday is unlucky.
He or she who is taken ill on Friday will never again leave their bed.
A guest on Friday means one week's distress.
Dough kneaded on Friday will not rise.
Linen washed on Friday will give the wearer some skin disease.
If the fires are lighted in the rooms for the first time on Friday the
house will be burnt down.
If a baby gets its first tooth on a Friday the front teeth will come all
right but no more.
If a baby commence to talk on a Friday it will, when grown up, stammer
or remain mute altogether.
If the new year commence with a Friday all the crops will fail.
If a hen commence to sit on her eggs on a Friday the eggs become
addled.[104]
_St. Matthias._ "It is better trust the ice after St. Matthias' Day than
in you, my dear little maid." _Erdélyi_, vol. 3. Folk-Song No. 200.
_St. George's Day_ is a very lucky day.
A butterfly caught before St. George's Day brings great luck.
Snakes caught before St. George's Day make a powerful medicine.
The skin of a marmot caught before St. George's Day will make a purse
which will never be empty.
The person who sees a swallow or stork before St. George's Day will
live as many years as the bird flaps its wings.
Procure the wing of a bat caught before St. George's Day and wrap up
money in it; then you will never be without cash.
On the night following St. George's Day one can listen to the
conversation of the witches and overhear their secrets about good and
bad herbs.
All the medicines gathered before St. George's Day are very powerful.
_Christmas Eve._--Roman Catholics fast on this day--eating no meat,
using instead fish and vermicelli with crushed poppy seed and honey.
Those who stand on "Lucy's chair" during midnight mass can tell who is a
witch and who is not. St. Lucy's Day is December 13th, and on that day
some begin to make a small chair, or stool, working at it, on each
following day, so as to get it ready by Christmas Eve. The maker then
takes it to midnight mass, and sits upon it in order to discover who are
witches in the parish. All those who turn their backs to the altar
whilst he (or she) sits on the stool, are witches. "Lucy's chair" is
also said of anything that is being made very slowly. On this day, too,
the farmer's wife and servants wrap their heads up in cloaks, and, armed
with big brushes (a sort of brush tied athwart the end of a pole), go
round and catch the hens and touch their hinder parts, believing that it
will cause them to lay more eggs. The twelve days following St. Lucy's
are called Lucy's Kalendar, and are very carefully observed. If the
first, second, third, &c., be raining, windy, foggy, &c., so will the
first, second, third, &c., months of the next year be.
_Christmas Day._--Every hour of this day is significant and pregnant
with good or evil. It seems as if on this day every good angel descended
from heaven to scatter blessings, and every demon ascended from the
infernal regions to shower curses on the heads of men.[105]
Even the remnants of food have their magic power. The well-known
"Christmas crumb" forming an important ingredient in many
folk-medicines.
Whoever picks up an apple or nut from the ground will be covered with
sores; and if anyone steps upon a reel of cotton (or gets entangled in
it) upon this day, he will, without fail, have an attack of the "evil of
Lazarus."
A sort of basket made of twisted or plaited straw, such as is used for
taking dough to the bakers, is filled with hay and put under the table
to receive the "little Jesus," who is said to get into it. Maize put
under this basket is said to fatten fowls to a wondrous extent, and
cattle thrive marvellously on the hay. Whosoever eats nuts without honey
will lose his teeth.
Whosoever does not eat a slice of garlic with honey on this holy day
will get a sore throat.[106]
There are several Finnish superstitions with regard to this season,
_e.g._:
In West Bothnia one must not spin on St. John's Day (which is called a
half-holyday), or the sheep will be attacked with disease during the
year. Cf. the well known saying that a spinning wheel is unlucky on
board a ship.
Fire must not be taken out of a house on Christmas Eve,[107] or else the
so-called "black ears" will grow among the barley. See _Suomen
Muinaismuisto-yhdistyksen, Aikakauskirja_, v. p. 109.
If the corn is found to be very much entangled when cut, it is said
that the farmer slept crooked in bed on Christmas Eve. In some villages,
on "Knuts Day," Jan. 13th, a young girl is dressed up as a bride, and
called "twenty-days' bride" (twenty days after Christmas), and driven
through the village. The day ends with a dance, and a collection for the
"bride," who is generally one of the poor. Straw, too, was laid on the
room floors in remembrance of the Saviour's bed. A light burnt all night
on the settle.[108] These customs still exist in some places.
A yule-cross used to be erected at the house-door on Christmas Eve.
To return to the Magyars. The bread at Christmas time is baked in
curious forms, just as it is in Finland, where, _e.g._, in Åbo, it is
made in the form of a fish, &c., and called "Kuse" and "Kasa," in other
parts in the form of animals, &c. (cf. the "Yuldoos" in Northumberland).
_New Year's Eve_ and _New Year's Day_.[109] Molten lead is cast into
water to see the future husband's trade. Watch which way the cock crows
on the dawn of the new year, for in that direction your future partner
will surely come. Turn your pillow at midnight (December 31st), and you
will see whom you are to marry, in your dreams. Any one born at midnight
will become a great person. Whosoever is whipped on New Year's Day will
be whipped every day in the new year! Indeed, anything done on this day
will be repeated during the year. It is unlucky to sow on this day, as
it prevents the hens laying. If you put on new linen you will cause your
skin to be covered with sores. New Year's morn is spent in wishing each
other a happy new year; just as, in many parts of England (_e.g._ Hull)
the juvenile population call and expect to receive their reward in the
shape of coin of the realm.
In Vienna they say: "to have Schweinsglück," or "Sauglück," _i.e._, "a
pig's luck," or a "sow's luck;" and so one sees in some houses a cook
appear, bearing a sucking pig on a tray, and wishing all a happy New
Year, expecting a New Year's box in return.
According to Paul Kelecsényi, the following custom is observed at
Kolony, in the county of Nyitra. Girls make a bonfire, and leap through
the flame. From their mode of leaping the spectators gather when the
girl will be married. The performance is accompanied by a song, of which
a few verses will suffice as a specimen:
"We lay a fire,
We lay it square,
At one corner sit five old men,
At the other sit good looking matrons,
At the third sit handsome young bachelors,
At the fourth sit pretty young maidens.
Then the fire is lighted.
John A's (the name of an unmarried man) is about to catch fire.
Let us extinguish it! (Susie.)
Oh! don't let us forsake the poor people!
Jane B's (generally John A's sweetheart) store house is about to
catch fire.
Let us....
Oh! don't...."
Then follow verses, like the following, and all more or less
unintelligible:
"How high the branch of the tree has grown,
[The tree] has sent out branches.
It is bending and bending across the ocean
Into the courtyard of John A.
Of [to?] pretty Helena with the silken yellow tresses."
See Erdélyi's _Folk-Songs and Stories_, vol. iii. pp. 148-150. "Szent
Iván Éneke."
_On St. John the Baptist's Day_[110] the glow-worm is gathered, and also
at dawn the medicinal herbs for certain cures (see supra). On this day
it is also customary to jump over "St. John's fire;" any person doing
this will not die during the year.
_On the Day of St. Paul's Conversion_ all the bears turn round in their
sleep in their winter dens.
_On the Night of St. Andrew's_ every girl will dream about her future
husband; if she manage to procure a shirt of a young man and place it
over-night under her pillow, she will so bewitch him that he will follow
her like her shadow.
_On Saturday before Easter_ all snakes, frogs, toads, &c., can be driven
away in the morning when the cattle's bell is heard.
_On Palm Sunday_, swallow without chewing three buds blessed by the
priest and brought from church, and this will prevent a sore throat.
_St. Martin._ On this day, in conformity with an old custom, the Jewish
community of Pozsony (Pressburg) yearly present a fat goose to the King
of Hungary. This deputation is always received personally.
_St. Michael._ The bier in Magyar is called "St. Michael's horse."
_St. Stephen._--See _Notes and Queries_, "Magyar and Finn Songs on St.
Stephen's Day," 6 S. viii. 487, and x. 485, with which we may compare
the following:--
VAUSENOTTES: La cérémonie de crier les _valantins_: les garçons se
nommoient _vausenots_ et les filles _vausenottes_: ces mots viennent de
_vouser_ ou _vauser_, qui eux-mêmes viennent de _vocare_, nommer, et de
_nuptiae_ noces: comme si l'on disoit appeler aux noces: aux mariages:
cette cérémonie s'est pratiquée longtemps dans le pays Messin. _Voyez
Valantin._
VALANTIN: Futur époux, celui qu' on désignoit à une fille le jour des
_brandons_, ou premier dimanche de carême, qui, dès qu'elle étoit
promise, se nommoit _valantine_: Et si son _valantin_ ne lui faisoit
point un present ou ne la regaloit avant le dimanche de la mi-carême,
elle le brûloit sous l'effigie d'un paquet de paille ou de sarment, et
alors les promesses de mariage étoient rompues et annuliés.
BRANDON: Tisson allumé, feu, flambeau: de-là ou a appelé _dimanche des
brandons_, le premier dimanche de carême, parce qu'on allumoit des feux
ce jour-là, il était encore nommé le jour de _behourdi_, _behourt_,
_bordes_, _bourdich_, termes qui signifioient une joûte une course de
lances. Il se nomme encore dans quelques provinces, le jour de _grand
feux_, des _valantins_, le jour des _bulles_ ou des _bures_, le dimanche
des _bordes_; au figuré, l'ardeur de l'amour et son flambeau, _brando_.
On appelle à Lyons, _brandons_, des rameaux verds auxquels on attache
des gâteaux, des oublies et des bugnes, le premier dimanche de carême.
BULE, _bulle_; Feu de rejouissance.
BORDE. One of the meanings of the diminutive of "borde," viz.:
"bordelle" "on a appliqué ensuite aux lieux de débauche."[111]
Heltay Gáspár, the typographer of Kolozsvár, wrote his book in 1552
against this custom as practised in Hungary.
The following Finnish superstitions at certain times may here be noted
for comparative purposes:--
_Lent._ Witches are said to have cut off the sheep's wool at this time,
and given it to the evil one; who in return gave them good luck with
their sheep and butter.
_Shrove Tuesday._ Women are not to spin on this day; because, if they
do, the sheep will suffer from diseases.
If the sun shines on this day there will be a fine summer. Much sledging
must be done if long flax is desired; and seven meals must be eaten
without drinking, if thirst is to be avoided during the summer heats.
_Good Friday._ It was not customary formerly to make a fire on this
day.
_Easter._ On Easter Eve cut off the wool from between the sheep's ears;
so the young folks burn straw and tar-barrels to frighten the Easter
witches (in the parishes of Wörå and Munsala). If anyone wishes to see
the witches, as they ride in mid-air on their broomsticks, he must sit
on the roof of a three-times-removed house. (Houses in Finland are built
of wood, and often sold and removed to another site.)
_May 1st._ As the weather is this day, so will the rest of the year be.
_Eve of St. John Baptist._ On this night the young girls go out into
rye-fields with bits of colored worsted, and tie them round the stalks
that are chosen. The stalks are then cut off just above the worsted.
Next morning the stalk that has grown the most during the night
foretells the future of the maiden. The red one foretells purity; green,
love; yellow, rejection; black, grief; blue, old maid; white, death;
speckled, an illegitimate child. The stalk is then taken up and placed
under the pillow, and whatever the sleeper then dreams will undoubtedly
happen.
A Finnish lady friend relates that she and one of her friends on this
night gathered nine different sorts of flowers, and, having made wreaths
of them, put them under their pillows--as it was said that next morning
there would be a lock of hair the colour of the future husband's found
in each wreath. In order to make sure, each of the young ladies, unknown
to the other, cut a lock off her own head and placed it in her friend's
wreath, but, unfortunately, one of the ladies also put a lock of her own
hair in her own wreath, and thus next day found she was doomed to have
two mates! In some parts, when the farmers return from church, they see
who can get home first, as that one will get his harvest in first the
following year.
In some places straw is burnt on this night, but it is more common to
burn wood (which fires are called Kokko). In some parts these fires are
burnt on Maunday Thursday night. In Honkojoki, after the Kokko is burned
two persons go and stand each on a wood stack, and begin throwing the
logs into a heap, each trying his best to throw more than his rival.
This done, the logs are counted, and, if found to be an odd number, it
is regarded as an omen of misfortune. The girls are dressed in white on
this night. In the southern parts of the country stones used to be
rolled down the hill sides on this night. The houses are decorated on
the outside with young birches and inside with leafy boughs, &c. For
dressing with flowers and leaves at this time see _Hofberg_,
"Digerdöden."
_St. Bartholomew._--According to some, seed ought to be sown this day.
_St. Matthew's Day._--People disguise themselves so as not to be
recognised. A sledge, too, is drawn by a ram, with a straw man as
driver.
_St. Thomas's Eve._--A Swedish superstition regards this as the goblins'
special night, and one story (_Hofberg_, "Tomten") relates how no one
would go into a smithy that night on this account, and if anyone looked
through the door he would see the goblins forging silver bars, or
"turning their own legs under the hammer."
In the Highlands, even in modern times, there were May-Day bonfires, at
which the spirits were implored to make the year productive. A feast was
set out upon the grass, and lots were drawn for the semblance of a human
sacrifice; and whoever drew the "black piece" of a cake dressed on the
fire was made to leap three times through the flame.[112]
In many parts of France the sheriffs or the mayor of a town burned
baskets filled with wolves, foxes, and cats, in the bonfires at the
Feast of St. John; and it is said that the Basques burn vipers in wicker
panniers at Midsummer, and that Breton villagers will sacrifice a snake
when they burn the sacred boat to the goddess who assumed the title of
St. Anne.[113]
Varga also gives the following information on numbers:
_13_ is very unlucky.[114] If thirteen sit down to table, one will die.
_9_ also plays an important part. See folk-medicine. Hydrophobia breaks
out in nine days, weeks, months, or years. Nine different ingredients
often make up the mixture--nine different shoots of nine different
trees. If a cow be bewitched, a cure with nine ants' nests is used. Most
medicines are taken nine times; the patient has to bathe nine times, &c.
&c.
_7_ is very superstitious. The seventh child plays an important part in
everything; only a seventh child can lift hidden treasures. A seventh
child seven years old has great magic power. In digging for treasures
seven people club together, each member removes seven spades-full of
earth in one night. Seven times seven, or seventy-seven is also a magic
number. The devil's grandmother is 777 years old.
_3_ very often occurs in fairy-tales. It is an important number with
witches. It is said there are 33,333 witches in Hungary.
_Superstitions about Animals._
It would be more easy to enumerate those animals about which there are
not superstitions, but we will give a few instances from Varga.
_The Death-Bird_ (a kind of small owl).--If the death-bird settles on
the roof, and calls out three times "kuvik," somebody will die in that
house.
_The Owl._--The well-known servant of witches. It procures them the
required number of snakes, lizards, &c.
_The Cuckoo._--It will tell you how many years you have to live. It
sucks the milk out of the udder of the cow. There is also another bird
credited with this.
_The Crowing-hen._--See _supra_. p. xlvi.
_The Swallow_ and stork are favourite birds. To catch a swallow is very
unlucky. To disturb its nest will set the roof on fire. If you kill it,
your arm will shrivel up. Of this bird the people say that it dies; of
all others, they perish. (A human being "dies" = "meghal" in Hung. =
"stirbt" in German; an animal "perishes" = "megdöglik," = "crepirt.") If
you see the first swallow, stroke your face and sing, "I see a swallow;
I wash off the freckles"--and the freckles will disappear. The stork is,
also, a sacred bird. It must not be caught or killed; to disturb its
nest will set the house on fire. He who sees for the first time in the
year a stork standing, will be very lazy during the year; if flying,
then fresh and very healthy.
_Lark_, _Plover_,[115] _Quail_, and _Pigeon_.--When Christ was hiding
himself he went among some underwood, his pursuers were about to follow
him there, when the lark rose and sang: "Nincs, nincs, nincs, nincs,
nincs, sehol itten." (He is not--he is nowhere here). The pursuers were
about to leave, when out of malice the quail flew up and called "Itt
szalad, itt szalad" (Here he runs, here he runs); the pursuers thereupon
returned, and Christ took refuge in a shrubbery; then the plover flew up
and cried "bú vik, bú vik" (he is hiding), and the pigeon added "a
bokorban, a bokorban" (in the bush). Christ blessed the lark, hence it
rises high up in the sky and sings merrily, whereas the three other
birds were accursed to never fly on a tree, but to hide themselves among
grass, in the mud, in old ruins.
See Arany László "Magyar Népmeséinkröl" (On our Magyar Popular Tales),
a paper read before the Kisfaludy Society on May 29, 1867. Cf.
_Hofberg_, Horsgötten.
_Newt._--If you swallow a newt with the water drawn from a well, it will
grow quite a monster in your stomach, and eat its way through. The
monster will have a head as a calf; immense immoveable eyes; a skin like
a human being; its voice like a baby's, and its head covered with fur,
like that of a wild cat.
_Snake._--There is a snake in every house; if it creep out of its hole,
some great misfortune will happen. It is therefore unlucky to disturb
it. The skin of a snake caught before St. George's Day, drawn over a
stick, makes a powerful weapon; it will break iron in two.
_Snakes and Frogs._[116]--If a snake or frog get into a man's stomach,
it can be allured out by placing some steaming milk near the mouth of
the patient. If they die inside, the patient has to take internally some
powderized stork's stomach. [Cf. "Liber Quartus Practicae Haly," cap.
49, "De eius medela qui leporem marinum aut ranam biberit," p. 207,
verso (Leyden, 1523)]. The so-called frog-rain; the frogs drop from the
clouds, or that they are drawn up by the clouds from lakes, &c.
_Lizard_, see "Quinsy" and "St. George's Day," pp. xlix. and li.
_Cat._--The black cat is a favourite disguise of the witch. When the cat
is cleaning herself, you must observe at whom she looks first, when
finished; the person so looked at will go to a ball, or some other
amusement. If the cat uses one paw only, a guest will arrive; he will
come from the direction in which the cat stroked her paw the last time.
If a cat be uneasy, &c., it will rain.
_Donkey._--There are three indents on the bulrush as if made with teeth.
The tradition is, that the donkey on which Christ sat commenced to
nibble the reed, but before it had time to bite it off, Christ rode
away. The traces of the teeth are still plainly visible. The cross on
the donkey's back is said to be the stains left by Christ's blood, as it
ran down on both sides.--Arany László _loc. cit._
_Raven._--There is a well-known Magyar folk-song commencing the thus:--
"The raven washes his brood on Good Friday."
_Clocks._--The ticking of the clock-beetle forbodes death in the house.
_Dog._--The witch will sometimes appear as a black dog. If a dog whine
in his sleep, it is a sign of conflagration; if it bark in its sleep,
robbers are due. If a dog howl,[117] it smells a dead body, and somebody
will die in the house.
_The Sow_ with a litter of nine, _the Horse_ without a head, _the Bull_
with horns pointing downwards, are favourite forms assumed by witches.
_The Tortoise._--When Christ was walking on earth, He appeared as a
beggar, and begged for alms at a Jew's house. The mistress of the house
was very mean; and in order not to be obliged to give anything, she hid
under a trough used for kneading bread, and told her little girl to say
that she was not to be found. When the girl said that her mother was not
at home, Christ replied: "May she never be able to get home!" The girl
waited in vain for her mother to come forth; and when she opened the
closet door, an ugly thing crawled out, with a trough-like shield grown
to its back. This is the origin of the tortoise.
_Superstitions about Plants._
Varga supplies the following notes on this subject:
_Deadly Nightshade_ works miracles in folk-medicine. One of its uses is
to cure maggots in beasts. It is not used internally nor applied
externally. The medicine-man approaches the plant wherever it grows,
makes a hole into the ground close to the root, then bends the plant
gently down, sticks the top of it into the hole and buries it, taking
care not to break the plant. Then he repeats the following formula:--"Do
you hear, deadly nightshade? I herewith bury you, and will not again
liberate you until the maggots that have got into the left rump of John
So-and-So's cow clear out from there."
_Vervain_ or "lock-opening herb."--Open the skin on the palm of your
hand, place a small leaf of vervain under the skin and let the wound
heal over; then at the touch of such hand all locks and bars will open.
All the more famous brigands of old are said to have had such power.
_Clover._--Clover with four leaves is very lucky.
_Wolf's-milk._--The milky juice oozing from the broken stem of this
plant will beautify the skin.[118]
_The Wolf's-bane leaf_, the ökörfark kóró (lit. the dried oxtail)[119],
and _the Rue_ are very important herbs in folk-medicine.
Some other plants are said to have had this power, that if at dusk you
switch with them three times in the air you hit the witch, and you can
hear her moaning.
_The Lily_ is the flower of the dead. If any body be executed innocent,
three yellow lilies will grow on his grave.
_Superstitions about Stones._
_The Diamond_ is blown, like glass, by thousands and thousands of snakes
in caves, who bury them in the sand.
_The Carbuncle_ glows in the dark.
_The Garnet._ While the person who wears these stones is healthy the
garnet is of a beautiful red colour; when the wearer ails the stones
turn pale.
_The Opal_ is an unlucky stone.
_Sundries._[120]
_Astronomy._ The milky way came about in this way. The driver of a cart
of straw was very drunk; the straw was badly loaded and fell off in all
directions as the drunken driver drove his horses irregularly over the
way.
*Comets forebode a great war or the pest.
Many people get out at the left side of the bed, pull on the left side
first of their trousers, the left sleeve of their coat, and undress left
first because it is good for toothache.
*If your palm itches, you receive money; rub it to your hair, and you
get as much money as you touched hairs.
*Right eye itching, you will cry; left eye, you will be merry; whose
eyes jump about will get beaten.
*Singing in right ear, bad news; left, good news.
If a family gets into a new house, somebody will die; a dead body's eyes
left open, he is looking for somebody to follow him. If you pity an
animal when it is being slaughtered it dies very slowly.
*If a knife, fork, or scissors drop and stick upright in the ground, a
guest will arrive. If by accident one more plate is laid on the table
than necessary, a very hungry guest will come.
Where there is a baby in the house, you must sit down or you will take
away its sleep. If you stare at the baby, you spoil it with your eye. To
counteract this, put your hat on the child's head or spit on the baby.
If the mischief is already done, drop a piece of live coal into a glass
of water, and make the child drink of it, and bathe his eyes with the
water. At the same time wish the "spoiling" back to the person from whom
it came.
If a spider lowers itself on somebody at night, it is lucky; in the
daytime, unlucky.
*If the fire is noisy (a series of small explosions) there will be high
words or some scrimmage in the house. If you dream of fire, you will be
robbed. If in your dream you see yourself as bride or bridegroom, you
will die. If you dream that you are dead, you get married. If, at meals,
you sit between two brothers or sisters, you will get married.
If a woman in the family-way looks into the window, where there is a
corpse, the baby will be dumb. If the woman sends away a beggar, she
will bear twins.
In stormy weather stick a hatchet in the threshold, and the hail-clouds
will roll by. *Make the sign of a cross with the poker against the sky
and the rainbow will appear.
When it rains and the sun shines too, the devil beats his wife. If it
thunders without lightning, the devil has got hold of a poor sinner. If
you abuse the rain, the angels cry and the devil tears his hair.
If the cow is bewitched and will not allow herself to be milked, place
the pail over her head; or go to the cemetery, procure a decayed old
wooden cross, and beat the animal with it.
If the cow kicks, cover her head with an old apron and stick holes
through the apron with the pitchfork. *The witch will feel the stabbing
from the prongs. If the witch has taken away the milk of the cow,
procure nine ants'-nests,[121] bury this with nine pieces of bread on
the road over which the cattle goes, so that the cow may step over it.
Then after three days knead the bread and soil together and make the cow
eat it, and her milk will be restored.
Or pour some of the milk into a fiery oven, and the fire will burn the
witch who spoilt the cow.
It is not good to look at a cow while calving, because her milk will not
come. The first week's milk is to be given to the poor, or it will be
difficult to milk the cow afterwards.
Do not call a child "a frog," or it will with difficulty learn to talk.
Do not step over it, or you stop its growing. Do not say thanks for a
medicine, or it will lose its power. Do not wish the fisher or hunter
"good luck," or he will have a poor day. To meet a priest is unlucky; to
meet a Jew lucky.
If a child suffers from epileptic fits, take the shirt it has worn
during one of the fits and wrap it around one of the (wooden) crosses in
the cemetery, this will cure the child; but the person who removes it
will catch the disease. When a child loses its first tooth, the mother
ought to eat the tooth in a piece of bread, and then she will never
suffer from toothache. When a child sees a swallow for the first time in
Spring, it must spit several times into the palms of its hands and
pretend to wash its face; this will prevent freckles.
The following is said to cure abscesses: Boil together peas, beans,
lentils, and millet in a new pot, and when the mess is ready bathe the
affected place therein; then take pot and contents at dawn to the
cross-roads, and dash it to the ground. The abscesses will disappear,
the first person who steps over the mess will get them.
When sweeping the house the dust must not be swept towards the door but
from it, and the sweepings burnt; then luck will never desert the house.
A loaf that has been cut should never be placed so that the cut part
faces the door, because that would cause lack of bread.
When the bread is taken from the oven, if a few red-hot cinders be
thrown into the oven it is as good as throwing them down your enemy's
throat!
*Whenever water is drawn from a well, great care must be taken that a
little is returned, to propitiate the angry sprite of the well.
_Manners at Table._
"Whereas other learned and wise nations keep their heads covered while
they are at meals, the Magyars uncover themselves at table. Perhaps they
follow this custom because they remember the words of St. Paul (1 Cor.
ii.), who says that every man praying, having his head covered,
dishonoureth his head; the Magyars, however, not only often commence
their meals with a prayer, but mention the Deity as often as they drink,
and wish to those, in whose honour they lift their glasses, good luck
and bliss, and pray to God for these, which custom is not always
followed by other nations. Therefore they think it is better not to
cover the head than to be obliged to uncover themselves so many
times."[122]--_From "A Kopaszsagnac diczireti" (the praise of baldness).
Kolozsvár, 1589; author unknown._
_Drinking Custom._--The Finnish word "ukko," at the present day, means
"the host," "the master of the house;" formerly "yli-jumala" meant "the
chief-God," "the God of the weather and fertility." Wherefore
Väinämõinen prays to him when sowing the first seed (Kalevala, I. runes
317-330).
The heathen Finns, after spring sowing,[123] sacrificed with "Ukko's
cup" (Ukon malja). Jacob Grimm compares Ukko's cup to Thor's drinking
vessel.[124]
In 1886, or thereabouts, the Magyar Academy of Science came into
possession of some XVIth and XVIIth century deeds written in Magyar, and
relating to the sale of certain vine-yards in the Hegyalja, where the
famous vines of Tokaj[125] grow. From these deeds it appears, that in
each case the bargaining for the vineyard was followed by a
drinking-bout, at which one of the men would lift up his glass; and if
nobody objected to the sale the bargain became confirmed and binding
upon all parties concerned. The ceremony of lifting up the cup that
should serve as a sign that the bargain was struck was called "Ukkon
poharat fölmutatui," = show up Ukko's glass, and the name of the person
who performed the ceremony is mentioned in the deed in every case. Thus,
in one of these documents, dated "Tállya, December 28, 1623," we read as
follows: "In witness thereof, we the above named magistrates and sworn
men, in conformity with the living old custom of our ancestors, have
drunk áldomás[126] &c. Ukko's glass was held up[127] by John Kantuk de
Liszka."
Thus, while the Finnish Agricola in 1551 condemns the custom of
"drinking Ukko's cup" of the ancient Finns as a superstition, in
Hungary, in the Hegyalja, it was, according to deeds bearing dates from
1596 to 1660, a ceremony "in accordance with the old law and living
custom."[128]
See Paul Hunfalvy's "Magyarország Ethnographiája," Budapest, 1876, pp.
242 & seq.
[1] "Aladár," in Hungarian tradition.
[2] _Enc. Britt._ "Huns."
[3] See "Rege a csoda-szarvasról, by Arany János, an English translation
of which has been published by Mr. Butler in his _Legends, Folk Songs,
&c._, from the Hungarian." Cf. _Hungary_, by Professor Vambéry, cap.
iii.
[4] According to Hungarian history, Árpád found numerous small
nationalities inheriting Attila's realm, with each of whom he had to
settle separately. The number of nationalities has been further
increased by fresh arrivals from Asia, and immigrants from Western
Europe during the past ten centuries: thus we hear of the continuous
irruption of Besseni (Petchenegs) during the reign of Stephen the Saint
(first King of Hungary, A.D. 1000); of Cumani in the time of Salamon
(A.D. 1060) and his successors; and of Tartars under Batu Khan (A.D.
1285) in the time of Béla IV. During this last invasion large tracts of
land became depopulated, the inhabitants having either perished or fled;
so that the king was obliged to invite immigrants from Western Europe,
and this was the origin of the Saxon settlements in Transylvania. This
will to some extent show the difficulties which beset the writer who
attempts to give a sketch of the races inhabiting modern Hungary. A
further difficulty, in tracing the origin of such races, is due to the
variety of spelling adopted by different writers in describing the same
race, and the unscrupulous use of the names Huns, Scythae, &c. when
writing about tribes inhabiting regions beyond the borders of the then
known civilised world. _Vide infra_, p. x.
[5] We have attempted to give but a brief sketch of the Magyars, feeling
that when there is so lucid a work as "Hungary," by so well-known an
authority as Professor Vambéry, within the reach of all, and dealing
with this subject in a way that it would be folly for us to attempt, we
may content ourselves with referring all readers to that work, and to
_Der Ursprung der Magyaren_ by the same author.
[6] The Székely (in German "Székler," in Latin "Siculus") inhabit the
eastern parts of Transylvania, the territory occupied by them forming an
oblong strip between the Saxon settlement of Besztercze and Brassó
(Kronstadt), with two branches to the west known as Marosszék and
Udvarhelyszék. Another district (szék) inhabited by them, Aranyos-szék,
lies in the western part of Transylvania between the districts of Torda
and Alsó-Fejér.
[7] _The Nationality of the Huns and Avars_, a paper read before the
Hungarian Academy of Sciences, Oct. 4, 1881. Cf. also "The Origin of the
Magyars," by the same author.
[8] See p. 380, _infra_.
[9] Kozma says, that in the two above-mentioned countries the word
"Huns" was used, up to the thirteenth century, among the people as
equivalent to giants, who figured in fairy tales. Simrock and Grimm are
inclined to see real persons in them, and say they were the Huns, and in
later history the Magyars.
[10] 1883, vol. i. pp. 466, 467.
[11] _Cornhill Magazine_, May, 1882.
[12] The first edition appeared in 1520. Cf. _Diccionario Bibliographico
Portuguez_ (Lisboa, 1859) _sub voce_ "Barros."
[13] He asserts that his chronicle is a translation of "ex lingua
Ungara." So far as one knows, the _original_ remains undiscovered and
unknown!
[14] Cf. Geo. Fejér, _Henricus Portagulliae Comes origine Burgundus non
Hungarus_, Budæ 1830, and other dissertations by M. Holéczy, &c. in the
British Museum. Press Mark 10632/1.
[15] _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, by Vigfusson and Powell. Oxford, 1883,
p. lxi, vol. i.
[16] _Historia de Gentium Septentrionalium variis conditionibus &c._
(Basileæ, 1567). Lib. ii. cap. xviii.
[17] _De Hunnis et Herulis_ Libri Sex. Joannes Magnus died in 1544. His
chronicle appeared interspersed with Olaus Magnus' work. Cf. Lib. viii.
cap. xiii.
[18] Cf. Paul Hunfalvy's polemic work, _A Székelyek_. Budapest, 1880.
The same learned writer in his well-known _Ethnography of Hungary_,
disputes the separate origin of the Székelys, and maintains that they
are not a distinct people from the Magyars, but that they are Magyars
who have migrated from Hungary Proper into their modern Transylvanian
homes. This assertion gave rise to severe criticism on the part of the
defenders of the old tradition like Dr. John Nagy, Farkas Deák, and
others; and the above mentioned pamphlet was a reply, wherein the author
further defends his assertion, on the testimony of comparative philology
and history. One powerful argument in favour of the separate origin is,
that for centuries the Székely population has kept distinct not only
from the Saxons, but also from the Magyars in Transylvania; they had
privileges which were denied to the Magyars. Their administration until
recently was quite distinct. Their name first occurs in a deed signed by
William, Bishop of Transylvania, dated 1213, in which the Bishop
renounces his right of collecting tithes from settlers in the Bárczasâg
"a waste and uninhabited" track of land, if those settlers be neither
Magyars nor Székelys.
[19] Abu-Ali Achmed ben Omar ibn Dastás. _Information regarding the
Kozars, Burtás, Bulgarians, Magyars, Slavs and Russ._ Edited by D. A.
Chvolson, St. Petersburg, 1869 (in Russian); quoted by Hunfalvy in his
_Ethnography of Hungary_.
[20] Abn Dolif Misaris ben Mohalhal _De Intinere Asiatico_--Studio Kurd
de Schloezer. Berolini, 1845. Cf. Defrémery _Fragments de Geographes,
&c._ in _Journ. Asiat._ ser. iv. tom. xiii. 466. Both quoted by Colonel
Yule in _Cathay and the Way Thither_. London, 1866. Vol. i. pp. cxi. and
clxxxvii.
[21] On the river Vág (in the North of Hungary Proper).
[22] Hunfalvy _The Székelys_, pp. 40-42.
[23] _Ib._ p. 41.
[24] Cf. _Republica Hungarica_, ex off. Elzeviriana, 1634, p. 12. "Nemo
apud illos (Ciculos) ignobilis esse censetur, etiam si manu aratrum
tractet, aut caprino gregi praesit."
[25] Georgius Rákóczy. Dei Gratia Princeps Transylvaniæ ... et Siculorum
Comes, &c.
[26] Prior to 1876, the Székelys administered their own affairs, and
were divided into five "széks" (_sedes_).
[27] His essay, entitled "A few words on the Székely Dialects," was
published at the end of his work, _Vadrózsâk_, vol. i.
[28] Quoted _infra_, p. xix.
[29] _Vide infra_, p. 380.
[30] _Opus citatum_, p. 34.
[31] Such as Klaproth.
[32] Cf. Hunfalvy _Ethnography_, p. 408.
[33] Cf. _The History of the Cumanians_, and also _The Nationality and
Language of the Jazygo-Cumanians_, by Stephen Gyárfás. Budapest, 1882.
[34] Budapest, 1880. The original MS. is in the Bibliotheca Marciana in
Venice. It was discovered by Cornides in 1770. Klaproth first made it
known in his "Mémoirs relatifs à l'Asie," III. and Roesler published a
specimen of its grammar in his "Romänische Studien," pp. 352-356.
[35] Count Géjza Kuun has, we are glad to say, not yet spoken his last
word; for that indefatigable scholar is busily engaged on a large work
on his favorite subject, which, judging by the extracts he read (June
1st, 1885) before the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, promises to rank
with the best writings of modern philologists.
It may be of interest here to quote one of the Cumanian children's
rhymes:
Heli, heli, jáde üzürmény
üzbe her!
Zeboralle, sarmamamile,
Alo bizon sasarma,
Düzüsztürmö dücsürmö
Hej ala hilala
Zeboralle dücsürmö.
(Wolan, wolan, ich löse das Gelübde,
Der Lenz ist da!
Mit Gebeten, Zauberzeichen
Mache ich den Zauber
Unschädlich. Ich preise dich!
Es ist nur ein Gott.
Mit Gebeten preise ich dich).
_Vide Ungarische Revue_, viii.-ix., Heft. 1885, p. 644.
[36] How dangerous a practice it is to build up history upon no other
ground than the mere similarity in the sound of the names of
nationalities is shewn in the history of the modern Jazyges. This name
has led many a chronicler astray. Their Magyar proper name is "Jász,"
which, according to Hunfalvy (_Ethnography of Hungary_, p. 376) is
derived from the word "ijász," i.e. "an archer," or "bowman," a name
describing their original occupation. In some old deeds of the xivth and
xvth centuries, they are called "Jassones" and "Pharetrarii," and things
kept straight until Ranzanus the Papal Nuncio at the Court of Matthias
Corvinus appeared on the scene, and, struck by the sound of the name
"Jassones" and finding that they lived on the very territory which,
according to Ptolemy, was occupied by the Jazyges: Metanastae in his
time, at once jumped to the conclusion that they were lineal descendants
of the wild horsemen mentioned by the classic author. We know how hard
anything false dies, and so we find this statement copied by subsequent
writers, and even disfiguring the pages of so excellent a work as
Smith's _Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography_, sub. art. "Jazyges."
A still wilder mistake was made by a scribe of King Sigismund, who
re-christened the Jász folk "Philistæi," which afterwards appears in
many deeds. It would appear to be reasoned out thus; a "Jász," or
"bowman," must naturally handle a bow and arrow; but an arrow is called
"pfeil" in German, which comes from the old German "phil," hence
Jász-Philistæi, Q. E. D! Cf. Hunfalvy's _Ethnography loco citato_.
[37] _Vide infra_, p. 412, &c.
[38] _Ethnography of Hungary_, p. 362.
[39] The true born Magyar repudiates with scorn the idea that there is
any such thing as a dialect, boasting that rich and poor speak the same
tongue. Cf. _Galeoti Martii, de Matthiæ egregie, sapienter, fortiter et
jocose dictis ac factis libellus_, ed. Cassoviæ, 1611. "Unde fit ut
carmen lingua Hungarica compositum rusticis et civibus, mediis et
extremis, eodem tenore intelligatur." Galeoti was an Italian by birth,
and Papal Nuncio at the Court of Matthias I. (Corvinus), King of
Hungary.
[40] There is a passage in the writings of Nicolaus Oláh (_Hungaria et
Attila_, cap. xix. § 3) which at first sight seems to ascribe a separate
language to each of the peoples named in the text. According to him,
"the whole of Hungary in our days (xvith century) contains various
nations, viz., Magyars, Germans, Czechs, Slováks, Croats, Saxons,
Székelys, Wallachs, Servians, Cumans, Jazyges, Ruthens, and finally
Turks, and all these (nations) "differenti inter se utuntur lingua,"
except that some of the words may appear somewhat similar and identical
in sound in consequence of (their) protracted use and (the continuous)
contact (of the said nations with each other)." Against this, we may
urge, that if the language of the Székelys, for example, differed no
more from the Magyar than the German speech from that of the Saxons,
they can scarcely be described as two different languages. Moreover,
another writer says, that the "Hungari nobiles ejusdem regionis
(Transylvaniæ) passim intermixti Saxonibus, cum Ciculis propemodum tam
sermone, quam vestitu et armis conveniunt." See _Respublica Hungarica_,
1634. We have good reasons for believing that the passage has been
copied by the Elzevirian compiler from the _Chronigraphica Transylvaniæ_
of George Reijchersdorffer, 1550.
[41] Cf. Simpleton stories and lying stories, many of which as told in
Hungary, Finland, and Flanders, and even amongst the Lapps, are
identical with those we hear in Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, Northumberland,
and Norfolk.
[42] Professor Vambéry says: there are many features in Hungarian
Folk-Tales which can be found in the tales of China, and other Asiatic
countries, ancient and modern. The characteristics of the chief
personages in the tales show that the tales have been imported by the
Magyars from their old Asiatic homes, although a Slavonic influence
cannot be denied.
[43] P. 239 _infra_. See also remains of the Turkish occupation and
their barbarous doings in the children's rhyme:
"Lady bird, lady bird, fly away, fly away,
For the Turks are coming!
They will throw you into a well full of salt water:
They will take you out, and break you on the wheel."
Dark wine produced at Eger (Erlau) is called "Turk's blood."
[44] Pp. 70, 118.
[45] P. 5, _infra_.
[46] "Stephen the Murderer," "Fisher Joe," and the "Baa Lambs" in this
collection. Cf. "Die Engel-lämmer" _Aus der im Auftrage der
Kisfaludy-Gesellschaft von Lad Arany und Paul Gyulai besorgten_.
Ungarische Revue viii. ix. Heft, 1885, p. 640, and note, which says:
"Eines der wenigen ungarischen Volkmärchen, in welche die christliche
Mythologie hineinspielt."
[47] Cf. Such stories as "Handsome Paul," p. 29 _infra et seq._
[48] See all this beautifully sketched by Czuczor, in his poem _Joannes
Háry_.
[49] That the Magyar soldier can tell stories may be seen in Gaál's
tales, most of which Arany tells us have a most undesirable flavour of
the barracks about them.
[50] John Erdélyi (born 1814, died 1868), Hungarian poet and author,
elected Member of the Hungarian Academy of Science, 1839.
[51] These tales were collected from soldiers: and are full of
unnecessary flourishes and coarse barrack-room jokes.
[52] John Kriza (born 1812, died 1875), born in a small village of
Székely parents. Unitarian minister, professor, poet, and author,
elected Member of the Academy, 1841.
[53] A second volume has, I believe, since appeared.
[54] Ladislaus Arany objects to this collection, on the ground that the
collector has tried to improve on the original popular form, and
endeavoured to produce something classic, and thus spoiled the stories.
[55] Giant in Magyar is: "Óriás" i. e. a tall man, tall father. Cf. pp.
99, 147, 318, 340. Cf, numerous stories of giants and what they are like
in Friis. _Lappiske Eventyr_ and Hofberg. _Svenska Sägner_.
[56] See pp. 146 and 388.
[57] See "Knight Rose," p. 57.
[58] See "Knight Rose," p. 55.
[59] Cf. "Handsome Paul," p. 26 _infra_, where another illustration of
their size will be found; also the giant in Swedish tale who travelled
from Dalecarlia to Stockholm, and the bread was still warm in his
knapsack when he ended his journey.
[60] Cf. _Friis_. "Jetanis." _Hofberg._ "Bron öfver Kalmarsund"
"Ulfgrytstenarna" "Ruggabron" and "Stenen i Grönan dal."
[61] Vide pp. 345 and 392 _infra_.
[62] Vide "Prince Mirkó," p. 72.
[63] In Hungary, the village blacksmith is a gipsy as a rule.
[64] Vide "Shepherd Paul," p. 244 and note p. 407.
[65] Cf. "A Lincolnshire tale," p. 363.
[66] Cf. Story as found in Finland, Lapland, and Sweden, of Kaleva's
daughter, who, finding a man, put him and his horse and plough into her
apron, and carrying them off to her mother, asked what sort of a dung
beetle this was she had found scratching the earth, receiving a similar
answer to the above-mentioned one. Cf. Hofberg. _Svenska Sägner_, Jätten
Puke. Dybeck, _Runa_ 1845, p. 15, and Thiel _Danmarks. Folksagn_ ii. p.
228.
[67] Vide "Handsome Paul" and "Fairy Elizabeth."
[68] See "Prince Mirkó."
[69] Cf. _Rancken_, "Munsala," 22 i.: Wörå, 22: where a description of
buried treasures will to be found. Also _Hofberg_, "Den forlärade
skatten," "Guldvaggan," "Skatten i Säbybäcken," "Skattgräfvarna," vide
_infra_. pp. xxx. xxxvii.
[70] Amongst the numerous stories of hidden treasures, I may note two I
heard in my own parish lately. There is a chest of gold buried in Mumby
Hill, and an old man went by "his'sen," and dug and dug, and would have
got it, but so many little devils came round him, he had to give up.
The other tale is a long story of a man who went to an old house, and
every thing he did "a little devil" did, and as the man could not be
frightened a vast hidden treasure was revealed to him.--W. H. J.
[71] Rancken, _Några åkerbruksplägseder i Finland_. Munsala, 22, c. and
d. Hofberg. _Svenska Sägner_ "Skogsrået och Sjörået," and
"Ysätters-Kajsa."
[72] "Fairy Elizabeth," "Handsome Paul," "Knight Rose," and "Prince
Mirkó" are full of the doings of fairies.
[73] Cf. Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, "The Baba Yaga," p. 143.
_Afanassieff_, i. No. 3 b.
[74] This is the nearest translation. In the original a hyphen between
gold and mountain, silver and valley, alters the meaning.
[75] _i.e._ "For ever." A form of orientalism which frequently occurs in
Magyar folk-poetry. For instance,
Cf. "My rose I will not marry you
Until there are no fish in the lake,
And as there always will be
You see, my rose, I cannot marry you."
[76] The waters of the two rivers flow into the Theiss, this into the
Danube, and the Danube into the Black Sea.
[77] Baron Orbán's _Székelyland_.
[78] Bishop Arnold Ipolyi, _Magyar Mythology_.
[79] Ladislaus Köváry, _Historical Antiquities_.
[80] In consequence of the Turkish rule over Hungary. Buda was 157 years
in the hands of the Turks.
[81] _Vide_ Baron Orbán, _Székelyland_.
[82] One must be careful not to confound, as many writers do, the
witches of fairy tales, with the old women who are designated as witches
by the common people.
[83] Cf. Many Lincolnshire and Yorkshire tales.
[84] Cf. _Rancken_, "Purmo" 27, and "Munsala," 25.
[85] It is interesting to note that, although prosecution for witchcraft
was only abolished in England under George II. in 1736, in Hungary it
was abolished under Coloman the Learned, who reigned 1095-1114, for a
very cogent reason, "Witches are not to be prosecuted, as they do not
exist!"
[86] The Hungarian cattle have long erect horns like those of the Roman
campagna.
[87] Cf. p. 203 _infra._
[88] As the wolf in the Finnish tale, "The Golden Bird."
[89] See _Folk Medicine_.
[90] Charm-weed.
[91] Square pieces of linen without seam or hem, wrapped round the bare
foot, instead of socks.
[92] Only lately, a man in my own parish said that when "Maud was a
young 'un, she was amazin' badly. The doctors could do nowt for her: she
was all skin and bone. Doctors said it wor a decline; but a' didn't
believe it, for she did sqweäl amazin'. It was all an owd woman who used
to sell pins and needles." It appears, this old woman always gave, and
insisted upon giving, Maud, some little thing; and at last they
perceived the child was "witched"; so the next time the old woman
appeared, another daughter ordered her off, and the child recovered; the
same old woman is said to have "witched" another child in the parish in
like manner. I may add "Maud" is now a fine strapping girl, and vows
vengeance on the witch.--W. H. J.
[93] Cf. _Hofberg_, "Bissen," the manner of "laying ghosts," is noticed,
_ib._ "Herrn till Rosendal."
[94] In some parts of Finland the same superstition is, or was, current
(_e.g._ in Munsala). Unbaptized children are specially liable to be
changed by the trolls, but this may be prevented by putting Holy
Scripture in the cradle, or silver coins, scissors, or other sharp
tools. Cf. _Hofberg_, Svenska Folksägner "Bortbytingen."
[95] Cf. _Hofberg_ "Mylingen," "Tomten." See also _Några
åkerbruksplägseder bland svenskarne i Finland_ af Dr. J. Oscar I.
Rancken.
[96] Cf. _Rancken_. "Munsala," 22 g.
[97] This belonged formerly to a well-known medicine man, who practised
over three countries. There are hundreds and hundreds of cures in it.
[98] This class of ingredients occupied an important place in the
pharmacopœia of the physicians of the middle ages. Cf. _Liber
Secundus Practicae Haly_ cap. 51, "De stercoribus et fimis," p. 178
(Lyons 1523).
[99]
"I physicks 'em, I bleeds 'em, I sweats 'em,
And if they _will_ die, I lets 'em."
[100] See "Christmas Day."
[101] Steel and flint are still in extensive use among smokers in rural
districts.
[102] The Magyar name of quinsy is torokgyik, _i.e._ throat-lizard.
[103] Varga does not seem to know anything about
"The dead, shrivelled hand ...
... of the gentleman dangling up there."
[104] So far is this day considered unlucky in Portugal that we heard of
a Portuguese young lady who had ordered a harp from England: it
unfortunately arrived at her house on Friday, and was sent away till
Saturday, although she was "dying to try it!" Tuesday is also regarded
as unlucky in Portugal.
On St. Peter's Day, in Portugal, the saint is said to have a holiday,
and take the keys with him, and the fisher-folk assert that if anyone is
drowned on that day the chances are he will be sent to the "wrong
place."
Cf. "Ma foi sur l'avenir bien fou qui se fiera,
Tel qui rit vendredi, dimanche pleurera."--
Racine au commencement de la comédie des Plaideurs.
[105] One is said to be most liable to be punished at this time on this
account.
[106] Garlic is said to be a charm against evil. See _Notes and
Queries_, 6 S. ix. 5.
[107] It is a common superstition in many parts of Yorkshire that fire
must not go out of the house between New and Old Christmas Day. An old
nurse told us she once went home during this time and her neighbours
would not even give her a match that she might light her candle and so
find her own.
[108] Cf. Yorkshire, Yule-candle.
[109] Lead is cast in Finland to see whether fortune or misfortune is in
store; in these degenerate days "stearine," has been used by impatient
souls. See also Burnaby, _Ride to Khiva_, cap. xxii.
[110] Elton's _Origins of English History_, 270, 271.
[111] See _Glossaire de la langue Romane_, par J. B. B. Roquefort.
Paris, 1808.
[112] See Cormac's Glossary, under "Beltene," _Revue Celtique_, iv. 193;
Grimm, _Deutsche Mythol._ 579.
[113] "C'était en beaucoup d'endroits en France l'usage de jeter dans le
feu de la Saint-Jean des mannes ou des paniers en osier contenant des
animaux, chats, chiens, renards, loups. Au siècle dernier même dans
plusieurs villes c'était le maire ou les échevins qui faisaient mettre
dans un panier une ou deux douzaines de chats pour brûler dans le feu de
joie. Cette coutûme existait aussi à Paris, et elle n'y a été supprimée
qu'au commencement du règne de Louis XIV."--Gaidoz, _Esquisse de la
Religion des Gaulois_, 21.
[114] In the West-end of London there is a house where No. 13 is
cancelled, and the house re-numbered 15A for the very same reason. The
people are _comme il faut_, and consider themselves educated.
[115] Plover.--_Notes and Queries_ 4th S. viii. 268. On the Lancashire
Moors there is a tradition that the plovers contain the souls of those
Jews who assisted at the Crucifixion.
[116] Hungarian saying: "To speak snakes and frogs after a man," to say
everything that is bad about him.
[117] Or dig.
[118] I (writes a Magyar friend) have seen a youth use this stuff to
produce a beard and moustache, and the whole of his skin was covered
with ugly sores.
[119] German name, Himmelbrandt, Wollkraut, Königskerre; French,
bouillon blanc, molène.
[120] The superstitions marked * have been in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire
quite lately.
[121] The small heap of soil thrown up by ants.
[122] The modern custom is to lift the glass and say "Isten éltesse!"
("may God let you live.")
[123] The Finnish reformer, Michael Agricola, in his preface to the 1551
edition of the Finnish Psalms, prepared by him, mentions the idols and
sacrifices of the old Finns. The passage relating to this matter is in
verses, and especially of the _Carialians_ he says the following:
"_Egres_ creates them peas, beans, and carrots, cabbage, flax, and hemp;
_Köndös_ guards their cleared grounds and ploughed fields as they
superstitiously believe; and when they finished their spring-sowing,
then they drank Ukko's Cup."
"Kuin kevä-kylvä kylvettiin
Silloin Ukon malja juottiin."
[124] "Wie Thor's cleinne trank man Ukko zu ehren volle Schale." _Mythol
Vorr_ xxviii. In Sweden, as toasts, the only word they mention is
"skål," cup; this is a meagre reminder of "Thor's Schåle."
[125] Not Tokay; that is German. We have a hazy recollection that one of
the Popes--it may have been Sylvester II. (A.D. 1000) or Pio Nono--upon
receiving a small cask of Tokaj wine, exclaimed "Talc vinum summum
pontificem decet!" or words to this effect.
[126] "Áldomás," from "áldani" (Latin offerre and benedicere)
hence--"sacrificium" and "benedictio." Cf. "Ultemaš"--"preces" in
Cheremiss. In the district of Hradist in Moravia, "oldomaš
pit"--"áldoma's drink." In modern Magyar the word "áldozni" is used for
to sacrifice. Whether the Magyar and Finnish Ukko are the same, or
whether it is a mere coincidence, we are not prepared to say. Hunfalvy
makes much of it.
[127] Ukkon-pohar-felmutato volt.
[128] In modern times the bargain is first settled and the "liquor"
comes afterwards, _tout comme chez nous_ in England.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Preface v
Introduction vii
Contents lxx
TALES AND NOTES.
I.--Prince Csihan 1
Notes 303
II.--Stephen the Murderer 7
Notes 306
III.--The Lamb with the Golden Fleece 13
Notes 312
IV.--Fisher Joe 15
Notes 313
V.--Luck and Bliss 22
Notes 317
VI.--The Lazy Cat 23
VII.--Handsome Paul 25
Notes 317
VIII.--The Travels of Truth and Falsehood 36
Notes 322
IX.--The Hunting Princes 39
Notes 324
X.--The Lazy Spinning Girl 46
Notes 330
XI.--The Envious Sisters 49
Notes 335
XII.--Knight Rose 54
Notes 339
XIII.--Prince Mirkó 59
Notes 344
XIV.--The Student who was forcibly made King 76
Notes 354
XV.--The Children of the Two Rich Men 80
Notes 355
XVI.--The Hussar and the Servant Girl 83
Notes 360
XVII.--My Father's Wedding 86
Notes 360
XVIII.--The Baa-Lambs 90
Notes 361
XIX.--Fairy Elizabeth 95
Notes 362
XX.--The Three Princes 110
Notes 373
XXI.--The Three Dreams 117
Notes 375
XXII.--Csabor Ur 123
Notes 380
XXIII.--The Devil and the Three Slovák Lads 126
Notes 383
XXIV.--The Count's Daughter 127
Notes 383
XXV.--The Speaking Grapes 131
Notes 383
XXVI.--The Three Oranges 133
Notes 386
XXVII.--The Youngest Prince 137
Notes 387
XXVIII.--The Invisible Shepherd Lad 141
Notes 387
XXIX.--The Three Princesses 144
Notes 388
XXX.--Cinder Jack 149
Notes 389
XXXI.--The Three Brothers 152
Notes 391
XXXII.--The Three Valuable Things 155
Notes 392
XXXIII.--The Little Magic Pony 157
Notes 392
XXXIV.--The Beggars' Present 161
Notes 394
XXXV.--The World's Beautiful Woman 163
Notes 395
XXXVI.--The Girl without Hands 182
Notes 397
XXXVII.--The King and the Devil 188
Notes 397
XXXVIII.--The Three Princes, &c. 196
Notes 399
XXXIX.--The Widower and his Daughter 207
Notes 401
XL.--The Wishes 217
Notes 402
XLI.--The Two Orphans 220
Notes 402
XLII.--The Wonderful Frog 224
Notes 404
XLIII.--The Devil and the Red Cap 225
Notes 405
XLIV.--Jack Dreadnought 228
Notes 405
XLV.--The Secret keeping Little Boy 232
Notes 406
XLVI.--Shepherd Paul 244
Notes 407
XLVII.--The Pelican 250
Notes 409
XLVIII.--The Girl with the Golden Hair 262
Notes 413
XLIX.--The Lover's Ghost 278
Notes 416
L.--Snake Skin 282
Notes 417
LI.--The Fairies' Well 288
Notes 418
LII.--The Crow's Nest 298
Notes 418
LIII.--Woman's Curiosity 301
Notes 421
Index 423
MAGYAR FOLK-TALES.
PRINCE CSIHAN (NETTLES).
There was once--I don't know where, at the other side of seven times
seven countries, or even beyond them, on the tumble-down side of a
tumble-down stove--a poplar-tree, and this poplar-tree had sixty-five
branches, and on every branch sat sixty-six crows; and may those who
don't listen to my story have their eyes picked out by those crows!
There was a miller who was so proud that had he stept on an egg he would
not have broken it. There was a time when the mill was in full work, but
once as he was tired of his mill-work he said, "May God take me out of
this mill!" Now, this miller had an auger, a saw, and an adze, and he
set off over seven times seven countries, and never found a mill. So his
wish was fulfilled. On he went, roaming about, till at last he found on
the bank of the Gagy, below Martonos, a tumble-down mill, which was
covered with nettles. Here he began to build, and he worked, and by the
time the mill was finished all his stockings were worn into holes and
his garments all tattered and torn. He then stood expecting people to
come and have their flour ground; but no one ever came.
One day the twelve huntsmen of the king were chasing a fox; and it came
to where the miller was, and said to him: "Hide me, miller, and you
shall be rewarded for your kindness." "Where shall I hide you?" said the
miller, "seeing that I possess nothing but the clothes I stand in?"
"There is an old torn sack lying beside that trough," replied the fox;
"throw it over me, and, when the dogs come, drive them away with your
broom." When the huntsmen came they asked the miller if he had seen a
fox pass that way. "How could I have seen it; for, behold, I have
nothing but the clothes I stand in?" With that the huntsmen left, and in
a little while the fox came out and said, "Miller, I thank you for your
kindness; for you have preserved me, and saved my life. I am anxious to
do you a good turn if I can. Tell me, do you want to get married?" "My
dear little fox," said the miller, "if I could get a wife, who would
come here of her own free will, I don't say that I would not--indeed,
there is no other way of my getting one; for I can't go among the
spinning-girls in these clothes." The fox took leave of the miller, and,
in less than a quarter of an hour, he returned with a piece of copper in
his mouth. "Here you are, miller," said he; "put this away, _you will
want_ it ere long." The miller put it away, and the fox departed; but,
before long, he came back with a lump of gold in his mouth. "Put this
away, also," said he to the miller, "as you will need it before long."
"And now," said the fox, "wouldn't you like to get married?" "Well, my
dear little fox," said the miller, "I am quite willing to do so at any
moment, as that is my special desire." The fox vanished again, but soon
returned with a lump of diamond in his mouth. "Well, miller," said the
fox, "I will not _ask_ you any more to get married; I will get you a
wife myself. And now give me that piece of copper I gave you." Then,
taking it in his mouth, the fox started off over seven times seven
countries, and travelled till he came to King Yellow Hammer's. "Good
day, most gracious King Yellow Hammer," said the fox; "my life and death
are in your majesty's hands. I have heard that you have an unmarried
daughter. I am a messenger from Prince Csihan, who has sent me to ask
for your daughter as his wife." "I will give her with pleasure, my dear
little fox," replied King Yellow Hammer; "I will not refuse her; on the
contrary, I give her with great pleasure; but I would do so more
willingly if I saw to whom she is to be married--even as it is, I will
not refuse her."
The fox accepted the king's proposal, and they fixed a day upon which
they would fetch the lady. "Very well," said the fox; and, taking leave
of the king, set off with the ring to the miller.
"Now then, miller," said the fox, "you are no longer a miller, but
Prince Csihan, and on a certain day and hour you must be ready to start;
but, first of all, give me that lump of gold I gave you that I may take
it to His Majesty King Yellow Hammer, so that he may not think you are a
nobody."
The fox then started off to the king. "Good day, most gracious king, my
father. Prince Csihan has sent this lump of gold to my father the king
that he may spend it in preparing for the wedding, and that he might
change it, as Prince Csihan has no smaller change, his gold all being in
lumps like this."
"Well," reasoned King Yellow Hammer, "I am not sending my daughter to a
bad sort of place, for although I am a king I have no such lumps of gold
lying about in my palace."
The fox then returned home to Prince Csihan. "Now then, Prince Csihan,"
said he, "I have arrived safely, you see; prepare yourself to start
to-morrow."
Next morning he appeared before Prince Csihan. "Are you ready?" asked
he. "Oh! yes, I am ready; I can start at any moment, as I got ready
long ago."
With this they started over seven times seven lands. As they passed a
hedge the fox said, "Prince Csihan, do you see that splendid castle?"
"How could I help seeing it, my dear little fox." "Well," replied the
fox, "in that castle dwells your wife." On they went, when suddenly the
fox said, "Take off the clothes you have on, let us put them into this
hollow tree, and then burn them, so that we may get rid of them." "You
are right, we won't have them, nor any like them."
Then said the fox, "Prince Csihan, go into the river and take a bath."
Having done so the prince said, "Now I've done." "All right," said the
fox; "go and sit in the forest until I go into the king's presence." The
fox set off and arrived at King Yellow Hammer's castle. "Alas! my
gracious king, my life and my death are in thy hands. I started with
Prince Csihan with three loaded wagons and a carriage and six horses,
and I've just managed to get the prince naked out of the water." The
king raised his hands in despair, exclaiming, "Where hast thou left my
dear son-in-law, little fox?" "Most gracious king, I left him in
such-and-such a place in the forest." The king at once ordered four
horses to be put to a carriage, and then looked up the robes he wore in
his younger days and ordered them to be put in the carriage; the
coachman and footman to take their places, the fox sitting on the box.
When they arrived at the forest the fox got down, and the footman,
carrying the clothes upon his arm, took them to Prince Csihan. Then said
the fox to the servant, "Don't you dress the prince, he will do it more
becomingly himself." He then made Prince Csihan arise, and said, "Come
here, Prince Csihan, don't stare at yourself too much when you get
dressed in these clothes, else the king might think you were not used to
such robes." Prince Csihan got dressed, and drove off to the king. When
they arrived, King Yellow Hammer took his son-in-law in his arms and
said, "Thanks be to God, my dear future son-in-law, for that He has
preserved thee from the great waters; and now let us send for the
clergyman and let the marriage take place."
The grand ceremony over, they remained at the court of the king. One
day, a month or so after they were married, the princess said to Prince
Csihan, "My dear treasure, don't you think it would be as well to go and
see your realm?" Prince Csihan left the room in great sorrow, and went
towards the stables in great trouble to get ready for the journey he
could no longer postpone. Here he met the fox lolling about. As the
prince came his tears rolled down upon the straw. "Hollo! Prince Csihan,
what's the matter?" cried the fox. "Quite enough," was the reply; "my
dear wife insists upon going to see my home." "All right," said the fox;
"prepare yourself, Prince Csihan, and we will go."
The prince went off to his castle and said, "Dear wife, get ready; we
will start at once." The king ordered out a carriage and six, and three
waggons loaded with treasure and money, so that they might have all they
needed. So they started off. Then said the fox, "Now, Prince Csihan,
wherever I go you must follow." So they went over seven times seven
countries. As they travelled they met a herd of oxen. "Now, herdsmen,"
said the fox, "if you won't say that this herd belongs to the Vasfogu
Bába, but to Prince Csihan, you shall have a handsome present." With
this the fox left them, and ran straight to the Vasfogu Bába. "Good day,
my mother," said he. "Welcome, my son," replied she; "it's a good thing
for you that you called me your mother, else I would have crushed your
bones smaller than poppy-seed." "Alas! my mother," said the fox, "don't
let us waste our time talking such nonsense, the French are coming!"
"Oh! my dear son, hide me away somewhere!" cried the old woman. "I know
of a bottomless lake," thought the fox; and he took her and left her on
the bank, saying, "Now, my dear old mother, wash your feet here until I
return." The fox then left the Vasfogu Bába, and went to Prince Csihan,
whom he found standing in the same place where he left him. He began to
swear and rave at him fearfully. "Why didn't you drive on after me? come
along at once." They arrived at the Vasfogu's great castle, and took
possession of a suite of apartments. Here they found everything the
heart could wish for, and at night all went to bed in peace.
Suddenly the fox remembered that the Vasfogu Bába had no proper abode
yet, and set off to her. "I hear, my dear son," said she, "that the
horses with their bells have arrived; take me away to another place."
The fox crept up behind her, gave her a push, and she fell into the
bottomless lake, and was drowned, leaving all her vast property to
Prince Csihan. "You were born under a lucky star, my prince," said the
fox, when he returned; "for see I have placed you in possession of all
this great wealth." In his joy the prince gave a great feast to
celebrate his coming into his property, so that the people from Bánczida
to Zsukhajna were feasted royally, but he gave them no drink. "Now,"
said the fox to himself, "after all this feasting I will sham illness,
and see what treatment I shall receive at his hands in return for all my
kindness to him." So Mr. Fox became dreadfully ill, he moaned and
groaned so fearfully that the neighbours made complaint to the prince.
"Seize him," said the prince, "and pitch him out on the dunghill." So
the poor fox was thrown out on the dunghill. One day Prince Csihan was
passing that way. "You a prince!" muttered the fox; "you are nothing
else but a miller; would you like to be a house-holder such as you were
at the nettle-mill?" The prince was terrified by this speech of the fox,
so terrified that he nearly fainted. "Oh! dear little fox, do not do
that," cried the prince, "and I promise you on my royal word that I
will give you the same food as I have, and that so long as I live you
shall be my dearest friend and you shall be honoured as my greatest
benefactor."
He then ordered the fox to be taken to the castle, and to sit at the
royal table, nor did he ever forget him again.
So they lived happily ever after, and do yet, if they are not dead. May
they be your guests to-morrow!
STEPHEN THE MURDERER.
There was once, I don't know where, over seven times seven countries, or
even beyond that, a very, very rich farmer, and opposite to him lived
another farmer just as rich. One had a son and the other a daughter.
These two farmers often talked over family matters together at their
gates, and at last arranged that their children should marry each other,
so that in case the old people died the young people would be able to
take possession of the farms. But the young girl could not bear the
young man, although he was very fond of her. Then her parents threatened
to disinherit her if she did not marry as she was bid, as they were very
wishful for the marriage to take place.
On the wedding morning, when they arrived at church, and were standing
before the altar, the bride took the wedding ring and dashed it on the
floor before the clergyman, saying, "Here, Satan, take this ring; and,
if ever I bear a child to this man, take it too!" In a moment the devil
appeared, snatched up the ring, and vanished. The priest, seeing and
hearing all that was done, declined to proceed with the ceremony,
whereupon the fathers remonstrated with him, and declared that if he did
not proceed he would lose his living. The wedding thereupon was duly
celebrated.
As time went by the farmers both died; and the young folks, who couldn't
bear each other before, at last grew very fond of each other, and a
handsome boy was born. When he was old enough he went to school, where
he got on so well that before long his master could teach him no more.
He then went to college, where he did the same as at school, so that his
parents began to think of him taking holy orders. About this time his
father died; and he noticed that every night when he came home from the
college that his mother was weeping: so he asked her why she wept.
"Never mind me, my son," said she; "I am grieving over your father."
"But you never cared much for him," said he; "cheer up, for I shall
soon be a priest." "That's the very thing I'm weeping over," said his
mother; "for just when you will be doing well the devils will come for
you, because when I was married to your father I dashed the wedding-ring
on the ground, saying, 'Here, Satan, take this ring; and if ever I bear
a child to this man take it too.' One fine day, then, you will be
carried off by the devil in the same way as the ring." "Is this indeed
true, mother?" said the student. "It is indeed, my son." With that he
went off to the priest, and said, "Godfather, are these things which my
mother tells me concerning her wedding true?" "My dear godson," replied
the priest, "they are true; for I saw and heard all myself." "Dear
godfather, give me then at once holy candles, holy water, and incense."
"Why do you want them, my son?" asked the priest. "Because," replied the
student, "I mean to go to hell at once, after that lost ring and the
deed of agreement." "Don't rush into their hands," said the priest;
"they will come for you soon enough." But the more the priest talked the
more determined was the student to set off at once for the infernal
regions.
So off he went, and travelled over seven times seven countries. One
evening he arrived at a large forest, and, as darkness set in, he lost
his way and roamed about hither and thither looking for some place to
rest; at last he found a small cottage where an old woman lived. "Good
evening, mother," said he. "Good luck has brought you here, my son,"
said she. "What are you doing out here so late?" "I have lost my way,"
replied the student, "and have come here to ask for a night's lodging."
"I can give you lodging, my son, but I have a murderous heathen son, who
has destroyed three hundred and sixty-six lives, and even now is out
robbing. He might return at any moment, and he would kill you; so you
had better go somewhere else and continue your way in peace, and mind
you take care not to meet him."
"Whether he kill me or not," said the student, "I shall not stir an
inch." As the old woman could not persuade him to go he stayed. After
midnight the son returned, and shouted out loudly under the window,
"Have you got my supper ready?" He then crept in on his knees, for he
was so tall that he could not enter otherwise. As they sat at table he
suddenly saw the student. "Mother, what sort of a guest is that?" said
he. "He's a poor tramp, my son, and very tired." "Has he had anything to
eat?" "No; I offered him food, but he was too tired to eat." "Go and
wake him, and say, 'Come and eat'; because whether he eat or whether he
let the food alone he will repent it."
"Hollo!" said the student, "what is the matter?"
"Don't ask any questions," replied the old woman; "but come and eat."
The student obeyed, and they sat down to supper. "Don't eat much," said
the old woman's son, "because you will repent it if you do eat and you
will repent it if you don't." While they were eating the old woman's son
said, "Where are you going, mate--what is your destination?" "Straight
to hell, among the devils," quoth the student.
"It was my intention to kill you with a blow; but now that I know where
you are going I will not touch you. Find out for me what sort of a bed
they have prepared for me in that place."
"What is your name?"
"My name," said he, "is Stephen the Murderer."
In the morning, when they awoke, Stephen gave the student a good
breakfast, and showed him which way to go. On he travelled till at
length he approached the gates of hell. He then lighted his incense,
sprinkled the holy water, and lighted the holy candles. In a very short
time the devils began to smell the incense, and ran out, crying, "What
sort of an animal are you? Don't come here! Don't approach this place;
or we will leave it at once!"
"Wherever you go," said the student, "I tell you I will follow you; for,
on such and such a date, you carried off from the church floor my
mother's wedding-ring; and if you don't return it and cancel the
agreement, and promise me that I will have no more trouble from you, I
will follow you wherever you go." "Don't come here," cried they; "stop
where you are, and we will get them for you at once."
They then blew a whistle and the devils came hastily out from all
directions, so many you could not count them, but they could not find
the ring anywhere. They sounded the whistle again, and twice as many
came as before, but still the ring was not to be found. They then
whistled a third time, and twice as many more came. One fellow came
limping up, very late. "Why don't you hurry," cried the others; "don't
you see that a great calamity has happened? The ring can't be found.
Turn out everybody's pockets, and on who ever it is found throw him into
the bed of Stephen the Murderer." "Wait a moment," cried the lame one,
"before you throw me into Stephen the Murderer's bed. I would rather
produce three hundred wedding-rings than be thrown into that place:"
whereupon he at once produced the ring, which they threw over the wall
to the student, together with the agreement, crying out that it was
cancelled.
One evening the student arrived back at Stephen the Murderer's. The
latter was out robbing. After midnight, as usual, he returned, and when
he saw the student he woke him, saying, "Get up, let's have something to
eat! And have you been to hell?"
"I have." "What have you heard of my bed?" "We should never have got the
ring," said the student, "if the devils had not been threatened with
your bed." "Well," said Stephen, "that must be a bad bed if the devils
are afraid of it."
They got up the next morning, and the student started for home. Suddenly
it struck Stephen the Murderer that as the student had made himself
happy he ought to do as much for him. So he started after the student,
who, when he saw him coming, was very much afraid lest he should be
killed. In a stride or two Stephen overtook the student. "Stop, my
friend; as you have bettered your lot, better mine, so that I may not go
to that awful bed in hell."
"Well then," said the student, "did you kill your first man with a club
or a knife?" "I never killed anybody with a knife," said Stephen, "they
have all been killed with a club." "Have you got the club you killed the
first man with? Go back and fetch it."
Stephen took one or two strides and was at home. He then took the club
from the shelf and brought it to the student; it was so worm-eaten that
you could not put a needle-point on it between the holes. "What sort of
wood is this made of?" asked the student. "Wild apple-tree," replied
Stephen. "Take it and come with me," said the student, "to the top of
the rock." On the top of the rock there was a small hill; into this he
bade him plant the club. "Now, uncle Stephen, go down under the rock,
and there you will find a small spring trickling down the face of the
stone. Go on your knees to this spring and pray, and, creeping on your
knees, carry water in your mouth to this club, and continue to do so
till it buds; it will then bear apples, and when it does you will be
free from that bed."
Stephen the Murderer began to carry the water to the club, and the
student left him, and went home. He was at once made a priest on account
of his courage in going to hell; and after he had been a priest for
twenty-five years they made him pope, and this he was for many years.
In those days it was the rule--according to an old custom--for the pope
to make a tour of his country, and it so happened that this pope came to
his journey's end, on the very rock upon which the club had been
planted. He stopped there with his suite, in order to rest. Suddenly one
of the servants saw a low tree on the top of the rock, covered with
beautiful red apples. "Your holiness," said he to the pope, "I have seen
most beautiful red apples, and if you will permit me I will go and
gather some." "Go," said the pope, "and if they are so very beautiful
bring some to me." The servant approached the tree; as he drew near he
heard a voice that frightened him terribly saying, "No one is allowed to
pluck this fruit except him who planted the tree." Off rushed the
servant to the pope, who asked him if he had brought any apples.
"Your holiness, I did not even get any for myself," gasped the servant,
"because some one shouted to me so loudly that I nearly dropped; I saw
no one, but only heard a voice that said, 'No one is allowed to pluck
this fruit but the man who planted the tree.'"
The pope began to think, and all at once he remembered that he had
planted the tree when he was a lad. He ordered the horses to be taken
out of his carriage, and, with his servant and his coachman, he set off
to the red apple-tree. When they arrived, the pope cried out, "Stephen
the Murderer, where are you?" A dried-up skull rolled out, and said,
"Here I am, your holiness; all the limbs of my body dropped off whilst I
was carrying water, and are scattered all around; every nerve and muscle
lies strewn here; but, if the pope commands, they will all come
together." The pope did so, and the scattered members came together into
a heap.
The servant and the coachman were then ordered to open a large, deep
hole, and to put the bones into it, and then cover all up, which they
did. The pope then said mass, and gave the absolution, and at that
moment Stephen the Murderer was delivered from the dreadful bed in hell.
The pope then went back to his own country, where he still lives, if he
has not died since.
THE LAMB WITH THE GOLDEN FLEECE.
There was once a poor man who had a son, and as the son grew up his
father sent him out to look for work. The son travelled about looking
for a place, and at last met with a man who arranged to take him as a
shepherd. Next day his master gave him a flute, and sent him out with
the sheep to see whether he was fit for his work. The lad never lay down
all day, very unlike many lazy fellows. He drove his sheep from place to
place and played his flute all day long. There was among the sheep a
lamb with golden fleece, which, whenever he played his flute, began to
dance. The lad became very fond of this lamb, and made up his mind not
to ask any wages of his master, but only this little lamb. In the
evening he returned home; his master waited at the gate; and, when he
saw the sheep all there and all well-fed, he was very pleased, and
began to bargain with the lad, who said he wished for nothing but the
lamb with the golden fleece. The farmer was very fond of the lamb
himself, and it was with great unwillingness he promised it; but he gave
in afterwards when he saw what a good servant the lad made. The year
passed away; the lad received the lamb for his wages, and set off home
with it. As they journeyed night set in just as he reached a village, so
he went to a farmhouse to ask for a night's lodging. There was a
daughter in the house who when she saw the lamb with the golden fleece
determined to steal it. About midnight she arose, and lo! the moment she
touched the lamb she stuck hard-and-fast to its fleece, so that when the
lad got up he found her stuck to the lamb. He could not separate them,
and as he could not leave his lamb he took them both. As he passed the
third door from the house where he had spent the night he took out his
flute and began to play. Then the lamb began to dance, and on the wool
the girl. Round the corner a woman was putting bread into the oven;
looking up she saw the lamb dancing, and on its wool the girl. Seizing
the peel in order to frighten the girl, she rushed out and shouted, "Get
away home with you, don't make such a fool of yourself." As the girl
continued dancing the woman called out, "What, won't you obey?" and gave
her a blow on her back with the peel, which at once stuck to the girl,
and the woman to the peel, and the lamb carried them all off. As they
went they came to the church. Here the lad began to play again, the lamb
began to dance, and on the lamb's fleece the girl, and on the girl's
back the peel, and at the end of the peel the woman. Just then the
priest was coming out from matins, and seeing what was going on began to
scold them, and bid them go home and not to be so foolish. As words were
of no avail, he hit the woman a sound whack on her back with his cane,
when to his surprise the cane stuck to the woman, and he to the end of
his cane. With this nice company the lad went on; and towards dark
reached the royal borough and took lodgings at the end of the town for
the night with an old woman. "What news is there?" said he. The old
woman told him they were in very great sorrow, for the king's daughter
was very ill, and that no physician could heal her, but that if she
could but be made to laugh she would be better at once; that no one had
as yet been able to make her smile; and moreover the king had issued
that very day a proclamation stating that whoever made her laugh should
have her for his wife, and share the royal power. The lad with the lamb
could scarcely wait till daylight, so anxious was he to try his fortune.
In the morning he presented himself to the king and stated his business
and was very graciously received. The daughter stood in the hall at the
front of the house; the lad then began to play the flute, the lamb to
dance, on the lamb's fleece the girl, on the girl's back the peel, at
the end of the peel the woman, on the woman's back the cane, and at the
end of the cane the priest. When the princess saw this sight she burst
out laughing, which made the lamb so glad that it shook everything off
its back, and the lamb, the girl, the woman, and the priest each danced
by themselves for joy.
The king married his daughter to the shepherd; the priest was made
court-chaplain; the woman court bakeress; and the girl lady-in-waiting
to the princess.
The wedding lasted from one Monday to the other Tuesday, and the whole
land was in great joy, and if the strings of the fiddle hadn't broken
they would have been dancing yet!
FISHER JOE.
There was once a poor man, who had nothing in the world but his wife and
an unhappy son Joe. His continual and his only care was how to keep
them: so he determined to go fishing, and thus to keep them from day to
day upon whatever the Lord brought to his net. Suddenly both the old
folks died and left the unhappy son by himself; he went behind the oven
and did not come out till both father and mother were buried; he sat
three days behind the oven, and then remembered that his father had kept
them by fishing; so he got up, took his net, and went fishing below the
weir: there he fished till the skin began to peel off the palms of his
hands, and never caught so much as one fish. At last he said, "I will
cast my net once more, and then I will never do so again." So he cast
his net for the last time and drew to shore a golden fish. While he was
going home he thought he would give it to the lord of the manor, so that
perhaps he might grant a day's wages for it. When he got home he took
down a plate from the rack, took the fish from his bag, and laid it upon
the plate; but the fish slipped off the plate and changed into a lovely
girl, who said, "I am thine, and you are mine, love." The moment after
she asked, "Joe, did your father leave you anything?" "We had
something," replied her husband; "but my father was poor and he sold
everything; but," continued he, "do you see that high mountain yonder?
it is not sold yet, for it is too steep and no one would have it." Then
said his wife, "Let's go for a walk and look over the mountain." So they
went all over it, length and breadth, from furrow to furrow. When they
came to a furrow in the middle his wife said, "Let us sit down on a
ridge, my love, and rest a little." They sat down, and Joe laid his head
on his wife's lap and fell asleep. She then slipped off her cloak, made
it into a pillow, drew herself away, and laid Joe upon the pillow
without waking him. She rose, went away, uncoiled a large whip and
cracked it. The crack was heard over seven times seven countries. In a
moment as many dragons as existed came forth. "What are your Majesty's
commands?" said they. "My commands are these," replied she: "you see
this place--build a palace here, finer than any that exists in the
world; and whatever is needed in it must be there: stables for eight
bullocks and the bullocks in them, with two men to tend them; stalls for
eight horses and the horses in them, and two grooms to tend them; six
stacks in the yard, and twelve threshers in the barn." She was greatly
delighted when she saw her order completed, and thanked God that He had
given her what He had promised. "I shall now go," said she, "and wake my
husband." When she came to him he was still asleep. "Get up, my love,"
said she, "look after the threshers, the grooms, the oxen, and see that
all do their work, and that all the work be done, and give your orders
to the labourers; and now, my love, let us go into the house and see
that all is right. You give your orders to the men-servants, and I will
give mine to the maids. We have now enough to live on;" and Joe thanked
God for His blessings. He then told his wife that he would invite the
lord of the manor to dine with him on Whit Sunday. "Don't leave me,"
replied his wife; "for if he catch sight of me you will lose me. I will
see that the table is laid and all is ready; but a maid shall wait on
you. I will retire into an inner room lest he should see me."
Joe ordered the carriage and six, seated himself in it, the coachman sat
on the box, and away they went to the lord's house; they arrived at the
gate, Joe got out, went through the gate, and saw three stonemasons at
work in the yard; he greeted them and they returned the greeting. "Just
look," remarked one of them, "what Joe has become and how miserable he
used to be!" He entered the castle, and went into the lord's room. "Good
day, my lord." "God bless you, Joe, what news?" "I have come to ask your
lordship to dine with me on Whit Sunday, and we shall be very pleased to
see you." "I will come, Joe;" they then said good-bye and parted. After
Joe had gone the lord came into the courtyard, and the three masons
asked him "What did Joe want?" "He has invited me to dine with him," was
the reply, "and I am going." "Of course; you must go," said one of
them, "that you may see what sort of a house he keeps."
The lord set out in his carriage and four, with the coachman in front,
and arrived at the palace. Joe ran out to meet him, they saluted each
other, and entered arm in arm. They dined, and all went well till the
lord asked, "Well, Joe, and where is your wife?" "She is busy," said
Joe. "But I should like to see her," explained the baron. "She is rather
shy when in men's society," said Joe. They enjoyed themselves, lighted
their pipes and went for a walk over the palace. Then said the baron to
his servant, "Order the carriage at once;" it arrived, and Joe and he
said "Farewell." As the baron went through the gate he looked back and
saw Joe's wife standing at one of the windows, and at once fell so
deeply in love with her that he became dangerously ill; when he arrived
at home the footmen were obliged to carry him from his carriage and lay
him in his bed.
At daybreak the three masons arrived and began to work. They waited for
their master. As he did not appear, "I will go and see what's the matter
with him," said one of them, "for he always came out at 8 a.m." So the
mason went in and saluted the baron, but got no reply. "You are ill, my
lord," said he. "I am," said the baron, "for Joe has such a pretty wife,
and if I can't get her I shall die." The mason went out and the three
consulted together as to what was best to be done. One of them proposed
a task for Joe, _i.e._ that a large stone column which stood before one
of the windows should be pulled down, the plot planted with vines, the
grapes to ripen over night, and the next morning a goblet of wine should
be made from their juice and be placed on the master's table; if this
was not done Joe was to lose his wife. So one of them went in to the
baron and told him of their plan, remarking that Joe could not do that,
and so he would lose his wife. A groom was sent on horseback for Joe,
who came at once, and asked what his lordship desired. The baron then
told him the task he had to propose and the penalty. Poor Joe was so
downcast that he left without even saying "good-bye," threw himself into
his carriage, and went home. "Well, my love," asked his wife, "what does
he want?" "Want," replied her husband, "he ordered me to pull down the
stone column in front of his window. Since my father was not a
working-man, how could I do any work? Nor is that all. I am to plant the
place with vines, the grapes have to ripen, and I am to make a goblet of
wine, to be placed on his table at daybreak; and if I fail I am to lose
you."
"Your smallest trouble ought to be greater than that," said his wife.
"Eat and drink, go to bed and have a good rest, and all will be well."
When night came she went out into the farmyard, uncoiled her whip, gave
a crack, which was heard over seven times seven countries, and
immediately all the dragons appeared. "What are your Majesty's
commands?" She then told them what her husband required, and in the
morning Joe had the goblet of wine, which he took on horseback lest he
should be late; he opened the baron's window, and, as nobody was there,
he placed the goblet on the table, closed the window, and returned home.
At daybreak the baron turned in his bed. The bright light reflected by
the goblet met his eyes, and had such an effect on him that he fell back
in his bed, and got worse and worse.
The three masons arrived and wondered why their master did not appear.
Said the tallest to the middle one, "I taught him something yesterday;
now you must teach him something else." "Well," said the middle one, "my
idea is this, that Joe shall build a silver bridge in front of the gate
during the night, plant both ends with all kinds of trees, and that the
trees be filled with all kinds of birds singing and twittering in the
morning. I'll warrant he won't do that, and so he will lose his wife."
When the baron came out they communicated their plan; he at once sent
for Joe and told him what he required. Joe went away without even
saying good-bye, he was so sad. When he got home he told his wife what
the baron wanted this time. "Don't trouble yourself, my love," said his
wife, "eat and drink and get a good rest, all shall be well." At night
she cracked her whip and ordered the dragons to do all that was
required, and so at daybreak all was done. The birds made such a noise
that the whole of the village was awakened by them. One nightingale
loudly and clearly to the baron sang, "Whatever God has given to some
one else that you must not covet; be satisfied with what has been given
to you." The baron awoke and turned over, and, hearing the loud singing
of the birds, rose and looked out of the window. The glare of the silver
bridge opposite the gate blinded him, and he fell back in bed and got
worse and worse. When the three masons arrived they could not enter, for
the splendour of the silver bridge dazzled them, and they were obliged
to enter by another gate.
As they were working, the shortest said to the middle one, "Go and see
why his lordship does not come out; perhaps he is worse." He went in and
found the baron worse than ever. Then said the shortest, "I thought of
something, my lord, which he will never be able to do, and so you will
get his wife." "What is that, mason?" demanded the baron. "It is this,
my lord," said the mason, "that he shall ask God to dinner on Palm
Sunday, and that he can't do, and so he will lose his wife." "If you can
get Joe's wife for me you shall have all this property," said the baron.
"It's ours, then," said they, "for he can't do that." Joe was sent for,
and came at once to know what was required of him. "My orders are
these," replied the baron, "that you invite God to dinner on Palm Sunday
to my house; if you do not your wife is lost." Poor Joe went out without
saying good-bye, jumped into his carriage, and returned home dreadfully
miserable. When his wife asked him what was the matter he told her of
the baron's commands. "Go on," said his wife; "bring me that foal, the
yearling, the most wretched one of all, put upon it an old saddle and
silver harness on its head, and then get on its back." He did so, said
good-bye, and the wretched yearling darted off at once straight to
heaven. By the time it arrived there it had become quite a beautiful
horse. When Joe reached the gates of Paradise he tied his horse to a
stake, knocked at the door, which opened, and he went in and greeted the
Almighty. St. Peter received him, and asked him why he had come. "I've
come," said he, "to invite God to dinner at my lord's on Palm Sunday."
"Tell him from me," said the deity, "that I will come, and tell him that
he is to sow a plot with barley, and that it will ripen, and that I will
eat bread made of it at dinner. That a cow is to be taken to the bull
to-day, and that I will eat the flesh of the calf for my dinner."
With this Joe took leave, and the foal flew downward. As they went Joe
was like to fall head-foremost off, and called upon the deity. St. Peter
told him not to fear, it was all right; he would fall on his feet. When
Joe arrived at home the barley was waving in the breeze and the cow was
in calf. "Well, wife," said he, "I will go to the baron's and give him
the message." So he went, knocked at the door, and entered the room.
"Don't come a step further," cried the baron. "I don't intend to," said
Joe: "I've come to tell you I have executed your commands, and mind you
don't blame me for what will happen. The deity has sent you this
message: you are to sow a plot with barley, and of it make bread for His
dinner. A cow is to go to the bull, and of the calf's flesh He will
eat." The baron became thoughtful. "Don't worry yourself, my lord," said
Joe, "you have worried me enough, it is your turn now;" and so he said
"good-bye," and went off home: when he got there the barley-bread was
baking and the veal was roasting.
At this moment the deity and St. Peter arrived from heaven and were on
their way to the baron's, who the moment he saw them called out to his
servant, "Lock the gate, and do not let them in." Then said the deity,
"Let us go back to the poor man's home, and have dinner there." When
they reached the foot of the mountain St. Peter was told to look back
and say what he saw, and lo! the whole of the baron's property was a
sheet of water. "Now," said the deity to St. Peter, "let us go on, for
the mountain is high, and difficult to ascend." When they arrived at
Joe's he rushed out with outspread arms, fell to the ground, and kissed
the sole of the deity's foot. He entered and sat down to dinner, so did
Joe and his wife and also St. Peter. Then said God to Joe, "Set a table
in this world for the poor and miserable, and you shall have one laid
for you in the world to come; and now good-bye: you shall live in joy,
and in each other's love."
They are living still if they have not died since. May they be your
guests to-morrow!
LUCK AND BLISS.
Luck and Bliss went out one day, and came to a town where they found a
poor man selling brooms, but nobody seemed to buy anything from him.
Bliss thereupon said, "Let us stop, and I will buy them all from the
poor fellow, so that he may make a good bargain." So they stopped, and
Bliss bought them all, and gave him six times the market value of them,
in order that the poor man might have a good start.
On another occasion they came to the same town and found the man still
selling brooms. Bliss bought them all, and gave him ten times their
market value. They came a third time to the town, and the man was still
selling brooms, whereupon Luck said, "Let me try now, for, see, you have
bought them all twice, and in vain, for the man is a poor broom-seller
still;" so Luck bought them, but she did not give a penny more than the
market price. They came to the town a fourth time and saw the man who
had sold brooms leading wheat into town in a wagon with iron hoops on
the wheels and drawn by four fine bullocks. When they saw this Luck said
to Bliss, "Do you see that man who used to sell brooms? You bought them
all twice for a very high price. I bought them but once, and that for
the market value, and the consequence of my having done so is that he no
longer sells brooms, as he used to do, but wheat, and it appears he must
have got on well with his farm too."
THE LAZY CAT.
A lad married a lazy rich girl, and he made a vow that he would never
beat her. The missis never did any work but went about from house to
house gossiping and making all kinds of mischief, but still her husband
never beat her. One morning as he was going out to his work he said to
the cat, "You cat, I command you to do everything that is needed in the
house. While I am away put everything in order, cook the dinner, and do
some spinning; if you don't, I'll give you such a thrashing as you won't
forget." The cat listened to his speech half asleep, blinking on the
hearth. The woman thought to herself, "My husband has gone mad." So she
said, "Why do you order the cat to do all these things, which she knows
nothing about?" "Whether she does or whether she doesn't it's all the
same to me, wife. I have no one else whom I can ask to do anything; and
if she does not do all that I have ordered her to do you will see that I
will give her such a thrashing as she will never forget." With this he
went out to work, and the wife began to talk to the cat and said, "You
had better get your work done, or he will beat you;" but the cat did not
work, and the wife went from house to house gossiping. When she came
home the cat was asleep on the hearth, and the fire had gone out; so she
said, "Make the fire up, cat, and get your work done, or you will get a
sound thrashing;" but the cat did no work. In the evening the master
came home and found that nothing was done and that his orders were not
carried out; so he took hold of the cat by its tail and fastened it to
his wife's back, and began to beat till his wife cried out, "Don't beat
that cat any more! Don't beat that cat any more! it is not her fault,
she cannot help it, she does not understand these things." "Will you
promise then that you will do it all in her stead?" inquired her
husband. "I will do it all and even more than you order," replied his
wife, "if you will only leave off beating that cat."
The woman then ran off home to complain to her mother of all these
things, and said, "I have promised that I will do all the work instead
of the cat, in order to prevent my husband beating her to death on my
back." And then her father spoke up and said, "If you have promised to
do it you must do it; if not, the cat will get a thrashing to-morrow."
And he sent her back to her husband.
Next time the master again ordered the cat what she had to do, and she
did nothing again. So she got another beating on the wife's back, who
ran home again to complain; but her father drove her back, and she ran
so fast that her foot did not touch the ground as she went.
On the third morning again the master commenced to give his commands to
the cat, who, however, was too frightened to listen, and did no work
that day; but this time the mistress did her work for her. She forgot no
one thing she had promised--she lighted the fire, fetched water, cooked
the food, swept the house, and put everything in order; for she was
frightened lest her husband should beat the poor cat again; for the
wretched animal in its agony stuck its claws into her back, and,
besides, the end of the two-tailed whip reached further than the cat's
back, so that with every stroke she received one as well as the cat.
When her husband came home everything was in order, and he kept
muttering, "Don't be afraid, cat, I won't thrash you this time;" and his
wife laid the cloth joyfully, dished up the food, and they had a good
meal in peace.
After that the cat had no more beatings, and the mistress became such a
good housewife that you could not wish for a better.
HANDSOME PAUL.
There was once, over seven times seven countries, a poor woman who had a
son, and he decided to go into service. So he said to his mother,
"Mother, fill my bag and let me go out to work, for that will do me more
good than staying here and wasting my time." The lad's name was Paul.
His mother filled his bag for him, and he started off. As it became dark
he reached a wood, and in the distance he saw, as it were, a spark
glimmering amongst the trees, so he made his way in that direction
thinking that he might find some one there, and that he would be able to
get a night's lodging. So he walked and walked for a long time, and the
nearer he came the larger the light became. By midnight he reached the
place where the fire was, and lo! there was a great ugly giant sleeping
by the fire. "Good evening, my father," said Paul. "God has brought you,
my son," replied the giant; "you may think yourself lucky that you
called me father, for if you had not done so I would have swallowed you
whole. And now what is your errand?"
"I started from home," said Paul, "to find work, and good fortune
brought me this way. My father, permit me to sleep to-night by your
fire, for I am alone and don't know my way." "With pleasure, my son,"
said the giant. So Paul sat down and had his supper, and then they both
fell asleep. Next morning the giant asked him where he intended to go in
search of work. "If I could," replied Paul, "I should like to enter the
king's service, for I have heard he pays his servants justly." "Alas! my
son," said the giant, "the king lives far away from here. Your
provisions would fail twice before you reached there, but we can manage
the matter if you will sit on my shoulder and catch hold of the hair on
the back of my head." Paul took his seat on the giant's shoulders. "Shut
your eyes," said the giant, "because if you don't you will turn giddy."
Paul shut his eyes, and the giant started off, stepping from mountain to
mountain, till noon, when he stopped and said to Paul, "Open your eyes
now and tell me what you can see."
Paul looked around as far as he could see, and said, "I see at an
infinite distance something white, as big as a star. What is it, my
father?" "That is the king's citadel," said the giant, and then they sat
down and had dinner. The giant's bag was made of nine buffalo's skins,
and in it were ten loaves (each loaf being made of four bushels of
wheat), and ten large bottles full of good Hungarian wine. The giant
consumed two bottles of wine and two loaves for his dinner, and gave
Paul what he needed. After a short nap the giant took Paul upon his
shoulders, bade him shut his eyes, and started off again, stepping from
mountain to mountain. At three o'clock he said to Paul, "Open your eyes,
and tell me what you can see." "I can see the white shining thing
still," said Paul, "but now it looks like a building." "Well, then, shut
your eyes again," said the giant, and he walked for another hour, and
then again asked Paul to look. Paul now saw a splendid glittering
fortress, such a one as he had never seen before, not even in his
dreams. "In another quarter-of-an-hour we shall be there," said the
giant. Paul shut his eyes again, and in fifteen minutes they were there;
and the giant put him down in front of the gate of the king's palace,
saying, "Well, now, I will leave you here, for I have a pressing
engagement, and must get back, but whatsoever service they offer to you,
take it, behave well, and the Lord keep you." Paul thanked him for his
kindness and his good-will, and the giant left. As Paul was a fine
handsome fellow he was engaged at once, for the first three months to
tend the turkeys, as there was no other vacancy, but even during this
time he was employed on other work: and he behaved so well, that at the
end of the time he was promoted to wait at the king's table. When he was
dressed in his new suit he looked like a splendid flower. The king had
three daughters; the youngest was more beautiful than the rose or the
lily, and this young lady fell in love with Paul, which Paul very soon
noticed; and day by day his courage grew, and he approached her more and
more, till they got very fond of each other.
The queen with her serpent's eye soon discovered the state of affairs,
and told the king of it.
"It's all right," said the king, "I'll soon settle the wretched fellow;
only leave it to me, my wife."
Poor Paul, what awaits thee?
The king then sent for Paul and said, "Look here, you good-for-nothing,
I can see you are a smart fellow! Now listen to me: I order you to cut
down during the night the whole wood that is in front of my window, to
cart it home, chop it up, and stack it in proper order in my courtyard;
if you don't I shall have your head chopped off in the morning." Paul
was so frightened when he heard this that he turned white and said, "Oh,
my king! no man could do this." "What!" said the king, "you
good-for-nothing, you dare to contradict me? go to prison at once!" Paul
was at once taken away, and the king repeated his commands, saying that
unless they were obeyed Paul should lose his head. Poor Paul was very
sad, and wept like a baby; but the youngest princess stepped into his
prison through a secret trap-door, and consoled him, giving him a copper
whip, and telling him to go and stand outside the gate on the top of the
hill, and crack it three times, when all the devils would appear. He was
then to give his orders, which the devils would carry out.
Paul went off through the trap, and the princess remained in prison till
Paul returned; he went out, stood on the hill, and cracked his whip well
thrice, and lo! the devils came running to him from all sides, crying,
"What are your commands handsome Paul?" "I order you," replied Paul, "by
to-morrow morning to have all that large forest cut down, chopped, and
stacked in the king's courtyard;" with this he went back to prison and
spent a little time with the princess before she went away. The devils
entered the wood, and began to hew the trees down; there was a roaring,
clattering, and cracking noise as the big trees were dragged by root and
crown into the king's yard; they were chopped up and stacked; and the
devils, having finished the task, ran back to hell. By one o'clock all
was done.
In the morning the first thing the king did was to look through the
window in the direction of the wood; he could not see anything but bare
land, and when he looked into the courtyard he saw there all the wood
chopped and stacked.
He then called Paul from prison and said, "Well, I can see that you know
something, my lad, and I now order you to plough up to-night the place
where the wood used to be, and sow it with millet. The millet must grow,
ripen, be reaped, threshed, and ground into flour by the morning, and of
it you must make me a large millet-cake, else you lose your head." Paul
was then sent back to prison, more miserable than ever, for how could he
do such an unheard-of thing as that? His sweetheart came in again
through the trap-door and found him weeping bitterly. When she heard the
cause of his grief she said, "Oh, don't worry yourself, dear; here is a
golden whip, go and crack it three times on the hill-top, and all the
devils will come that came last night; crack it again three times and
all the female devils will arrive; crack it another three times and even
the lame ones will appear, and those enceinte come creeping forth. Tell
them what you want and they will do it."
Paul went out and stood on the hill-top, and cracked his whip three good
cracks, and then three more, and three more, such loud cracks that his
ears rung, and again the devils came swarming in all directions like
ants, old ones and young ones, males and females, lame and enceinte,
such a crowd that he could not see them all without turning his head all
round. They pressed him hard, saying, "What are your commands, handsome
Paul? What are your commands, handsome Paul? If you order us to pluck
all the stars from heaven and to place them in your hands it shall be
done."
Paul gave his orders and went back to prison, and stayed with the
princess till daybreak.
There was a sight on the hill-side, the devils were shouting and making
such a din that you could not tell one word from another. "Now then!
Come here! This way, Michael! That way, Jack! Pull it this way! Turn it
that way! Go at it! See, the work is done!"
The whole place was soon ploughed up, the millet sown, and it began to
sprout, it grew, ripened, was cut, carted in wagons, in barrows, on
their backs, or as best they could. It was thrashed with iron flails,
carried to the mill, crushed and bolted, a light was put to the timber
in the yard, it took fire, and the wood crackled everywhere, and there
was such a light that the king in the seventh country off could see to
count his money by it. Then they brought from hell the biggest cauldron
they could find, put it on the fire, put flour into it and boiling
water; as the millet-cake was bubbling and boiling they took it out of
the pot and put it into Mrs. Pluto's lap, placed a huge spoon into her
hands, and she began to stir away, mix it up, and cut it up with her
quick hands till it began to curl up at the side of the cauldron after
the spoon. As it was quite done she mixed it well once more, and being
out of breath handed the spoon to Pluto himself--who was superintending
the whole work,--who took out his pocket-knife--which was red-hot--and
began to scrape the cake off the spoon and to eat it with great gusto.
Mrs. Pluto then took the cake out with a huge wooden spoon, heaped it up
nicely, patted it all round, and put it on the fire once more; when it
was quite baked she turned it out a large millet-cake in the midst of
the yard, and then they all rushed back, as fast as they could run, to
hell.
Next morning, when the king looked through the window, an immense
millet-cake was to be seen there, so large that it nearly filled the
whole yard; and he, however vexed he was, could not help bursting out
into a loud laugh. He gave instant orders for the whole town to come and
clear away the millet-cake, and not to leave so much as a mouthful.
Never was such a feast seen before, and I don't think ever will be
again: some carried it away in their hands, some in bags, some in large
table-cloths, sacks, and even in wagons; everybody took some, and it
went in all directions in every possible manner, so that in three hours
the huge cake was all gone; even the part that had stuck to the ground
was scraped up and carried away. Some made tarts of it at home, pounded
poppy-seed, and spread it over them; others wanted pork to eat with it,
others ate it with fresh milk, with dried prunes, with perry, with
craps, with cream-milk, sour-milk, cow's-milk, goat's-milk; some with
curds; others covered it over with cream-cheese, rolled it up and ate it
thus; better houses mixed it with good buffalo-milk, and ate it with
butter, lard, and cream-cheese, so that it was no longer millet-cake
with cream-cheese, but cream-cheese with millet-cake! There were many
who had never eaten anything like it before, and they got so full of it
they could just breathe; even the king had a large piece served up for
his breakfast on a porcelain plate; he then went to the larder for a
large tub, which was full of the best cream-cheese of Csik like unto the
finest butter; he took a large piece of this, spread it on his cake, set
to and ate it to the very last. He then drank three tumblerfuls of the
best old claret, and said, "Well, that really was a breakfast fit for
the gods!" And thus it happened that all the millet-cake was used up,
and then the king sent for Paul and said to him, "Well, you brat of a
devil, did you do all this, or who did it?" "I don't know." "Well, there
are in my stables a bay stallion, a bay mare, two grey fillies and a bay
filly, you must walk them about, in turn, to-morrow morning, till they
are tired out; if you don't I'll have your head impaled." Paul wasn't a
bit frightened this time, but began to whistle, and hum tunes to himself
in the prison, being in capital spirits. "It will be very easy to walk
these horses out," said he; "it's not the first time I've done that."
The matter looked different however in the evening when his sweetheart
came and he told her all about it. "My love," said she, "this is even
worse than all the rest, because the devils did all your former tasks
for you, but this you must do yourself. Moreover, you must know that the
bay stallion will be my father, the bay mare my mother, the two grey
foals my elder sisters, and the bay foal myself. However, we shall find
some way of doing even this. When you enter the stable we all will begin
to kick so terribly that you won't be able to get near us; but you must
try to get hold of the iron pole that stands inside the door, and with
it thrash them all till they are tame; then you must lead them out as
well as you can; but don't beat me, for I shall not desert you." His
love then gave him a copper bridle, which he hid in his bosom, and
buttoned his coat over it. And his lady-love went back to her bedroom;
for she knew there was plenty of hard work in store for her on the
morrow; for the same reason she ordered Paul to try to sleep well.
In the morning the jailer came, and brought two warders with him, and
led Paul to the stable to take the horses out for a walk. Even in the
distance he could hear the snorting, kicking, pawing, and neighing in
the stable, so that it filled the air. He tried in vain to get inside
the stable-door, he had not courage enough to take even one step inside.
Somehow or other, however, he got hold of the iron pole, and with it he
beat, pounded, and whacked the bay stallion till it lay down in agony.
He then took out his bridle, threw it over its head, led it out, jumped
upon its back, and rode it about till the foam streamed from it, and
then led it in and tied it up. He did the same with the bay mare, only
she was worse; and the grey foals were worse still, till by the end he
was nearly worn out with beating them. At last he came to the bay foal,
but he would not have touched her for all the treasure of the world;
yet, in order to deceive the others, he banged the crib, box, manger,
and posts right lustily, till at last the bay foal lay down. With this
the mare, who was the queen, said to the bay stallion, "You see it was
that bay foal who was the cause of all this. But wait a bit, confound
her!" she cried after them as he led her out of the stable; "I also have
as many wits as you, and I will teach you both a lesson. Never mind, my
sweet daughter, you have treated us all most cruelly with that iron
pole, but you shall pay for it shortly." When Paul heard this he was so
frightened he could hardly lead the foal. "Don't be afraid," said the
foal, "let's get away from here, and the sooner the better, never to
return, or woe betide us!" They cantered up to the house, where she sent
him in to get money, and jewellery, and the various things they would
need, and then galloped off as fast as she could with Paul on her back,
over seven times seven countries, till noon; and just as the sun was at
noon the foal said to Paul, "Look back; what can you see?" Paul looked
back and saw in the distance an eagle flying towards them, from whose
mouth shot forth a flame seven fathoms long. Then said the foal, "I will
turn a somersault, and become a sprouting millet-field; you do the same,
you will become the garde champêtre, and when the eagle, which is my
father, comes, if he ask you if you have seen such and such travellers,
tell him, yes, you saw them pass when this millet was sown." So the foal
turned over and became a sprouting millet-field, and Paul became the
garde champêtre. The eagle arrived, and said, "My lad, have you not seen
a young fellow on a bay foal pass this way in a great hurry?" "Well,
yes," replied Paul, "I saw them at the time this millet was sown, but I
can't tell you where they may be now." "I don't think they can have come
this way," said the eagle, and flew back home and told his wife all
about it. "Oh! you baulked fool!" cried she, "the millet-field was your
daughter, and the lad Paul. So back you go at once, and bring them
home."
Paul and his foal rode on half the afternoon, and then the foal said,
"Look back, what can you see?" "I see the eagle again," said Paul, "but
now the flame is twice seven fathoms long; he flies very quickly."
"Let's turn over again," said the foal, "and I will become a lamb and
you will be the shepherd, and if my father ask you if you have seen the
travellers say yes, you saw them when the lamb was born." So they turned
over, and one became a lamb and the other a shepherd; the eagle arrived
and asked the shepherd if he had seen the travellers pass by, and was
told that they were seen when the lamb was born. The king returned and
told his wife all, who drove him back, crying, "The lamb was your
daughter and the shepherd, Paul, you empty-headed fool." Paul and the
foal went on a long way, when the foal said, "What can you see?" He saw
the eagle again, but now it was enveloped in flames; they turned over
and the foal became a chapel, and Paul a hermit inside; the eagle
arrived and inquired after the travellers, and was told by the hermit
that they had passed by when the chapel was building. The eagle went
back a third time, and his wife was in an awful rage and told him to
stay where he was, telling him that the chapel was his daughter and the
hermit Paul. "But you are so dense," said she, "they can make you
believe anything; I will go myself and see whether they will fool me."
The queen started off as a falcon. Paul and the foal went still
travelling on, when the foal said, "Look back, what can you see?" "I see
a falcon," said Paul, "With a flame seventy-seven yards long coming out
of its mouth." "That's my mother," said the foal, "We must be careful
this time, Paul, for we shall not be able to hoodwink her with lies; let
us turn over quickly, she will be here in a second. I will be a lake of
milk and you a golden duck on it; take care she doesn't catch you, or we
are done for." They turned over and changed; the falcon arrived and
swooped down upon the duck like lightning, who had just time to dive and
escape. The falcon tried again and again till it got quite tired; for
each time the duck dived and so she missed him. In a great rage the
falcon turned over and became the queen. She picked up stones and tried
to strike the duck dead, but he was clever enough to dodge her, so she
soon got tired of that and said, "I can see, you beast, that I cannot do
anything with you; my other two daughters died before my eyes to-day
from the beating you gave them with the iron pole, you murderer. Now I
curse you with this curse, that you will forget each other, and never
remember that you have ever known each other."
With this she turned over, became a falcon, and flew away home very sad,
and the other two changed also, this time into Paul and the princess.
"Nobody will persecute us now," said she, "let us travel on quietly. The
death of my two sisters is no sad or bad news to me, for now when my
father and mother are dead the land will be ours, my dear Paul;" so they
wandered on, and talked over their affairs, till they came to a house;
and as the day was closing they felt very tired and sat down to rest and
fell asleep. After sunset they awoke and stared at each other, but
couldn't make out who the other was, for they had forgotten all the
past, and inquired in astonishment "Who are you?" and "Well, who are
you?" But neither could tell who the other was; so they walked into the
town as strangers and separated. Paul got a situation as valet to a
nobleman, and the princess became a lady's maid in another part of the
city. They lived there for twelve months, and never once remembered
anything that had happened in the past. One night Paul dreamt that the
bay stallion was in its last agony, and soon afterwards died; the lady's
maid, at the same time, dreamt that the bay mare was dying, and died; by
this dream they both remembered all that had happened to each other; but
even then they did not know that they were in the same town. On the day
following this dream Paul was sent by the nobleman's son secretly with a
love-letter to the nobleman's youngest daughter where the lady's maid
lived. Paul took the letter, and handed it to the lady's maid so that
she might place it in her mistress's hands; then he saw who the lady's
maid was, that it was his old sweetheart, the beloved of his soul; now
he remembered how often before he had given her letters from his young
master for the young lady of the house, and how he had done a little
love-making on his own account, but never till now had he recognised
her. The princess recognised Paul at a glance and rushed into his arms
and wept for joy. They told each other their dreams, and knew that her
father and mother--the bay mare and bay stallion of yore--died last
night. "Let us be off," said the princess, "or else the kingdom will be
snatched from us." So they agreed, and fixed the day after the morrow
for the start. Next morning the official crier proclaimed that the king
and queen had died suddenly about midnight; it happened at the very
moment they had had their dreams.
They started secretly by the same road, and arrived at home in a day.
The king and queen were still laid in state, and the princess, who was
thought to be lost, shed tears over them.
She was soon afterwards crowned queen of the realm, and chose Paul for
her consort, and got married; if they have not died since they are still
alive, and in great happiness to this day.
THE TRAVELS OF TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD.
A long time ago--I don't exactly remember the day--Truth started, with
her bag well filled, on a journey to see the world. On she went over
hill and dale, and through village and town, till one day she met
Falsehood. "Good day, countrywoman," said Truth; "where are you bound
for? Where do you intend going?" "I'm going to travel all over the
world," said Falsehood. "That's right," said Truth; "and as I'm bound in
the same direction let's travel together." "All right," replied
Falsehood; "but you know that fellow-travellers must live in harmony, so
let's divide our provisions and finish yours first." Truth handed over
her provisions, upon which the two lived till every morsel was consumed;
then it was Falsehood's turn to provide. "Let me gouge out one of your
eyes," said Falsehood to Truth, "and then I'll let you have some food."
Poor Truth couldn't help herself; for she was very hungry and didn't
know what to do. So she had one of her eyes gouged out, and she got some
food. Next time she wanted food she had the other eye gouged out, and
then both her arms cut off. After all this Falsehood told her to go
away. Truth implored not to be left thus helpless in the wilds, and
asked that she might be taken to the gate of the next town and left
there to get her living by begging. Falsehood led her, not to where she
wanted to go, but near a pair of gallows and left her there. Truth was
very much surprised that she heard no one pass, and thought that all the
folks in that town must be dead. As she was thus reasoning with herself
and trembling with fear she fell asleep. When she awoke she heard some
people talking above her head, and soon discovered that they were
devils. The eldest of them said to the rest, "Tell me what you have
heard and what you have been doing." One said, "I have to-day killed a
learned physician, who has discovered a medicine with which he cured all
crippled, maimed, or blind." "Well, you're a smart fellow!" said the old
devil; "what may the medicine be?" "It consists simply of this," replied
the other, "that to-night is Friday night, and there will be a new moon:
the cripples have to roll about and the blind to wash their eyes in the
dew that has fallen during the night; the cripples will be healed of
their infirmities and the blind will see." "That is very good," said the
old devil. "And now what have you done, and what do you know?" he asked
the others.
"I," said another, "have just finished a little job of mine; I have cut
off the water-supply and will thus kill the whole of the population of
the country-town not far from here." "What is your secret?" asked the
old devil. "It is this," replied he; "I have placed a stone on the
spring which is situated at the eastern corner of the town at a depth of
three fathoms. By this means the spring will be blocked up, and not one
drop of water will flow; as for me I can go everywhere without fear,
because no one will ever find out my secret, and all will happen just as
I planned it."
The poor crippled Truth listened attentively to all these things.
Several other devils spoke; but poor Truth either did not understand
them or did not listen to what they said, as it did not concern her.
Having finished all, the devils disappeared as the cock crew announcing
the break of day.
Truth thought she would try the remedies she had heard, and at night
rolled about on the dewy ground, when to her great relief her arms grew
again. Wishing to be completely cured, she groped about and plucked
every weed she could find, and rubbed the dew into the cavities of her
eyes. As day broke she saw light once more. She then gave hearty thanks
to the God of Truth that he had not left her, his faithful follower, to
perish. Being hungry she set off in search of food. So she hurried off
to the nearest town, not only for food, but also because she remembered
what she had heard the devils say about cutting off the water supply.
She hurried on, so as not to be longer than she could help in giving
them her aid in their distress. She soon got there, and found every one
in mourning. Off she went straight to the king, and told him all she
knew; he was delighted when he was told that the thirst of the people
might be quenched. She also told the king how she had been maimed and
blinded, and the king believed all she said. They commenced at once with
great energy to dig up the stone that blocked the spring. The work was
soon done; the stone reached, lifted out, and the spring flowed once
more. The king was full of joy and so was the whole town, and there were
great festivities and a general holiday was held. The king would not
allow Truth to leave, but gave her all she needed, and treated her as
his most confidential friend, placing her in a position of great wealth
and happiness. In the meantime Falsehood's provisions came to an end,
and she was obliged to beg for food. As only very few houses gave her
anything she was almost starving when she met her old travelling
companion again. She cried to Truth for a piece of bread. "Yes, you can
have it," said Truth, "but you must have an eye gouged out;" and
Falsehood was in such a fix that she had either to submit or starve.
Then the other eye was taken out, and after that her arms were cut off,
in exchange for dry crusts of bread. Nor could she help it, for no one
else would give her anything.
Having lost her eyes and her arms she asked Truth to lead her under the
same gallows as she had been led to. At night the devils came; and, as
the eldest began questioning the others as to what they had been doing
and what they knew, one of them proposed that search be made, just to
see whether there were any listeners to their conversation, as some one
must have been eaves-dropping the other night, else it would never have
been found out how the springs of the town were plugged up. To this they
all agreed, and search was made; and soon they found Falsehood, whom
they instantly tore to pieces, coiled up her bowels into knots, burnt
her, and dispersed her ashes to the winds. But even her dust was so
malignant that it was carried all over the world; and that is the reason
that wherever men exist there Falsehood must be.
THE HUNTING PRINCES.
Once there was a king whose only thought and only pleasure was hunting;
he brought up his sons to the same ideas, and so they were called the
Hunting Princes. They had hunted all over the six snow-capped mountains
in their father's realm; there was a seventh, however, called the Black
Mountain, and, although they were continually asking their father to
allow them to hunt there, he would not give them permission. In the
course of time the king died, and his sons could scarcely wait till the
end of the funeral ceremonies before they rushed off to hunt in the
Black Mountain, leaving the government in the hands of an old duke. They
wandered about several days on the mountain, but could not find so much
as a single bird, so they decided to separate, and that each of them
should go to one of the three great clefts in the mountain, thinking
that perhaps luck would serve them better in this way. They also agreed
that whoever shot an arrow uselessly should be slapped in the face. They
started off, each on his way. Suddenly the youngest one saw a raven and
something shining in its beak, that, he thought, was in all probability
a rich jewel. He shot, and a piece of steel fell from the raven's beak,
while the bird flew away unhurt. The twang of the bow was heard all over
the mountain, and the two elder brothers came forward to see what he had
done; when they saw that he had shot uselessly they slapped his face and
went back to their places. When they had gone the youngest suddenly saw
a falcon sitting on the top of the rock. This he thought was of value,
so he shot, but the arrow stuck in a piece of pointed rock which
projected under the falcon's feet, and the bird flew away; as it flew a
piece of rock fell to the ground which he discovered to be real flint.
His elder brothers came, and slapped his face for again shooting in so
foolish a manner. No sooner had they gone and the day was drawing to an
end than he discovered a squirrel just as it was running into its hole
in a tree; so he thought its flesh would be good to eat; he shot, but
the squirrel escaped into a hollow of the tree, and the arrow struck
what appeared to be a large fungus, knocking a piece off, which he found
to be a fine piece of tinder. The elder brothers came and gave him a
sound thrashing which he took very quietly, and after this they did not
separate. As it was getting dark and they were wandering on together a
fine roebuck darted across their path; all three shot, and it fell. On
they went till they came to a beautiful meadow by the side of a spring,
where they found a copper trough all ready for them. They sat down,
skinned and washed the roebuck, got all ready for a good supper, but
they had no fire. "You slapped my face three times because I was wasting
my arrows," said the youngest; "if you will allow me to return those
slaps I will make you a good fire." The elder brothers consented, but
the younger waived his claim and said to them, "You see, when you don't
need a thing you think it valueless; see now, the steel, flint, and
tinder you despised will make us the fire you need." With that he made
the fire. They spitted a large piece of venison and had an excellent
huntsman's supper. After supper they held a consultation as to who was
to be the guard, as they had decided not to sleep without a guard. It
was arranged that they should take the duty in turns, and that death was
to be the punishment of any negligence of duty. The first night the
elder brother watched and the two youngest slept. All passed well till
midnight, when all at once in the direction of the town of the Black
Sorrow, which lay behind the Black Mountain, a dragon came with three
heads, a flame three yards long protruding from its mouth. The dragon
lived in the Black Lake, which lay beyond the town of the Black Sorrow,
with two of his brothers, one with five heads and the other with seven,
and they were sworn enemies to the town of the Black Sorrow. These
dragons always used to come to this spring to drink at midnight, and for
that reason no man or beast could walk there, because whatever the
dragons found there they slew. As soon as the dragon caught sight of the
princes he rushed at them to devour them, but he who was keeping guard
stood up against him and slew him, and dragged his body into a copse
near. The blood streamed forth in such torrents that it put the fire
out, all save a single spark, which the guarding prince fanned up, and
by the next morning there was a fire such as it did one good to see.
They hunted all day, returning at night, when the middle prince was
guard. At midnight the dragon with the five heads came; the prince slew
him, and his blood as it rushed out put the fire entirely out save one
tiny spark, which the prince managed to fan into a good fire by the
morning.
On the third night the youngest prince had to wrestle with the dragon
with seven heads. He vanquished it and killed it. This time there was so
much blood that the fire was completely extinguished. When he was about
to relight it he found that he had lost his flint. What was to be done?
He began to look about him, and see if he could find any means of
relighting the fire. He climbed up into a very high tree, and from it he
saw in a country three days' journey off, on a hill, a fire of some sort
glimmering: so off he went; and as he was going he met Midnight, who
tried to pass him unseen; but the prince saw him, and cried out, "Here!
stop; wait for me on this spot till I return." But Midnight would not
stop; so the prince caught him, and fastened him with a stout strap to a
thick oak-tree, remarking, "Now, I know you will wait for me!" He went
on some four or five hours longer, when he met Dawn: he asked him, too,
to wait for him, and as he would not he tied him to a tree like
Midnight, and went further and further. Time did not go on, for it was
stopped. At last he arrived at the fire, and found there were
twenty-four robbers round a huge wood fire roasting a bullock. But he
was afraid to go near, so he stuck a piece of tinder on the end of his
arrow, and shot it through the flames. Fortunately the tinder caught
fire, but as he went to look for it the dry leaves crackled under his
feet, and the robbers seized him. Some of the robbers belonged to his
father's kingdom, and, as they had a grudge against the father, they
decided to kill the prince. One said, "Let's roast him on a spit";
another proposed to dig a hole and bury him; but the chief of the
robbers said, "Don't let us kill the lad, let's take him with us as he
may be very useful to us. You all know that we are about to kidnap the
daughter of the king of the town of the Black Sorrow, and we intend to
sack his palace, but we have no means of getting at the iron cock at the
top of the spire because when we go near it begins at once to crow, and
the watchman sees us; let us take this lad with us, and let him shoot
off the iron cock, for we all know what a capital marksman he is; and
if he succeeds we will let him go." To this the robbers kindly
consented, as they saw they would by this means gain more than if they
killed him. So they started off, taking the prince with them, till they
came close to the fortress guarding the town of the Black Sorrow. They
then sent the prince in advance that he might shoot off the iron cock;
this he did. Then said the chief of the robbers, "Let's help him up to
the battlements, and then he will pull us up, let us down on the other
side, and keep guard for us while we are at work, and he shall have part
of the spoil, and then we will let him go." But the dog-soul of the
chief was false, for his plan was, that, having finished all, he would
hand the prince over to the robbers. This the prince had discovered from
some whisperings he had heard among them. He soon found a way out of the
difficulty. As he was letting them down one by one, he cut off their
heads, and sent them headless into the fortress, together with their
chief. Finding himself all alone, and no one to fear, he went to the
king's palace: in the first apartment he found the king asleep; in the
second the queen; in the third the three princesses. At the head of each
one there was a candle burning; that the prince moved in each case to
their feet, and none of them noticed him, except the youngest princess,
who awoke, and was greatly frightened at finding a man in her bedroom;
but when the prince told her who he was, and what he had done, she got
up, dressed, and took the young prince into a side-chamber and gave him
plenty to eat and drink, treated him kindly, and accepted him as her
lover, and gave him a ring and a handkerchief as a sign of their
betrothal. The prince then took leave of his love, and went to where the
robbers lay, cut off the tips of their noses and ears, and bound them up
in the handkerchief, left the fortress, got the fire, released Midnight
and Dawn, arrived at their resting-place, made a good fire by morning,
so that all the blood was dried up.
At daybreak in the town of the Black Sorrow, Knight Red, as he was
inspecting the sentries, came across the headless robbers. As soon as he
saw them he cut bits off their mutilated noses and ears, and started for
the town, walking up and down, and telling everybody with great pride
what a hero he was, and how that last night he had killed the
twenty-four robbers who for such a length of time had been the terror of
the town of the Black Sorrow. His valour soon came to the ears of the
king, who ordered the Red Knight to appear before him: here he boasted
of his valour, and produced his handkerchief and the pieces cut from the
robbers. The king believed all that he said, and was so overjoyed at the
good news that he gave him permission to choose which of the princesses
he pleased for his wife, adding that he would also give him a share of
the kingdom. The Red Knight, however, made a mistake, for he chose the
youngest daughter, who knew all about the whole affair, and was already
engaged to the youngest prince. The king told his daughter he was going
to give her as a wife.
To this she said, "Very well, father, but to whomsoever you intend to
give me he must be a worthy man, and he must give proofs that he has
rendered great service to our town." To this the king replied, "Who
could be able or who has been able to render greater services to the
town than this man, who has killed the twenty-four robbers?" The girl
answered, "You are right, father; whoever did that I will be his wife."
"Well done, my daughter, you are quite right in carrying out my wish;
prepare for your marriage, because I have found the man who saved our
town from this great danger." The young girl began to get ready with
great joy, for she knew nothing of the doings of the Red Knight, and
only saw what was going to happen when all was ready, the altar-table
laid, and the priest called, when lo! in walked the Red Knight as her
bridegroom, a man whom she had always detested, so that she could not
bear even to look at him. She rushed out and ran to her room, where she
fell weeping on her pillow. Everyone was there, and all was ready, but
she would not come; her father went in search of her, and she told him
how she had met the youngest of the Hunting Princes the night before,
and requested her father to send a royal messenger into the deserted
meadow, where the dragons of the Black Lake went to drink at the copper
trough, and to invite to the wedding the three princes who were staying
there; and asked her father not to press her to marry the Red Knight
till their arrival; on such conditions she would go among the guests.
Her father promised this, and sent the messenger in great haste to the
copper trough, and the young girl went among the guests. The feast was
going on in as sumptuous a manner as possible. The messenger came to the
copper trough, and hid himself behind a bush at the skirts of an open
place, and as he listened to the conversation of the princes he knew
that he had come to the right place; he hastened to give them the
invitation from the king of the town of the Black Sorrow to the wedding
of his youngest daughter.
The princes soon got ready, especially the youngest one, who, when he
heard that his fiancée was to be married, would have been there in the
twinkling of an eye if he had been able. When the princes arrived in the
courtyard the twelve pillows under the Red Knight began to move, as he
sat on them at the head of the table. When the youngest prince stepped
upon the first step of the stairs, one pillow slipped out from under the
Red Knight, and as he mounted each step another pillow fled, till as
they crossed the threshold even the chair upon which he sat fell, and
down dropped the Red Knight upon the floor.
The youngest Hunting Prince told them the whole story, how his elder
brothers had slain the dragons with three and five heads, and he the one
with seven heads; he also told them especially all about the robbers,
and how he met the king's daughter, how he had walked through all their
bedrooms and changed the candles from their head to their feet; he also
produced the ring and the handkerchief, and placed upon the table the
nose and ear-tips he had cut off the robbers.
They tallied with those the Red Knight had shown, and it was apparent to
everybody which had been cut off first.
Everyone believed the prince and saw that the Red Knight was false. For
his trickery he was sentenced to be tied to a horse's tail and dragged
through the streets of the whole town, then quartered and nailed to the
four corners of the town.
The three Hunting Princes married the three daughters of the king of the
town of the Black Sorrow. The youngest prince married the youngest
princess, to whom he was engaged before, and he became the heir-apparent
in the town of Black Sorrow, and the other two divided their father's
realm.
May they be your guests to-morrow!
THE LAZY SPINNING-GIRL WHO BECAME A QUEEN.
A common woman had a daughter who was a very good worker, but she did
not like spinning; for this her mother very often scolded her, and one
day got so vexed that she chased her down the road with the distaff. As
they were running a prince passed by in his carriage. As the girl was
very pretty the prince was very much struck with her, and asked her
mother "What is the matter?" "How can I help it?" said the mother, "for,
after she has spun everything that I had, she asked for more flax to
spin." "Let her alone, my good woman," said the prince; "don't beat her.
Give her to me, let me take her with me, I will give her plenty to
spin. My mother has plenty of work that needs to be done, so she can
enjoy herself spinning as much as she likes." The woman gave her
daughter away with the greatest pleasure, thinking that what she was
unwilling to do at home she might be ashamed to shirk in a strange
place, and get used to it, and perhaps even become a good spinster after
all. The prince took the girl with him and put her into a large shed
full of flax, and said "If you spin all you find here during the month
you shall be my wife." The girl seeing the great place full of flax
nearly had a fit, as there was enough to have employed all the girls in
the village for the whole of the winter; nor did she begin to work, but
sat down and fretted over it, and thus three weeks of the month passed
by. In the meantime she always asked the person who took her her food,
"What news there was?" Each one told her something or other. At the end
of the third week one night, as she was terribly downcast, suddenly a
little man half an ell long, with a beard one and a-half ells long,
slipped in and said, "Why are you worrying yourself, you good, pretty
spinning-girl?" "That's just what's the matter with me," replied the
girl; "I am not a good spinster, and still they will believe that I am a
good spinster, and that's the reason why I am locked up here." "Don't
trouble about that," said the little man; "I can help you and will spin
all the flax during the next week if you agree to my proposal and
promise to come with me if you don't find out my name by the time that I
finish my spinning." "That's all right," said the girl, "I will go with
you," thinking that then the matter would be all right. The little dwarf
set to work. It happened during the fourth week that one of the
men-servants, who brought the girl's food, went out hunting with the
prince. One day he was out rather late, and so was very late when he
brought the food. The girl said, "What's the news?" The servant told her
that that evening as he was coming home very late he saw, in the forest,
in a dark ditch, a little man half an ell high, with a beard one and
a-half ells long, who was jumping from bough to bough, and spinning a
thread, and humming to himself:--"My name is Dancing Vargaluska. My
wife will be good spinster Sue."
Sue, the pretty spinning-girl, knew very well what the little man was
doing, but she merely said to the servant, "It was all imagination that
made you think you saw it in the dark." She brightened up; for she knew
that all the stuff would be spun, and that he would not be able to carry
her off, as she knew his name. In the evening the little man returned
with one-third of the work done and said to her, "Well, do you know my
name yet?"
"Perhaps, perhaps," said she; but she would not have told his real name
for all the treasures in the world, fearing that he might cease working
if she did. Nor did she tell him when he came the next night. On the
third night the little man brought the last load; but this time he
brought a wheelbarrow with him, with three wheels, to take the girl away
with him. When he asked the girl his name she said, "If I'm not mistaken
your name is Dancing Vargaluska."
On hearing this the little man rushed off as if somebody had pulled his
nose.
The month being up, the prince sent to see if the girl had completed her
work; and when the messenger brought back word that all was finished the
king was greatly astonished how it could possibly have happened that so
much work had been done in so short a time, and went himself,
accompanied by a great suite of gentlemen and court-dames, and gazed
with great admiration upon the vast amount of fine yarn they saw. Nor
could they praise the girl enough, and all found her worthy to be queen
of the land. Next day the wedding was celebrated, and the girl became
queen. After the grand wedding-dinner the poor came, and the king
distributed alms to them; amongst them were three deformed beggars, who
struck the king very much: one was an old woman whose eyelids were so
long that they covered her whole face; the second was an old woman
whose lower lip was so long that the end of it reached to her knee; the
third old woman's posterior was so flat that it was like a pancake.
These three were called into the reception-room and asked to explain why
they were so deformed. The first said, "In my younger days I was such a
good spinster that I had no rival in the whole neighbourhood. I spun
till I got so addicted to it that I even used to spin at night: the
effect of all this was that my eyelids became so long that the doctors
could not get them back to their places."
The second said, "I have spun so much during my life and for such a
length of time that with continually biting off the end of the yarn my
lips got so soft that one reached my knees."
The third said, "I have sat so much at my spinning that my posterior
became flat as it is now."
Hereupon the king, knowing how passionately fond his wife was of
spinning, got so frightened that he strictly prohibited her ever
spinning again.
The news of the story went out over the whole world, into every royal
court and every town; and the women were so frightened at what had
happened to the beggars that they broke every distaff, spinning-wheel,
and spindle, and threw them into the fire!
THE ENVIOUS SISTERS.
A king had three daughters whose names were Pride, Gentleness, and
Kindness. The king was very fond of them all, but he loved the youngest
one, Kindness, the most, as she knew best how to please him. Many
clever young gentlemen came to visit Kindness, but no one ever came near
the other two, and so they were very envious of her, and decided they
would get rid of her somehow or other. One morning they asked their
father's permission to go out into the fields, and from thence they went
into the forest. Kindness was delighted at having liberty to roam about
in such pretty places; the other two were pleased that they had at last
got the bird into their hands. As the dew dried up the two eldest
sisters strolled about arm in arm, whilst the youngest chased
butterflies and plucked the wild strawberries, with the intention of
taking some home to her father; she spent her time in great glee,
singing and listening to the songs of the birds, when suddenly she
discovered that she had strolled into an immense wood. As she was
considering what to do, her two sisters appeared by her side, and said
spitefully, "Well, you good-for-nothing! you have never done anything
but try to make our father love you most and to spoil our chances in
every way, prepare yourself for your end, for you have eaten your last
piece of bread." Kindness lifted up her hands, and besought them not to
harm her, but they cut off her hands, and only spared her life under the
condition that she would never go near her home again; they then took
her beautiful precious mantle from her, and dressed her in old rags;
they then led her to the highest part of the forest, and showed her an
unknown land, bidding her go there and earn her living by begging. The
blood streamed from Kindness's arms, and her heart ached in an
indescribable way, but she never uttered the slightest reproach against
her sisters, but started off in the direction pointed out to her.
Suddenly she came to a beautiful open plain, where there was a pretty
little orchard full of trees, and their fruit was always ripening all
the year round. She gave thanks to God that he had guided her there,
then, entering the garden, she crouched down in a by-place. As she had
no hands to pluck the fruit with she lived upon what grew upon low
boughs; thus she spent the whole summer unnoticed by any one.
But towards autumn, when every other fruit was gone save grapes, she
lived on these, and then the gardener soon discovered that the bunches
had been tampered with and that there must be some one about: he watched
and caught her. Now it so happened that the garden belonged to a prince,
who spent a great deal of his time there, as he was very fond of the
place. The gardener did not like to tell him of what had happened, as he
pitied the poor handless girl and was afraid his master would punish her
severely. He decided therefore to let her go. Accidentally, however, the
prince came past and asked who she was. "Your highness," replied the
gardener, "I know no more of her than you do. I caught her in the
garden, and to prevent her doing any more damage I was going to turn her
out." "Don't lead her away," said the prince; "and who are you,
unfortunate girl?" "You have called me right, my lord," said Kindness,
"for I am unfortunate, but I am not bad; I am a beggar, but I am of
royal blood. I was taken from my father because he loved me most;
crippled because I was a good child. That is my story." To this the
prince replied, "However dirtily and ragged you are dressed, still it is
clear to me that you are not of low birth: your pretty face and polished
speech prove it. Follow me; and whatever you have lost you will find in
my house." "Your highness, in this nasty, dirty dress--how can I come
into your presence? Send clothes to me which I can put on, and then I
will do whatever you order." "Very well," said the prince; "stay here,
and I will send to you." He went and sent her a lady-in-waiting with
perfumed water to wash with, a gorgeous dress, and a carriage. Kindness
washed and dressed herself, got into the carriage, and went to the
prince. Quite changed in her appearance, not at all like as she was
before, however much she suffered she was as pretty as a Lucretia; and
the prince fell so much in love with her that he decided on the spot
that he would marry her; and so they got married, with great splendour,
and spent their time together in great happiness.
When the two elder sisters came home from the forest their father
inquired where Kindness was. "Has she not come home?" said they; "we
thought that she would have been home before us. As she was running
after butterflies she got separated from us. We looked for her
everywhere and called for her; as we got no answer we set off home
before the darkness set in."
The king gave orders that Kindness was to be looked for everywhere; they
searched for days but could not find her; then the king got so angry in
his sorrow that he drove the two elder girls away because they had not
taken proper care of their sister. They set out into the world in quite
another direction, but by accident arrived in the country where Kindness
was queen; here they lived a retired life in a small town unknown to
all. Kindness at this time was enceinte; and as war broke out with a
neighbouring nation her royal husband was obliged to go to the field of
battle. The war lasted a long time, and in the meantime Kindness gave
birth to twins, two handsome sons; on the forehead of one was the sign
of the blessed sun, on the other the sign of the blessed moon; in great
joy the queen's guardian sent a letter containing the good news to the
king by a messenger to the camp. The messenger had to pass through the
small town where the envious sisters dwelt; it was quite dark when he
arrived, and as he did not see a light anywhere but in their window he
went and asked for a night's lodging; while he stayed there he told them
all about the object of his journey; you may imagine how well he was
received, and with what pleasure they offered him lodging, these envious
brutes! When the messenger fell asleep they immediately took possession
of the letter, tore it open, read it, and burnt it, and put in its place
another to the king, saying that the queen had given birth to two
monsters which looked more like puppies than babes; in the morning they
gave meat and drink to the messenger, and pressed him to call and see
them on his way back, as they would be delighted to see him. He accepted
their kind invitation, and promised that he would come to them, and to
no one else, on his return. The messenger arrived at the camp and
delivered his letter to the king, who was very downcast as he read it;
but still he wrote back and said that his wife was not to be blamed; "if
it has happened thus how can I help it? don't show her the slightest
discourtesy," wrote he. As the messenger went back he slept again in the
house of the two old serpent-sisters; they stole the king's letter and
wrote in its place: "I want neither children nor mother; see that by the
time I come home those monsters be out of my way, so that not even so
much as their name remain." When this letter was read every one was very
sorry for the poor queen, and couldn't make out why the king was so
angry, but there was nothing for it but for the king's orders to be
carried out, and so the two pretty babes were put in a sheet and hung
round Kindness's neck, and she was sent away. For days and days poor
Kindness walked about suffering hunger and thirst, till at last she came
to a pretty wood; passing through this she travelled through a valley
covered with trees; passing through this at last she saw the great
alpine fir-trees at the end of the vale; there she found a clear spring;
in her parching thirst she stooped to drink, but in her hurry she lost
her balance and fell into the water; as she tried to drag herself out
with her two stumps, to her intense astonishment she found that by
immersion her two hands had grown again as they were before; she wept
for joy. Although she was hiding in an unknown place with no husband, no
father, no friend, no help whatever, with two starving children in this
great wilderness, still she wasn't sorrowful, because she was so
delighted to have her hands again. She stood there, and could not make
up her mind in which direction to go; as she stood looking all round she
suddenly caught sight of an old man coming towards her. "Who are you?"
said the old man. "Who am I?" she replied, sighing deeply; "I'm an
unfortunate queen." She then told him all she had suffered, and how she
had recovered her hands that very minute by washing in the spring. "My
poor good daughter," said the old man, bitterly, "then we are both
afflicted ones; it's quite enough that you are alive, and that I have
found you. Listen to me: your husband was warring against me, he drove
me from my country, and hiding from him I came this way; not very far
from here with one of my faithful servants I have built a hut and we
will live together there." The old man, in order to prove the miraculous
curing power of the spring, dipped his maimed finger into it, which was
shot off in the last war; as he took it out, lo! it was all right once
more.
When the war was over, Kindness's husband returned home and inquired
after his wife. They told him all that had happened, and he was deeply
grieved, and went in search of her with a great number of his people,
and they found her at last with her two pretty babes, living with her
old father. On inquiry it was also found out where the messenger with
the letters had slept and how the letters were changed. Pride and
Gentleness were summoned and sentenced to death; but Kindness forgave
them all their misdeeds, and was so kind to them that she obtained their
pardon, and also persuaded her father to forgive them.
There is no more of this speech to which you need listen, as I have told
it to the very end and I have not missed a word out of it. Those of whom
I have spoken may they be your guests, every one of them, to-morrow!
KNIGHT ROSE.
A king had three sons. When the enemy broke into the land and occupied
it, the king himself fell in the war. The young princes were good
huntsmen and fled from the danger, all three, taking three horses with
them. They went on together for a long time, till they did not even know
where they were; on they journeyed, till at last they came to the top of
the very highest snow-covered mountain, where the road branched off:
here they decided to separate and try their luck alone. They agreed that
on the summit of the mountain, at the top of a tall tree, they would fix
a long pole, and on it a white handkerchief. They were to keep well in
sight of this white flag, and whenever the handkerchief was seen full of
blood the one who saw it was to start in search of his brothers, as one
of them was in danger. The name of the youngest was Rose; he started off
to the left, the other two went to the right. When Rose came to the
seventh snow-capped mount and had got far into it he saw a beautiful
castle and went in. As he was tired with travelling and wanted a night's
rest, he settled down. When even came the gates of the castle opened
with great noise, and seven immense giants rushed into the courtyard and
from thence into the tower. Every one of them was as big as a tall
tower. Rose, in his fright, crept under the bed; but the moment the
giants entered one of them said, "Phuh! What an Adam-like smell there is
here!" Looking about they caught Rose, cut him up into small pieces like
the stalk of a cabbage and threw him out of the window.
In the morning the giants went out again on their business. From a bush
there came forth a snake, which had the head of a pretty girl; she
gathered up every morsel of Rose's body, arranged them in order, and
said, "This belongs here, that belongs there." She then anointed him
with grass that had healing power, and brought water of life and death
from a spring that was not far off and sprinkled it over him. Rose
suddenly jumped up on his feet and was seven times more beautiful and
strong than before. At this moment the girl cast off the snake-skin as
far as the arm-pits. As Rose was now so strong he became braver, and in
the evening did not creep under the bed, but waited for the giants
coming home, at the gate. They arrived and sent their servants in
advance to cut up that wretched heir of Adam; but they could not manage
him, it took the giants themselves to cut him up. Next morning the
serpent with the girl's head came again and brought Rose to life as
before, and she herself cast off her skin as far as her waist. Rose was
now twice as strong as a single giant. The same evening the seven giants
killed him again, he himself having killed the servants and wounded
several of the giants. Next morning the giants were obliged to go
without their servants. Then the serpent came and restored Rose once
more, who was now stronger than all the seven giants put together, and
was so beautiful that though you could look at the sun you could not
look at him. The girl now cast off the serpent's skin altogether and
became a most beautiful creature. They told each other the story of
their lives. The girl said that she was of royal blood, and that the
giants had killed her father and seized his land, that the castle
belonged to her father, and that the giants went out every day to
plunder the people. She herself had become a snake by the aid of a good
old quack nurse, and had made a vow that she would remain a serpent
until she had been avenged on the giants, and she knew now that although
she had cast off the snake's skin she had nothing to fear because Rose
was a match for the seven giants. "Now, Rose," said she, "destroy them
every one, and I will not be ungrateful." To which he replied, "Dearest
one, you have restored me to life these three times--how could I help
being grateful to you? My life and my all are yours!" They took an oath
to be true to each other till death, and spent the day merrily till
evening set in, when the giants came, and Rose addressed them thus: "Is
it not true, you pack of scoundrels, that you have killed me three
times? Now, I tell you that not one of you shall put his foot within
these gates! Don't you believe me? Let's fight!" They charged upon him
with great fury, but victory was, this time, on his side; he killed
them one after the other and took the keys of the castle out of their
pockets. He then searched over every nook in the building, and came to
the conclusion that they were safe, as they had now possession of the
castle.
The night passed quietly; next morning Rose looked from the courtyard to
the top of the snow-covered mountain, in the direction of the white
flag, and saw that it was quite bloody. He was exceedingly sorry, and
said to his love, "I must go in search of my two elder brothers, as some
mischief has befallen them; wait till I return, because if I find them I
shall certainly be back."
He then got ready, took his sword, bow and arrow, some healing-grass,
and water of life and death with him, and went to the very place where
they had separated. On the way he shot a hare, and when he came to the
place of separation he went on the same road by which his elder brothers
had gone; he found there a small hut and a tree beside it; he stopped in
front of the tree, and saw that his brothers' two dogs were chained to
it; he loosed them, lighted a fire, and began to roast the hare. As he
roasted it he heard a voice as if some one were shouting from the tree
in a shivering voice; "Oh, how cold I am!" it said. "If you're cold,"
replied Rose, "get down and warm yourself." "Yes," said the voice, "but
I'm afraid of the dogs." "Don't be afraid as they won't hurt an honest
person." "I believe you," said the voice in the tree, "but still I want
you to throw this hair between them; let them smell it first, then they
will know me by it." Rose took the hair and threw it into the fire. Down
came an old witch from the tree and warmed herself. Then she spitted a
toad and began to roast it. As she did so she said to Rose, "This is
mine, that is yours," and threw it at him. As Rose couldn't stand this
he jumped up, drew his sword, and smote the witch; but lo! the sword
turned into a log of wood, and the witch flew at him to kill him,
crying, "It's all up with you also. I've killed your brothers in
revenge because you killed my seven giant sons."[1] But Rose set the
dogs at her, and they dragged her about till they drew blood. The blood
was spilt on the log of wood and it became a sword again. Rose caught
hold of it and chopped the old witch's left arm off. Now the witch
showed him the place where she had buried his brothers. Rose smote her
once more with his sword and the old witch went to Pluto's. Rose dug out
the bodies, put the bits together, anointed them with the healing-grass,
and sprinkled them with the water of life and death, and they came to
life again.
When they opened their eyes and saw Rose, they both exclaimed, "Oh! how
long I have been asleep." "Very long indeed," said Rose, "and if I
hadn't come you'd have been asleep still." They told him that soon after
they had separated they received the news that the enemy had withdrawn
from their country, and they decided to return, and that the elder
should undertake the government of the land, and the other go in search
of Rose. On their way they happened to go into the hut, and the old
witch treated them as she was going to treat Rose.
Rose also told them his tale, and spoke to them thus: "You, my eldest
brother, go home, and sit on our father's throne. You my other brother
come with me, and let us two govern the vast country over which the
giants had tyrannised until now:" and thus they separated and each went
on his own business.
Rose found his pretty love again, who was nearly dead with fretting for
him, but who quite recovered on his happy return. They took into their
hands the government of the vast country which they had delivered from
the sway of the giants. Rose and his love got married with the most
splendid wedding-feast, and the bride had to dance a great deal; and if
they've not died since they're alive still to this very day.
May they curl themselves into an eggshell and be your guests to-morrow.
[1] According to Kozma this is the only instance in the Székely
folk-lore which accounts for the origin of giants.
PRINCE MIRKÓ.
There was once, I don't know where, a king who had three sons. This king
had great delight in his three sons, and decided to give them a sound
education, and after that to give them a place in the government, so
that he might leave them as fit and willing heirs to his throne; so he
sent these sons to college to study, and they did well for a while; but
all of a sudden they left college, came home, and would not return. The
king was very much annoyed at their conduct, and prohibited them from
ever entering his presence. He himself retired, and lived in an eastern
room of the royal residence, where he spent his time sitting in a window
that looked eastward, as if he expected some one to come in that
direction. One of his eyes was continually weeping, while the other was
continually laughing. One day, when the princes were grown up, they held
a consultation, and decided to ascertain from their royal father the
reason why he always sat in the east room, and why one eye was
continually weeping while the other never ceased laughing. The eldest
son tried his fortune first, and thus questioned the king: "Most
gracious majesty, my father. I have come to ask you, my royal sire, the
reason why one of your eyes is always weeping while the other never
ceases laughing, and why you always sit in this east room." The king
measured his son from top to toe, and never spoke a word, but seized his
long straight sword which leant against the window and threw it at him:
it struck the door, and entered into it up to the hilt. The prince
jumped through the door and escaped the blow that was meant for him. As
he went he met his two brothers, who inquired how he had fared. "You'd
better try yourself and you will soon know," replied he. So the second
prince tried, but with no better result than his brother. At last the
third brother, whose name was Mirkó, went in, and, like his brother,
informed the king of the reason of his coming. The king uttered not a
word, but seized the sword with even greater fury, and threw it with
such vehemence that it entered up to the hilt in the wall of the room:
yet Mirkó did not run away, but only dodged the sword, and then pulled
it out of the wall and took it back to his royal father, placing it on
the table in front of him. Seeing this the king began to speak and said
to Prince Mirkó, "My son, I can see that you know more about honour than
your two brothers. So I will answer your question. One of my eyes weeps
continually because I fret about you that you are such good-for-nothings
and not fit to rule; the other laughs continually because in my younger
days I had a good comrade, Knight Mezey, with whom I fought in many
battles, and he promised me that if he succeeded in vanquishing his
enemy he would come and live with me, and we should spend our old age
together. I sit at the east window because I expect him to come in that
direction; but Knight Mezey, who lives in the Silk Meadow, has so many
enemies rising against him every day as there are blades of grass, and
he has to cut them down all by himself every day; and until the enemies
be extirpated he cannot come and stay with me." With this, Prince Mirkó
left his father's room, went back to his brothers, and told them what
he had heard from the king. So they held council again, and decided to
ask permission from their father to go and try their fortunes. First the
eldest prince went and told the king that he was anxious to go and try
his fortune, to which the king consented: so the eldest prince went into
the royal stables and chose a fine charger, had it saddled, his bag
filled, and started on his journey the next morning. He was away for a
whole year, and then suddenly turned up one morning, carrying on his
shoulder a piece of bridge-flooring made of copper; throwing it down in
front of the royal residence, he walked into the king's presence, told
him where he had been, and what he had brought back with him. The king
listened to the end of his tale and said, "Well, my son, when I was as
young as you are I went that way, and it only took me two hours from the
place where you brought this copper from. You are a very weak knight:
you won't do; you can go." With this the eldest prince left his father's
room. The second prince then came in and asked the king to permit him to
try his fortune, and the king gave him permission. So he went to the
royal stables, had a fine charger saddled, his bag filled, and set off.
At the end of a year he returned home, bringing with him a piece of
bridge-flooring made of silver; this he threw down in front of the royal
residence, and went in unto the king, told him all about his journey and
about his spoil. "Alas!" said the king, "when I was as young as you I
went that way, and it did not take me more than three hours; you are a
very weak knight, my son: you will not do."
With this he dismissed his second son also. At last Prince Mirkó went in
and asked permission to go and try his fortune, and the king granted him
permission, so he also went into the royal stables in order to choose a
horse for the journey; but he did not find one to suit him, so he went
to the royal stud-farm to choose one there. As he was examining the
young horses, and could not settle which to have, there suddenly
appeared an old witch, who asked him what he wanted. Prince Mirkó told
her his intention, and that he wanted a horse to go on the journey.
"Alas! my lord," said the old witch, "you can't get a horse here to suit
you, but I will tell you how to obtain one: go to your father, and ask
him to let you have the horn which in his younger days he used to call
together his stud with golden hair, blow into it, and the golden stud
will at once appear. But don't choose any of those with the golden hair;
but at the very last there will come a mare with crooked legs and shaggy
coat; you will know her by the fact that when the stud passes through
the gates of the royal fortress the mare will come last, and she will
whisk her tail and strike the heel-post of the fortress-gate with such
force that the whole fort will quiver with the shock. Choose her, and
try your fortune." Prince Mirkó followed the witch's advice most
carefully. Going to the king he said, "My royal father, I come to ask
you to give me the horn with which in your younger days you used to call
together your stud with the golden hair." "Who told you of this?"
inquired the king. "Nobody," replied Prince Mirkó. "Well, my dear son,
if no one has informed you of this, and if it be your own conception,
you are a very clever fellow; but if any one has told you to do this
they mean no good to you. I will tell you where the horn is, but by this
time, I daresay, it is all rust-eaten. In the seventh cellar there is a
recess in the wall; in this recess lies the horn, bricked up; try to
find it, take it out, and use it if you think you can." Prince Mirkó
sent for the bricklayer on the spot, and went with him to the cellar
indicated, found the recess, took the horn, and carried it off with him.
He then stood in the hall of the royal residence and blew it, facing
east, west, south, and north. In a short time he heard the tingle of
golden bells begin to sound, increasing till the whole town rang with
the noise; and lo! through the gates of the royal residence beautiful
golden-haired horses came trooping in. Then he saw, even at the
distance, the mare with the crooked legs and shaggy coat, and as she
came, the last, great Heavens! as she came through the gates she whisked
the heel-post with her tail with such force that the whole building
shook to its very foundation. The moment the stud had got into the royal
courtyard he went to the crooked-legged shaggy-coated mare, caught her,
had her taken to the royal stables, and made it known that he intended
to try his fortune with her. The mare said "Quite right, my prince; but
first you will have to give me plenty of oats, because it would be
difficult to go a long journey without food." "What sort of food do you
wish? Because whatever my father possesses I will willingly give to
you," said the prince. "Very well, my prince," said the mare; "but it is
not usual to feed a horse just before you start on a journey, but some
time beforehand." "Well, I can't do much at present," said the prince;
"but whatever I've got you shall have with pleasure." "Well, then, bring
me a bushel of barley at once, and have it emptied into my manger."
Mirkó did this; and when she had eaten the barley she made him fetch a
bushel of millet; and when she had eaten that she said, "And now bring
me half a bushel of burning cinders, and empty them into my manger."
When she had eaten these she turned to a beautiful golden-haired animal
like to the morning-star. "Now, my prince," said she, "go to the king
and ask him to give you the saddle he used when he rode me in his
younger days." Prince Mirkó went to the old king and asked him for the
saddle. "It cannot be used now," said he, "as it has been lying about so
long in the coach-house, and it's all torn by this, but if you can find
it you can have it." Prince Mirkó went to the coach-house and found the
saddle, but it was very dirty, as the fowls and turkeys had for many
years roosted on it, and torn it; still he took it to the mare in order
to put it on her, but she said that it was not becoming a prince to sit
upon such a thing, wherefore he was going to have it altered and
repaired; but the mare told him to hold it in front of her, and she
breathed on it, and in a moment it was changed into a beautiful gold
saddle, such as had not an equal over seven countries; with this he
saddled the tátos (mythical horse). "Now, my prince," said she, "you had
better go to your father and ask him for the brace of pistols and the
sword with which he used to set out when he rode me in former days." So
the prince went and asked these from his father, but the old king
replied "that they were all rusty by this time, and of no use," but, if
he really wanted them, he could have them, and pointed out the rack
where they were. Prince Mirkó took them and carried them to the mare,
who breathed upon them, and changed them into gold; he then girded on
his sword, placed the pistols in the holsters, and got ready for a
start. "Well, my dear master," said the mare, "where now is my bridle?"
Whereupon, the prince fetched from the coach-house an old bridle, which
she blew upon and it changed into gold; this the prince threw over her
head, and led her out of the stable, and was about to mount her when the
mare said, "Wait a minute, lead me outside the town first, and then
mount me;" so he led her outside the town, and then mounted her. At this
moment the mare said, "Well, my dear master, how shall I carry you?
Shall I carry you with a speed like the quick hurricane, or like a flash
of thought?" "I don't mind, my dear mare, how you carry me, only take
care that you run so that I can bear it."
To this the mare replied, "Shut your eyes and hold fast." Prince Mirkó
shut his eyes, and the mare darted off like a hurricane. After a short
time she stamped upon the ground and said to the prince, "Open your
eyes! What can you see?" "I can see a great river," said Prince Mirkó,
"and over it a copper bridge." "Well, my dear master," said the mare,
"that's the bridge from which your eldest brother carried off part of
the flooring: can't you see the vacant place?" "Yes, I can see it," said
the prince, "and where shall we go now?" "Shut your eyes and I will
carry you;" with this, she started off like a flash of lightning, and in
a few moments again stamped upon the ground and said, "Open your eyes!
Now what do you see?" "I see," said Prince Mirkó, "a great river, and
over it a silver bridge." "Well, my dear master, that's the bridge from
which your second brother took the silver flooring; can't you see the
place?" "Yes," said he, "I can, and now where shall we go?"
"Shut your eyes and I will carry you," said the mare, and off she darted
like lightning, and in a moment she again stamped upon the ground and
stopped and said to Prince Mirkó, "Open your eyes! What can you see?" "I
see," replied he, "a vast, broad, and deep river, and over it a golden
bridge, and at each end, on this side and that, four immense and fierce
lions. How are we to get over this?" "Don't take any notice of them,"
said the mare, "I will settle with them, you shut your eyes." Prince
Mirkó shut his eyes, the mare darted off like a swift falcon, and flew
over the bridge; in a short time she stopped, stamped, and said, "Open
your eyes! Now what do you see?" "I see," said the prince, "an immense,
high glass rock, with sides as steep as the side of a house." "Well, my
dear master," said the mare, "We have to get over that too."
"But that is impossible," said the prince; but the mare cheered him, and
said, "Don't worry yourself, dear master, as I still have the very shoes
on my hoofs which your father put on them with diamond nails six hundred
years ago. Shut your eyes and hold fast."
At this moment the mare darted off, and in a twinkling of the eye she
reached the summit of the glass rock, where she stopped, stamped, and
said to the prince, "Open your eyes! What can you see?" "I can see,
below me," said Prince Mirkó, "on looking back, something black, the
size of a fair-sized dish." "Well, my dear master, that is the orb of
the earth; but what can you see in front of you?" "I can see," said
Prince Mirkó, "a narrow round-backed glass path, and by the side of it,
this side as well as on the other side, a deep bottomless abyss." "Well,
my dear master," said the mare, "we have to get over that, but the
passage is so difficult that if my foot slips the least bit either way
we shall perish, but rely on me. Shut your eyes and grasp hold of me,
and I will do it." With this the mare started and in another moment she
again stamped on the ground and said, "Open your eyes! What can you
see?" "I can see," said Prince Mirkó, "behind me, in the distance, some
faint light and in front of me such a thick darkness that I cannot even
see my finger before me." "Well, my dear master, we have to get through
this also. Shut your eyes, and grasp me." Again she started and again
she stamped. "Open your eyes! What can you see now?" "I can see," said
Prince Mirkó, "a beautiful light, a beautiful snow-clad mountain, in the
midst of the mountain a meadow like silk, and in the midst of the meadow
something black." "Well, my dear master, that meadow which looks like
silk belongs to Knight Mezey, and the black something in the middle of
it is his tent, woven of black silk; it does not matter now whether you
shut your eyes or not, we will go there." With this Prince Mirkó spurred
the mare, and at once reached the tent.
Prince Mirkó jumped from his mare and tied her to the tent by the side
of Knight Mezey's horse, and he himself walked into the tent, and lo!
inside, a knight was laid at full length on the silken grass, fast
asleep, but a sword over him was slashing in all directions, so that not
even a fly could settle on him. "Well," thought Prince Mirkó to himself,
"this fellow must be a brave knight, but I could kill him while he
sleeps; however, it would not be an honourable act to kill a sleeping
knight, and I will wait till he wakes." With this he walked out of the
tent, tied his mare faster to the tent-post, and he also lay down full
length upon the silken grass, and said to his sword, "Sword, come out of
thy scabbard," and his sword began to slash about over him, just like
Knight Mezey's, so that not even a fly could settle on him.
All of a sudden Knight Mezey woke, and to his astonishment he saw
another horse tied by the side of his, and said, "Great Heavens! what's
the meaning of this? It's six hundred years since I saw a strange horse
by the side of mine! Whom can it belong to?" He got up, went out of the
tent, and saw Prince Mirkó asleep outside, and his sword slashing about
over him. "Well," said he, "this must be a brave knight, and as he has
not killed me while I was asleep, it would not be honourable to kill
him," with this he kicked the sleeping knight's foot and woke him. He
jumped up, and Knight Mezey thus questioned him: "Who are you? What is
your business?" Prince Mirkó told him whose son he was and why he had
come. "Welcome, my dear brother," said Knight Mezey, "your father is a
dear friend of mine, and I can see that you are as brave a knight as
your father, and I shall want you, because the large silken meadow that
you see is covered with enemies every day, and I have to daily cut them
down, but now that you are here to help me I shall be in no hurry about
them; let's go inside and have something to eat and drink, and let them
gather into a crowd, two of us will soon finish them." They went into
the tent and had something to eat and drink; but all at once his enemies
came up in such numbers that they came almost as far as the tent, when
Knight Mezey jumped to his feet and said, "Jump up, comrade, or else we
are done for." They sprang to their horses, darted among the enemy, and
both called out, "Sword, out of thy scabbard!" and in a moment the two
swords began to slash about, and cut off the heads of the enemy, so that
they had the greatest difficulty in advancing on account of the piles of
dead bodies, till at last, at the rear of the enemy, twelve knights took
to flight, and Knight Mezey and Prince Mirkó rode in pursuit of them,
till they reached a glass rock, to which they followed the twelve
knights, Prince Mirkó being the nearest to them. On the top of the rock
there was a beautiful open space, towards which the knights rode and
Prince Mirkó after them on his mare, when all at once they all
disappeared, as if the earth had swallowed them; seeing this, Prince
Mirkó rode to the spot where they disappeared, where he found a
trap-door, and under the door a deep hole and a spiral staircase. The
mare without hesitation jumped into the hole, which was the entrance to
the infernal regions. Prince Mirkó, looking round in Hades, suddenly
discerned a glittering diamond castle, which served the lower regions
instead of the sun, and saw that the twelve knights were riding towards
it; so he darted after them, and, calling out "Sword, come out of thy
scabbard," he slashed off the twelve knights' heads in a moment, and,
riding to the castle, he heard such a hubbub and clattering that the
whole place resounded with it: he jumped off his horse, and walked into
the castle, when lo! there was an old diabolical-looking witch, who was
weaving and making the clattering noise, and the whole building was now
full of soldiers, whom the devilish witch produced by weaving. When she
threw the shuttle to the right, each time two hussars on horseback
jumped out from the shuttle, and when she threw it to the left, each
time two foot soldiers jumped from it fully equipped. When he saw this,
he ordered his sword out of its scabbard, and cut down all the soldiers
present. But the old witch wove others again, so Prince Mirkó thought to
himself, if this goes on, I shall never get out of this place, so he
ordered his sword to cut up into little pieces the old witch, and then
he carried out the whole bleeding mass into the courtyard, where he
found a heap of wood: he placed the mass on it, put a light to it, and
burnt it. But when it was fully alight a small piece of a rib of the
witch flew out of the fire and began to spin around in the dust, and lo!
another witch grew out of it. Prince Mirkó thereupon was about to order
his sword to cut her up too, when the old witch addressed him thus:
"Spare my life, Mirkó, and I will help you in return for your kindness;
if you destroy me you can't get out of this place; here! I will give you
four diamond horse-shoe nails, put them away and you will find them
useful." Prince Mirkó took the nails and put them away, thinking to
himself, "If I spare the old witch she will start weaving again, and
Knight Mezey will never get rid of his enemies," so he again ordered his
sword to cut up the witch, and threw her into the fire and burnt her to
cinders. She never came to life again. He then got on his mare and rode
all over the lower regions, but could not find a living soul anywhere,
whereupon he spurred his mare, galloped to the foot of the spiral
staircase, and in another moment he reached the upper world. When he
arrived at the brink of the glass rock he was about to alight from his
mare: and stopped her for this purpose, but the mare questioned him
thus, "What are you going to do, Prince Mirkó?" "I was going to get
down, because the road is very steep and it's impossible to go down on
horseback." "Well then, dear master, if you do that you can't get below,
because you couldn't walk on the steep road, but if you stop on my back,
take hold of my mane, and shut your eyes, I will take you down."
Whereupon the mare started down the side of the rock, and, like a good
mountaineer, climbed down from the top to the bottom, and having arrived
at the foot of the steep rock, spoke to Prince Mirkó thus: "You can open
your eyes now." Mirkó having opened his eyes, saw that they had arrived
in the silken meadow.
They started in the direction of Knight Mezey's tent, but Knight Mezey
thought that Mirkó had already perished, when suddenly he saw that Mirkó
was alive, so he came in great joy to meet him, and leading him into his
tent, as he had no heir, he offered him the silk meadow and his whole
realm, but Mirkó replied thus: "My dear brother, now that I have
destroyed all your enemies, you need not fear that the enemy will occupy
your country, therefore I should like you to come with me to my royal
father, who has been expecting you for a very long time." With this they
got on their horses, and started off in the direction of the old king's
realm, and arrived safely at the very spot on the glass rock where
Mirkó had jumped down. Knight Mezey stopped here, and said to Prince
Mirkó: "My dear brother, I cannot go further than this, because the
diamond nails of my horse's shoes have been worn out long ago, and the
horse's feet no longer grip the ground." But Mirkó remembered that the
old witch had given him some diamond nails, and said: "Don't worry
yourself, brother. I have got some nails with me, and I will shoe thy
horse." And taking out the diamond nails, he shod Knight Mezey's horse
with them. They mounted once more, and like two good mountaineers
descended the glass rock, and as swift as thought were on the way home.
The old king was also then sitting in the eastern window, awaiting
Knight Mezey, when suddenly he saw two horsemen approaching, and,
looking at them with his telescope, recognised them as his dear old
comrade Knight Mezey, together with his son, Prince Mirkó, coming
towards him; so he ran down at once, and out of the hall. He ordered the
bailiff to slaughter twelve heifers, and by the time that Knight Mezey
and Mirkó arrived, a grand dinner was ready waiting for them; and on
their arrival he received them with great joy, embraced them and kissed
them, and laughed with both his eyes. Then they sat down to dinner, and
ate and drank in great joy. During dinner Knight Mezey related Mirkó's
brave deeds, and, amongst other things, said to the old king: "Well,
comrade, your son Mirkó is even a greater hero than we were. He is a
brave fellow, and you ought to be well pleased with him." The old king
said: "Well, when I come to think of it, I begin to be satisfied with
him, especially because he has brought you with him; but still I don't
believe that he would have courage to fight Doghead also." Prince Mirkó
was listening to their talk but did not speak. After dinner, however, he
called Knight Mezey aside, and asked him who Doghead was, and where he
lived. Knight Mezey informed him that he lived in the north, and that he
was such a hero that there was no other to equal him under the sun.
Prince Mirkó at once gave orders for the journey, filled his bag, and
next day started on his mare to Doghead's place; according to his
custom, he sat upon the mare, grasped her firmly, and shut his eyes. The
mare darted off, and flew like a swift cyclone, then suddenly stopped,
stamped on the ground, and said, "Prince Mirkó, open your eyes. What do
you see?" "I see," said the Prince, "a diamond castle, six stories high,
that glitters so that one can't look at it, although one could look at
the sun." "Well, Doghead lives there," said the mare, "and that is his
royal castle." Prince Mirkó rode close under the window and shouted
loudly: "Doghead! are you at home? Come out, because I have to reckon
with you." Doghead himself was not at home, but his daughter was
there--such a beautiful royal princess, whose like one could not find in
the whole world. As she sat in the window doing some needlework, and
heard the high shrill voice, she looked through the window in a great
rage, and gave him such a look with her beautiful flashing black eyes,
that Prince Mirkó and his mare at once turned into a stone statue.
However, she began to think that perhaps the young gentleman might be
some prince who had come to see her; so she repented that she had
transformed him into a stone statue so quickly; and ran down to him,
took out a golden rod, and began to walk round the stone statue, and
tapped its sides with her gold rod, and lo! the stone crust began to
crack, and fell off, and all at once Prince Mirkó and his mare stood
alive in front of her. Then the princess asked; "Who are you? and what
is your business?" And Mirkó told her that he was a prince, and had come
to see the Princess of Doghead. The princess slightly scolded him for
shouting for her father so roughly through the window, but at the same
time fell in love with Prince Mirkó on the spot, and asked him to come
into her diamond castle, which was six stories high, and received him
well. However, while feasting, Prince Mirkó during the conversation
confessed what his true errand was, viz., to fight Doghead; but the
princess advised him to desist from this, because there was no man in
the whole world who could match her father. But when she found that
Mirkó could not be dissuaded, she took pity on him, and, fearing that
lest he should be vanquished, let him into the secret how to conquer her
father. "Go down," she said, "into the seventh cellar of the castle;
there you will find a cask which is not sealed. In that cask is kept my
father's strength. I hand you here a silver bottle, which you have to
fill from the cask; but do not cork the bottle, but always take care
that it shall hang uncorked from your neck; and when your strength
begins to fail, dip your little finger into it, and each time your
strength will be increased by that of five thousand men; also drink of
it, because each drop of wine will give you the strength of five
thousand men." Prince Mirkó listened attentively to her counsel, hung
the silver bottle round his neck, and went down into the cellar, where
he found the wine in question, and from it he first drank a good deal,
and then filled his flask, and, thinking that he had enough in his
bottle, he let the rest run out to the last drop, so that Doghead could
use it no more. There were in the cellar six bushels of wheat flour,
with this he soaked it up, so that no moisture was left, whereupon he
went upstairs to the princess, and reported that he was ready and also
thanked her for her directions, and promised that for all her kindness
he would marry her, and vowed eternal faith to her. The beautiful
princess consented to all, and only made one condition, viz., that in
case Prince Mirkó conquered her father he would not kill him.
Prince Mirkó then inquired of the beautiful princess when she expected
her father home, and in what direction, to which the princess replied
that at present he was away in his western provinces, visiting their
capitals, but that he would be home soon, because he was due, and that
it was easy to predict his coming, because when he was two hundred miles
from home, he would throw home a mace weighing forty hundredweight, thus
announcing his arrival, and wherever the mace dropped a spring would
suddenly burst from the ground. Prince Mirkó thereupon went with the
royal princess into the portico of the royal castle, to await there
Doghead's arrival, when suddenly, good Heavens! the air became dark, and
a mace, forty hundredweight, came down with a thud into the courtyard of
the royal fortress, and, striking the ground, water burst forth
immediately in the shape of a rainbow. Prince Mirkó at once ran into the
courtyard in order to try how much his strength had increased. He picked
up the mace swung it over his head, and threw it back so that it dropped
just in front of Doghead. Doghead's horse stumbled over the mace;
whereupon Doghead got angry. "Gee up! I wish the wolves and dogs would
devour you," shouted Doghead to the horse. "I have ridden you for the
last six hundred years, and up to this time you have never stumbled
once. What's the reason that you begin to stumble now?" "Alas! my dear
master," said his horse, "there must be something serious the matter at
home, because some one has thrown back your mace that you threw home,
and I stumbled over it." "There's nothing the matter," said Doghead; "I
dreamt six hundred years ago that I would have to fight Prince Mirkó,
and it is he who is at my castle; but what is he to me? I have more
strength in my little finger than he in his whole body." With this he
darted off at a great speed and appeared at the castle. Prince Mirkó was
awaiting Doghead in the courtyard of the fortress. The latter, seeing
Prince Mirkó, galloped straight to him and said, "Well, Mirkó. I know
that you are waiting for me. Here I am. How do you wish me to fight you?
With swords? or shall we wrestle?" "I don't care how; just as you
please," said Mirkó. "Then let us try swords first," said Doghead, and,
getting off his horse, they stood up, and both ordered out their swords.
"Swords, come out of the scabbards." The two swords flew out of the
scabbards and began to fence over the heads of the combatants. The whole
place rung with their clashing, and in their vehemence they sent forth
sparks in such quantity that the whole ground was covered with fire, so
that no one could stand the heat. Whereupon Doghead said to Mirkó,
"Don't let us spoil our swords, but let us put them back into their
scabbards, and let us wrestle." So they sheathed their swords and began
to wrestle. When suddenly Doghead grasped Mirkó round the waist, lifted
him up, and dashed him to the ground with such force that Mirkó sank to
his belt. Mirkó was frightened, and quickly dipped his little finger
into the bottle. Whereupon he regained his strength, and, jumping out of
the ground, made a desperate dash at Doghead, and threw him to the
ground with such force, that he lay full length on the ground like a
green frog; then he seized him by his hair and dragged him behind the
royal residence, where a golden bridge stood over a bottomless lake. He
dragged him on to the bridge, and, holding his head over the water,
ordered his sword out of the scabbard and cut off his head, so that it
dropped into the bottomless lake, and then he pushed the headless trunk
after it.
Doghead's daughter saw all this, and grew very angry with Prince Mirkó,
and as he approached her she turned her face away, and would not even
speak to him; but Prince Mirkó explained to her that he could not do
otherwise, for if he had spared Doghead's life he would have destroyed
his; and that he was willing to redeem his promise, and keep his faith
to the princess and take her for his wife. Whereupon the royal princess
became reconciled, and they decided to get ready to go to Prince Mirkó's
realm. They ordered the horses--Doghead's charger was got ready for the
beautiful princess--and, mounting them, were about to start, when all at
once deep sorrow seized Prince Mirkó, and the beautiful royal princess
thus questioned him: "Why are you so downcast, Mirkó?" "Well, because,"
said Mirkó, "I'm anxious to go back to my country, but I am also
extremely sorry to leave behind this sumptuous diamond castle, six
stories high, which belonged to your father, for there is nothing like
it in my country." "Well, my love," said the princess, "don't trouble
about that. I will transform the castle into a golden apple at once, and
sit in the middle of it, and all you will have to do is to put the apple
into your pocket, and then you can take me with you and the castle too,
and when you arrive at home you can re-transform me wherever you like."
Thereupon the pretty princess jumped down from her horse, handed the
reins to Mirkó, took out a diamond rod, and commenced to walk round the
diamond castle, gently beating the sides of it with the diamond rod, and
the castle began to shrink and shrunk as small as a sentry box, and then
the princess jumped inside of it, and the whole shrivelled up into a
golden apple, the diamond rod lying by the side of it. Prince Mirkó
picked up the golden apple and the diamond rod, and put them into his
pocket, and then got on horseback, and, taking Doghead's horse by the
bridle, he rode quietly home. Having arrived at home, Mirkó had the
horses put in the stables, and then walked into the royal palace, where
he found the old king and Knight Mezey quite content and enjoying
themselves. He reported to them that he had conquered even Doghead, and
that he had killed him; but the old king and Knight Mezey doubted his
words. Therefore Prince Mirkó took them both by their arms, and said to
them, "Come along with me, and you can satisfy yourselves, with your own
eyes, that I have conquered Doghead, because I have brought away with
me, not only his diamond castle, six stories high, but also his
beautiful daughter, inside it, as a trophy of my victory." The old king
and Knight Mezey were astonished at his words, and, still doubting,
followed Mirkó, who took them into the flower garden of the king, in the
middle of which Prince Mirkó selected a nice roomy place for the diamond
castle, and placed the golden apple there, and commenced walking round,
and, patting its sides with the diamond rod, the golden apple began to
swell. It took a quadrangular shape, growing and growing, higher and
higher, till it became a magnificent six-storied diamond castle; and
then he took the old king and Knight Mezey by their arms, and led them
up the diamond staircase into the rooms of the castle, where the
princess, who was world-wide known for her beauty, met them, and
received them most cordially. She bade them sit down, and sent lackeys
to call the other sons of the old king and also the higher dignitaries
of the court. In the dining-hall there was a big table, which could be
opened out. She gave orders, and the table was laid of itself, and on it
appeared all sorts of costly dishes and drinks, and the assembled guests
feasted in joy. The old king was highly satisfied with his son's doings,
and handed over to Mirkó the royal power and the whole realm: he himself
and Knight Mezey retired into quiet secluded life, and lived long in
great happiness. The young royal couple who got married had beautiful
children, and they are alive still, to this very day, if they have not
died since. May they be your guests to-morrow!
THE STUDENT WHO WAS FORCIBLY MADE KING.
A student started on a journey, and as he went over a field he found
some peas which were cracked. He thought that they might be of use to
him as he was a poor lad, and his father had advised him to pick up
anything he saw, if it was worth no more than a flea; so he gathered up
the peas and put them in his pocket. As he travelled he was overtaken by
night just when he arrived at the royal borough; so he reported himself
to the king, and asked for some money for travelling expenses, and a
night's lodging. Now the student was a comely lad, spoke grammatically,
and had good manners. The queen noticed this, and as she had a daughter
ready for marriage, she came to the conclusion that he was a prince in
disguise, who had come in search of a wife. She told this to the king,
and he thought it very probable. Both agreed that they would try to find
out whether he really was a prince, and asked him to stay with them for
two days. The first night they did not give him a very splendid bed,
because they thought that if he were satisfied, he was but a student, if
not, then he must be a prince. They made his bed in the adjoining house,
and the king placed one of his confidential servants outside of the
window, that he might spy out all that the student did. They showed the
bed to the student, and he began to undress when they left. As he
undressed all the peas dropped out of his pocket, and rolled under the
bed; he at once began to look for them and pick them up, one by one, and
did not finish till dawn. The spy outside could not make out what he was
doing, but he saw that he did not go to sleep till dawn, and then only
for a short time, having spent the night arranging his bed; so he
reported to the king that his guest had not slept, but had fidgeted
about, appearing not to be used to such a bed. The student got up, and
during breakfast the king asked him how he had slept, to which he
replied, "A little restlessly, but it was through my own fault." From
this they concluded that he already repented of not having shown them
his true position, and thus having not got a proper bed. They believed,
therefore, that he was a prince, and treated him accordingly. Next night
they made his bed in the same place, but in right royal style. As the
student had not slept the night before, the moment he put his head down
he began to sleep like a pumpkin, and never even moved till dawn. He had
no trouble with his peas this time, for he had tied them up in the
corner of his handkerchief as he picked them up from under the bed. The
spy reported to the king next morning that the traveller slept soundly
all night. They now firmly believed that the student simply dressed up
as such, but in reality was a prince. They tried to persuade him that
he was a prince, and addressed him as such. The king's daughter ran
after the student to get into his favour, and it didn't take much to
make him fall in love with her, and so the two got married. They had
lived a whole year together, when they were sent off to travel in order
that the student-king might show his wife his realm. The student was
very frightened that he might not get out of his trouble so well, and
grew more and more alarmed, till at last he accepted his fate. "Let come
whatever is to come," thought he, "I will go with them, and then, if
nothing else can be done, I can escape, and go back to college," for he
had carried his student's gown with him everywhere. They started off and
travelled till they came to a large forest. The student slipped aside
into a deep ditch, where he undressed, in order to put on his student's
clothes and to escape. Now there was a dragon with seven heads lazily
lying there, who accosted him thus: "Who are you? What are you looking
for here? What do you want?" The student told him his whole history, and
also that he was just going to run away. "There is no need to run away,"
said the dragon, "that would be a pity, continue your journey; when you
get out of this wood you will see a copper fortress, which swivels on a
goose's leg. Go into it, and live there in peace with your wife, with
your dog and cat, till the fortress begins to move and turn round. When
this happens, be off, because if I come home and catch you there, there
will be an end of you." The student went back to his travelling
companions and continued his way until, emerging from the wood, he saw
the fortress. They all went in and settled down as in their own, and all
went on very well for two years, and he already began to believe that he
really was a king, when suddenly the fortress began to move, and swivel
round very quickly. The student was downcast, and went up on the
battlement of the fortress, wandering about in great sorrow; he there
found an old woman, who asked him, "What's the matter with your
Majesty?" "H'm! the matter is, old woman," replied the student, "that I
am not a king, and still I am compelled to be one," and then he told her
his whole history up to that time. "There's nothing in that, my son,"
said the old woman, "be thankful that you have not tried to keep your
secret from me. I am the queen of magic, and the most formidable enemy
of the dragon with seven heads; therefore this is my advice: get a loaf
made at once, and let this loaf be placed in the oven seven times with
other loaves, this particular loaf each time to be put in the oven the
first and to be taken out last. Have this loaf placed outside the
fortress gate to-morrow, without fail. When the dragon with the seven
heads is coming, it will be such a charm against him that he will never
trouble you again, and the fortress will be left to you with all that
belongs to it." The student had the loaf prepared as he was told, and
when the clock struck one after midnight the bread was already placed
outside the fortress gate. As the sun rose, the dragon with seven heads
went straight towards the fortress gate, where the loaf addressed him
thus, "Stop, I'm guard here, and without my permission you may not
enter; if you wish to come in, you must first suffer what I have
suffered."
"Well," said the dragon, "I've made up my mind to enter, so let me know
what ordeals you have gone through."
The loaf told him, that when it was a seed it was buried in a field that
had previously been dug up: then rotted, sprouted, and grew; it had
suffered from cold, heat, rain, and snow, until it ripened; it was then
cut down, tied into sheaves, threshed out, ground, kneaded into dough,
and then seven times running they put it in a fiery oven, each time
before its mates: "If you can stand all this," concluded the loaf,
"then I'll let you in, but on no other condition." The dragon, knowing
that he could not stand all this, got so angry that he burst in his rage
and perished. The student from that day became lord of the fortress, and
after the death of his wife's parents became king of two lands; and if
he has not died yet, he reigns still.
If I knew that I should fare as well as that student I would become a
student this very blessed day!
THE CHILDREN OF TWO RICH MEN.
There lived, at the two corners of a country, far away from each other,
two rich men; one of them had a son, the other a daughter; these two men
asked each other to be godfather to their children, and, during the
christening they agreed that the babes should wed. The children grew up,
but did no work, and so were spoilt. As soon as they were old enough
their parents compelled them to marry. Shortly afterwards their parents
died and they were left alone; they knew nothing of the world and did
not understand farming, so the serfs and farm-labourers had it all their
own way. Soon their fields were all overgrown with weeds and their
corn-bins empty; in a word they became poor. One day the master
bethought himself that he ought to go to market, as he had seen his
father do; so he set off, and drove with him a pair of beautiful young
oxen that were still left. On his way he met a wedding-party, and
greeted them thus, "May the Lord preserve you from such a sorrowful
change, and may He give consolation to those who are in trouble," Words
he had once heard his father use upon the occasion of a funeral. The
wedding-party got very vexed, and, as they were rather flushed with
wine, gave him a good drubbing, and told him that the next time he saw
such a ceremony he was to put his hat on the end of his stick, lift it
high in the air, and shout for joy. He went on further till he came to
the outskirts of a forest, where he met some butcher-like looking people
who were driving fat pigs, whereupon he seized his hat, put it on the
end of his stick, and began to shout: which so frightened the pigs that
they rushed off on all sides into the wood; the butchers got hold of him
and gave him a sound beating, and told him that the next time he saw
such a party he was to say, "May the Lord bless you with _two_ for every
_one_ you have." He went on again and saw a man clearing out the weeds
from his field, and greeted him, "My brother, may the Lord bless you
with _two_ for every _one_ you have." The man, who was very angry about
the weeds, caught him and gave him a sound beating, and told him that
the next time he saw such things he had better help to pull out one or
two. In another place he met two men fighting, so he went up and began
to pull first at one and then at the other, whereupon they left off
fighting with each other and pitched into him. Somehow or other he at
last arrived at the market, and, looking round, he saw an unpainted cart
for sale, whereupon he remembered that his father used to go into the
wood in a cart, and so he asked the man who had it for sale whether he
would change it for his two oxen--not knowing that having once parted
with the oxen he would not get them back again. The man was at first
angry, because he thought he was making fun of the cart, but he soon saw
that the man with the oxen was not quite right in his head, and so he
struck the bargain with the young farmer, who, when he got the cart,
went dragging it to and fro in the market. He met a blacksmith and
changed the cart for a hatchet; soon the hatchet was changed for a
whetstone; then he started off home as if he had settled matters in the
most satisfactory manner. Near his village he saw a lake, and on it a
flock of wild ducks. He immediately threw his whetstone at them, which
sank to the bottom, whilst every one of the ducks flew away.
He undressed and got into the lake, in order to recover his whetstone,
but in the meantime his clothes were stolen from the bank, and, having
no clothes, he had to walk home as naked as when he was born. His wife
was not at home when he arrived. He took a slice of bread from the
drawer, and went into the cellar to draw himself some wine; having put
the bread on the door-sill of the cellar, he went back to get his wine,
as he did so he saw a dog come up and run away with his bread; he at
once threw the spigot after the thief, so the spigot was lost, the bread
was lost, and every drop of wine was lost, for it all ran out. Now there
was a sack of flour in the cellar, and in order that his wife might not
notice the wine he spread the flour over it. A goose was sitting on eggs
in the cellar, and as he worked she hissed at him. Thinking that the
bird was saying, that it was going to betray him to his wife, he asked
it two or three times, "Will you split?" Going up to the goose, it
hissed still more, so he caught hold of it by the neck, and dashed it
upon the ground with such force that it died on the spot. He was now
more frightened than ever, and in order to amend his error he plucked
off the feathers, rolled himself about in the floury mess, then amongst
the feathers, and then sat on the nest as if he were sitting. His wife
came home, and, as she found the cellar door wide open, she went down
stairs, and found her husband sitting in the nest and hissing like a
goose; but his wife soon recognised him, and, picking up a log of wood,
she attacked him, saying, "Good Heavens, what an animal, let me kill it
at once!" Up he jumped from the nest, and cried out in a horrible
fright, "Don't touch me, my dear wife, it's I!" His wife then questioned
him about his transactions, and he gave a full account of all that had
happened; so his wife drove him away and said, "Don't come before my
eyes again till you have made good your faults." She then gave him a
slice of bread and a small flask of spirit, which he put in his pocket
and went on his way, his wife wishing him "a happy journey, if the road
is not muddy." On his way he met Our Lord Christ and said to him, "I'm
not going to divide my bread with you, because you have not made a rich
man of me." Then he met Death, with him he divided his bread and his
spirits, therefore Death did not carry him off, and he asked Death to be
his child's godfather.
Then said Death, "Now you will see a wonder"; with this he slipped into
the spirit flask, and was immediately corked up by the young man. Death
implored to be set free, but the young farmer said, "Promise me then
that you will make me a rich man, and then I will let you out." Death
promised him this, and they agreed that the man was to be a doctor, and
whenever Death stood at the patient's feet, he or she was not to die,
and could be cured by any sort of medicine whatever: but if Death stood
at the patient's head he was to die: with this they parted.
Our man reached a town where the king's daughter was very ill. The
doctors had tried all they could, but were not able to cure her, so he
said that he was going to cure her, if she could be cured, if not, he
would tell them; so thereupon he went into the patient and saw Death
standing at her feet. He burnt a stack of hay, and made a bath for her
of the ashes, and she recovered so soon as she had bathed in it. The
king made him so many presents that he became a very rich man: he
removed to the town, brought his wife there, and lived in great style as
a doctor. Once however he fell sick, and his koma [his child's
godfather] came and stood at his head, and the patient begged hard for
him to go and stand at his feet, but his koma replied, "Not if I know
it," and then the doctor also departed to the other world.
THE HUSSAR AND THE SERVANT GIRL.[1]
The wife of a priest in olden times, it may have been in the
antediluvian world, put all the plates, dishes, and milk-jugs into a
basket and sent the servant to wash them in the brook. While the girl
was washing she saw a cray-fish crawl out of the water, and, as she had
never seen one in her life before, she stood staring at it, and was a
little frightened. It so happened that a hussar rode past on horseback,
and the girl asked him, "Would you mind telling me, my gallant horseman,
what sort of a God's wonder that yonder is?" "Well, my sister," said the
soldier, "that is a cray-fish." The servant then took courage, and went
near the cray-fish to look at it, and said, "But it crawls!" "But it's a
cray-fish," said the soldier again. "But it crawls," said the servant
abruptly. "But it's a cray-fish," said the soldier a third time. "Well,
my gallant horseman, how can you stand there and tell me that, when I
can see that it crawls?" said the servant. "But, my sister, how can you
stand there and tell me, when I can see that it's a cray-fish?" said the
soldier. "Well, I'm neither blind nor a fool, and I can see quite well
that it's a-crawling," said the servant. "But neither am I blind nor a
fool, and I can see that it is a cray-fish," said the soldier.
The servant got so angry that she dashed her crockery to the ground and
broke it into fragments, crying, in a great rage, "May I perish here if
it is not a-crawling!" The hussar jumped off his saddle, drew his sword,
and cut off his horse's head, saying, "May the executioner cut off my
neck like this if it isn't a cray-fish!" The soldier went his way on
foot, and the servant went home without her ware, and the priest's wife
asked, "Well, where are all the pots?" The servant told her what had
happened between the soldier and her about a cray-fish and a-crawling.
"Is that the reason why you have done all the damage?" said the priest's
wife. "Oh, mistress, how could I give in when I saw quite well that it
was a-crawling; and still that nasty soldier kept on saying it was a
cray-fish?" The wife of the priest was heating the oven, as she was
going to bake, and she got into such a rage that she seized her new fur
jacket, for which she had given a hundred florins, and pitched it into
the oven, saying, "May the flames of the fire burn me like this if you
were not both great fools!" "What is all this smell of burning?" asked
the priest, coming in. Learning what had happened about a cray-fish and
a-crawling, he took his gown and cut it up on the threshold with a
hatchet, saying, "May the executioner cut me into bits like this if the
three of you are not fools!" Then came the schoolmaster (his calf had
got loose and run into the clergyman's yard, and he had come after it to
drive it home): and, hearing what had happened, and why, he caught hold
of a stick, and struck his calf such a blow on the head that it fell
down dead on the spot, exclaiming, "If God will, may the fiery
thunderbolt thus strike me dead if you all four are not fools!"
Then came the churchwarden, and asked what had happened there, and when
he was told he got into such a rage that he picked up the church-box and
dashed it on the ground in the middle of the yard, so that the box was
broken to pieces, and the precious altar-covers and linen were rolling
about on the dirty ground, saying, "May I perish like this, at this very
hour, if the whole five of you are not fools!"
In the meantime the sacristan came in, and, seeing the linen on the
floor, he threw up his hands and said, "Well, I never! whatever's the
matter?" Then they told him what had happened, and why, whereupon he
picked up all the covers and linen and tore them into shreds, saying,
"May the devil tear me to atoms like this if you six are not a parcel of
raving lunatics!"
News of the event soon got abroad, and the whole congregation gathered
together and set the priest's house on fire, crying, "May the flames of
the fire burn us all like this, every one of us, if all the seven were
not fools!"
[1] The zest of this tale turns upon a similarity in the sound of the
words in Magyar for "cray-fish," and "crawling."
MY FATHER'S WEDDING.
Once I discovered all of a sudden, it was before I was born, that my
father was going to get married, and take my mother unto him. My father
said to me, "Go to the mill and have some corn ground for bread for the
wedding!" Whereupon I betook myself hurriedly like a smart fellow, I
looked for a cloth, and took up into the loft three bags, and filled
nine sacks with the best wheat of Dálnok, the best to be found; I put
all nine sacks at once over my shoulder, and took them to the cart. I
led out oxen and tried to yoke them, but neither of them could find it's
old place; I put the off-side one on the near side, and the near-side
one on the off side, and they were all right. I tried the yoke-pins, but
they would not fit, I therefore put in lieu of one the handle of a
shovel, and in place of the other a pole, and then all was right. I went
to the mill with the team, and when I arrived there I stopped the oxen
and stuck the whip into the ground in front of them to prevent them
running away; I myself went into the mill to call the miller to assist
me in carrying in the wheat. I couldn't find a soul in the mill. I
looked around, under the bed, behind the oven, and saw that the green
jug was not on it's peg; from this I knew that the mill was away
gathering strawberries, so I thought, if this were so, I should have to
wait patiently till it returned, but then I remembered that it was not
its custom to hurry back, and by the time it got back my hair might be
grey, and then it would be difficult for oxen to wait from year to year
as I had not brought aught for them to feed on. So I rushed after it at
a dog's trot, out on to the mount, and found it sniffing about the
shrubs, so I cut a jolly good stick and began to bang it on both sides
as hard as my strength allowed me, till I happened to hit it rather hard
with the stick, and, having struck it, I could hear it far away as it
began to move down in the valley, and it ground away and made such a
clatter; it was just grinding my wheat! In order to get down from the
mount into the valley more quickly, I lay down on the ground and rolled
down the slope, and after me all the stumps, who envied my pastime.
Nothing happened to them, and the only accident I had was that I knocked
my nose a little into some soft cow-dung, but I didn't carry it away
altogether, and a good deal of it is left there still. The poor white
horse fared much worse than that, as it was grazing at the foot of the
mount, it got so frightened by us that it ran out of this world with a
fetter fastened to it's feet, and has not returned to this very day. I
rubbed my nose on the sward as a hen does, and went to see what had
become of the oxen in the meantime: lo! the stock of my whip had taken
root and become such a tall tree that it was as high as the big tower at
Brassó[1] and the starlings had built their nests in it, and had so many
young ones that you couldn't hear the clattering of the mill for their
chirping.
Well, I was very much delighted, thinking that now I could catch a lot
of young starlings; I knew how to climb well. I climbed the tree, and
tried to put my hand into a hole but couldn't, so I tried my head, and
that went in comfortably. I stuffed my breast full of starlings. When I
tried to get out of the hole I could not; so I rushed home and fetched
an adze, and cut myself out. I couldn't get down, as the tree was so
thick and my head so giddy, so I called the miller to help me, but he,
thinking that my complaint was hunger, sent me some miller-cake by his
son, but I told him in a great rage that that was not what I wanted: so
off he ran at once, and brought me a bushel of bran, handing it up on
the end of a pale. I twisted the bran into a rope, so strong that it
would bear a millstone, and I tried whether it would reach the ground,
but it did not reach, so I doubled it up, then it not only reached, but
trailed on the ground. I began to glide down it, but a beetle aloft
sawed it in two where it was tied to the bough, and down I dropped rope
and all; but while I was falling to the ground, in the meantime, the
young starlings in my breast got their feathers, took to their wings,
and flew away with me. When we were flying over the river Olt, some
women who were washing rags on the bank began to shout, "What the fiery
thunderbolt is the boy doing that he flies so well? If he drops he will
drop straight in the river and drown." I saw they were all staring at
me, but from the chirping of the young starlings I couldn't clearly hear
what they shouted: so I thought they were shouting that I should untie
the waist-band of my shirt. I untied the waist-band of my shirt below
the garter that tied my socks: with this the young starlings got out of
my bosom all at once and all the wings I had flew away. Down I dropped
into the middle of the river: with my splash the waters overflowed the
banks and washed as far as the foot of the mountain: but when the waters
flowed back into the bed of the river, (with the exception of a few
drops that were lapped up by a thirsty shepherd-dog of Gidófalú) so many
fish were left on the bank that they covered the whole place, from
Málnás to Doboly and from Árkos to Angyalos and even the whole plain of
Szépmezö. Well, there was a lot of fish! Twelve buffalo-carts were
carting them away without interruption for a whole week, and the
quantity didn't get less, you couldn't see that any had been taken away:
but a stark naked gipsy brat came that way from Köröspatak, and he
picked them up, put them into his shirt lap, and carried them all away.
I then remembered that they had not sent me here to play but to grind
corn, so I started in the direction of where I had left the oxen to see
what they were doing, and whether they were there still. I travelled for
a long time till I got quite tired. I saw in a meadow a horse, and I
thought I could easily get on it, and go where I wished to go, but it
would not wait for me. I caught hold of its tail, turned it round, and
so we stood face to face, and I said to it quite bumptiously: "Ho! stop,
old nag. Don't be so frisky." It understood the kind words and stopped
dead, like a peg. I put the saddle on the grey and sat on the bay and
started off on the chestnut; over a ditch and over a stile, so that the
horse's feet did not touch the ground. In one place I passed a vineyard,
and inside the hedge there was a lot of pretty ripe fruit. I stopped the
grey, got down from the bay, and tied the chestnut to the paling. I
tried to climb over the hedge, but couldn't, so I caught hold of my
hair, and swung myself over. I began to shake the plum-tree, and walnuts
dropped. I picked up the filberts and put them in my bosom. It was very
hot, I was very thirsty, so that I nearly died of thirst. I saw that not
very far away there were some reapers, and I asked, "Where can I get
water here?" They shewed me a spring not far off. I went there, and
found that it was frozen over. I tried in vain to break the ice with my
heel, and then with a stone, but did not succeed, as the ice was a span
thick; so I took the skull from my head and broke the ice with it
easily. I scooped up water with it, and had a hearty drink. I went to
the hedge and swung myself over by the hair into the road; then I untied
the grey, got on the bay, and galloped off on the chestnut, over stile
and ditch, so that my hair flew on the wind. In one place I passed two
men. As I overtook them, they called out after me: "Where's your head,
my boy?" I immediately felt my back, and lo! my head was not there; so I
galloped back at a quick dog-trot to the spring. What did I see? My
skull felt lonely without me, and had so much sense that as I forgot it
there, it had made a neck, hands, waist, and feet, for itself out of
the mud, and I caught it sliding on the ice. Well! I wasn't a bad hand
at sliding myself, so I slid after it as fast as I could. But it knew
better than I did, and so I couldn't possibly catch it. My good God!
What could I do? I was very much frightened that I was really going to
be left without a head but I remembered something, and thought to
myself: "Never mind, skull, don't strain yourself, you can't outdo me."
So I hurriedly made a greyhound out of mud, and set it after my skull.
He caught it in a jiffy, and brought it to me. I took it and put it on:
I went to the hedge, and seizing myself by the hair, swung myself over
the hedge: untied the grey, got on the bay, and galloped away on the
chestnut, over a stile, and over a ditch, like a bird, till I came to
the mill, where I found that my father had not had patience to wait for
me, and so had set off in search of me; and, as he couldn't find me,
began to bewail me, vociferating: "Oh! my soul! Oh! my son! Where have
you gone? Oh! Oh! Why did I send you without anybody to take care of
you? Oh! my soul! Oh! my son! Now all is over with you. You must have
perished somewhere." As my father was always scolding me, and calling me
bad names in my lifetime, I could never have believed that he were able
to pity me so much. When I saw what was the matter with him, I called
from a distance: "Console yourself, father, I am here, 'a bad hatchet
never gets lost.'" It brought my poor old father's spirits back. We put
the sacks full of flour on the cart and went home, and celebrated my
father's wedding sumptuously. The bride was my mother, and I was the
first who danced the bride's dance with her, and then the others had a
turn, and when the wedding was over, all the guests went away and we
were left at home by ourselves, and are alive at this date, if we are
not dead. I was born one year after this, and I am the legitimate son of
my father, and have grown up nicely, and have become a very clever lad.
[1] Cronstadt in Transylvania.
THE BAA-LAMBS.
There was once, somewhere or in some other place, I don't know where,
over seven times seven countries, or even beyond them, a poor widow, and
she had three unmarried sons who were so poor that one had always to go
out to service. First the eldest went, and, as he was going and going
over seven times seven countries, and even beyond them, he met an old
man, who accosted him, saying, "My younger brother, where are you
going?" The lad answered, "My father, I am going to look for work." "And
I am in need of a servant," the old man replied; so he engaged the lad
on the spot to tend his baa-lambs. In the morning, as the lad went out
with them, the old man told him not to drive them and not to guide them,
but simply to go after them, as they would graze quietly if left to
themselves. The lad started with the baa-lambs; first they came to a
splendid meadow, he went in and trotted after them as his master had
told him; then they came to a swift stream and the baa-lambs went over
it, but the lad had not the courage to go into the water, but walked up
and down the bank till evening, when the baa-lambs returned of their own
accord, recrossed the water, and, as night had set in, he drove them
home. "Well, my dear son," said his master, "tell me where you have been
with the baa-lambs." "My dear father, I only followed after them. First
of all they went into a large plain; after that we came to a great,
swift stream; they got over the large sheet of water, but I remained on
this side, as I did not dare to go into the deep water." As the poor lad
finished his tale the master said, "Well, my dear son, I shall send you
away, as I can see very well that you are not fit for service," and he
sent him off without any pay. The lad went home, very much cast down.
When he got home his two brothers asked him, "Well, dear brother, how
did you get on in service?" "Hum, how did I get on, and what did I do?
You'd better go yourselves and you will soon know." "Very well," they
replied, and the second son went to look for service, met the same old
man, and fared the same as his brother, and was sent home without
anything. As he arrived home his younger brother met him and asked,
"Well, dear brother, what sort of service did you get?" "Hum," replied
he, "What sort of a place did I get? You had better go and then you also
will know." "Very well," replied the youngest, and he too went to try
his luck. As he went along he met the same old man, and was engaged by
him to tend his baa-lambs for a year; the old man told him, too, to walk
after them, and not to leave them under any circumstances. Next morning
the old man prepared the lad's bag, and let the baa-lambs out of the
fold; they started off, and the lad followed them, step by step, till
they came to a pretty, green plain: they walked over it, quietly grazing
along as they went, till they came to the swift stream; the baa-lambs
crossed it, and the lad followed them; but the moment he entered the
water the swift current swept off his clothes and shrivelled his flesh,
so that, when he got to the other side, he was only skin and bones; so
soon as he reached the other bank the baa-lambs turned back and began to
blow on him, and his body was at once fairer than it ever was before.
The baa-lambs started off again till they came to a large meadow where
the grass was so high that it was ready for the scythe, and still the
cattle grazing on it were so ill-fed that a breath of wind would have
blown them away; the baa-lambs went on to another meadow which was quite
barren, and the cattle there had nothing to eat, yet they were as fat as
butter; thence the baa-lambs went into a huge forest, and there, on
every tree, was such a lamentation and crying and weeping as one could
not conceive of; the lad looked to see what the meaning of the loud
crying could be, and lo, on every bough there was a young sparrow, quite
naked! and all were weeping and crying. From here the baa-lambs went
sauntering on till they came to a vast garden; in this garden there
were two dogs fighting, so that the foam ran from their mouths; still
they could not harm each other. The baa-lambs went on further till they
came to a great lake, and there the lad saw a woman in the lake,
scooping with a spoon something from the water incessantly, and still
she was not able to scoop the thing up. From there the baa-lambs went
further, and, as they went, he saw a brook of beautiful, running water,
clear like crystal, and, as he was very thirsty, he had half a mind to
drink of it, but, thinking that the spring-head was very much better, he
went there, and saw that the water was bubbling out of the mouth of a
rotting dead dog, which so frightened him that he did not taste a drop.
From there the baa-lambs went into another garden, which was so
wonderfully pretty that human eye had never seen the like before.
Flowers of every kind were blooming, but the baa-lambs left them
untouched, only eating the green grass, and, as they ate, he sat down
under the shade of a beautiful flowering tree in order to partake of
some food, when suddenly he saw that a beautiful white pigeon was
fluttering about in front of him; he took his small blunderbuss, which
he had with him, and shot at the pigeon, knocking off a feather, but the
pigeon flew away; he picked up the feather and put it in his bag. From
thence the baa-lambs started off home, the lad following them. When they
arrived, the old man asked: "Well, my son, and how did the baa-lambs
go?" "They went very well," answered the lad, "I had no trouble with
them. I had merely to walk after them." As he said this, the old man
asked him: "Well, my son, tell me where you have been with the
baa-lambs." Then he told him that the baa-lambs first went into a pretty
green plain, then they went through a swift stream; and he told him
all--where he had been with them and so on. When he had finished his
tale, the old man said: "My dear son, you see that wonderful pretty
green plain where you went first with the baa-lambs represents your
youth up to this day. The water through which you went is the water of
life which washes away sin: that it washed away all your clothes and
dried up your flesh means that it washes away all your previous sins:
that on the other shore, upon the baa-lambs breathing on you, your body
became purer, means that the holy faith, by the water of life, has
penetrated all over your soul, and you have become purified from your
sins, regenerate in all; the baa-lambs who breathed upon you are angels,
and your good and pious teachers. The ill-fed cattle amidst the
luxuriant grass means that the avaricious, whilst surrounded by plenty,
even begrudge themselves food; they will be misers even in the other
world: they will have plenty to eat and drink, they will partake of
both, and still will be eternally hungry and thirsty. Those beasts who
fed in the barren field, and were so fat, means that those who have
given from their little to the poor in this world, and have not
chastised their bodies with hunger and thirst, will feed heartily in the
other world out of little food, and will never know hunger or thirst.
That the young birds cried so mournfully in the woods, my son, means
that those mothers in this world who do not have their children
baptised, but have them buried without, will, in the other world,
eternally weep and cry. The two dogs who fought so in the garden means
that those relatives who in this world fight and squabble over property
will eternally fight in the other world, and never come to terms. That
woman who was fishing in a lake so busily for something with a spoon,
and could not catch it, is he who in this world adulterates milk with
water and sells it in this state to others; he will in the other world
continually be in a lake, and will eternally fish about with a spoon, in
order to fish the milk out of the water, and will never succeed. That
you saw a pretty clear brook and did not drink of it, but went to the
spring where the water flowed out of the mouth of a dead dog, that
means, my dear son, the beautiful sermons of the clergy and their holy
prayers. The dead dog from whose mouth the clear water flowed represents
the priests who preach pious and wise lessons, but never keep them
themselves. The garden into which you went is Heaven. Those who live
without sin in this world will come into such a beautiful garden in the
other world. But now, my dear son, can you show me some proof that you
have really been in that garden?"
The lad quickly took from his bag the white pigeon's feather, and handed
it to him, saying, "Look here, my old father, I shot this from a white
pigeon there." The old man took the pigeon's feather, and said to him,
"You see, my son, I was that white pigeon, and I have been following you
all the journey through, and always kept watch over you, to see what you
did. So God also follows man unknown to him, to see what he does. The
feather you shot away was one of my fingers; look here, I have not got
it!" and as he looked he saw that the little finger was missing from the
old man's hand; with this, the old man placed the feather there, blew
upon it, and the finger was once more all right. In the meantime the
year came to an end--for if I may mention it here the year consisted of
but three days then--so the old man said to the lad: "Well, my son, the
year is now ended; hand me over the bag, and then you can go. But first
let me ask you would you rather have heaven, or so much gold as you can
carry home?" To this the lad replied that he did not wish for gold, but
only desired to be able to go to heaven. Thereupon the old man at once
filled a sack with gold for him, lifted it upon the lad's back, and sent
him home. The lad thanked the old man for his present, betook himself
home with his sack of gold, and became such a rich farmer with six oxen
that not in the whole village, nay, not even in the whole neighbourhood,
was there such a one who came near him. He also took to himself a
suitable girl as his wife, who was as pretty as a flower; he is alive to
this very day, if he has not died since. May he be your guest to-morrow!
FAIRY ELIZABETH.
There was once somewhere, I don't know where, beyond seven times seven
countries, and even beyond them, a poor man who had a wife and three
children. They were awfully poor. One day the eldest son said: "Dear
mother, bake me some ash-cake and let me go into service." His mother at
once baked the cake, and the lad started, and went on and on till he
came to a high snow-clad mountain, where he met a grey-haired man and
greeted him: "May the Lord bless you, my good old father." "The Lord
bless you, my son. What are you after?" asked the old man. "I am going
out to service, if the Lord will help me to some place." "Well, then,
come to me," said the old man, "I will engage you." So they went to the
house of the grey-haired old man, and the very next day they went out
ploughing but they only ploughed up some grass-land, and sowed it with
seed. Now let me tell you, that the old man promised him a bushel of
seed for sowing. Two days passed, and at dawn of the third day the old
man said: "Well, my son, to-day you can go out ploughing for yourself;
get the plough ready, yoke the oxen in, and in the meantime I will get
the bushel of wheat I promised." So the lad put the oxen to the plough
and the old man got the bushel of wheat and placed it on the plough.
They started, the old man accompanying him. Just at the end of the
village he said to the lad: "Well, my son, can you see that place yonder
covered with shrubs? Go there, and plough up as much of it for yourself
as you think will be enough for the bushel of wheat." The lad went, but
was quite alarmed at the sight of the shrubs, and at once lost heart.
"How could he plough there? Why, by the time he had grubbed up the
shrubs alone it would be night." So he ran off home, and left the plough
there, and the oxen then returned of their own accord to the old man's
place--if I may interrupt myself, they were the oxen of a fairy. When
the lad arrived at his father's house, his other brothers asked him:
"What sort of a place have you found?" "What sort of a place!" replied
he, "go yourself, and you will soon find out." The middle son set out,
and just as he was going over the snow-clad mountain he met the old man,
who engaged him on the spot as his servant, and promised him a bushel of
wheat, as he had done before. They went to the old man's home, and he
fared just as his elder brother had done. At dawn on the third day, when
he had to plough for himself, he got frightened at the sight of the vast
number of shrubs, which no human being could have ploughed up in the
stated time. So he went home too, and on his way he met his younger
brother, who asked him: "What sort of a place have you found, my dear
elder brother?" "What sort of a place had I? Get up out of the ashes,
and go yourself, and you will soon find out." Now let me tell you that
this boy was continually sitting among the ashes. He was a lazy,
ne'er-do-weel fellow; but now he got up, and shook the ashes from him
and said: "Well, my mother, bake me a cake also: as my brothers have
tried their fortune let me try mine." But his brothers said: "Oh! you
ash-pan! Supposing you were required to do nothing else but eat, you
would not be good enough even for that." But still he insisted, that his
mother should bake something for him. So his mother set to work and
baked him a cake of some inferior bran, and with this he set out. As he
went over the boundless snow-clad mountain, in the midst of it he met
the old man and greeted him: "The Lord bless you, my old father!" "The
Lord bless you, my son! Where are you going?" "I am going out to
service, if I can find an employer." "Well, you are the very man I want;
I am in search of a servant." And he engaged him on the spot, promising
to make him a present of a bushel of wheat for sowing. They went home
together, and after they had ploughed together for two days, the lad set
out on the third day to plough up the land allotted to him for his own
use: while the youngster was putting the oxen to the plough the old man
got the wheat and placed it on the plough. On the dyke there was a big
dog, who always lay there quietly; but this time he got up, and started
off in front of him. The old man also accompanied him as far as the end
of the village, from whence he showed him where to go ploughing. The
youngster went on with the plough, and soon saw that he was not able to
plough a single furrow, on account of the thick bushes. After
considering what to do, he bethought himself, and took his sharp hatchet
and began to cut down a vast quantity of shrubs and thorns, the dog
carrying them all into a heap. Seeing that he had cut enough, he began
to plough. The two oxen commenced to drag the plough and cut up the
roots in a manner never seen before. After he had turned three times, he
looked round and said: "Well, I'm not going to plough any more, but will
begin to sow, so that I may see how much seed I've got." He sowed the
seed, and noticed that it was just sufficient, and therefore he had to
plough no more. In great joy he set the plough straight and went home.
The old man met him and said: "Well, my son, thanks to the Lord, you
have now finished your year, and in God's name I will let you go. I do
not intend to engage any more servants." Before I forget to tell you, I
may mention it here, that the year had three days then. So the lad went
home, and his brothers asked him: "Well, then, what sort of a place have
you found?" "Well, I believe I've served my master as well as you did."
One day, a year after, he went into the field to look at his wheat crop.
There he saw an old woman reaping some young wheat, so he went home and
said to his father: "Well, my father, do you know what we have to do?
let's go reaping." "Where, my son?" "Well, father, for my last year's
service I had a bushel of wheat given to me for sowing, it has got ripe
by this time, so let us go and reap it." So all four (his father, his
two brothers, and himself) went; when they came to the spot they saw
that it was a magnificent crop, a mass of golden ears from root to top,
ready and ripe; so they all started to work and cut down every head.
They made three stacks of it, each stack having twenty-six sheaves.
"Well my son," said the father, "there are three stacks here and there
are three of you to guard them, so while I go home to hire a cart, guard
them well, so that the birds may not carry away a single stem." The
father went home, and the three sat down (one at the foot of each stack)
to watch them, but the youngest was the most anxious, as it was his own,
and ran to and fro continually to prevent his brothers falling asleep.
Just as he had awakened them and was going back to his own stack he saw
a woodpecker dragging away, by jerks, a golden ear along the ground, so
he ran after it in order to get it back, but just as he was on the point
of catching it the woodpecker flew off further and further, and enticed
him, until at last it got him into the very midst of the boundless
snow-clad mountains. All of a sudden the youngster discovered where he
was, and that it was getting dusk. "Where was he to go? and what was he
to do?" So he thought he would go back to the stacks, but as he had kept
his eye on the woodpecker and the wheat-ear, he had taken no notice of
the surroundings, and knew not which way he had come. So he determined
to climb the highest tree and look round from there: he looked about and
found the highest tree, climbed it, and looked East but saw nought,
South and saw nought: North, and far, very far away he saw a light as
big as a candle; so he came down, and started off in the direction in
which he had seen the light and went straight over ditches, woods,
rocks, and fields till at last he came to a large plain, and there he
found the fire which he had seen before, and lo! it was such a heap of
burning wood that the flames nearly reached heaven: he approached it and
when he drew near the burning heap he saw that a man was lying curled
round the fire, his head resting on his feet, and that he was covered
with a large cloak: then thought the lad, "Shall I lie down inside or
outside of the circle formed by the body of the man?" If he lay outside
he would catch cold; if he lay inside he would be scorched, he thought;
so he crept into the sleeve of the cloak, and there fell asleep. In the
morning when the sun arose, the big man awoke, he yawned wide, and got
up from the fire; as he rose the youngster dropt out of his sleeve on to
the ground: the giant looked at him (because I forgot to tell you it
wasn't a man, it was a giant), and was very much pleased at the sight;
he quickly picked him up, took him into his arms, and carried him into
his palace, (and even there put him into the best room) and put him to
bed, covered him up well, and crept out of the room on tiptoe lest he
should wake him. When he heard that the youngster was awake, he called
to him through the open door, "Don't be afraid, my dear son, I am a big
man it is true, but notwithstanding I will be to thee like thy father,
in thy father's place; like thy mother, in thy mother's place." With
this he entered the room, and the poor lad stared into the giant's eyes,
as if he were looking up to the sky. Suddenly the giant asked him how he
got there, and the lad told him the whole tale. "Well, my dear little
son, I will give you everything that your heart can think of, or your
mouth name, I will fulfil your every wish, only don't worry yourself;"
and he had all sorts of splendid clothes made for him, and kept him on
costly food; and this lasted till the lad became twenty years of age,
when one day the lad became very sad, and his giant father asked him,
"Well, my dear son, tell me why you are so sad, I will do all your heart
can think of, or your mouth name; but do tell me what's the matter with
you?" So the lad said, after hesitation, "Well! well! well! my dear
father, I am so sad because the time has come when I ought to get
married, and there's nobody here to get married to." "Oh! my son, don't
worry yourself over that, such a lad as you has but to wish and you
will find plenty of womankind, the very prettiest of them, ready to have
you; you will but have to choose the one your heart loves best." So
saying he called the lad before the gate and said: "Well, my son, you
can see that great white lake yonder: go there at noon prompt and hide
yourself under a tree, for every noon three lovely fairy girls come
there who are as handsome as handsome can be: you _can_ look at the sun,
but you can't look at them! They will come disguised as pigeons, and
when they arrive on the bank they will turn somersaults, and at once
become girls: they will then undress, and lay their dresses on the bank:
you must then glide up, and steal the dress of the one your heart loves
best, and run away home with it, but be careful not to look back,
however they may shout: because if you do, believe me, she will catch
you, box your ears, and take her clothes from you."
So he went to the lake and hid himself under an oak, and all at once
three white pigeons came flying, their wings flapping loudly as they
came, they settled down on the bank, and went to take a bath. The lad
wasn't slow to leave his hiding-place, and pick up the dress of the
eldest fairy girl and run away with it; but she noticed it at once,
rushed out of the lake, and ran after him, shouting: "Stop! sweet love
of my heart. Look at me; see how beautiful my skin is; how pretty my
breasts are. I'm yours, and you're mine!" So he looked round, and the
fairy snatched her dress away in a moment, slapped his face, and
returned to the others in the lake. Poor lad! he was very sad, and went
back and told his giant father all that had happened, and his giant
father answered, "Well; wasn't I right? Didn't I tell you not to look
back? But don't fret; three in number are the divine truths, and three
times also will you have to try. There are two yet left, go again
to-morrow at noon. Take care you don't look back, or pick up the same
dress that you picked up yesterday, because, believe me, if you do,
there will be the mischief to pay." So he went early next day (he
couldn't wait till noon) and hid himself under a tree, when all of a
sudden the pigeons appeared, turned somersaults, and became three
beautiful fairy girls. They undressed, laid their dresses on the bank,
and went into the lake; in short, the lad fared with the second as with
the first--he couldn't resist the temptation of looking back when the
beautiful fairy kept imploring him, as the sweet love of her heart, to
gaze at her beautiful skin and breasts. He looked back, was slapped in
the face as before, and lost the fairy dress. He went home again, very
sad, to his giant father, and told him how he had fared; and the giant
said in reply: "Never mind, don't bother yourself, my son, three are the
divine truths; there is one more left for you; you can try again
to-morrow, but only be very careful not to look back this time." Next
day he couldn't wait till noon, but went and hid himself under the oak
very early, and had to wait a long, long time. At last the white pigeons
arrived, turned somersaults as before, and put their dresses on the
bank, whilst they themselves went into the lake. Out he rushed from his
hiding-place, snatched up the youngest's dress, and ran away with it.
But the fairy noticed that her dress was gone, and rushed out of the
lake after him like a hurricane, calling out incessantly: "Stop! sweet
love of my heart, look how beautifully white my skin is! See how
beautifully white are my breasts. I am yours, and you are mine." But the
lad only ran faster than ever, and never looked behind once, but ran
straight home to his giant father, and told him that he had got the
dress this time. "Well, my dear son," said he, "didn't I tell you not to
worry yourself in the least, and that I would do all for you that your
heart could desire, or your mouth name?" Once after this the lad was
very sad again, so his giant father asked him: "Well, my son, what's the
matter this time, that you are so sad?" "Well, my dear father, because
we have only got a dress, and that is not enough for a wedding. What's
the use of it? What can I do with it?" "Never mind, don't worry about
that. Go into the inside closet, and on a shelf you will find a walnut,
bring it here." So the lad went and fetched the nut, and the giant split
it neatly in two, took out the kernel, folded up the dress (and I may
mention it here the dress consisted of only one piece), put it inside
the nut-shell, fitted the two halves together, and said to the lad:
"Well, my son, let me have your waistcoat, so that I may sew this nut
into the pocket; and be careful that no one opens it, neither thy
father, nor thy mother, nor any one in this world, because should any
one open it your life will be made wretched; you will be an outcast."
With this, the giant sewed the nut into the pocket, and put the
waistcoat on him. As they finished this, they heard a great clamping
noise, and a chinking (as of coins) outside. So the giant bade him to
look out of the window, and what did he see? He saw that in the
courtyard there was a lovely girl sitting in a carriage drawn by six
horses, and about her beautiful maids and outriders, and the giant said,
"You see, it is Fairy Elizabeth, your ladylove." So they went out at
once, and helped Fairy Elizabeth out of her carriage, then she ordered
the carriage and horses to go back, at once, to where they had come
from, and in a moment they disappeared, and there was no trace of them
left. They then went into the house, but the giant remained outside, and
he drew in the dust figures of a priest, and a cantor, and guests, and
they appeared at once. All went into the house, and the young folks got
wed, and a great wedding feast was celebrated. There was the
bridegroom's best man, and the groom's men, and the bride's duenna, and
all her bridesmaids, and the wedding feast lasted three full days. They
ate, drank, and enjoyed themselves, and when all was over the young
couple lived together in quiet happiness. Once more, however, the lad
became very sad, and the giant asked him: "Well, my dear son, why are
you sad again? You know that I will do all your heart can desire, or
your mouth name." "Well, my dear father," replied he, "how can I help
being sad; it is true we live together happily, but who knows how my
father and mother and brothers and sisters are at home? I should like
to go to see them."
"Well, my dear son," said the giant, "I will let you go; you two go
home, and you will find your relations keeping the third anniversary of
your death: they have gathered in all the golden corn, and become so
rich that they are now the greatest farmers in the village: each of your
brothers have their own home and they have become great men (six-ox
farmers) and have a whole flock of sheep." So the giant went outside,
and drew in the dust the figures of horses and carriage, coachman,
footmen, outriders, and court damsels, and they at once appeared; the
young couple sat in the carriage, and the giant told the lad if ought
happened to him he had only to think of one of these horses, and it
would at once bring him back here. With this they started, and they
arrived at home and, saw that the courtyard of his father's house was
full of tables, crowded with people sitting round them, but no one spoke
a word; they all were speechless so that you could not even hear a
whisper. The couple got out of the carriage, in front of the gate,
walked into the yard, and met an old man; it happened to be his father.
"May the Lord give you a good day, Sir!" said he; and the old man
replied, "May the Lord bless you also, my lord!" "Well sir," asked the
young man, "what is the meaning of all this feasting that I see, all
this eating and drinking, and yet no one speaks a word; is it a marriage
or a funeral feast?" "My lord, it is a burial feast," replied the old
man; "I had three sons, one was lost, and to-day we celebrate the third
anniversary of his death." "Would you recognise your son if he
appeared?" Upon hearing this his mother came forward and said, "To be
sure, my dearest and sweetest lord, because there is a mark under his
left armpit." With this the lad pulled up his sleeve and showed the
mark, and they at once recognised him as their lost son; the funeral
feast, thereupon, was at once changed into a grand wedding festival.
Then the lad called out to the carriage and horses "Go back where you
have come from," and in a moment there was not a trace of them left. His
father at once sent for the priest and the verger and they went through
all the ceremonies again, and whether the giant had celebrated them or
not, certainly the father did: the wedding feast was such a one as had
never been seen before! When they rose from the table they began the
bride's dance: in the first place they handed the bride to the cleverest
dancer, and whether he danced or not, most certainly the bride did: as
she danced her feet never touched the ground, and everyone who was there
looked at the bride only, and all whispered to each other, that no man
had ever seen such a sight in all his life. When the bride heard this
she said, "Hum, whether I dance now or whether I don't, I could dance
much better if anyone would return to me the dress I wore in my maiden
days." Whereupon they whispered to each other, "Where can that dress
be?" When the bride heard this she said, "Well, my souls, it is in a
nut-shell, sewn into my husband's waistcoat pocket, but no one will ever
be able to get it." "I can get it for you," said her mother-in-law,
"because I will give my son a sleeping-draught in wine and he will go to
sleep," and so she did, and the lad fell on the bed fast asleep; his
mother then got the nut from his pocket and gave it to her
daughter-in-law, who at once opened it, took the dress out, put it on,
and danced so beautifully, that, whether she danced the _first_ time or
not, she certainly danced this time; you could not imagine anything so
graceful. But, as it was so hot in the house, the windows were left
open, and Fairy Elizabeth turned a somersault, became a white pigeon,
and flew out of the window. Outside there was a pear tree, and she
settled upon the top of it, the people looking on in wonder and
astonishment; then she called out that she wanted to see her husband as
she wished to say a word or two to him, but the sleeping draught had not
yet lost its power, and they could not wake him, so they carried him out
in a sheet and put him under the tree and the pigeon dropped a tear on
his face; in a minute he awoke. "Can you hear me, sweet love of my
heart?" asked the pigeon, "if you ever want to meet me seek for me in
the town of Johara, in the country of Black Sorrow," with this she
spread her wings and flew away. Her husband gazed after her for a while
and then became so grieved that his heart nearly broke. What was he to
do now? He took leave of all and went and hid himself. When he got
outside of the gate he suddenly remembered what the giant had told him
about calling to memory one of the horses; he no sooner did so than it
appeared all ready saddled; he jumped upon it and thought he would like
to be at the giant's gate. In a moment he was there and the giant came
out to meet him. "Well, my dear son, didn't I tell you not to give that
nut to anyone?" The poor lad replied, in great sorrow, "Well, my dear
father, what am I to do now?" "Well, what did Fairy Elizabeth say when
she took leave of you?" "She said that if ever I wished to meet her
again I was to go to the town of Johara, in the country of Black
Sorrow." "Alas, my son!" said the giant, "I have never even heard the
name, so how could I direct you there? Be still, and come and live with
me, and get on as well as you can." But the poor lad said that he would
go, and he must go, in search of his wife as far as his eye could see.
"Well, if you wish to go, there are two more children of my parents
left, an elder brother and an elder sister. Take this; here's a mace. We
three children couldn't divide it amongst us, so it was left with me.
They will know by this that I have sent you; go first to my elder
brother, he is the king of all creeping things; perhaps he may be able
to help you." With this he drew in the dust the figure of a colt three
years old, and bade him sit on it, filled his bag with provisions, and
recommended him to the Lord. The lad went on and on, over seven times
seven countries, and even beyond them; he went on till the colt got so
old that it lost all its teeth; at last he arrived at the residence of
the king of all creeping things, went in, and greeted him, "May the Lord
give you a good day, my dear father!" And the old man replied, "The Lord
has brought you, my son. What is your errand?" And he replied, "I want
to go to the country of Black Sorrow, into the town of Johara if ever I
can find it." "Who are you?" asked the old man. With this he showed him
the mace, and the king at once recognised it and said, "Ah, my dear son,
I never heard the name of that town. I wish you had come last night,
because all my animals were here to greet me. But stay, I will call them
together again to-morrow morning, and we shall then see whether they can
give us any information." Next morning the old man got up very early,
took a whistle and blew it three times, and, in the twinkling of an eye
all the creeping things that existed in the world came forward. He asked
them, one by one, whether they knew aught of the town of Johara in the
country of Black Sorrow. But they all answered that they had never seen
it, and never even heard its name. So the poor lad was very sad, and did
not know what to do. He went outside to saddle his horse, but the poor
brute had died of old age. So the old man at once drew another in the
dust, and it was again a colt three years old. He saddled it for him,
filled his bag with provisions, and gave him directions where to find
his elder sister. With this the lad started off, and went over seven
times seven countries, and even beyond them, till at last, very late, he
arrived at the elder sister's of the giant and greeted her. She returned
it; and asked him, "What is your errand?" he replied that he was going
to the town of Johara in the country of Black Sorrow. "Well, my son,"
said the old woman, "and who has sent you to me?" "Don't you know this
mace?" and she recognised it at once, and said, "Alas! my dear son, I am
very pleased to see you, but I cannot direct you, because I never even
heard of the place. Why did you not come last night, as all the animals
were here then. But as my brother has sent you, I will call them all
together again to-night, and perhaps they will be able to tell you
something." With this, he went out to put his horse in the stable, and
found that it had grown so old that it hadn't a single tooth left; he
himself, too, was shrivelled up with age, like a piece of bacon rind,
and his hair was like snow. At eve the old woman said to him, "Lie down
in this bed!" when he lay down she put a heavy millstone upon him; she
then took a whip, went outside the door, and cracked it. It boomed like
a gun and the poor man inside was so startled that he lifted up the
millstone quite a span high. "Don't be afraid, my son," called out the
old woman, "I'm only going to crack it twice more," and she cracked it
again; whether it sounded the first time or not, it certainly did this
time, so that the poor man inside lifted the millstone quite a yard
high, and called out to the old woman not to crack that whip again, or
he should certainly die on the spot. But she cracked it again,
notwithstanding, and it sounded so loud, that whether the first two
sounded or not, this time it sounded so loud that the poor man kicked
the millstone right up to the ceiling. After that the old woman went in
and said to him, "You can get up now, as I am not going to crack my whip
any more." So he got up at once, and she went and opened the window, and
left the door wide open too. At once it became quite dark, the animals
came in such clouds that they quite obscured the sunlight; she let them
in one by one through the window, and read out the name of each one of
them from a list, and asked them if they knew where the country of Black
Sorrow was, but nobody knew it; so she dismissed them and shut the
window and door. The poor man was very sad now; he didn't know what to
do next or where he was to go. "There is nothing more to be done," said
the old woman; "but I will give you a colt, and fill your bag full of
provisions, and in heaven's name go back where you have come from." They
were still consulting when somebody knocked at the window and the old
woman called out, "Who's that?" "It is I, my dear queen," replied a
bird; and she began to scold it for being so late; but still she let it
in, hoping that it might tell them something. Lo! it was a lame
woodpecker. "Why are you so late?" she demanded, and the bird replied
that it was because it had such a bad foot. "Where did you get your leg
broken?" inquired the old woman. "In Johara, in the country of Black
Sorrow." "You are just the one we want," said the old woman; "I command
you to take this man on your back without delay and to carry him to the
very town where you have come from." The woodpecker began to make
excuses and said that it would rather not go there lest they should
break the other leg also; but the old woman stamped with her foot, and
so it was obliged to obey and at once set off with the man on its back,
whose third horse had already died; on they went over seven times seven
countries, and even beyond them, till they came to a very high mountain,
so high that it reached to heaven.
"Now then," said the woodpecker, "you had better get down here, as we
cannot get over this." "Well, but," said the poor man, "how did _you_
get over it?" "I? Through a hole." "Well then, take me also through a
hole." Then the woodpecker began to make excuses, that it could not take
him, first urging this reason and then that; so the poor man got angry
with the woodpecker, and began to dig his spurs into the bird's ribs
saying, "Go on, you must take me, and don't talk so much; it was you who
stole the golden wheat-ear from my stack." So what could the poor
woodpecker do but carry him. They arrived in the country of Black
Sorrow, and stopped in the very town of Johara. Then he sent the
woodpecker away, and went straight into the palace where Fairy Elizabeth
lived. As he entered Fairy Elizabeth sat on a golden sofa; he greeted
her, and told her he had come to claim her as his wife. "Is that why you
have come?" replied she. "Surely you don't expect me to be _your_ wife;
an old bent, shrivelled-up man like you. I will give you meat and drink,
and then in heaven's name go back to where you have come from." Hearing
this the poor man became very sad and didn't know what to do, and began
to cry bitterly; but in the meantime (not letting him know) Fairy
Elizabeth had ordered her maids to go out at once and gather all sorts
of rejuvenating plants, and to bring some youth-giving water, and to
prepare a bath for him as quickly as possible. Then she turned to the
old man again, and, in order to chaff him, said, "How can you wish a
beautiful young girl like me to marry such an ugly old man as you? Be
quick, eat, drink, and go back to where you have come from." In his
sorrow the poor man's heart was nearly broken, when all at once Fairy
Elizabeth said to him, "Well, dearest love of my youth, so that you may
not say that I am ungrateful to you for having taken the trouble to come
to me, and made all this long journey for me, I will give you a bath."
She motioned to the maids, they at once seized him, undressed him, and
put him into the tub; in a moment he was a young man again a hundred
times handsomer than he was in his youth; and while they were bathing
him they brought from a shop numerous costly dresses and clothed him
with them and took him to Fairy Elizabeth; man and wife embraced and
kissed each other again and again, and once more celebrated a grand
marriage festival, going through all the ceremonies again; after all
this was over they got into a carriage drawn by six horses, and went to
live with the giant, their father, but they never went again, not even
once, to the place where he had been betrayed. The giant received them
with great joy, and they are still alive to this-day, if they haven't
died since. May they be your guests to-morrow!
THE THREE PRINCES.
There was once, I don't know where, beyond seven times seven countries,
and at a cock's crow even beyond them--an immense, tall, quivering
poplar tree. This tree had seven times seventy-seven branches; on each
branch there were seven times seventy-seven crow-nests, and in each nest
seven times seventy-seven young crows. May those who don't listen
attentively to my tale, or who doze, have their eyes pecked out by all
those young crows; and those who listen with attention to my tale will
never behold the land of the Lord! There was once, I don't know where, a
king who had three sons who were so much like each other that not even
their mother could distinguish them from each other. The king sent his
three sons wandering; the three princes went, and went, and, on the
third day, they arrived at a vast forest, where they first met a
she-wolf with three whelps. "What are you doing here, princes, where not
even the birds ever come?" asked the wolf, "you can go no further,
because I and my whelps will tear you in pieces." "Don't harm us, wolf!"
said the princes, "but rather, let's have your whelps to go as our
servants." "I _will_ tear you to pieces," howled the wolf, and attacked
them; but the princes overcame the wolf, and took the three whelps with
them. They went and went further into the vast forest and met a bear
with three cubs, the next day. "What are you doing here, princes, where
not even a bird comes?" asked the bear; "you can go no further, because
I and my cubs will tear you in pieces." "Don't harm us, bear," said the
princes, "but rather let's have your three cubs to come as our
servants." "I _will_ tear you in pieces," roared the bear, and attacked
them, but the princes overcame the bear, and took the three cubs with
them. Again they went into the vast forest, and met a lioness and her
three cubs, on the third day. "What are you doing here, princes, where
not even a bird comes? you can go no further, because I and my cubs will
tear you in pieces." "Don't harm us, lioness," said the princes, "but
let's have your three cubs to come as our servants." "I _will_ tear you
in pieces," roared the lioness, and attacked them, but the princes
overcame the lioness, and took the three cubs as their servants: and
thus each prince had three servants, a lion, a bear, and a wolf. At last
they reached the outskirts of the vast forest, where the road divided
into three, under a tree, and here the eldest said, "Let us stick our
knives into the tree, and each start in a different direction; in a
year hence we will be back again, and whosoever's knife is covered with
blood, he is in danger, and the others must go in search of him."
"Agreed," said the others, and, sticking their knives into the tree,
started off in different directions.
After long wanderings the eldest came to a town which was wholly covered
with black cloth, and here he took lodgings with an old woman. "Why is
this town hung with black?" asked the prince. "Alas, we live in great
danger here!" said the old woman, "in the lake near the town lives the
dragon with seven heads, who vomits fire, and to him we have to give a
virgin every week, and to-morrow it is the king's daughter's turn, and
she has to go, and this is the reason why our town is covered with
black." "And is there no man who can help?" inquired the prince. "We
have not found one yet," said the old woman, "although our king has
promised his daughter, and after his death his realm, to the one who
kills the dragon." The prince did not say another word, but took a rest
and, afterwards, went towards the lake, and as he passed the royal
palace he saw the princess in the window weeping. The royal princess was
so beautiful that even the sun stopped before the window, in his course,
to admire her beauty. At last he reached the lake, and could already
hear, even at a distance, the dragon with seven heads roaring, so loudly
that the ground trembled. "How dare you approach me? You must die, even
had you seven souls!" roared the dragon, but instead of an answer the
prince threw his mace at him, with such force that it smashed one of his
heads on the spot, thereupon he attacked him with his sword, and also
set his dogs at him, and while he cut the dragon's heads off one by one,
his servants bit him to pieces, and thus killed the dragon, whose blood
formed a brook seven miles long. After this he drew a tooth out of each
head of the dragon and put them into his sabretache, and, as he was very
tired, he lay down amongst the bulrushes and went fast asleep with his
dogs. The Red Knight was watching the whole light from amongst the
bulrushes, and, seeing that the prince was asleep, he crept to him and
killed him, and quartered him, so that he might not revive, and, picking
up the dragon's seven heads, went off towards the town. As soon as the
Red Knight had gone the three dogs woke, and, seeing that their master
had been murdered, began to howl in their sorrow. "If we only had a
rope, so that we could tie him together. I know of a weed which would
bring him to life again," said the wolf. "If we only knew how to tie him
together, I would soon get a rope," said the lion. "I would tie him
together if I had a rope," said the bear; whereupon the lion ran to the
town, the wolf went in search of the weed, and the bear remained behind
to guard his master's body. The lion rushed into a ropemaker's and
roared, "Give me a rope, or I will tear you in pieces." The ropemaker,
in his fright, produced all the rope he had, and the lion rushed off
with a coil. In the meantime the wolf also returned with the weed, and
the bear tied the prince's body together, and the wolf anointed him.
When, all at once, the prince woke, and, rubbing his eyes, stood up.
"Well, I have slept a long time," said the prince, and as he saw that
the sun was setting he returned to the town with his servants, and, as
he again passed in front of the royal palace, he saw the princess once
more, who looked at him, smiling this time. The prince again took his
night's lodging with the old woman, and, as he got up next morning, the
whole town was covered with red cloth. "Why is the whole town covered
with red, now?" asked the prince. "Because the Red Knight killed the
dragon, and saved the royal princess, and he is to be married to her
to-day," replied the old woman. The prince thereupon went into the
palace, into which crowds of people were streaming. The king was just
leading the Red Knight to his daughter, and said, "Here, my daughter,
this is the hero who killed the dragon, and only the hoe and the spade
will separate him from you from this day." "My royal father," said the
princess, "that isn't the man that killed the dragon, and therefore I
cannot be his wife." "He did kill him," shouted the king, "and, in proof
of it, he brought the dragon's seven heads with him, and therefore you
have to be his wife, according to my promise." And there was a great
feast after this, but the princess sat crying at the table, and the
prince went home very downcast. "Give me some food, master, I'm hungry,"
said the wolf, when his master came home. "Go to the king and get some
food from his table," and the wolf went. The Red Knight sat on seven red
pillows, between the king and his daughter, but when he saw the wolf
enter, in his fright a pillow dropped from under him, and the wolf took
a full dish, and went away, and told his master what had happened. "Give
me some food, master. I'm hungry too," said the bear; and his master
sent him also to the palace, and as he entered the Red Knight in his
fright again dropped a pillow from under him. When the bear arrived at
home with the food, he told this to his master. And as the lion got
hungry too, he had to go for his food; and this time the Red Knight
dropped a third pillow, and could hardly be seen above the table. Now
the prince went to the palace himself, and as he entered every one of
the pillows dropped from under the Red Knight in his fright. "Majesty,"
said the prince, "do you believe that the Red Knight has killed the
dragon with seven heads?" "Yes," answered the king, "and he brought the
seven heads with him, they are here." "But look, majesty, whether there
is anything missing out of every head." The king examined the dragon's
heads, and exclaimed in astonishment: "Upon my word there is a tooth
missing from every head." "Quite so," said the prince, "and the seven
dragon teeth are here," and, taking them from his sabretache, he handed
the teeth to the king. "Your Majesty, if the Red Knight has killed the
dragon, how could I have obtained the teeth?" "What's the meaning of
this?" inquired the king, in anger, of the Red Knight; "who killed the
dragon?" "Pardon!" implored the knight. In his fear he confessed all,
and the king had him horsewhipped out of the palace, and sent the dogs
after him.
He bade the prince sit down at once by the side of his daughter, as her
bridegroom; and in joyful commemoration of the event they celebrated
such a wedding that the yellow juice flowed from Henczida to Bonczida.
And the prince and princess lived happily afterwards as man and wife.
However, it happened once that as the prince went hunting with his three
servants, and after a long walk strolled into the wood, he became tired
and hungry; so he made a fire under a tree, and sat down at it, and
fried some bacon; when suddenly he heard some one call out with a
trembling voice in the tree: "Oh! how cold I am." The prince looked up,
and saw an old woman on the top of the tree shivering. "Come down, old
mother," said he. But the old woman said, still shivering with cold,
"I'm afraid to come down, because your dogs will kill me; but if you
will strike them with this rod, which I throw down to you, they will not
touch me." And the good prince, never thinking that the old woman was a
witch, struck his servants with the rod, who, without him noticing it,
turned into stone. Seeing this, the old woman came down from the tree,
and, having prepared a branch as a spit, she caught a toad. She drew it
on the spit, and held it to the fire, close to the bacon; and when the
prince remonstrated and tried to drive the old woman away, she threw the
toad into his face, whereupon the prince fainted. As his servants could
not assist him, the witch killed him, cut him up in pieces, salted him,
and put him into a cask. The princess was waiting for her husband in
great sorrow; but days passed, and still he did not come, and the poor
princess bewailed him day and night.
In the meantime, the second prince returned to the tree in which they
had stuck their knives; and, finding that his elder brother's knife was
covered with blood, started in search of him. When he came to the town,
it was again covered with black. He also took lodgings for the night
with the old woman, and on inquiring she told him the whole story of
the first prince, and also informed him that the town was draped in
black because the prince was lost while hunting. The second prince at
once came to the conclusion that it could be no one else but his elder
brother, and went to the palace. The princess, mistaking him for her
husband in her joy, threw her arms round his neck. "Charming princess, I
am not your husband," said the prince, "but your husband's younger
brother." The princess, however, would not believe him, as she could not
imagine how one man could so resemble another; therefore she chatted
with him the whole day, as if with her husband, and, night having set
in, he had to get into the same bed with her. The prince, however,
placed his unsheathed sword between himself and his sister-in-law,
saying: "If you touch me, this sword will at once cut off your hand."
The princess was very sorry on hearing this, but, in order to try, she
threw her handkerchief over the prince, and the sword cut it in two at
once, whereupon the princess burst out crying, and cried the whole
night. Next morning the prince went out in search of his brother, and
went out hunting in the same wood where he had heard his brother was
lost. But, unfortunately, he met the witch, and was treated in the same
way as his brother. She killed and salted him also.
After this the youngest prince returned to the tree in which the knives
were, and, finding both his brothers' knives covered with blood, went in
the direction in which his eldest brother had gone. He came to the town,
which was still draped in black, and learned all from the old woman; he
went to the palace, where the princess mistook him too for her husband.
He had to sleep with her, but, like his brother, placed a sword between
them, and, to the great sorrow of the princess, he, too, went out
hunting the next morning. Having become tired, he made a fire, and began
to fry some bacon, when the witch threw him the rod; but the prince
luckily discovered in the thicket the six petrified dogs, and instead of
touching his own dogs with the rod, he touched those which had been
turned into stone, and all six came to life again. The witch was not
aware of this and came down from the tree, and the brutes seized her on
the spot, and compelled her to bring their masters to life again. Then
the two princes came to life again. In their joy all three embraced each
other, and their servants tore the witch in pieces. Whereupon they went
home, and now the joy of the princess was full, because her husband and
her brothers-in-law had all returned, and she had no longer any fear
that the sword would be placed in the bed. On account of the joyful
event the town was again draped in red cloth. The eldest prince lived
happily with his wife for a long time, and later on became king. His two
brothers went home safely.
THE THREE DREAMS.
There was once, I don't know where, even beyond the Operencziás Sea, a
poor man, who had three sons. Having got up one morning, the father
asked the eldest one, "What have you dreamt, my son?" "Well, my dear
father," said he, "I sat at a table covered with many dishes, and I ate
so much that when I patted my belly all the sparrows in the whole
village were startled by the sound." "Well, my son," said the father,
"if you had so much to eat, you ought to be satisfied; and, as we are
rather short of bread, you shall not have anything to eat to-day." Then
he asked the second one, "What have you dreamt, my son?" "Well, my dear
father, I bought such splendid boots with spurs, that when I put them on
and knocked my heels together I could be heard over seven countries."
"Well, my good son," answered the father, "you have got good boots at
last, and you won't want any for the winter." At last he asked the
youngest as to what he had dreamt, but this one was reticent, and did
not care to tell; his father ordered him to tell what it was he had
dreamt, but he was silent. As fair words were of no avail the old man
tried threats, but without success. Then he began to beat the lad. "To
flee is shameful, but very useful," they say. The lad followed this good
advice, and ran away, his father after him with a stick. As they reached
the street the king was just passing down the high road, in a carriage
drawn by six horses with golden hair and diamond shoes. The king
stopped, and asked the father why he was ill-treating the lad. "Your
Majesty, because he won't tell me his dream." "Don't hurt him, my good
man," said the monarch; "I'll tell you what, let the lad go with me, and
take this purse; I am anxious to know his dream, and will take him with
me." The father consented, and the king continued his journey, taking
the lad with him. Arriving at home, he commanded the lad to appear
before him, and questioned him about his dream, but the lad would not
tell him. No imploring, nor threatening, would induce him to disclose
his dream. The king grew angry with the lad's obstinacy, and said, in a
great rage, "You good-for-nothing fellow, to disobey your king, you must
know, is punishable by death! You shall die such a lingering death that
you will have time to think over what disobedience to the king means."
He ordered the warders to come, and gave them orders to take the lad
into the tower of the fortress, and to immure him alive in the wall. The
lad listened to the command in silence, and only the king's pretty
daughter seemed pale, who was quite taken by the young fellow's
appearance, and gazed upon him in silent joy. The lad was tall, with
snow-white complexion, and had dark eyes and rich raven locks. He was
carried away, but the princess was determined to save the handsome lad's
life, with whom she had fallen in love at first sight; and she bribed
one of the workmen to leave a stone loose, without its being noticed, so
that it could be easily taken out and replaced; and so it was done!
And the pretty girl fed her sweetheart in his cell in secret. One day
after this, it happened that the powerful ruler of the dog-headed
Tartars gave orders that seven white horses should be led into the other
king's courtyard; the animals were so much alike that there was not a
hair to choose between them, and each of the horses was one year older
than another; at the same time the despot commanded that he should
choose the youngest from among them, and the others in the order of
their ages, including the oldest; if he could not do this, his country
should be filled with as many Tartars as there were blades of grass in
the land; that he should be impaled; and his daughter become the
Tartar-chief's wife. The king on hearing this news was very much
alarmed, held a council of all the wise men in his realm, but all in
vain: and the whole court was in sorrow and mourning. The princess, too,
was sad, and when she took the food to her sweetheart she did not smile
as usual, but her eyes were filled with tears: he seeing this inquired
the cause; the princess told him the reason of her grief, but he
consoled her, and asked her to tell her father that he was to get seven
different kinds of oats put into seven different dishes, the oats to be
the growths of seven different years; the horses were to be let in and
they would go and eat the oats according to their different ages, and
while they were feeding they must put a mark on each of the horses. And
so it was done, The horses were sent back and the ages of them given,
and the Tartar monarch found the solution to be right.
But then it happened again that a rod was sent by him both ends of which
were of equal thickness; the same threat was again repeated in case the
king should not find out which end had grown nearest the trunk of the
tree. The king was downcast and the princess told her grief to the lad,
but he said, "Don't worry yourself, princess, but tell your father to
measure carefully the middle of the rod and to hang it up by the middle
on a piece of twine, the heavier end of it will swing downwards, that
end will be the one required." The king did so and sent the rod back
with the end marked as ordered. The Tartar monarch shook his head but
was obliged to admit that it was right. "I will give them another
trial," said he in a great rage; "and, as I see that there must be some
one at the king's court who wishes to defy me, we will see who is the
stronger." Not long after this, an arrow struck the wall of the royal
palace, which shook it to its very foundation, like an earthquake; and
great was the terror of the people, which was still more increased when
they found that the Tartar monarch's previous threats were written on
the feathers of the arrow, which threats were to be carried out if the
king had nobody who could draw out the arrow and shoot it back. The king
was more downcast than ever, and never slept a wink: he called together
all the heroes of his realm, and every child born under a lucky star,
who was born either with a caul or with a tooth, or with a grey lock; he
promised to the successful one, half of his realm and his daughter, if
he fulfilled the Tartar king's wish. The princess told the lad, in sad
distress, the cause of her latest grief, and he asked her to have the
secret opening closed, so that their love might not be found out, and
that no trace be left; and then she was to say, that she dreamt that the
lad was still alive, and that he would be able to do what was needed,
and that they were to have the wall opened. The princess did as she was
told; the king was very much astonished, but at the same time treated
the matter as an idle dream in the beginning. He had almost entirely
forgotten the lad, and thought that he had gone to dust behind the walls
long ago. _But in times of perplexity, when there is no help to be found
in reality, one is apt to believe dreams_, and in his fear about his
daughter's safety, the king at last came to the conclusion that the
dream was not altogether impossible. He had the wall opened; and a
gallant knight stepped from the hole. "You have nothing more to fear, my
king," said the lad, who was filled with hope, and, dragging out the
arrow with his right hand, he shot it towards Tartary with such force
that all the finials of the royal palace dropped down with the force of
the shock.
Seeing this, the Tartar monarch was not only anxious to see, but also to
make the acquaintance of him who did all these things. The lad at once
offered to go, and started on the journey with twelve other knights,
disguising himself so that he could not be distinguished from his
followers; his weapons, his armour, and everything on him was exactly
like those around him. This was done in order to test the magic power of
the Tartar chief. The lad and his knights were received with great pomp
by the monarch, who, seeing that all were attired alike, at once
discovered the ruse; but, in order that he might not betray his
ignorance, did not dare to inquire who the wise and powerful knight was,
but trusted to his mother, who had magic power, to find him out. For
this reason the magic mother put them all in the same bedroom for the
night, she concealing herself in the room. The guests lay down, when one
of them remarked, with great satisfaction, "By Jove! what a good cellar
the monarch has!" "His wine is good, indeed," said another, "because
there is human blood mixed with it." The magic mother noted from which
bed the sound had come; and, when all were asleep, she cut off a lock
from the knight in question, and crept out of the room unnoticed, and
informed her son how he could recognise the true hero. The guests got up
next morning, but our man soon noticed that he was marked, and in order
to thwart the design, every one of the knights cut off a lock. They sat
down to dinner, and the monarch was not able to recognise the hero.
The next night the monarch's mother again stole into the bedroom, and
this time a knight exclaimed, "By Jove! what good bread the Tartar
monarch has!" "It's very good, indeed," said another, "because there is
woman's milk in it." When they went to sleep, she cut off the end of the
moustache from the knight who slept in the bed where the voice came
from, and made this sign known to her son; but the knights were more on
their guard than before, and having discovered what the sign was, each
of them cut off as much from their moustache as the knight's who was
marked; and so once more the monarch could not distinguish between them.
The third night the old woman again secreted herself, when one of the
knights remarked, "By Jove! what a handsome man the monarch is!" "He is
handsome, indeed, because he is a love-child," said another. When they
went to sleep, she made a scratch on the visor of the knight who spoke
last, and told her son. Next morn the monarch saw that all visors were
marked alike. At last the monarch took courage and spoke thus: "I can
see there is a cleverer man amongst you than I; and this is why I am so
much more anxious to know him. I pray, therefore, that he make himself
known, so that I may see him, and make the acquaintance of the only
living man who wishes to be wiser and more powerful than myself." The
lad stepped forward and said, "I do not wish to be wiser or more
powerful than you; but I have only carried out what you bade me do; and
I am the one who has been marked for the last three nights." "Very well,
my lad, now I wish you to prove your words. Tell me, then, how is it
possible there can be human blood in my wine?" "Call your cupbearer,
your majesty, and he will explain it to you," said the lad. The official
appeared hastily, and told the king how, when filling the tankards with
the wine in question, he cut his finger with his knife, and thus the
blood got into the wine. "Then how is it that there is woman's milk in
my bread?" asked the monarch. "Call the woman who baked the bread, and
she will tell," said the lad. The woman was questioned, and narrated
that she was nursing a baby, and that milk had collected in her breasts;
and as she was kneading the dough, the breast began to run, and some
milk dropped into it. The magic mother had previously informed her son,
when telling him what happened the three nights, and now confirmed her
previous confession that it was true that the monarch was a love-child.
The monarch was not able to keep his temper any longer, and spoke in a
great rage and very haughtily, "I cannot tolerate the presence of a man
who is my equal: either he or I will die. Defend yourself, lad!" and
with these words he flashed his sword, and dashed at the lad. But in
doing so, he accidentally slipped and fell, and the lad's life was
saved. Before the former had time to get on his feet, the lad pierced
him through, cut off his head, and presented it on the point of his
sword to the king at home. "These things that have happened to me are
what I dreamt," said the victorious lad; "but I could not divulge my
secret beforehand, or else it would not have been fulfilled." The king
embraced the lad, and presented to him his daughter and half his realm;
and they perhaps still live in happiness to-day, if they have not died
since.
CSABOR UR.
There was once a young prince who was, perhaps, not quite twenty-five
years old, tall, and his slim figure was like a pine tree; his forehead
was sorrowful, like the dark pine; his thunder-like voice made his eyes
flash; his dress and his armour were black, because the prince, who was
known all over the world simply as Csabor Ur (Mr. Csabor), was serving
with the picked heroes of the grand king, and who had no other ornaments
besides his black suit but a gold star, which the grand king had
presented to him in the German camp for having saved his life. The fame
of Csabor Ur's bravery was great, and also of his benevolence, because
he was kind to the poor, and the grand king very often had to scold him
for distributing his property in a careless way. The priests, however,
could not boast of Csabor Ur's alms, because he never gave any to them,
nor did he ever give them any money for masses, and for this reason the
whole hierarchy was angry with him, especially the head priest at the
great king's court; but Csabor Ur being a great favourite of the great
king, not even a priest dared to offend him openly, but in secret the
pot was boiling for him. One cold autumn the great king arrived at the
royal palace from the camp with Csabor Ur, the palace standing on the
bank of a large sheet of water, and before they had taken the saddles
off the stallions the great king thus addressed Csabor Ur: "My lad, rest
yourself during the night, and at dawn, as soon as day breaks, hurry off
with your most trusty men into Roumania beyond the snow-covered
mountains to old Demeter, because I hear that my Roumanian neighbours
are not satisfied with my friendship, and are intriguing with the Turks:
find out, my lad, how many weeks the world will last there (what's the
news?) and warn the old fox to mind his tail, because I may perhaps send
him a rope instead of the archiepiscopal pallium." Csabor Ur received
the grand king's order with great joy, and, having taken leave of Dame
Margit (Margaret), dashed off on his bay stallion over the sandy plains
to the banks of the Olt, and from there he crossed over during a severe
frost beyond the snow-covered mountains; he arrived at the house of
Jordán Boer, the king's confidential man, whose guest he was, and here
he heard of old Demeter's cunning in all its details, and also that he
was secretly encouraged by the great king's head priest to plot against
the sovereign; hearing this, Csabor Ur started on his journey, and
arrived on the fourth day in Roumania, where he became the bishop's
guest, by whom he was apparently received cordially; the old dog being
anxious to mislead with his glib tongue Csabor Ur, about the events
there, but it was very difficult to hoodwink the great king's man.
Csabor Ur never gave any answer to the bishop's many words, and
therefore made the bishop believe that he had succeeded in deceiving
Csabor Ur; but he was more on his guard than ever and soon discovered
that every night crowds of people gathered into the cathedral; therefore
one night he also stole in there dressed in the costume of the country,
and to his horror heard how the people were conspiring with the bishop
against the great king, and how they were plotting an attack with the
aid of the Turkish army.
Csabor Ur listened to these things in great silence and sent one of his
servants with a letter to the great king next day, in which he described
minutely the whole state of affairs. The spies, however, laid in ambush
for the servant, attacked and killed him, took Csabor Ur's letter from
him, and handed it to the bishop, who learnt from its contents that
Csabor Ur had stolen into the cathedral every night. He, therefore, had
the large oak doors closed as soon as the congregation had assembled on
the same night, and in an infuriated sermon he informed the people that
there was a traitor among them. Hearing this everybody demanded his
death, and they were ready to take their oath on the Holy Cross that
they were not traitors. Whereupon the bishop ordered a stool to be
placed on the steps of the altar, sat down, and administered the oath to
all present. Only one man, in a brown fur-cloak, did not budge from the
side of the stoup. The bishop, therefore, addressed him thus: "Then who
are you? Why don't you come to me?" But the dark cloak did not move, and
the bishop at once knew who it was and ordered the man to be bound;
whereupon the multitude rushed forward to carry out his command.
Thereupon the man dropped his brown cloak; and, behold, Csabor Ur stood
erect--like a dark pine--with knitted brows and flashing eyes, holding
in his right hand a copper mace with a gilt handle, his left resting on
a broad two-edged sword. The multitude stopped, shuddering, like the
huntsman, who in pursuit of hares suddenly finds a bear confronting him;
but in the next moment the crowd rushed at their prey. Csabor Ur, after
cutting down about thirty of them, dropped down dead himself. His blood
spurted up high upon the column, where it can still be seen in the
cathedral--to the left of the entrance--although the Roumanian priests
tried their best to whitewash it. The great king heard of this, had the
head priest imprisoned, and went with an immense army to revenge Csabor
Ur's murder. With his army came also Dame Margit, dressed in men's
clothes, who wept at the foot of the blood-bespurt column till one day
after mass they picked her up dead from the flags.
THE DEVIL AND THE THREE SLOVÁK LADS.
There was once, I don't know where, in Slavonia, a man who had three
sons. "Well, my sons," said he one day to them, "go to see the land; to
see the world. There is a country where even the yellow-hammer bathes in
wine, and where even the fence of the yards is made of strings of
sausages; but if you wish to get on there you must first learn the
language of the country." The three lads were quite delighted with the
description of the wonderful country, and were ready to start off at
once. The father accompanied them as far as the top of a high mountain;
it took them three days to get to the top, and when they reached the
summit they were on the border of the happy land: here the father slung
an empty bag on every one of the lads' shoulders, and, pointing out to
the eldest one the direction, exclaimed, "Ah! can you see Hungary?" and
with this he took leave of them quite as satisfied as if he had then
handed them the key of happiness. The three lads went on and walked into
Hungary; and their first desire was to learn Hungarian, in accord with
their father's direction. The moment they stepped over the border they
met a man, who inquired where they were going? They informed him, "to
learn Hungarian." "Don't go any further, my lads," said the man, "the
school year consists of three days with me, at the end of which you will
have acquired the requisite knowledge." The three lads stayed; and at
the end of the three days one of them had happily learned by heart the
words "we three"; the other, "for a cheese"; and the third, "that's
right." The three Slovák lads were delighted, and wouldn't learn any
more; and so they continued on their journey. They walked till they came
to a forest, where they found a murdered man by the road-side; they
looked at him, and to their astonishment they recognised the murdered
man as their late master whom they had just left; and while they were
sighing, not knowing what to do, the rural policeman arrived on the
spot. He began to question them about the murdered man, saying, "Who
killed him?" The first, not knowing anything else, answered, "We three."
"Why?" asked the policeman. "For a cheese," replied the second. "If this
is so," growled the policeman, "I shall have to put you in irons."
Whereupon the third said, "That's right." The lads were escorted by the
policeman, who also intended to get assistance to carry away the dead
man; but the moment they left, the dead man jumped up, shook himself,
and regained his ordinary appearance, and became a sooty devil, with
long ears and tail, who stood laughing at the lads, being highly amused
at their stupidity, which enabled him to deceive them so easily.
THE COUNT'S DAUGHTER.
There was once, I don't know where, an old tumble-down oven, there was
nothing left of its sides; there was also once a town in which a
countess lived, with an immense fortune. This countess had an
exceedingly pretty daughter, who was her sole heiress. The fame of her
beauty and her riches being very great the marrying magnates swarmed
about her. Among others the three sons of a count used to come to the
house, whose castle stood outside the town in a pretty wood. These
young men appeared to be richer than one would have supposed from their
property, but no one knew where and how the money came to them. The
three young men were invited almost every day to the house, but the
countess and her daughter never visited them in return, although the
young lady was continually asked by them. For a long time the girl did
not accept their invitation, till one day she was preparing for a walk
into the wood, in which the young counts' castle was supposed to be: her
mother was surprised to hear that she intended to go into the wood, but
as the young lady didn't say exactly where she was going her mother
raised no objection. The girl went, and the prettiness of the wood, and
also her curiosity enticed her to go in further and further till at last
she discovered the turrets of a splendid castle; being so near to it her
curiosity grew stronger, and at last she walked into the courtyard.
Everything seemed to show that the castle was inhabited, but still she
did not see a living soul; the girl went on till she came to the main
entrance, the stairs were of white marble, and the girl, quite dazzled
at the splendour she beheld, went up, counting the steps; "one hundred,"
said the girl, in a half whisper, when she reached the first flight, and
tarried on the landing. Here she looked round when her attention fell on
a bird in a cage. "Girl, beware!" said the bird. But the girl, dazzled
by the glitter, and drawn on by her curiosity, again began to mount the
stairs, counting them, without heeding the bird's words. "One hundred,"
again said the girl, as she tarried on the next landing, but still no
one was to be seen, but thinking that she might find some one she opened
the first door, which revealed a splendour quite beyond all she had ever
imagined, a sight such as she had never seen before, but still no one
appeared. She went into another room and there amongst other furniture
she also found three bedsteads, "this is the three young men's bedroom,"
she thought, and went on. The next room into which she stepped was full
of weapons of every possible description; the girl stared and went on,
and then she came to a large hall which was full of all sorts of
garments, clerical, military, civilian, and also women's dresses. She
went on still further and in the next room she found a female figure,
made up of razors, which, with extended arms as it seemed, was placed
above a deep hole. The girl was horror-struck at the sight and her fear
drove her back; trembling she went back through the rooms again, but
when she came into the bedroom she heard male voices. Her courage fled
and she could go no further, but hearing some footsteps approach she
crept under one of the beds. The men entered, whom she recognised as the
three sons of the count, bringing with them a beautiful girl, whom the
trembling girl recognised by her voice as a dear friend; they stripped
her of all, and as they could not take off a diamond ring from her
little finger, one of the men chopped it off and the finger rolled under
the bed where the girl lay concealed. One of the men began to look for
the ring when another said "You will find it some other time," and so he
left off looking for it. Having quite undressed the girl they took her
to the other room, when after a short lapse of time she heard some faint
screaming, and it appeared to her as if the female figure of razors had
snapped together, and the mangled remains of the unfortunate victim were
heard to drop down into the deep hole. The three brothers came back and
one of them began to look for the ring: the cold sweat broke out on the
poor girl hiding under the bed. "Never mind, it is ours new and you can
find it in the morning," said one of the men, and bade the others go to
bed; and so it happened: the search for the ring was put off till next
day. They went to bed and the girl began to breathe more freely in her
hiding-place; she began to grope about in silence and found the ring and
secreted it in her dress, and hearing that the three brothers were fast
asleep, she stole out noiselessly leaving the door half ajar. The next
day the three brothers again visited the countess when the daughter
told them that she had a dream as if she had been to their castle. She
told them how she went up a flight of marble stairs till she counted
100, and up the next flight when she again counted 100. The brothers
were charmed and very much surprised at the dream and assured her that
it was exactly like their home. Then she told them how she went from one
room to another and what she saw, but when she came in her dream as far
as the razor-maid they began to feel uneasy and grew suspicious, and
when she told them the scene with the girl, and in proof of her tale
produced the finger with the ring, the brothers were terrified and
exclaiming, "We are betrayed!" took flight; but everything was arranged,
and the servants, who were ordered to watch, caught them. After an
investigation all their numberless horrible deeds were brought to light
and they were beheaded.
THE SPEAKING GRAPES, THE SMILING APPLE, AND THE TINKLING APRICOT.
There was once, I don't know where, beyond seven times seven countries,
a king who had three daughters. One day the king was going to the
market, and thus inquired of his daughters: "What shall I bring you from
the market, my dear daughters?" The eldest said, "A golden dress, my
dear royal father;" the second said, "A silver dress for me;" the third
said, "Speaking grapes, a smiling apple, and a tinkling apricot for me."
"Very well, my daughters," said the king, and went. He bought the
dresses for his two elder daughters in the market, as soon as he
arrived; but, in spite of all exertions and inquiries, he could not find
the speaking grapes, the smiling apple, and tinkling apricot. He was
very sad that he could not get what his youngest daughter wished, for
she was his favourite; and he went home. It happened, however, that the
royal carriage stuck fast on the way home, although his horses were of
the best breed, for they were such high steppers that they kicked the
stars. So he at once sent for extra horses to drag out the carriage; but
all in vain, the horses couldn't move either way. He gave up all hope,
at last, of getting out of the position, when a dirty, filthy pig came
that way, and grunted, "Grumph! grumph! grumph! King, give me your
youngest daughter, and I will help you out of the mud." The king, never
thinking what he was promising, and over-anxious to get away, consented,
and the pig gave the carriage a push with its nose, so that carriage and
horses at once moved out of the mud. Having arrived at home the king
handed the dresses to his two daughters, and was now sadder than ever
that he had brought nothing for his favourite daughter; the thought also
troubled him that he had promised her to an unclean animal.
After a short time the pig arrived in the courtyard of the palace
dragging a wheelbarrow after it, and grunted, "Grumph! grumph! grumph!
King, I've come for your daughter." The king was terrified, and, in
order to save his daughter, he had a peasant girl dressed in rich
garments, embroidered with gold, sent her down and had her seated in the
wheelbarrow: the pig again grunted, "Grumph! grumph! grumph! King, this
is not your daughter;" and, taking the barrow, it tipped her out. The
king, seeing that deceit was of no avail, sent down his daughter, as
promised, but dressed in ragged, dirty tatters, thinking that she would
not please the pig; but the animal grunted in great joy, seized the
girl, and placed her in the wheelbarrow. Her father wept that, through a
careless promise, he had brought his favourite daughter to such a fate.
The pig went on and on with the sobbing girl, till, after a long
journey, it stopped before a dirty pig-stye and grunted, "Grumph!
grumph! grumph! Girl, get out of the wheelbarrow." The girl did as she
was told. "Grumph! grumph! grumph!" grunted the pig again; "go into
your new home." The girl, whose tears, now, were streaming like a brook,
obeyed; the pig then offered her some Indian corn that it had in a
trough, and also its litter which consisted of some old straw, for a
resting-place. The girl had not a wink of sleep for a long time, till at
last, quite worn out with mental torture, she fell asleep.
Being completely exhausted with all her trials, she slept so soundly
that she did not wake till next day at noon. On awaking, she looked
round, and was very much astonished to find herself in a beautiful
fairy-like palace, her bed being of white silk with rich purple curtains
and golden fringes. At the first sign of her waking maids appeared all
round her, awaiting her orders, and bringing her costly dresses. The
girl, quite enchanted with the scene, dressed without a word, and the
maids accompanied her to her breakfast in a splendid hall, where a young
man received her with great affection. "I am your husband, if you accept
me, and whatever you see here belongs to you," said he; and after
breakfast led her into a beautiful garden. The girl did not know
_whether it was a dream she saw or reality_, and answered all the
questions put to her by the young man with evasive and chaffing replies.
At this moment they came to that part of the garden which was laid out
as an orchard, and the bunches of grapes began to speak "Our beautiful
queen, pluck some of us." The apples smiled at her continuously, and the
apricots tinkled a beautiful silvery tune. "You see, my love," said the
handsome youth, "here you have what you wished for--what your father
could not obtain. You may know now, that once I was a monarch but I was
bewitched into a pig, and I had to remain in that state till a girl
wished for speaking grapes, a smiling apple, and a tinkling apricot. You
are the girl, and I have been delivered; and if I please you, you can be
mine for ever." The girl was enchanted with the handsome youth and the
royal splendour, and consented. They went with great joy to carry the
news to their father, and to tell him of their happiness.
THE THREE ORANGES.
There was once, I don't know where, a king, who had three sons. They had
reached a marriageable age, but could not find any one who suited them,
or who pleased their father. "Go, my sons, and look round in the world,"
said the king, "and try to find wives somewhere else." The three sons
went away, and at bed-time they came to a small cottage, in which a
very, very old woman lived. She asked them about the object of their
journey, which the princes readily communicated to her. The old woman
provided them with the necessaries for the journey as well as she could,
and before taking leave of her guests, gave them an orange each, with
instructions to cut them open only in the neighbourhood of water, else
they would suffer great, very great damage. The three princes started on
their way again, and the eldest not being able to restrain his curiosity
as to what sort of fruit it could be, or to conceive what harm could
possibly happen if he cut it open in a place where there was no water
near: cut into the orange; and lo! a beautiful girl, such as he had
never seen before, came out of it, and exclaimed, "Water! let me have
some water, or I shall die on the spot." The prince ran in every
direction to get water, but could not find any, and the beautiful girl
died in a short time, as the old woman had said. The princes went on,
and now the younger one began to be inquisitive as to what could be in
his orange.
They had just sat down to luncheon on a plain, under a tall, leafy tree,
when it appeared to them that they could see a lake not very far off.
"Supposing there is a girl in the fruit, I can fulfil her wish," he
thought to himself, and not being able to restrain his curiosity any
longer, as to what sort of girl there could be inside, he cut his
orange; and lo! a girl, very much more beautiful than the first, stepped
out of it, and called out for water, in order to save her life. He had
previously sent his brother to what he thought was a lake; and, as he
could not wait for his return with the water, he ran off himself, quite
out of breath, but the further he ran the further the lake appeared to
be off, because it was only a mirage. He rushed back to the tree nearly
beside himself, in order to see whether the girl was yet alive, but only
found her body lifeless, and quite cold.
The two elder brothers, seeing that they had lost what they had been
searching for, and having given up all hope of finding a prettier one,
returned in great sorrow to their father's house, and the youngest
continued his journey alone. He wandered about until, after much
fatigue, he came to the neighbourhood of some town, where he found a
well. He had no doubt that there was a girl in his orange also, so he
took courage, and cut it; and, indeed, a girl, who was a hundred times
prettier than the first two, came out of it. She called out for water,
and the prince gave her some at once, and death had no power over her.
The prince now hurried into the town to purchase rich dresses for his
love; and that no harm might happen to her during his absence, he made
her sit up in a tree with dense foliage, the boughs of which overhung
the well.
As soon as the prince left, a gipsy woman came to the well for water.
She looked into the well, and saw in the water the beautiful face of
the girl in the tree. At first she fancied that she saw the image of her
own face, and felt very much flattered; but soon found out her mistake,
and looking about discovered the pretty girl in the tree. "What are you
waiting for, my pretty maid?" inquired the gipsy woman with a cunning
face. The girl told her her story, whereupon the gipsy woman, shamming
kindness, climbed up the tree, and pushed the pretty girl into the well,
taking her place in the tree, when the pretty girl sank. The next moment
a beautiful little gold fish appeared swimming in the water; the gipsy
woman recognised it as the girl, and, being afraid that it might be
dangerous to her, tried to catch it, when suddenly the prince appeared
with the costly dresses, so she at once laid her plans to deceive him:
the prince immediately noticed the difference between her and the girl
he had left; but she succeeded in making him believe that for a time
after having left the fairy world, she had to lose her beauty, but that
she would recover it the sooner the more he loved her: so the prince was
satisfied and went home to his father's house with the woman he found,
and actually loved her in hopes of her regaining her former beauty. The
good food and happy life, and also the pretty dresses, improved the
sunburnt woman's looks a little: the prince imagining that his wife's
prediction was going to be fulfilled, felt still more attached to her,
and was anxious to carry out all her wishes.
The woman, however, could not forget the little gold fish, and therefore
feigned illness, saying that she would not get better till she had eaten
of the liver of a gold fish, which was to be found in such and such a
well: the prince had the fish caught at once, and the princess having
partaken of the liver, got better, and felt more cheerful than before.
It happened, however, that one scale of the fish had been cast out in
the courtyard with the water, and from it a beautiful tree began to
grow; the princess noticed it and found out the reason, how the tree
got there, and again fell ill, and said that she could not get better
until they burnt the tree, and cooked her something by the flames. This
wish also was fulfilled, and she got better; it happened, however that
one of the woodcutters took a square piece of the timber home to his
wife, who used it as a lid for a milk jug: these people lived not very
far from the royal palace, and were poor, the woman herself keeping the
house, and doing all servants' work.
One day she left her house very early, without having put anything in
order, and without having done her usual household work; when she came
home in the evening, she found all clean, and in the best order; she was
very much astonished, and could not imagine how it came to pass; and it
happened thus on several days, whenever she had not put her house in
order before going out. In order to find out how these things were
accomplished, one day she purposely left her home in disorder, but did
not go far, but remained outside peeping through the keyhole, to see
what would happen. As soon as everything became quiet in the house, the
woman saw that the lid of the milk jug which was standing in the window,
began to move with gentle noise, and in a few moments a beautiful fairy
stepped out of it, who first combed her golden tresses, and performed
her toilet, and afterwards put the whole house in order. The woman, in
order to trap the fairy before she had time to retransform herself,
opened the door abruptly. They both seemed astonished, but the kind and
encouraging words of the woman soon dispelled the girl's fear, and now
she related her whole story, how she came into the world, how she became
a gold fish, and then a tree, and how she used to walk out of the wooden
lid of the milk jug to tidy the house; she also enlightened the woman as
to who the present queen was. The woman listened to all in great
astonishment, and in order to prevent the girl from slipping back into
the lid, she had previously picked it up, when she entered, and now
threw it into the fire. She at once went to the prince, and told him
the whole story.
The prince had already grown suspicious about his wife's beauty, which
had been very long in returning, and now he was quite sure that she was
a cheat: he sent for the girl and recognised her at once as the pretty
fairy whom he had left in the tree. The gipsy woman was put into the
pillory, and the prince married the pretty girl, and they lived ever
after in happiness.
THE YOUNGEST PRINCE AND THE YOUNGEST PRINCESS.
There was once, I don't know where, an old petticoat a hundred years
old, and in this petticoat a tuck, in which I found the following story.
There was once a king who had seven sons and seven daughters: he was in
great trouble where to find princesses of royal blood as wives for his
sons and princes as husbands for his daughters. At last the idea struck
him that the seven sons should marry the seven daughters. They all
consented to their father's wish with the exception of the youngest son
and daughter: "Well, if you won't," said the father, "I will give you
your inheritance and you can go and try your fortune, and get married as
best you can." The two children went, and came to a strange land, where
they were overtaken by darkness in a wood. They chose a bushy tree for
their resting place, whose leafy boughs bent down to the ground and
afforded shelter. When they woke next morning, the girl told her brother
that she had dreamt that there was a town not far off, where a king
lived who had been ill for a long time, and thousands upon thousands of
doctors had failed to cure him. He again dreamt that an old man with
snow-white hair told him that the tree under which they slept gave
water: in this water the king was to be bathed, and he would be cured.
They at once examined the tree, and from a crack in the bark sap as
clear as crystal was dripping; they filled their flasks with the fluid
and continued their journey. When they reached the outskirts of the
forest, they saw a town in front of them.
Having arrived there they went into an inn to find out whether their
dream was true, and asked the host what the news was in the town; he, in
his conversation, mentioned the illness of the king, and the many
unsuccessful attempts of men to cure him, and that he had strict orders,
under a heavy penalty, to report at once every doctor that came to his
inn. "I also am a doctor," said the prince, "and this youth is my
assistant," he continued, pointing to his sister, who was dressed in
male attire. The innkeeper at once reported them, and they went to court
to try their remedy on the king. The king's body was covered with sores,
and the doctor bathed his hand with the juice of the tree. To his great
joy, the king discovered next morning that the place which had been
bathed was visibly improving; he therefore, the very same night, sent a
huge wooden vessel on a cart to the tree, to bring him sufficient water
for a bath. After a few baths the king actually recovered; and the
doctor, having received a handsome present, requested a favour of the
king, viz., to pay him a visit and to do him the honour of dining with
him. The king cordially granted the request, and the prince received him
with great splendour in his spacious apartments, which were decorated
with a lavishness becoming a sovereign. As the king found the doctor
alone, he inquired after his assistant, and at this moment a charming
pretty girl stepped from one of the side rooms, whom the king at once
recognised as the doctor's assistant. The strangers now related to him
their story, and the king became more affable, especially towards the
pretty assistant, who at once gained possession of his heart and soul,
and the short acquaintance ended with a wedding. The prince, not
forgetting the object of his journey, started soon after the wedding
festivities were over.
He passed on till he came to the boundary of the king's realm, and then
went on as far as the capital of the next country. He was riding about
the streets on a fine horse, when he heard a voice coming from a window
close by, "Hum, you, too, won't get on without me," and looking in the
direction from which the voice came, he discovered an old man looking
out of the window. He didn't take any notice of the voice, but went on;
and, having arrived at an inn, made sundry inquiries, when he was told
that adventurous young men in this town might either meet with great
fortune or with a great misfortune; because the king had a daughter whom
no one had as yet seen, with the exception of her old nurse. The girl
had three marks on her, and whoever found out what they were, and where
they were, would become her husband; but whosoever undertook the task
and failed, would be impaled, and that already ninety-nine young fellows
had died in this manner.
Upon hearing this, it became clear to the prince what the meaning of the
old man's saying was; he thought, that no doubt the old man took him for
another adventurer, and the thought struck him that the old man must be
acquainted with the secret, and that it would be advantageous to make
his acquaintance. He found a plea at once; the old man was a goldsmith,
and, as the prince had lost the rowel of his golden spur on the road, he
called on him, and, having come to terms about the spur, the prince
inquired of him about the princess, and the old man's tale tallied with
that of the innkeeper. After a short reflection, the prince told the old
man who he was, and, with a look full of meaning, inquired if the
goldsmith could help him in case he tried his luck. "For a good sum with
pleasure," replied the goldsmith. "You shall have it," said the prince;
"but tell me how, and I will give you this purse on account." The old
man, seeing that there was good opportunity for gain, said, "I will
construct a silver horse in which you can conceal yourself, and I will
expose it for sale in the market. I am almost sure that no one will buy
it but some one attached to the royal court, and if once you get in
there, you can get out of the horse by a secret opening and go back
whenever you like and, I think, you will succeed."
And so it happened; on the following market-day a splendid silver horse
was exhibited in the vicinity of the royal palace: there were a good
many admirers, but on account of the great price there was no buyer,
till at last a person belonging to the royal court enquired the price;
after a few moments he returned and bought the horse for the king, who
presented it to his daughter, and thus the prince managed to get into
the chamber of the princess, which was the most difficult of all things,
and he listened amidst fear and joy to the silvery voice of the pretty
girl, who amused herself with the horse--which ran on wheels--and called
it her dear pet.
Evening drew on, and the mysterious girl went to rest; everything became
quiet, and only her old nurse was sitting up not far from her bed; but
about midnight she, too, fell asleep; hearing that she was fast asleep,
the prince got out of the horse and approached the girl's bed, holding
his breath, and found the mark of the sun shining on the girl's
forehead, the moon on the right breast, and three stars on the left.
Having found out the three secret marks, the prince was about to retire
to his hiding-place when the princess woke. She tried to scream, but at
an imploring gesture of the youth she kept silence. The girl could not
take her eyes off the handsome prince, who related to her how and for
what reason he had dared to come. The girl, being tired of her long
seclusion, consented to his scheme, and they secretly plotted how the
prince should get out of the palace; whereupon he went back to his
hiding-place. In accord with the plot, next morning the girl broke one
of the horse's ears off, and it was sent back to the goldsmith's to be
repaired, and the prince was thus able to leave his dangerous position.
Having again splendidly remunerated the goldsmith, he returned to his
new brother-in-law, so that he might come back with a splendid suite and
royal pomp, and appear as a king to try his fortune. The prince returned
with many magnificently-clad knights and splendid horses, and reported
himself to the king, and informed him by message that he was anxious to
try his luck for the possession of his daughter. The king was very much
pleased with the appearance of the youth, and therefore kindly
admonished him not to risk his life, but the prince seemed quite
confident, and insisted on carrying out his wishes; so a day was fixed
for carrying out the task. The people streamed out to the place where
the trial was to take place, like as to a huge festival. And all pitied
the handsome youth, and had sad misgivings as to his fate.
The king granted three days to those who tried their fortune, and three
guesses. On the first and second day, in order not to betray the plot,
and in order to increase the éclat the prince guessed wrongly on
purpose; but on the third day, when everyone was convinced that he must
die, he disclosed in a loud voice the secret marks of the princess. The
king declared them to be right, and the prince was led to his future
wife, amidst the cheers of the multitude and the joyous strains of the
band. The king ordered immense wedding festivities all over the town,
and resigned his throne in favour of his son-in-law, who reigned happy
for many years after!
THE INVISIBLE SHEPHERD LAD.
There was once, I don't know where, a poor man who had a very good son
who was a shepherd. One day he was tending his sheep in a rocky
neighbourhood, and was sending sighs to Heaven as a man whose heart was
throbbing with burning wishes. Hearing a noise as of some one
approaching he looked round and saw St. Peter standing in front of him
in the guise of a very old grey man. "Why are you sighing, my lad?"
inquired he, "and what is your wish?" "Nothing else," replied the lad,
respectfully, "but to possess a little bag which never gets full, and a
fur cloak which makes me invisible when I put it on." His wish was
fulfilled and St. Peter vanished. The lad gave up shepherding now and
turned to the capital, where he thought he had a chance of making his
fortune. A king lived there who had twelve daughters, and eleven of them
wanted at least six pairs of shoes each every night. Their father was
very angry about this, because it swallowed up a good deal of his
income; he suspected that there was something wrong, but couldn't
succeed by any traps to get to the bottom of it. At last he promised the
youngest princess to him who would unveil the secret.
The promise enticed many adventurous spirits to the capital, but the
girls simply laughed at them, and they were obliged to leave in
disgrace. The shepherd lad, relying on his fur cloak, reported himself;
but the girls measured him, too, with mocking eyes. Night came, and the
shepherd, muffling himself in his fur cloak, stood at the bedroom door
where they slept, and stole in amongst them when they went to bed. It
was midnight and a ghost walked round the beds and woke the girls. There
was now great preparation. They dressed and beautified themselves, and
filled a travelling bag with shoes. The youngest knew nothing of all
this, but on the present occasion the invisible shepherd woke
her--whereupon her sisters got frightened; but as she was let into their
secret they thought it best to decoy her with them, to which, after a
short resistance, the girl consented. All being ready, the ghost placed
a small dish on the table. Everyone anointed their shoulders with the
contents, and wings grew to them. The shepherd did the same: and when
they all flew through the window, he followed them.
After flying for several hours they came to a huge copper forest, and to
a well, the railing round which was of copper, and on this stood twelve
copper tumblers. The girls drank here, so as to refresh themselves, when
the youngest, who was here for the first time, looked round in fear. The
lad, too, had something to drink after the girls had left and put a
tumbler, together with a twig that he broke off a tree, in his bag; the
tree trembled, and the noise was heard all over the forest. The youngest
girl noticed it and warned her sisters that some one was after them, but
they felt so safe that they only laughed at her. They continued their
journey, and after a short time came to a silver forest, and to a silver
well. Here again they drank, and the lad again put a tumbler and a
silver twig into his bag. In breaking off the twig the tree shook, and
the youngest again warned her sisters, but in vain.
They soon came to the end of the forest and arrived at a golden forest,
with a gold well and tumblers. Here again they stopped and drank, and
the lad again put a gold tumbler and twig in his bag. The youngest once
more warned her sisters of the noise the quivering tree made, but in
vain. Having arrived at the end of the forest they came to an immense
moss-grown rock, whose awe-inspiring lofty peaks soared up to the very
heavens. Here they all stopped. The ghost struck the rock with a golden
rod, whereupon it opened, and all entered, the shepherd lad with them.
Now they came to a gorgeous room from which several halls opened, which
were all furnished in a fairy-like manner. From these twelve fairy
youths came forth and greeted them, who were all wonderfully handsome.
The number of servants increased from minute to minute who were rushing
about getting everything ready for a magnificent dance. Soon after
strains of enchanting music were heard, and the doors of a vast dancing
hall opened and the dancing went on without interruption. At dawn the
girls returned--also the lad--in the same way as they had come, and
they lay down as if nothing had happened, which, however, was belied by
their worn shoes, and the next morning they got up at the usual hour.
The king was impatiently awaiting the news the shepherd was to bring,
who came soon after and told him all that had happened. He sent for his
daughters, who denied everything, but the tumblers and the twigs bore
witness. What the shepherd told the youngest girl also confirmed, whom
the shepherd woke for the purpose. The king fulfilled his promise with
regard to the youngest princess and the other eleven were burnt for
witchcraft.
THE THREE PRINCESSES.
There was once, I shan't tell you where, it is enough if I tell you that
there was somewhere a tumble-down oven, which was in first-rate
condition barring the sides, and there were some cakes baking in it;
this person (the narrator points to some one present) has eaten some of
them. Well then, on the mountains of Komárom, on the glass bridges, on
the beautiful golden chandelier, there was once a Debreczen cloak which
had ninety-nine tucks, and in the ninety-ninth I found the following
tale.
There was once a king with three daughters, but the king was so poor
that he could hardly keep his family; his wife, who was the girls'
stepmother, therefore told her husband one night, that in the morning
she would take the girls into the wood and leave them in the thicket so
that they might not find again their way home. The youngest overheard
this, and as soon as the king and queen fell asleep she hurried off to
her godmother, who was a magic woman, to ask her advice: her
godmother's little pony (tátos) was waiting at the front gate, and
taking her on its back ran straight to the magic woman. She knew well
what the girl needed and gave her at once a reel of cotton which she
could unwind in the wood and so find her way back, but she gave it to
her on the condition that she would not take her two elder sisters home
with her, because they were very bad and proud. As arranged next morning
the girls were led out by their stepmother into the wood to gather chips
as she said, and, having wandered about a long time, she told them to
rest; so they sat down under a tree and soon all three went to sleep;
seeing this, the stepmother hurried home.
On waking up, two of the girls, not being able to find their mother,
began to cry, but the youngest was quiet, saying that she knew her way
home, and that she would go, but could not take them with her; whereupon
the two elder girls began to flatter her, and implored her so much that
she gave in at last. Arriving at home their father received them with
open arms; their stepmother feigned delight. Next night she again told
the king that she would lead them deeper still into the wood: the
youngest again overheard the conversation, and, as on the night before,
went on her little pony to her godmother, who scolded her for having
taken home her bad sisters, and on condition that this time she would
not do so, she gave her a bag full of ashes, which she had to strew over
the road as they went on, in order to know her way back; so the girls
were led into the wood again and left there, but the youngest again took
her sisters home, finding her way by the ashes, having been talked over
by many promises and implorings. At home, they were received, as on the
first occasion; on the third night their stepmother once more undertook
to lead them away; the youngest overheard them as before, but this time,
she had not courage to go to her godmother, moreover she thought that
she could help herself, and for this purpose she took a bag full of peas
with her, which she strewed about as they went. Left by their mother,
the two again began to cry, whereas the youngest said laughing, that she
was able to go home on this occasion also; and having again yielded to
her sisters she started on her way back, but to her astonishment could
not find a single pea, as the birds had eaten them all. Now there was a
general cry, and the three outcasts wandered about the whole day in the
wood, and did not find a spring till sunset, to quench their thirst;
they also found an acorn under an oak under which they had lain down to
rest; they set the acorn, and carried water in their mouths to water it;
by next morning it had grown into a tree as tall as a tower, and the
youngest climbed up it to see whether she could not discover some
habitation in the neighbourhood; not being able to see anything, they
spent the whole day crying and wandering about. The following morning,
the tree was as big as two towers, but on this occasion too the youngest
girl looked in vain from its summit: but at last, by the end of the
third day, the tree was as tall as three towers, and this time the
youngest girl was more successful, because she discovered far away a
lighted window, and, having come down, she led her sisters in the
direction of the light. Her sisters, however, treated her most
shamefully, they took away all her best clothes, which she thoughtfully
had brought with her, tied up in a bundle, and she had to be satisfied
with the shabbiest; whenever she dared to contradict them they at once
began to beat her; they gave her orders that wherever they came she had
to represent them as daughters of rich people, she being their servant.
Thus, they went on for three days and three nights until at last they
came to an immense, beautiful castle.
They felt now in safety, and entered the beautiful palace with great
hopes, but how frightened were they when they discovered a giantess
inside who was as tall as a tower, and who had an eye in the middle of
her forehead as big as a dish, and who gnashed her teeth, which were a
span long. "Welcome, girls!" thus spoke the giantess, "What a splendid
roast you will make!" They all three were terrified at these words, but
the youngest shewed herself amiable, and promised the giantess that they
would make all kind of beautiful millinery for her if she did them no
harm; the woman with the big teeth listened, and agreed, and hid the
girls in a cupboard so that her husband might not see them when he came
home; the giant, who was even taller than his wife, however, at once
began to sniff about, and demanded human flesh of his wife, threatening
to swallow her if she did not produce it. The girls were fetched out,
but were again spared, having promised to cook very savoury food for the
grumbling husband.
The chief reason of their life having been spared, however, was because
the husband wanted to eat them himself during the absence of his wife,
and the woman had a similar plan in her mind. The girls now commenced to
bake and roast, the two eldest kneaded the dough, the youngest making
the fire in the oven, which was as big as hell, and when it got red hot,
the cunning young girl called the giant, and having placed a pot full of
lard into the oven, asked him to taste it with his tongue to see whether
the lard was hot enough, and if the oven had reached its proper heat.
The tower of flesh tried it, but the moment he put his head inside the
oven, the girl gave him a push and he was a dead man in the fiery oven;
seeing this, the giantess got in a rage, and was about to swallow them
up, but, before doing so, the youngest induced her to let herself be
beautified, to which she consented; a ladder was brought, so that the
young girl might get on to her head to comb the monster's hair; instead
of combing, however, the nimble little girl knocked the giantess on the
head with the huge iron comb, so that she dropped down dead on the spot.
The girls had the bodies carted away with twenty-four pair of oxen, and
became the sole owners of the immense castle. Next Sunday, the two
eldest dressed up in their best, and went for a walk, and to a dance in
the royal town.
After their departure their youngest sister, who remained at home to do
servants' work, examined all the rooms, passages, and closets in the
castle. During her search she accidentally found something shining in a
flue. She knocked it off with a stone, and found that it was a most
beautiful golden key. She tried it in every door and cupboard, but only
succeeded, after a long search, in opening a small wardrobe with it;
and, how great was her surprise to find that it was full of ladies'
dresses and millinery, and that every thing seemed made to fit her. She
put on a silver dress in great haste, and went to the dance. The
well-known little pony was outside waiting for her, and galloped away
with her like a hurricane. The moment she entered the dancing hall all
eyes were fixed on her, and the men and youths of the highest dignity
vied with each other as to who should dance with her. Her sisters who,
till her arrival, were the heroines of the evening and the belles of the
ball, were quite set aside now. After a few hours' enjoyment the young
lady suddenly disappeared; and, later on, received her sisters on their
return in her servant's clothes. They told her that they had enjoyed
themselves very well at first, but that later on some impudent female
put them in the back-ground. The little girl laughed and said,
"Supposing that I was that lady;" and she was beaten by her sisters, and
called some not very polite names for her remark. Next Sunday the same
thing happened again, only this time the young girl was dressed in gold.
Everything happened the same, and she was again beaten at home.
The third Sunday the little girl appeared in a diamond dress. At the
dance, again, she was the soul of the evening; but this time the young
men wanted her to stay to the end of the ball, and watched her very
closely, so that she might not escape. When, therefore, she tried to get
away, she was in such a hurry that she had no time to pick up a shoe she
accidentally dropped in the corridor; she was just in time to receive
her sisters. The shoe came into the possession of the prince, who hid
it carefully. After a few days the prince fell very ill, and the best
physicians could not find a cure for him; his father was very nearly in
despair about his only son's health, when a foreign doctor maintained
that the patient could only be cured by marrying, because he was
love-sick. His father, therefore, implored him to make him a full
confession of his love, and, whoever the person whom he wished might be,
he should have her. The prince produced the shoe, and declared that he
wanted the young lady to whom the shoe belonged. So it was announced
throughout the whole realm, that all the ladies of the country should
appear next Sunday to try on the shoe, and whosoever's foot it fitted
she should become the prince's wife. On Sunday the ladies swarmed in
crowds to the capital. Nor were the two eldest of the three sisters
missing, who had had their feet previously scraped with a knife by their
youngest sister, so that they might be smaller. The youngest sister also
got ready after their departure, and, having wrapped the mate of the
lost shoe in a handkerchief, she jumped on the pony's back in her best
dress, and rode to the appointed place. She overtook her sisters on the
road, and, jumping the pony into a puddle, splashed them all over with
mud. The moment she was seen approaching 100 cannons were fired off, and
all the bells were rung; but she wouldn't acknowledge the shoe as her
own without a trial, and, therefore, tried it on. The shoe fitted her
exactly, and when she produced its mate, 300 cannons greeted her as the
future queen. She accepted the honour upon one condition, namely, that
the king should restore her father's conquered realm. Her wish was
granted, and she became the prince's wife. Her sisters were conducted
back to their royal father, who was now rich and powerful once more;
where they live still, if they have not died since.
CINDER JACK.
A peasant had three sons. One morning he sent out the eldest to guard
the vineyard. The lad went, and was cheerfully eating a cake he had
taken with him, when a frog crept up to him, and asked him to let it
have some of his cake. "Anything else?" asked the lad angrily, and
picked up a stone to drive the frog away. The frog left without a word,
and the lad soon fell asleep, and, on awaking, found the whole vineyard
laid waste. The next day the father sent his second son into the
vineyard, but he fared like the first.
The father was very angry about it, and did not know what to do;
whereupon his youngest son spoke up, who was always sitting in a corner
amongst the ashes, and was not thought fit for anything, and whom for
this reason they nicknamed Cinder Jack. "My father, send me out, and I
will take care of the vineyard." His father and his brothers laughed at
him, but they allowed him to have a trial; so Cinder Jack went to the
vineyard, and, taking out his cake, began to eat it. The frog again
appeared, and asked for a piece of cake, which was given to him at once.
Having finished their breakfast, the frog gave the lad a copper, a
silver, and a gold rod; and told him, that three horses would appear
shortly, of copper, silver, and gold, and they would try to trample down
the vineyard; but, if he beat them with the rods he had given him they
would at once become tame, and be his servants, and could at any time be
summoned to carry out his orders. It happened as the frog foretold; and
the vineyard produced a rich vintage. But Cinder Jack never told his
master or his brothers how he had been able to preserve the vineyard; in
fact, he concealed all, and again spent his time as usual, lying about
in his favourite corner.
One Sunday the king had a high fir pole erected in front of the church,
and a golden rosemary tied to the top, and promised his daughter to him
who should be able to take it down in one jump on horseback. All the
knights of the realm tried their fortune, but not one of them was able
to jump high enough. But all of a sudden a knight clad in copper mail,
on a copper horse, appeared with his visor down, and snatched the
rosemary with an easy jump, and quickly disappeared. When his two
brothers got home they told Cinder Jack what had happened, and he
remarked, that he saw the whole proceeding much better, and on being
asked "Where from?" his answer was, "From the top of the hoarding." His
brothers had the hoarding pulled down at once, so that their younger
brother might not look on any more. Next Sunday a still higher pole,
with a golden apple at the top, was set up; and whosoever wished to
marry the king's daughter had to take the apple down. Again, hundreds
upon hundreds tried, but all in vain; till, at last, a knight in silver
mail, on a silver horse, took it, and disappeared. Cinder Jack again
told his brothers that he saw the festivities much better than they did;
he saw them, he said, from the pig-stye; so this was pulled down also.
The third Sunday a silk kerchief interwoven with gold was displayed at
the top of a still higher fir pole, and, as nobody succeeded in getting
it, a knight in gold mail, on a gold horse, appeared; snatched it down,
and galloped off. Cinder Jack again told his brothers that he saw all
from the top of the house; and his envious brothers had the roof of the
house taken off, so that the youngest brother might not look on again.
The king now had it announced that the knight who had shown himself
worthy of his daughter should report himself, and should bring with him
the gold rosemary, the apple, and the silk kerchief; but no one came. So
the king ordered every man in the realm to appear before him, and still
the knight in question could not be found; till, at last, he arrived
clad in gold mail on a gold charger; whereupon the bells were at once
rung, and hundreds and hundreds of cannons fired. The knight, having
handed to the princess the golden rosemary, the apple, and the kerchief,
respectfully demanded her hand, and, having obtained it, lifted his
visor, and the populace, to their great astonishment, recognised Cinder
Jack, whom they had even forgotten to ask to the king's presence. The
good-hearted lad had his brothers' house rebuilt, and gave them presents
as well. He took his father to his house, as the old king died soon
after. Cinder Jack is reigning still, and is respected and honoured by
all his subjects!
THE THREE BROTHERS.
There was once a poor man who had three sons. "My sons," said he to them
one day, "you have not seen anything yet, and you have no experience
whatever; it is time for you to go to different countries and try your
luck in the world; so get ready for the journey, and go as far as your
eyes can see." The three lads got ready, and, having filled their bags
with cakes specially prepared For the occasion, they left home. They
went on and on till at last they got tired and lay down,--the two elder
then proposed that, as it became good brethren, they should all share
equally, and that they should begin with the youngest's provisions, and
when they were finished should divide those of the second, and lastly
those of the eldest. And so it happened; on the first day the youngest's
bag was emptied; but the second day, when meal-time came, the two eldest
would not give the youngest anything, and when he insisted on receiving
his share, they gouged out his eyes and left him to starve. For the
present let us leave the two eldest to continue their way, and let's
see what became of the poor blind lad. He, resigning himself to God's
will, groped his way about, till, alas! he dropped into a well. There
was no water in it, but a great deal of mud; when he dropped into it the
mud splashed all over his body, and he felt quite a new man again and
ever so much better. Having besmeared his face and the hollows of his
eyes with the mud he again saw clearly, because the healing power of the
miracle-working mud had renewed his eyes once more, and his whole face
became of a beautiful complexion.
The lad took as much mud in a flower pot with him as he could carry and
continued his journey, when suddenly he noticed a little mouse quite
crushed, imploring him for help; he took pity on it, and, having
besmeared it with the miraculous mud, the mouse was cured, and gave to
his benefactor a small whistle, with the direction that if anything
happened to him he had to blow the whistle, and the mouse, who was the
king of mice, would come to his help with all his mates on earth. He
continued his way and found a bee quite crushed and cured it too with
the mud, and obtained another whistle, which he had to blow in case of
danger, and the queen of the bees would come to his aid. Again going on
he found a wolf shockingly bruised; at first he had not courage to cure
it, being afraid that it would eat him; but the wolf implored so long
that at last he cured him too, and the wolf became strong and beautiful;
the wolf, too, gave him a whistle to use in time of need.
The lad went on till at last he came to the royal town, where he was
engaged as servant to the king. His two brothers were there already in
the same service, and, having recognised him, tried in every way to
destroy him. After long deliberation as to how to carry out their plan
they went to the king and falsely accused their brother of having told
them that he was able to gather the corn of the whole land into the
king's barn in one night; the lad denied it, but all in vain. The king
declared that if all the corn was not in the barn by the morning he
would hang him. The lad wept and wailed for a long time, when suddenly
he remembered his whistles, and blew into the one that the mouse had
given him and when the mice came he told them his misfortunes: by
midnight all the corn of the country was gathered together. Next day his
brothers were more angry still, and falsely said to the king that their
brother was able to build a beautiful bridge of wax from the royal
castle to the market place in one night; the king ordered him to do this
too, and having blown his second whistle the bees, who appeared to
receive his command, did the task for him. Next morning from his window
the king very much admired the beautiful arched bridge; his brothers
nearly burst in their rage, and spread the report that their brother was
able to bring twelve of the strongest wolves into the royal courtyard by
the next morning. They firmly believed that on this occasion they were
quite sure of their victory, because either the wolves would tear their
brother in pieces, or if he could not fulfil the task the king would
have him executed; but again they were out of their reckoning: the lad
blew his third whistle and the king of wolves arrived to receive his
orders. He told him his misfortune, and the wolf ordered not only
twelve, but all his mates in the country, into the royal courtyard. The
lad now sat on the back of the king of wolves, and drove with a whip the
whole pack in front of him, who tore everything in pieces that crossed
them. There was a great deal of weeping, imploring, and wailing in the
royal palace, but all in vain; the king promised a sack full of gold,
but all in vain. The king of the wolves, heedless of any words, urged on
the pack by howling at them continually: "Drive on! Seize them!" The
king promised more; two sacks, three sacks, ten, or even twenty sacks
full of gold were offered but not accepted; the wolves tore everyone in
pieces; the two brothers perished, and so did the king and all his
servants, and only his daughter was spared; the lad married her,
occupied the king's throne, and lives happily to this day if he has not
died since. In his last letter he promised to come and see us to-morrow.
THE THREE VALUABLE THINGS.
There were once two kings who lived in great friendship; one had three
sons, the other a daughter. The two fathers made an agreement, that in
case of either of them dying, the other should become guardian of the
orphans; and that if one of the boys married the girl he should inherit
her property. Very soon after the girl's father died, and she went to
live with her guardian. After a little time the eldest boy went to his
father and asked the girl's hand, threatening to commit suicide if his
request was refused; his father promised to give him a reply in three
weeks. At the end of the first week the second son asked the girl's
hand, and threatened to blow out his brains if he could not wed her; the
king promised to reply to him in a fortnight. At the end of the second
week, the youngest asked for the girl, and his father bade him wait a
week for his answer. The day arrived when all three had to receive their
reply, and their father addressed them thus: "My sons, you all three
love the girl, but you know too well that only one can have her. I will,
therefore, give her to the one who will show himself the most worthy of
her. You had better go, wherever you please, and see the world, and
return in one year from this day, and the girl shall be his who will
bring the most valuable thing from his journey." The princes consented
to this, and started on their journey, travelling together till they
came to a tall oak in the nearest wood; the road here divided into three
branches; the eldest chose the one leading west, the second selected the
one running south, and the third son the branch turning off to the east.
Before separating, they decided to return to the same place after the
lapse of exactly one year, and to make the homeward journey together.
The eldest looked at everything that he found worthy of note during his
travels, and spared no expense to get something excellent: after a long
journey hither and thither, he at last succeeded in getting a telescope
by the aid of which he could see to the end of the world; so he decided
to take it back to his father, as the most valuable thing he had found.
The second son also endeavoured to find something so valuable that the
possession of it should make him an easy winner in the competition for
the girl's hand: after a long search he found a cloak by means of which,
when he put it on and thought of a place, he was immediately transported
there. The youngest, after long wandering, bought an orange which had
power to restore to life the dead when put under the corpse's nose,
provided death had not taken place more than twenty-four hours before.
These were the three valuable things that were to be brought home; and,
as the year was nearly up, the eldest and the youngest were already on
their way back to the oak: the second son only was still enjoying
himself in various places, as one second was enough for him to get to
the meeting place. The two having arrived at the oak, the middle one
appeared after a little while, and they then shewed each other the
valuables acquired; next they looked through the telescope, and to their
horror they saw that the lady for the possession of whom they had been
working hard for a whole year, was lying dead; so they all three slipped
hurriedly into the cloak, and as quick as thought arrived at home; the
father told them in great grief that the girl could belong to no one as
she was dead: they inquired when she died, and receiving an answer that
she had been dead not quite twenty-four hours, the youngest rushed up to
her, and restored her to life with his magic orange. Now there was a
good deal of litigation and quarrelling among the three lads: the eldest
claimed the greatest merit for himself, because, he said, had they not
seen through his telescope that the girl was dead they would have been
still lingering at the oak, and the orange would have been of no avail;
the second maintained that if they had not got home so quickly with his
cloak the orange would have been of no use; the third claimed his orange
as the best, for restoring the girl to life, without which the other two
would have been useless. In order to settle the dispute, they called all
the learned and old people of the realm together, and these awarded the
girl to the youngest, and all three were satisfied with the award, and
the two others gave up all idea about suicide. The eldest, by the aid of
his telescope, found himself a wife who was the prettiest royal princess
on earth, and married her: the second heard of one who was known for her
virtue and beauty, and got into his cloak, and went to her, and so all
three to their great satisfaction led their brides to the altar, and
became as happy as men can be.
THE LITTLE MAGIC PONY.
Once a poor man had twelve sons, and, not having sufficient means to
keep them at home, he sent them into the great world to earn their bread
by work and to try their fortunes. The brothers wandered twelve days and
nights over hills and dales till at last they came to a wealthy king,
who engaged them as grooms, and promised them each three hundred
florins a year for their wages. Among the king's horses there was a
half-starved looking, decrepit little pony; the eleven eldest boys
continually beat and ill-treated this animal on account of its ugliness,
but the youngest always took great care of it, he even saved all the
bread crumbs and other little dainties for his little invalid pony, for
which his brothers very often chaffed him, and in course of time they
treated him with silent contempt, believing him to be a lunatic; he bore
their insults patiently, and their badgering without a murmur, in the
same way as the little pony the bad treatment it received. The year of
service having come to an end, the lads received their wages, and as a
reward they were also each allowed to choose a horse from the king's
stud. The eleven eldest chose the best-looking horses, but the youngest
only begged leave to take the poor little decrepit pony with him. His
brothers tried to persuade him to give up the foolish idea, but, all in
vain, he would have no other horse.
The little pony now confessed to his keeper that it was a magic horse,
and that whenever it wanted it could change into the finest charger and
could gallop as fast as lightning. The twelve brothers then started
homewards; the eleven eldest were proudly jumping and prancing about on
their fine horses, whereas the youngest dragged his horse by its halter
along the road: at one time they came to a boggy place and the poor
little decrepit pony sank into it. The eleven brothers who had gone on
before were very angry about it, as they were obliged to return and drag
their brother's horse out of the mud: after a short journey the
youngest's again stuck in the mud, and his brothers had to drag it out
again, swearing at him all the time. When at last it stuck the third
time they would not listen any more to their brother's cries for help.
"Let them go," said the little pony, and after a short time inquired if
they had gone far? "They have," answered the lad. Again, after a short
time, the pony inquired whether he could still see them. "They look like
flying crows or black spots in the distance," replied his master. "Can
you see them now?" asked the pony in a few minutes. "No," was the reply;
thereupon the pony jumped out of the mud and, taking the lad on its
back, rushed forth like lightning, leaving the others far behind. Having
arrived at home the pony became poor and decrepit as before, and crawled
on to the dung heap, eating the straw it found there, the lad concealing
himself behind the oven. The others having arrived showed their wages
and horses to their father, and being asked about their brother they
replied that he had become an idiot, and chosen as his reward an ugly
pony, just such a one as the one on the dung heap, and that he stuck
fast in a bog, and perhaps was now dead. "It is not true," called out
the youngest from behind the oven, and stepped forth to the astonishment
of all.
Having spent a few days in enjoying themselves at their father's house,
the lads again started on a journey to find wives. They had already
journeyed over seven countries and seven villages as well, and had not
as yet been able to find twelve girls suitable for them, till at last,
as the sun was setting, they came across an old woman with an iron nose,
who was ploughing her field with twelve mares; she asked of them what
they sought, and, having learned the object of their wanderings, she
proposed that they should look at her twelve daughters: the lads having
consented, the old woman drove her twelve mares home and took the lads
into her house and introduced them to her daughters, who were none
others than the twelve mares they saw before. In the evening she bade
each lad go to bed with one of the girls; the eldest lad got into bed
with the eldest girl and so on, her youngest, who was the favourite
daughter and had golden hair, becoming the youngest lad's bedfellow.
This girl informed the lad that it was her mother's intention to kill
his eleven brothers; and so, in order to save them, on their all falling
asleep, the youngest lad got up and laid all his brothers next to the
wall, making all the girls lie outside, and having done this, quietly
crept back into his bed.
After a little while, the old woman with the iron nose got up and, with
a huge sword, cut off the heads of the eleven sleepers who were lying
outside, and then she went back to bed to sleep. Thereupon the youngest
lad again got up, and, waking his brothers, told them how he had saved
them, and urged them to flee as soon as possible. So they hurried off,
their brother remaining there till daybreak. At dawn he noticed that the
old woman was getting up, and that she was coming to examine the beds,
so he, too, got up, and sat on his pony, taking the little girl with the
golden hair with him. The old woman with the iron nose, as soon as she
found out the fraud, picked up a poker, turned it into a horse, and flew
after them; when she had nearly overtaken them, the little pony gave the
lad a currycomb, a brush, and a piece of a horse-rug, and bade him throw
first the currycomb behind him, and in case it did not answer, to throw
the brush, and as a last resource the piece of horse-rug; the lad threw
the currycomb, and in one moment it became a dense forest, with as many
trees as there were teeth in the comb; by the time that the old woman
had broken her way through the wood, the couple had travelled a long
distance. When the old woman came very near again, the lad threw the
brush behind him, and it at once became a dense forest, having as many
trees as there were bristles in the brush. The old woman had the
greatest difficulty in working her way through the wood; but again she
drew close to their heels, and very nearly caught them, when the lad
threw the horse-rug away, and it became such a dense forest between them
and the old woman, that it looked like one immense tree; with all her
perseverance, the old woman could not penetrate this wood, so she
changed into a pigeon to enable her to fly over it; but as soon as the
pony noticed this he turned into a vulture, swooped down on the pigeon,
and tore it in pieces with his claws, thus saving both the lad and the
pretty girl with the golden hair from the fury of the hateful old woman
with the iron nose.
While the eleven elder brothers were still out looking after wives, the
youngest married the pretty little girl with the golden hair, and they
still live merrily together, out of all danger, if they have not died
since.
THE BEGGAR'S PRESENTS.
There was once a very poor man, who went into the wood to fell trees for
his own use. The sweat ran down his cheeks, from his hard work, when all
at once an old beggar appeared and asked for alms. The poor man pitied
him very much, and, putting his axe on the ground, felt in his bag, and,
with sincere compassion, shared his few bits of bread with the poor old
beggar. The latter, having eaten his bread, spoke thus to the
wood-cutter: "My son, here! for your kindness accept this table-cloth,
and whenever hereafter you feel need and are hungry, say to the cloth,
'Spread thyself, little cloth,' and your table will be laid, and covered
with the best meats and drinks. I am the rewarder of all good deeds, and
I give this to you for your benevolence." Thereupon the old man
disappeared, and the wood-cutter turned homewards in great joy.
Having been overtaken by night on his way, he turned into a hostelry,
and informed the innkeeper, who was an old acquaintance, of his good
fortune; and, in order to give greater weight to his word, he at once
made a trial of the table-cloth, and provided a jolly good supper for
the innkeeper and his wife, from the dainty dishes that were served up
on the cloth. After supper he laid down on the bench to sleep, and, in
the meantime, the wicked wife of the innkeeper hemmed a similar cloth,
and by the morning exchanged it for that of the woodcutter. He,
suspecting nothing, hurried home with the exchanged cloth, and, arriving
there, told his wife what had happened; and, to prove his words, at once
gave orders to the cloth to spread itself; but all in vain. He repeated
at least a hundred times the words "Little cloth, spread thyself," but
the cloth never moved; and the simpleton couldn't understand it. Next
day he again went to the wood, where he again shared his bread with the
old beggar, and received from him a lamb, to which he had only to say,
"Give me gold, little lamb," and the gold coins at once began to rain.
With this the woodcutter again went to the inn for the night, and showed
the present to the innkeeper, as before. Next morning he had another
lamb to take home, and was very much surprised that it would not give
the gold for which he asked. He went to the wood again, and treated the
beggar well, but also told him what had happened to the table-cloth and
lamb. The beggar was not at all surprised, and gave him a club, and said
to him, "If the innkeeper has changed your cloth and lamb, you can
regain them by means of this club: you have only to say, 'Beat away,
beat away, my little club,' and it will have enough power to knock down
a whole army." So the woodcutter went to the inn a third time, and
insisted upon his cloth and lamb being returned; and, as the innkeeper
would not do so, he exclaimed, "Beat away, beat away, my little club!"
and the club began to beat the innkeeper and his wife, till the missing
property was returned.
He then went home and told his wife, with great joy, what had happened;
and, in order to give greater consequence to his house, he invited the
king to dinner next day. The king was very much surprised, and, about
noon, sent a lackey to see what they were cooking for him; the
messenger, however, returned with the news that there was not even a
fire in the kitchen. His majesty was still more surprised when, at
meal-time, he found the table laden with the finest dishes and drinks.
Upon inquiry where all came from, the poor woodcutter told him his
story, what happened in the wood, about the lamb and cloth, but did not
mention a word about the club. The king, who was a regular tyrant, at
once claimed the cloth and the lamb; and, as the man would not comply,
he sent a few lackeys to him, to take them away; but they were soon
knocked down by the club. So the king sent a larger force against him;
but they also perished to a man. On hearing this the king got into a
great rage, and went in person with his whole army against him; but on
this occasion, too, the woodcutter was victorious, because the club
knocked down dead every one of the king's soldiers; the king himself
died on the battle-field and his throne was occupied by the once poor
woodcutter. It was a real blessing to his people; because, in his
magnanimity, he delighted to assist all whom he knew to be in want or
distress; and so he, also, lived a happy and contented man to the end of
his days!
THE WORLD'S BEAUTIFUL WOMAN.
In the most beautiful land of Asia, where Adam and Eve may have lived,
where all animals, including cows, live wild, where the corn grows wild,
and even bread grows on trees, there lived a pretty girl, whose palace
was built on a low hill, which looked over a pretty, a very pretty
valley, from which one could see the whole world. In the same country
there lived a young king who decided not to get married till he
succeeded in finding the prettiest woman or girl in the world. The
pretty maid lived with her old father, and with only two servant girls.
The young king lived and enjoyed himself amongst the finest young
aristocrats. One day it struck the young king that it would be a good
thing to get married; so he instructed his aristocratic friends to go
all over his vast realm, and to search about till they found the
prettiest girl in the land: they had not to trouble whether she was poor
or rich; but she must be the prettiest. Each of them was to remain in
the town where he found the girl that he deemed was the prettiest and to
write and let the king know, so that he might go and have a look at all
of them and choose for himself the prettiest amongst all the beauties,
the one he liked best. After a year he received letters from every one
of his seventy-seven friends, and extraordinarily all the seventy-seven
letters arrived from the same town, where, on a low hill above a pretty
little valley, there stood a golden palace, in which there lived a young
lady with a nice old man and two maids, and from the four windows of
which palace the whole world could be seen. The young king started with
a large retinue of wedding guests to the place where the prettiest girl
in the world lived: he found there all his seventy-seven friends, who
were all fever-stricken with love, and were lying about on the pavement
of the palace, on hay which was of a very fine silk-like grass; there
they lay every one of them. The moment the young king saw the beautiful
girl he cried: "The Lord has created you expressly for me; you are mine
and I am yours! and it is my wish to find my rest in the same grave with
you."
The young lady also fell very much in love with the handsome king; in
her fond passion she could not utter a word, but only took him round his
slender waist[1] and led him to her father. Her old father wept tears of
joy, that at last a man was found whom his daughter could love, as she
had thought every man ugly hitherto. The ceremony of betrothal and
wedding was very short; at his pretty wife's wish, the king came to
live on the beautiful spot, than which there was not a prettier one in
the whole world! By the side of the palace there was an earth-hut, in
which lived an old witch who knew all the young lady's secrets, and who
helped her with advice whenever she needed it. The old witch praised the
young lady's beauty to all she met, and it was she who had gathered the
seventy-seven young aristocrats into the palace. On the evening of the
wedding she called upon "the world's beautiful lady" and praised the
young king to her, his handsomeness and riches, and after she had
praised him for an hour or two she sighed heavily: the pretty young lady
asked her what troubled her, as she had this very moment spoken of her
husband as being a handsome, rich, and worthy man? "Because, my pretty
lady, my beautiful queen, if you two live sometime here, you will not
long be the prettiest woman in the world; you are very pretty now, and
your husband is the handsomest of all men; but should a daughter be born
to you, she will be more beautiful than you; she will be more beautiful
than the morning star--this is the reason of my sadness, my beautiful
lady." "You are quite right, good old woman, I will follow any advice;
if you tell me what to do, I will obey you. I will do anything to remain
the most beautiful woman in the world." This was what the old witch said
to the beautiful lady: "I will give you a handful of cotton wool; when
your husband sleeps with you, put this wool on your lips, but be careful
not to make it wet, because there will be poison on it. When your
husband arrives at home all in perspiration from the dance, he will come
to you and kiss you, and die a sudden death." The young lady did as the
witch told her, and the young king was found dead next morning; but the
poison was of such a nature that the physicians were not able to find
out what the king had died of.
The bride was left a widow, and again went to live with her maid and
her old father, and made a solemn vow that she would never marry again.
And she kept her word. As it happened, however, by some inexplicable
circumstance, or by some miracle, after a few months she discovered that
she was with child; so she ran to the old witch and asked her what to
do. The witch gave her a looking-glass and the following advice: "Every
morning you have to ask this mirror whether there is a more beautiful
woman than yourself in existence, and if it says that there is not,
there really won't be one for a long time, and your mind may be at ease;
but should it say that there is one, there will be one, and I will see
to that myself." The beautiful lady snatched the mirror from the witch
in great joy, and as soon as she reached her dressing-room she placed
the little mirror on the window ledge and questioned it thus: "Well, my
dear little mirror, is there a more beautiful woman in the world than
I?" The mirror replied: "Not yet, but there will be one soon, who will
be twice as handsome as you." The beautiful woman nearly lost her wits
in her sorrow, and informed the witch what the mirror had replied. "No
matter," said the old hag, "let her be born, and we shall soon put her
out of the way."
The beautiful lady was confined, and a pretty little daughter was born,
and it would have been a sin to look at her with an evil eye. The bad
woman did not even look at the pretty little creature, but fetched her
mirror and said: "Well, my dear little mirror, is there a more beautiful
creature than I?" and the looking-glass replied: "You are very
beautiful, but your little daughter is seven times prettier than you."
So as soon as she left her bed she sent for the old witch to ask her
advice, who, when she took the babe in her arms, exclaimed that she had
never seen such a beautiful creature in all her life. While she gazed at
the beautiful child she spat in her eyes and covered her face, telling
the beautiful woman to look at the child again in three hours, and when
she uncovered it she would be surprised to find what a monster it had
become. The beautiful lady felt very uneasy, and asked the witch whether
she was allowed to question the mirror again? "Certainly," replied the
witch, "for I know that at this moment you are the most beautiful woman
in existence." But the mirror replied, "You are beautiful, but your
daughter is seventy-seven times more beautiful than you." The beautiful
woman nearly died of rage, but the old witch only smiled, being
confident of her magic power.
The three hours passed, the little girl's face was uncovered, and the
old witch fainted away in her rage; for the little girl had become not
only seven times, but seventy-seven times more beautiful than ever from
the very same thing that usually disfigured other babies: when she
recovered she advised the beautiful lady to kill her baby, as not even
the devil himself had any power over it. The old father of the beautiful
woman had died suddenly, broken hearted by his daughter's shame! The
beautiful woman was nearly killed by sorrow over the loss of her father,
and in order to forget her troubles, she spared her daughter till she
was thirteen: the little girl grew more beautiful every day, so that the
woman could not bear her daughter's beauty any longer, and handed her to
the old witch to be killed. The witch was only too glad to avail herself
of the opportunity, and took her into a vast forest, where she tied the
girl's hands together with a wisp of straw, placed a wreath of straw on
her head, and a girdle of straw round her waist, so that by lighting
them she would burn to death the most beautiful masterpiece of the Lord.
But all of a sudden a loud shouting was heard in the forest, and twelve
robbers came running as swift as birds towards the place where the old
witch and the pretty girl were standing. One of the robbers seized the
girl, another knocked the old witch on the head, and gave her a sound
beating. The witch shammed death, and the robbers left the wicked old
wretch behind, carrying off the pretty girl (who had fainted in her
fright) with them. After half an hour the old witch got up, and rushed
to the castle where the beautiful woman lived, and said, "Well, my
queen, don't question your mirror any more, for you are now the most
beautiful creature in the world, your beautiful daughter lies under
ground." The beautiful lady jumped for joy, and kissed the ugly old
witch.
The pretty girl upon her recovery found herself in a nice little house,
in a clean bed, and guarded by twelve men, who praised her beauty in
whispers, which was such as no human eye had seen before. The innocent
little thing, not thinking of any harm, looked at the men with their
great beards, who stared at her with wide open eyes. She got up from her
soft bed, and thanked the good men for having delivered her from the
clutches of the awful old witch, and then inquired where she was, and
what they intended to do with her; if they meant to kill her, she begged
them do it at once, as she would die with pleasure, and was only afraid
of being killed by that horrible old witch, who was going to burn her to
death. None of the robbers could utter a word, their hearts were so
softened by her sweet words: such words as they had never before heard
from human lips, and her innocent look which would have tamed even a
wild bull. At last one of the robbers, who was splendidly dressed, said:
"You pretty creature of the Lord, you are in the midst of twelve
robbers, who are men of good hearts, but bad morals; we saved you from
the hands of the ugly old witch whom I knocked down, and killed I
believe; we would not kill you, for the whole world; but, on the
contrary, would fight the whole world for you! Be the ornament of our
house and the feast of our eyes! Whatsoever your eyes or your mouth may
desire, be it wherever man exists, we will bring it to you! be our
daughter, and we will be everything to you! your fathers! brothers!
guardians! and, if you need it, your soldiers!" The little girl smiled,
and was very pleased: she found more happiness among the robbers than
she ever did in her mother's palace; she shook hands with all, commended
herself to their protection, and at once looked after the cooking. The
chief of the robbers called three strong maidens, dressed in white,
from a cave, and ordered them to carry out without delay the orders of
their queen, and if he heard one word of complaint against any of them,
they should die the death of a pig. The young girl spoke kindly to the
three maids, and called them her companions.
The robbers then went out on to the highway in great joy--to continue
their plundering--singing and whistling with delight, because their home
and their band had the most beautiful queen in the world. The beautiful
woman, the girl's mother, one day felt weary, and listless, because she
had not heard any one praise her beauty for a very long time. So in her
ennui she took her mirror and said to it: "My dear, sweet little mirror,
is there a more beautiful creature in all the world, than I?" The little
mirror replied, "You are very beautiful, but your daughter is a thousand
times handsomer!" The woman nearly had a fit, in her rage, for she had
not even suspected that her hateful daughter was yet alive: she ran to
the old witch like one out of her mind, to tell what the mirror had
said. The witch at once disguised herself as a gipsy, and started on her
journey, and arrived at the fence of the place where the pretty girl
lived; the garden was planted with flowers and large rose bushes; among
the flower beds she could see the pretty girl sauntering in a dress fit
for a queen. The old witch's heart nearly broke when she saw the young
girl, for never, not even in her imagination, had she ever seen any one
so beautiful. She stole into the garden among the flower beds, and on
approaching saw that the young girl's fingers were covered with the most
precious diamond rings: she kissed the girl's beautiful hand, and begged
to be allowed to put on a ring more precious than any she had; the girl
consented, and even thanked her for it. When she entered the house, she
all at once dropped down as if dead; the witch rushed home, and brought
the good news to the beautiful queen, who at once questioned the mirror,
whether there was yet any one who was prettier than she, and the mirror
replied, that there was not.
The pretty woman was delighted, and nearly went mad with joy on hearing
that she was once more the most beautiful creature in existence, and
gave the witch a handful of gold.
At noon the robbers dropped in one after another from their plundering,
and were thunderstruck when they saw that the glory of their house and
the jewel of their band lay dead. They bewailed her with loud cries of
grief, and commanded the maidens with threats to tell them who had done
it, but they were even more stunned with grief, and bewailed the good
lady, and could not utter a single word, till one of them said that she
saw the pretty girl talking with a gipsy woman for a while, and that the
moment the woman left she suddenly dropped down dead. After much weeping
and wailing the robbers made preparations for the laying out of their
adored queen; they took off her shoes in order to put more beautiful
ones upon her pretty feet: they then took the rings off her fingers in
order to clean them, and as at the very last one of the robbers pulled
off the most precious ring from her little finger, the young girl sat up
and smiled, and informed them that she had slept very well, and had had
most beautiful dreams; and also that if they had not taken off that very
ring (which the gipsy woman had put on that day) from her little finger
she would never have waked again. The robbers smashed the murderous ring
to atoms with their hatchet-sticks, and begged their dear queen not to
speak to anyone, except themselves, as all others were wicked, and
envious of her on account of her beauty, while they adored her. Having
partaken of a good supper, the robbers again went out to their plunder
singing, and quite at rest in their minds, and for a couple of weeks
nothing happened to the young lady; but after a fortnight her mother
again felt ennui and questioned her mirror: "Is there any one living
being on this earth more beautiful than I?" The mirror replied: "You
are very beautiful, but your daughter is one thousand times more
beautiful." The beautiful lady began to tear her hair in rage, and went
to complain to the witch that her daughter was alive still, so the witch
again went off and found the young lady, as before, among the
flower-beds. The witch disguised herself as a Jewess this time, and
began to praise the gold and diamond pins with which the young lady's
shawl was fastened, which she admired very much, and begged the young
lady's leave to allow her to stick another pin amongst those which she
had already in her bosom, as a keepsake. Among all the pins the
prettiest one was the one which the witch disguised as a Jewess stuck in
the young lady's bosom. The young lady thanked her for it, and went
indoors to look after the cooking, but as soon as she arrived in the
house she gave a fearful scream and dropped down dead.
The joy of her mother was great when the witch arrived home in great
delight and the mirror again proved that the girl was dead. The robbers
were full of joy, in anticipation of the pleasure of seeing again their
pretty young girl, whose beauty was apparently increasing daily; but
when they heard the cries of sorrow of the three servant maids and saw
the beautiful corpse stretched out on the bier, they lost all their
cheerfulness and began to weep also. Three of the robbers carried in all
the necessaries for the funeral, while the others undressed and washed
the corpse, and as they were drawing out from her shawl the numerous
pins, they found one amongst them which sparkled most brilliantly,
whereupon two of them snatched it away, each being anxious to replace it
in the girl's bosom when redressing her for burial, when suddenly the
virgin queen sat up and informed them that her death was caused by a
Jewess this time. The robbers buried the pin five fathoms deep in the
ground, so that no evil spirit might get it. There is no more restless
being in the world than a woman; it is a misfortune if she is pretty,
and the same if she is not: if she be pretty she likes to be continually
told of it, if she be not she would like to be. The evil one again
tempted the beautiful lady, and she again questioned her mirror whether
any living being was prettier than she: the mirror replied that her
daughter was prettier.
Upon this she called the old witch all kinds of bad names in her rage,
and threatened her that if she did not kill her daughter outright she
would betray her to the world, and accuse her of having led her to all
her evil deeds; that it was she who induced her to kill her handsome
husband, and that she had given her the mysterious mirror, which was the
cause of her not being able to die in peace. The old hag made no reply,
but went off in a boisterous manner: she transformed herself into a
pretty girl and went straight into the house in which the young lady was
dressing herself and falsely told her that she had been engaged by the
robbers to wait always upon her while she dressed, because she had
already been killed twice, once by a gipsy woman, and another time by a
Jewess; and also that the robbers had ordered her not to do anything
else but to help her in her toilet. The innocent girl believed all that
the she-devil said. She allowed her to undo her hair and to comb it. The
witch did her hair in accordance with the latest fashion, and plaited it
and fastened it with all sorts of hair pins; while doing so she hid a
hair-pin which she had brought with her among the girl's hair, so that
it could not be noticed by anyone; having finished, the new lady's maid
asked permission to leave her mistress for a moment, but never returned,
and her young lady died, while all wept and sobbed most bitterly. The
men and the maids had again to attend with tears to their painful duty
of laying her out for her funeral; they took away all her rings,
breast-pins, and hair-pins; they even opened every one of the folds of
her dress, but still they did not succeed in bringing the young girl to
life again. Her mother was really delighted this time, because she kept
on questioning the mirror for three or four days, and it always replied
to her heart's content. The robbers wailed and cried, and did not even
enjoy their food; one of them proposed that they should not bury the
girl, but that they should come to pray by the side of their dear dead;
others again thought that it would be a pity to confide the pretty body
to the earth, where it would be destroyed; others spoke of the terrible
pang, and said that their hearts would break if they had to look at her
dead beauty for any length of time. So they ordered a splendid coffin
to be made of wrought gold. They wrapped her in purple and fine linen;
they caught an elk and placed the coffin between its antlers, so that
the precious body might not decompose underground: the elk quietly
carried the precious coffin about, and took the utmost care to prevent
it falling from its antlers or its back. This elk happened to graze in
Persia just as the son of the Persian king was out hunting all alone.
The prince was twenty-three years old; he noticed the elk and also the
splendid coffin between its antlers, whereupon he took a pound of sugar
from his bag and gave it to the elk to eat. Taking the coffin from
its back the Persian king's son opened the gold coffin with fear and
trembling, when, unfolding the fine linen, he discovered a corpse, the
like of which he had never seen before, not even in his dreams.
He began to shake it to wake her: to kiss her, and at last went down
upon his knees by her side to pray to God fervently to restore her to
life, but still she didn't move. "I will take her with me into my room,"
he said, sobbing. "Although it is a corpse that must have been dead for
some time, there is no smell. The girl is prettier in her death than all
the girls of Persia alive." It was late at night when the prince got
home, carrying the golden coffin under his cloak. He bewailed the dead
girl for a long time and then went to supper. The king looked anxiously
into his son's eyes, but did not dare to question him as to the cause of
his grief. Every night the prince locked himself up, and did not go to
sleep until he had, for a long time, bemoaned his dead sweetheart; and
whenever he awoke in the night he wept again.
The prince had three sisters, and they were very good girls, and very
fond of their brother. They watched him every night through the keyhole,
but could see nothing. They heard, however, their brother's sobbing and
were very much grieved by it. The Persian king had war declared against
him by the king of the neighbouring country. The king, being very
advanced in age, asked his son to go in his place to fight the enemy.
The good son promised this willingly, although he was tortured by the
thought of being obliged to leave his beautiful dead girl behind. As,
however, he was aware that he would again be able to see and weep over
his dear one when once the war was over, he locked himself in his room
for two hours, weeping all the time, and kissing his sweetheart. Having
finished, he locked his room and put the key in his sabretache. The
good-hearted princesses impatiently waited till their brother crossed
the border with his army, and so soon as they knew that he had left the
country they went to the locksmith of the castle and took away every key
he had, and with these tried to unlock their brother's room, till at
last one of the keys did fit. They ordered every servant away from the
floor on which the room was situated and all three entered. They looked
all round, and in all the cupboards, and even took the bed to pieces,
and as they were taking out the planks of the bed they suddenly
discovered the glittering gold coffin, and in all haste placed it on the
table, and having opened it found the sleeping angel. All three kissed
her; but when they saw that they were unable to restore life, they wept
most bitterly. They rubbed her and held balsam under her nose, but
without avail. Then they examined her dress, which was very far superior
to their own. They moved her rings and breast-pins, and dressed her up
like a pretty doll. The youngest princess brought combs and perfumed
hair-oils in order to do the hair of the dear dead. They pulled out the
hair-pins and arranged them in nice order, so as to be able to replace
them as before. They parted her golden hair, and began to comb it,
adorning each lock with a hair-pin. As they were combing the hair at the
nape of the neck the comb stuck fast, so they looked at once for the
cause of it, when they saw that a golden hair-pin was entangled in the
hair, which the eldest princess moved with the greatest care. Whereupon
the beautiful girl opened her eyes and her lips formed themselves into a
smile; and, as if awakening from a long, long dream, she slightly
stretched herself, and stepped from the coffin. The girls were not
afraid at all, as she, who was so beautiful in her death, was still more
beautiful in life. The youngest girl ran to the old king and told him
what they had done, and that they had found out the cause of their
brother's grief, and how happy they were now. The old king wept for joy
and hastened after his daughter, and on seeing the beautiful child
exclaimed: "You shall be my son's wife, the mother of my grandchildren!"
And thereupon he embraced and kissed her, and took her into his room
with his daughters. He sent for singing birds so that they might amuse
his dear little new daughter. The old king inquired how she made his
son's acquaintance and where she first met him. But the pretty princess
knew nothing about it, but simply told him what she knew, namely, that
she had two enemies who sooner or later would kill and destroy her; and
she also told him that she had been living among robbers, to whom she
had been handed over by an old witch who would always persecute her till
the last moment of her life. The old king encouraged her, and bade her
not to fear anyone, but to rest in peace, as neither her mother nor the
old witch could get at her, the Persian wise men being quite able to
distinguish evil souls from good ones. The girl settled down and partook
of meat and drink with the king's daughters, and also inquired after the
young prince, asking whether he was handsome or ugly; although, she
said, it did not matter to her whether he was handsome or ugly; if he
was willing to have her, she would marry him. The princesses brought
down the painted portrait of the prince and the young girl fell so
deeply in love with it that she continually carried it with her kissing
it. One morning the news spread over all the country that the young king
had conquered his enemy and was hurrying home to his residential city.
The news turned out to be true, and clouds of dust could be seen in the
distance as the horsemen approached. The princesses requested their
pretty new sister to go with them into the room which adjoined their
brother's, where her coffin was kept under the bed.
The moment the prince arrived, he jumped off his horse, and, not even
taking time to greet his father, he unlocked his room and began to sob
most violently, dragging out the coffin gently from under the bed,
placing it on the bed with great care, and then opening the lid with
tears; but he could only find a hair-pin. He rushed out of the room like
a madman, leaving the coffin and the door open, crying aloud, and
demanding what sacrilegious hand had robbed his angel from him. But his
angel, over whom he had shed so many tears, stood smiling before him.
The youth seized her and covered her with as many kisses as there was
room for. He took his betrothed, whom Providence had given to him, to
his father and told him how he had found the pretty corpse on the back
of an elk; and the girl also told the whole story of her life; and the
princesses confessed how they had broken into their brother's room, and
how they restored his sweetheart to life again. The old king was
intoxicated with joy, and the same day sent for a priest, and a great
wedding feast was celebrated. The young folks whom Providence had
brought together lived very happily, when one day the young queen, who
was as beautiful as a fairy, informed her husband that she was being
persecuted, and that while her mother lived she could never have any
peace. "Don't fear, angel of my heart," said the young king, "as no
human or diabolic power can harm you while you are here. Providence is
very kind to us. You seem to be a favourite and will be protected from
all evil." The young queen was of a pious turn of mind and believed the
true words of her husband, as he had only spoken out her own thoughts.
About half a year had passed by and the beautiful woman of the world was
still happy. Her mirror was covered with dust, as she never dreamt for a
moment that her daughter was yet alive; but being one day desirous to
repeat her former amusement she dusted her mirror, and, pressing it to
her bosom, said: "Is there a prettier living creature in the world than
myself?" The mirror replied: "You are very pretty, but your daughter is
seventy-seven thousand times more beautiful than you." The beautiful
woman, on hearing the mirror's reply, fainted away, and they had to
sprinkle cold water over her for two hours before she came round. Off
she set, very ill, to the old witch and begged her, by everything that
was holy, to save her from that hateful girl, else she would have to go
and commit suicide. The old witch cheered her, and promised that she
would do all that lay in her power.
After eight months had elapsed the young prince had to go to war again;
and, with a heavy heart, took leave of his dear pretty wife, as--if one
is obliged to tell it--she was _enceinte_. But the prince had to go, and
he went, consoling his wife, who wept bitterly, that he would return
soon. The young king left orders that as soon as his wife was confined a
confidential messenger was to be sent without delay to inform him of the
event. Soon after his departure two beautiful boys with golden hair were
born and there was great joy in the royal household. The old king danced
about, like a young child, with delight. The princesses wrapped the
babies in purple and silk, and showed them to everybody as miracles of
beauty.
The old king wrote down the joyful news and sent the letter by a
faithful soldier, instructing him that he was not to put up anywhere
under any pretence whatever. The old soldier staked his moustache not to
call anywhere till he reached the young king.
While angels were rejoicing, devils were racking their brains and
planning mischief!
The old witch hid a flask full of spirits under her apron and hurried
off on the same road as the soldier, in order to meet him with his
letter. She pitched a small tent on the road-side using some dirty
sheets she had brought with her, and, placing her flask of spirits in
front of her, waited for the passers-by. She waited long, but no one
came; when all of a sudden a huge cloud gathered in the sky, and the old
witch was delighted. A fearful storm set in. As the rain poured down,
the old witch saw the soldier running to escape the rain. As he ran past
her tent, the wicked old soul shouted to him to come in and sit down in
her tent till the rain was over. The soldier, being afraid of the
thunder, accepted her invitation, and sat musingly in the tent, when the
old woman placed a good dose of spirits in front of him, which the
soldier drank; she gave him another drop, and he drank that too. Now
there was a sleeping-draft in it, and so the soldier fell fast asleep,
_and slept like a fur cloak_. The old woman then looked in his bag for
the letter, and, imitating _the old king's_ hand-writing to great
perfection, informed the young prince that a great sorrow had fallen
upon his house, inasmuch as his wife had been delivered of two puppies.
She sealed the letter and woke the soldier, who began to run again and
did not stop until he reached the camp. The young prince was very much
upset by his father's letter, but wrote in reply that no matter what
sort of children his wife had borne they were not to touch but to treat
them as his own children until he returned. He ordered the messenger to
hurry back with his reply, and not to stop anywhere; but the old soldier
could not forget the good glass of spirits he had, and so went into the
tent again and had some more. The witch again mixed it with a
sleeping-draught and searched the bag while the soldier slept. She stole
the letter, and, imitating the young prince's hand-writing, wrote back
to the old king that he was to have his wife and the young babes killed,
because he held a woman who had puppies must be a bad person. The old
king was very much surprised at his son's reply but said nothing to
anyone. At night he secretly called the old soldier to him and had his
daughter-in-law placed in a black carriage. The old soldier sat on the
box and had orders to take the woman and her two children into the
middle of the forest and brain them there. The carriage stopped in the
middle of the forest, the old soldier got down and opened the door,
weeping bitterly. He pulled out a big stick from under his seat and
requested the young queen to alight. She obeyed his orders and descended
holding her babes in her arms.
The old soldier tried three times to raise the stick, but could not do
so; he was too much overcome by grief. The young queen implored him not
to kill her, and told him she was willing to go away and never see
anyone again. The old soldier let her go, and she took her two babes and
sheltered in a hollow tree in the forest: there she passed her time
living on roots and wild fruit.
The soldier returned home, and was questioned by the old king as to
whether he had killed the young queen, as he didn't like to disappoint
his son, who was to return from the camp next day. The old soldier
declared on his oath that he had killed her and her babes too, and that
he had thrown their bodies into the water. The young king arrived at
home in great sorrow, and was afraid to catch sight of his unfortunate
wife and her ugly babes.
The old king had left his son's letter upon his desk by mistake; the
prince picked it up, and was enraged at its contents: "This looks very
like my writing," he said, "but I did not write it; it must be the work
of some devil." He then produced his father's letter from his pocket,
and handed it to him. The old king was horrified at the awful lie which
some devil had written in his hand. "No, my dear son," said the old
father, weeping, "this is not what I wrote to you; what I really did
write was, that two sons with golden hair had been born to you." "And
I," replied the young king, "said that whatsoever my wife's offspring
was, no harm was to happen to them till I returned. Where is my wife?
where are my golden-haired children?" "My son," said the old king, "I
have carried out your orders; I sent them to the wood and had them
killed, and the corporal belonging to the royal household had their
bodies cast into the water." The old soldier listened, through a crack
in the door, to the conversation of the two kings, who both wept
bitterly. He entered the room without being summoned, and said: "I could
not carry out your orders, my lord and king; I had not the heart to
destroy the most beautiful creature in the world; so I let her go free
in the forest, and she left, weeping. If they have not been devoured by
wild beasts, they are alive still." The young king never touched a bit
of supper, but had his horse saddled at once, and ordered his whole
body-guard out. For three days and three nights they searched the wood
in every direction, without intermission: on the fourth night, at
midnight, the young king thought he heard, issuing from a hollow tree, a
baby's cry, which seemed as harmonious to him as the song of a
nightingale. He sprang off his horse, and found his beautiful wife, who
was more beautiful than ever, and his children, who were joyfully
prattling in their mother's arms. He took his recovered family home,
amidst the joyous strains of the band, and, indeed, a high festival was
celebrated throughout the whole realm.
The young woman again expressed her fears with trembling, that, while
her mother and that she-devil were alive, she could not live in peace.
The young king issued a warrant for the capture of the old witch; and
the old soldier came, leading behind him, tied to a long rope, an awful
creature, whose body was covered all over with frightful prickles, and
who had an immense horn in the middle of her forehead. The young queen
at once recognised her as the old witch, who had been captured in the
act of searching the wood in order to find her, and slay her and her two
babes. The young queen had the old witch led into a secret room, where
she questioned her as to why she had persecuted her all her life.
"Because," said the old witch, "I am the daughter of your grandfather,
and the sister of your mother! When I was yet but a suckling babe, your
grandmother gave orders that I was to be thrown into the water; a devil
coming along the road took me and educated me. I humoured your mother's
folly because I thought she would go mad in her sorrow that a prettier
creature than herself existed; but the Lord has preserved you, and your
mother did not go mad till I covered her with small-pox, and her face
became all pitted and scarred. Her mirror was always mocking her, and
she became a wandering lunatic, roaming about over the face of the land,
and the children pelting her with stones. She continually bewails you."
The young queen informed her husband of all this, and he had the old
witch strangled, strung up in a tree, and a fire made of brimstone
lighted under her. When her soul (pára-animal soul) left her wicked
body, a horse was tied to each of her hands and feet, and her body torn
into four, one quarter of her body being sent to each of the points of
the compass, so that the other witches might receive a warning as to
their fate.
The "most beautiful woman in the world" was now very ugly, and happened
by chance to reach the palace where the pretty queen lived. Her daughter
wept over her, and had her kept in a beautiful room, every day showing
her through a glass door her beautiful children. The poor lunatic wept
and tortured herself till one day she jumped out of the window and broke
her neck. The young king loved his beautiful wife as a dove does its
mate; he obeyed her slightest wish, and guarded her from every danger.
The two little sons with the golden hair became powerful and valiant
heroes, and when the old king died he was carried to his vault by his
two golden-haired grandchildren.
The young couple, who had gone through so many sad trials, are alive
still, if they have not died since.
[1] The great pride of the Hungarian youth is to have a slender waist.
THE GIRL WITHOUT HANDS.
There was once, I don't know where, a king whose only son was an
exceedingly handsome and brave fellow, who went far into the
neighbouring country to fight. The old king used to send letters to his
son into the camp, through an old faithful servant. Once it happened
that the letter-carrying old servant took a night's lodging in a lonely
house, which was inhabited by a middle-aged woman and her daughter, who
was very pretty. The people of the house had supper prepared for the
messenger, and during the meal the woman questioned him whether he
thought her or her daughter to be the prettier, but the messenger did
not like to state the exact truth, as he did not wish to appear
ungrateful for their hospitality, and only said, "Well, we can't deny
but must confess it that we old people cannot be so handsome as the
young ones." The woman made no reply; but as soon as the messenger had
left she gave her servant orders to take her daughter into the wood and
kill her, and to bring her liver, lungs, and two hands back with him.
The manservant took the pretty girl with him, and, having gone a good
distance, he stopped, and told the girl of her mother's commands.
"But," continued he, "I haven't got the heart to kill you, as you have
always been very kind to me; there is a small dog which has followed us,
and I will take his liver and lungs back to your mother, but I shall be
compelled to cut off your hands, as I can't go back without them." The
servant did as he proposed; he took out the small dog's lungs and liver,
and cut off the girl's hands, much as it was against his wish. He
carefully covered the stumps of her arms with a cloth, and sent the girl
away and went back to his mistress. The woman took the lungs and liver,
put them into her mouth, and said, "You have come out of me, you must
return into me," and swallowed them. The two hands she threw up into the
loft. The servant left the woman's house in a great hurry at the
earliest opportunity, and never returned again. In the meantime the girl
without hands wandered about in unknown places. Fearing that she would
be discovered in the daytime, she hid herself in the wood, and only left
her hiding place at night to find food, and if she chanced to get into
an orchard she ate the fruit she could reach with her mouth.
At last she came to the town where the king lived: the prince had by
this time returned from the war. One morning, the king was looking out
of his window, and to his great annoyance discovered that, again, there
were less pears on a favourite tree in the orchard than he had counted
the previous day. In a great rage he sent for the gardener, whose
special business it was to take care of the orchard; but he excused
himself on the ground that while he was watching the orchard at night an
irresistible desire to sleep came over him, the like of which he had
never experienced before, and which he was quite unable to shake off.
The king, therefore, ordered another man to keep watch under the tree
the next night, but he fared in the same way as the first; the king was
still more angry. On the third night, the prince himself volunteered to
keep watch, and promised to guard the fruit of the favourite tree; he
laid down on the lawn under the tree, and did not shut his eyes. About
midnight, the girl without hands came forth from a thicket in the
garden, and, seeing the prince, said to him, "One of your eyes is
asleep, the other one must go to sleep too, at once." No sooner had she
uttered these words than the prince fell fast asleep, and the girl
without hands walked under the tree, and picked the fruit with her
mouth. But as there were only a few more pears left on the boughs which
she could get at, she was obliged, in order to satisfy her hunger, to
step on a little mound, and stand on tiptoe that she might reach the
fruit; whilst standing in this position she slipped, and, having no
hands to hold on with, she fell on the sleeping prince.
The shock awoke the prince at once, and, grasping the girl firmly with
his arms, he kept her fast. Next morning the king looking out of his
window discovered to his astonishment that no pears were missing, and
therefore sent a messenger into the garden to his son to inquire what
had happened? As soon as dawn began to break, the prince saw the girl's
beautiful face; the king's messenger had by this time reached the
prince, who in reply to his query, said: "Tell my father that I have
caught the thief, and I will take care not to let her escape. If my
father, the king, will not give me permission to marry her, I will never
enter his house again; tell him also, that the girl has no hands." The
king did not oppose his son's desire, and the girl without hands became
the prince's wife, and they lived happily together for a time. It
happened, however, that war broke out again with the sovereign of the
neighbouring country, and the prince was once more obliged to go with
his army. While he was away the princess was confined, and bore two
children with golden hair. The old king was highly delighted, and at
once wrote to his son informing him of the happy event. The letter was
again entrusted to the same man, who took the messages during the first
war: he on his way remembered the house where he was so well received on
a previous occasion, and arranged that he should spend the night there.
This time he found the old woman only. He got into conversation with
her, and she asked him where he was going, and what news he had from the
royal town: the messenger told her how the prince had found a beautiful
girl without hands, whom he had married, and who had had two beautiful
children. The woman at once guessed that it was her own daughter, and
that she had been deceived by her servant; she gave her guest plenty to
eat and drink, till he was quite drunk and went to sleep. Whereupon the
woman searched the messenger's bag, found the king's letter, opened it
and read it. The gist of the letter was this, "My dear son, you have
brought to my house a dear and beautiful wife, who has borne you a
beautiful golden-haired child."
The woman instantly wrote another letter, which ran thus: "You have
brought to my house a prostitute, who has brought shame upon you, for
she has been confined of two puppies." She folded the letter, sealed it
as the first had been, and put it into the messenger's bag. Next morning
the messenger left, having first been invited to spend the night at her
house on his return, as the wicked mother was anxious to know what the
prince's answer would be to the forged letter. The messenger reached the
prince, handed him the letter, which gave him inexpressible grief; but
as he was very fond of his wife he only replied, that, whatever the
state of affairs might be, no harm was to happen to his wife until his
return. The messenger took the letter back and again called upon the old
woman, who was not chary to make him drunk again and to read the reply
_clandestinely_. She was angry at the prince's answer, and wrote another
letter in his name, in which she said, that if matters were as they had
been represented to him in the letter, his wife must get out of the
house without delay, so that he might not see her upon his return.
The messenger, not suspecting anything, handed the letter to the king,
who was very much upset, and read it to his daughter-in-law. The old
king pitied his pretty and good natured daughter deeply, but what could
he do? They saddled a quiet horse, put the two golden-haired princes in
a basket and tied it in front of the princess; and thus the poor woman
was sent away amidst great lamentations.
She had been travelling without ceasing for three days, till on the
third day she came into a country where she found a lake full of magic
water, which had the power of reviving and making good the maimed limbs
of any crippled man or beast who bathed in it. So the woman without
hands took a bath in the lake, and both her hands were restored. She
washed her children's clothes in the same lake, and again continued her
journey. Not long after this the war with the neighbouring king was
over, and the prince returned home. On hearing what had happened to his
wife he fell into a state of deep grief, and became so ill that his
death was expected daily. After a long illness, however, his health
began to improve, but only very slowly, and years elapsed before his
illness and his great grief had so far been conquered that he had
strength or inclination to go out. At last he tried hunting, and spent
whole days in the forest. One day as he was thus engaged he followed a
stag, and got deeper and deeper into the thick part of the wood; in the
meantime the sun had set and darkness set in. The prince, having gone
too far, could not find his way back. But as good luck would have it he
saw a small cottage, and started in its direction to find a night's
lodging. He entered, and found a woman with two children--his wife and
two sons. The woman at once recognised the prince, who, however, did not
even suspect her to be his wife, because her hands were grown again:
but, at the same time, the great likeness struck him very much, and at
first sight he felt a great liking for the woman. On the next day he
again went out hunting with his only faithful servant, and purposely
allowed darkness to set in so that he might sleep at the cottage. The
prince felt very tired and laid down to sleep, while his wife sat at the
table sewing, and the two little children played by her side.
It happened that in his sleep the prince dropped his arm out of bed; one
of the children noticing this called his mother's attention to it,
whereupon the woman said to her son, "Place it back, my son, place it
back, it's the hand of your royal father." The child approached the
sleeping prince and gently lifted his arm back again. After a short time
the prince dropped his leg from the bed while asleep; the child again
told his mother of it, and she said, "Place it back, my son, put it
back, it's your father's leg." The boy did as he was told, but the
prince knew nothing of it. It happened, however, that the prince's
faithful servant was awake and heard every word the woman said to the
child, and told the story to his master the next day. The prince was
astonished, and no longer doubted that the woman was his wife, no matter
how she had recovered her hands. So the next day he again went out
hunting, and, according to arrangement, stayed late in the wood and had
to return to the cottage again. The prince, having gone to bed, feigned
sleep, and dropped his arm over the bed; his wife, seeing this, again
said, "Put it back, my son, put it back, it's your royal father's arm."
Afterwards he dropped his other arm, and then his two legs purposely;
and the woman in each case bade her son put them back, in the same
words. At last he let his head hang over the bedside, and his wife said
to her son, "Lift it back, my son, lift it back; it's your royal
father's head." But the little fellow, getting tired of all this,
replied, "I shan't do it; you better do it yourself this time, mother."
"Lift it back, my son," again said the mother, coaxingly; but the boy
would not obey, whereupon the woman herself went to the bed, in order to
lift the prince's head. But no sooner had she touched him than her
husband caught hold of her with both his hands, and embraced her. "Why
did you leave me?" said he, in a reproachful tone. "How could I help
leaving you," answered his wife, "when you ordered me out of your
house?" "I wrote in the letter," said the prince, "this and this;" and
told her what he had really written; and his wife explained to him what
had been read to her from the letter that had been changed. The fraud
was thus discovered, and the prince was glad beyond everything that he
had found his wife and her two beautiful children.
He at once had all three taken back to the palace, where a second
wedding was celebrated, and a great festival held. Guests were invited
from the 77th country, and came to the feast. Through the
letter-carrying messenger it became known that the cause of all the
mischief was no one else than the princess's envious mother. But the
prince forgave her all at the urgent request of his wife; and the young
couple lived for a great many years in matrimonial bliss, their family
increasing greatly. At the old king's death the whole realm fell to the
happy couple, who are still alive, if they have not died since.
THE KING AND THE DEVIL.
In the country where lions and bearded wolves live there was a king
whose favourite sport was hunting and shooting; he had some hundred
hounds or more, quite a house full of guns, and a great many huntsmen.
The king had a steady hand, a sharp eye, and the quarry he aimed at
never escaped, for the king never missed what he aimed at; his only
peculiarity was that he did not care to go out shooting with his own
people only, but he would have liked the whole world to witness his
skill in killing game, and that every good man in the world should
partake of it. Well then, whenever he made a good bag the cook and the
cellarer had so much work to do that they were not done till dawn. Such
was the king who reigned in the land where lions and bearded wolves
live.
Once upon a time this king, according to custom, invited the sovereigns
of the neighbouring lands to a great shooting party, and also their
chief men. It was in the height of summer, just at the beginning of the
dog-days. In the early morning, when they were driving out on to the
pasture the sheep with the silken fleece, the dogs could already be
heard yelping, huntsmen blowing with all their might into the thin end
of their horns, and all was noise and bustle, so that the royal
courtyard rang out with the noise. Then the king swallowed his breakfast
in a soldierlike fashion, and all put on their hunting hats adorned with
eagle's feathers, buckled the shining straps under their chins, mounted
their horses, and in a short time were off over hedges and ditches,
plunging into the vast forest, as the heat was too great for them to
hunt in the open country. Each king accompanied by his own men went in
his own direction, and game was killed with lightning speed; but the
king who owned the forest went by himself in order to show his friends
how much game he could kill single handed. But by some strange
chance--who can tell how?--no game crossed the king's track. He went
hither and thither but found nothing; looking round he discovered that
he had got into a part of the wood where not even his grandfather had
ever been; he went forward but still was lost; sideways, but still did
not know the way; to the right, and found that he was in the same
predicament as the man in Telek, namely, that unless he was taken home
he would never find it. He called upon God for help, but as he never did
that before--for the king didn't like to go to church and never invited
the priest, except upon All Souls' Day, to dinner--the Lord would not
help him; so he called upon the Devil, who appeared at once, as he will
appear anywhere, even where he is not wanted. "You need not tell me
what you are doing here, good king," said the evil spirit, "I know that
you have been out shooting and have found no game and that you have lost
your way. Promise me that you will give me what you have not got in your
house and you shall find plenty of game and I will take you home." "You
ask very little, poor soul," said the king, "Your request shall be
granted; moreover, I will give you something of what I have, whatever
you may wish, if you will but take me home."
Shortly afterwards the king arrived at home, and had so much game with
him that his horse could scarcely stand beneath the weight; the other
kings were quite impatient with waiting for him, and were highly
delighted when he arrived. At last they sat down to supper and ate and
drank heartily, but the devil ate nothing but the scrapings from the
pots and pans, and drank no wine but the dregs that were left in the
bottles. At midnight an old woman appeared before the company of jolly
kings and shouted as loud as she could in delight because a beautiful
little daughter had been born to the king. The devil jumped up and
capered about in his joy; _standing on his toes and clapping his bony
heels together, he spun the king round like a whirlwind_ and shouted in
his ear, "That girl, king, was not in your house to-day and I will come
for her in ten years." The devil hereupon saddled midnight and darted
off like lightning, while the guests stared at each other in amazement,
and the king's face turned ghastly pale.
Next morning they counted the heads of game and found that the king had
twice as much as all the rest put together: yet he was very sad; he made
presents to all his guests, and gave them an escort of soldiers as far
as the boundary of his realm.
Ten years passed as swiftly as the bird flies and the devil appeared
punctually to the minute. The king tried to put him off, and walked up
and down his room greatly agitated; he thought first of one thing and
then of another. At last he had the swineherd's daughter dressed up like
a princess, and placed her on his wife's arm, and then took her to the
devil, both parents weeping most bitterly, and then handed the child
over to the black soul. The devil carried her away in high glee, but
when the pretty little creature was passing a herd of swine she said,
"Well, little sucking pigs, my father won't beat me any more on your
account, for I'm leaving you and going to the 77th country, where the
angels live." The devil listened to the little girl's words and at last
discovered that he had been deceived; in a rage he flew back to the
royal fortress, and dashed the poor child with such force against the
gate-post that her smallest bone was smashed into a thousand atoms. He
roared at the king in such a voice that all the window fittings dropped
out and the plaster fell off the walls in great lumps. "Give me your own
daughter," he screamed, "for whatever you promise to the devil you must
give to him or else he will carry off what you have not promised." The
king again tried to collect his wits and had the shepherd's daughter who
tended the sheep with the golden fleece, and who was ten years old,
dressed in the royal fashion and handed her to the devil amidst great
lamentation. He even placed at the devil's disposal a closed carriage,
"so that the sun might not tan his daughter's face or the wind blow upon
her," as he said, but it was really to prevent the little girl seeing
what was passing and so betraying herself. As the carriage passed by the
silken meadow and the little girl heard the baaing of the lambs she
opened the door and called to the little animals, saying, "Well, little
baa-lambs, my father won't beat me any more on your account, and I won't
run after you in the heat now, because the king is sending me to the
77th country, where the angels live." The devil was now in a towering
passion, and the flame shot out of his nostrils as thick as my arm; he
threw the little girl up into the clouds and returned to the royal
palace.
The king saw the carriage returning and trembled like an aspen leaf. He
dressed up his daughter, weeping bitterly as he did so, and when the
devil stepped across the threshold of the palace he went to meet him
with the beautiful child, the like of which no other mother ever bore.
The devil, in a great rage, pushed the pretty lily into a slit of his
shirt, and ran with her over hill and dale. Like a thunderstorm he
carried off the little trembling Maria into his dark home, which was
lighted up with burning sulphur, and placed her on a pillow stuffed with
owl's feathers. He then set a black table before her, and on it mixed
two bushels of millet seed with three bushels of ashes, saying, "Now,
you little wretch, if you don't clean this millet in two hours, I will
kill you with the most horrible tortures." With this he left her, and
slammed the door that it shock the whole house. Little innocent Maria
wept bitterly, for she knew she could not possibly finish the work in
the stated time. While she wept in her loneliness, the devil's son very
quietly entered the room. He was a fine handsome lad, and they called
him Johnnie. Johnnie's heart was full of pity at seeing the little
girl's sorrow, and cheered her up, telling her that if she ceased crying
he would do the work for her at once. He felt in his pocket, and took
out a whistle; and, going into a side-room, he blew it, and in a moment
the whole place was filled with devils, whom Johnnie commanded to clean
the millet in the twinkling of an eye. By the time little Maria winked
three times, the millet was not only cleansed, but every seed was
polished and glittered like diamonds. Until the father's return Maria
and Johnnie amused themselves in childish games. The old devil upon his
return, seeing all the work done, shook his head so vehemently that
burning cinders dropped from his hair. He gave the little girl some
manna to eat and lay down to sleep.
Next day the ugly old devil mixed twice as much millet and ashes, as he
was very anxious to avenge himself on the child whose father had taken
him in twice; but, by the help of Johnnie's servants, the millet was
again cleaned. The devil in his rage gnawed off the end of his beard
and spat it out on the ground, where every hair became a venomous
serpent. The little girl screamed, and at the sound of her voice all the
serpents stretched themselves on the ground, and wriggled about before
the little girl like young eels, for they were charmed, never having
heard so sweet a voice before. The devil was very much enraged that all
the animals and the devils themselves, with the exception of himself,
were so fond of this pretty little girl. "Well, soul of a dog, you
little imp," said the devil, gnashing his teeth, "if by to-morrow
morning you do not build from nothing, under my window, a church, the
ceiling of which will be the sky, and the priest in it the Lord Himself,
whom your father does not fear, I will slay you with tortures the like
of which are not known even in nethermost hell."
Little Maria was terribly frightened. The old devil, having given his
orders, disappeared amidst thunder. The kind-hearted Johnnie here
appeared, blew his whistle, and the devils came. They listened to the
orders, but replied, that no devil could build a church out of nothing,
and that, moreover, they dare not go up to heaven and had no power over
the Lord to make him become a priest; that the only advice they could
give was, for Johnnie and the little girl to set off at once, before it
was too late, and so escape the tortures threatened by the old devil.
They listened to the advice of the devils, and Johnnie buried his
whistle in a place where his father would not be able to find it, and
send the devils after them. They hurried off towards Maria's father's
land; when, all of a sudden, Maria felt her left cheek burning very
much, and complained of it to Johnnie, who, looking back, found that his
mother was galloping after them on the stick of a whitewashing brush.
Johnnie at once saw their position, and told Maria to turn herself into
a millet field, and he would be the man whose duty it was to scare away
the birds. Maria did so at once, and Johnnie kept the sparrows off with
a rattle. The old woman soon came up, and asked whether he had not seen
a boy and girl running past, a few minutes before. "Well, yes," replied
he, "there are a great many sparrows about, my good lady, and I can't
guard my millet crop from them. Hush! Hush!" "I didn't ask you," replied
she, "whether you had any sparrows on your millet field or not; but
whether you saw a boy and girl running past." "I've already broken the
wings of two cock sparrows, and hanged them to frighten away the rest,"
replied the artful boy.
"The fellow's deaf, and crazy too," said the devil's wife, and hurried
back to the infernal regions. The boy and girl at once retransformed
themselves, and hurried on, when Maria's left cheek began to burn again,
more painfully this time than before; and not without reason, for when
Johnnie looked back this time, he saw his father, who had saddled the
south wind, tearing after them, and great, awe-inspiring, rain-bearing
clouds following in his track. Maria at once turned into a tumble-down
church, and Johnnie into an aged monk, holding an old clasp-bible in his
hand.
"I say, old fool, have you not seen a young fellow and a little wench
run past? If you have, say so; if you have not, may you be struck dumb!"
yelled the old devil to the monk with the Bible. "Come in," said the
pious monk, "come in, into the house of the Lord. If you are a good soul
pray to Him and He will help you on your journey, and you will find what
you are so anxiously looking for. Put your alms into this bag, for our
Lord is pleased with the offerings of the pure in heart." "Perish you,
your church, and your book, you old fool. I'm not going to waste any
money in such tomfoolery. Answer my question! Have you seen a boy and
girl go past?" again inquired the devil, in a fearful rage. "Come back
to your Lord, you old cursed soul," replied the holy father, "it's never
too late to mend, but it's a sin to put off amending your ways. Offer
your alms, and you will find what you seek!" The devil grew purple with
rage; and, lifting up his huge mace, he struck like lightning at the
monk's head, but the weapon slipped aside and hit the devil on the shin
such a blow that made him and all his family limp; they would limp to
this very day, if they had not perished since! Jumping on the wind with
his lame leg, the devil rode back home. The young couple by this time
had nearly reached the land where Maria's father reigned; when, all of a
sudden, both the girl's cheeks began to burn as they had never burnt
before. Johnnie looked back and saw that both his father and his mother
were riding after them on two dragons, who flew faster than even the
whirlwind. Maria at once became a silver lake and Johnnie a silver duck.
As soon as the two devils arrived they at once scented out that the lake
was the girl and the duck the boy; because wherever there are two devils
together nothing can be concealed. The woman began to scoop up the water
of the lake, and the male devil to throw stones at the duck; but each
scoop of water taken out of the lake only caused the water to rise
higher and higher; and every stone missed the duck, as he dived to the
bottom of the lake and so dodged them. The devil became quite exhausted
with throwing stones, and beckoned to his wife to wade with him into the
lake, and so catch the duck, as it would be a great pity for their son
to be restored to earth. The devils swam in, but the water of the lake
rose over their heads so quickly that they were both drowned before they
could swim out, and that's the reason why there are no devils now left.
The boy and the girl, after all their trials, at last reached the palace
of Maria's parents. The girl told them what had happened to her since
the devil carried her off, and praised Johnnie very highly, telling them
how he had guarded her. She also warned her father, that he who does not
love God must perish, and is not worthy of happiness. The king listened
to his daughter's advice, and sent for a priest to the next village, and
first of all married Maria to the son of the devil, and the young couple
lived very happily ever after. The king gave up hunting, and sent
messages to the neighbouring kings, that he was a happy father; and the
poor found protection and justice in his land. The king and his wife
both died at the same time, and, after that, Johnnie and his wife became
rulers of the land inhabited by lions and bearded wolves.
THE THREE PRINCES, THE THREE DRAGONS, AND THE OLD WOMAN WITH THE IRON
NOSE.
On the shores of the Blue Sea there was a land in which dragons grew.
This land had a king whose court was draped in black, and whose eye
never ceased to weep, because every Friday he had to send ninety-nine
men to the dragons, who were the pest of the place, and who slew and
devoured the ninety-nine human beings sent to them. The king had three
sons, each of whom was handsomer and more clever than the other. The
king was very fond of his sons, and guarded them most carefully. The
eldest was called Andrew, the next Emerich, and the youngest Ambrose.
There were no other lads left in the land, for the dragons fed on lads'
flesh only. One day Andrew and Emerich went to their father and begged
him to allow them to go and fight the dragons, as they were sure they
could conquer them, and that the dragons would not want any more human
flesh after they had been there. But the father would not even listen to
his sons' request. As for Ambrose, he did not even dare so much as to
submit such a request to his father. Andrew and Emerich, at length, by
dint of much talking, prevailed upon their father to allow them to go
and fight the dragons. Now, there were only three dragons left in the
land: one had seven heads, another eight, and the third nine; and these
three had devoured all the other dragons, when they found that there
were no more lads to be had. Andrew and Emerich joyfully galloped off
towards the copper, silver, and golden bridges in the neighbourhood of
which the dragons lived, and Ambrose was left alone to console his royal
father, who bewailed his other sons.
Ambrose's godmother was a fairy, and as it is the custom for godmothers
to give presents to their godchildren, Ambrose received a present from
his fairy godmother, which consisted of a black egg with five corners,
which she placed under Ambrose's left armpit. Ambrose carried his egg
about with him under his left armpit for seven winters and seven
summers, and on Ash Wednesday, in the eighth year, a horse with five
legs and three heads jumped out of the egg; this horse was a Tátos and
could speak.
At the time when the brothers went out to fight the dragons, Ambrose was
thirteen years and thirteen days old, and his horse was exactly five
years old. The two elder brothers had been gone some time, when he went
into the stable to his little horse, and, laying his head upon its neck,
began to weep bitterly. The little horse neighed loudly and said, "Why
are you crying, my dear master?" "Because," replied Ambrose, "I dare not
ask my father to let me go away, although I should like to do so very
much." "Go to your royal father, my dear master, for he has a very bad
attack of toothache just now, and tell him that the king of herbs sends
word to him through the Tátos-horse with three heads, that his toothache
will not cease until he gives you permission to go and fight the
dragons; and you can also tell him that if you go, there will be no more
dragons left on this earth; but if you do not go his two elder boys will
perish in the stomachs of the dragons. Tell him, also, that I have
assured you that you will be able to make the dragons vomit out, at
once, all the lads whomsoever they have swallowed; and that his land
will become so powerful when the lads, who have grown strong in the
stomachs of the dragons, return, that, while the world lasts, no nation
will ever be able to vanquish him." Thus spoke the Tátos colt, and
neighed so loudly that the whole world rang with the sound. The little
boy told his father what the Tátos colt had told him; but the king
objected for a long time, and no wonder, as he was afraid lest evil
might happen to his only son: but at last his sufferings got the better
of him, and, after objecting for three hours, he promised his son that
if the Tátos were able to carry out its promise he would give him
permission to go and fight the dragons.
As soon as he had uttered these words his toothache left him. The little
lad ran off and told the message to his little horse, which capered and
neighed with delight. "I heard you when you were bargaining," said the
horse to its little master, who in his delight didn't know what to do
with himself, "and I should have heard you even if you had been a
hundred miles away. Don't fear anything, my little master; our ride, it
is true, will be a long one, but in the end it will turn out a lucky
one. Go, my great-great-grandmother's great-great-grandmother's saddle
is there on that crooked willow; put it on me, it will fit me exactly!"
The prince ran, in fact he rushed like a madman, fetched the ragged old
saddle, put it on his horse, and tied it to a gate-post. Before leaving
his father's home, the little horse asked its little master to plug up
one of its nostrils; the prince did so, and the little horse blew upon
him with the other nostril which he had left open, when, oh, horror! the
little boy became mangy like a diseased sucking pig. The little horse,
however, turned into a horse with golden hair, and glistened like a
mirror. When the little boy caught sight of his ugly face amidst the
hair of his shining horse, he became very sad. "Plug up my other
nostril, too!" said the horse with the golden hair. At first the little
master would not do it, until the horse neighed very loudly and bade him
do it at once, as it was very unwise to delay obeying the commands of a
Tátos. So what could the poor lad do but plug up the other nostril of
the horse. The horse then opened wide its mouth, and breathed upon the
lad, who at once became a most handsome prince, worthy to be a fairy
king. "Now sit on my back, my little master, my great king, we are
worthy of each other; and there is no thing in the world that we cannot
overcome. Rejoice! You will conquer the dragons, and restore the young
men to your father's realm; only do as I bid you, and listen to no one
else."
In an hour's time they arrived on the shore of the Red Sea, which flows
into the Blue Sea. There they found an inn, and close to the inn, within
earshot, stood the copper bridge, on the other side of which the dragon
with seven heads roamed about. Andrew and Emerich were already at the
inn, and as they were very tired, they sat down and began to eat and
drink: when the new guest arrived the knives and forks dropped from the
two princes' hands; but when they learned that he, too, had come to
fight the dragons they made friends with him. They could not, however,
recognise him for all the world. Night set in, and Andrew and Emerich
had eaten and drunk too much, and became decidedly drunk, and so slept
very deeply. Ambrose ate little, drank nothing, and slept lightly. At
dawn the Tátos-horse pulled his master's hair, in order to wake him;
because it knew that the dragon had least strength at dawn, and that the
sun increased his strength. Ambrose at once jumped on horseback and
arrived at the copper bridge: the dragon heard the clattering of the
horse's hoofs, and at once flew to meet him. "Pooh!" cried the dragon
and snorted, "I smell a strange smell! Ambrose, is it you? I know you;
may you perish, you and your horse! Come on!" They fought for one hour
and three quarters. Ambrose, with two strokes, slashed six of the
dragon's heads off, but could not, for a long time succeed in cutting
off the seventh, for in it lay the dragon's magic power. But, at last,
the seventh head came off too.
The dragon had seven horses, these Ambrose fastened together, and took
them to the inn, where he tied them by the side of Emerich's horse.
Andrew and Emerich did not awake till nine o'clock, when Emerich asked
Andrew if he had killed the dragon, and Andrew asked Emerich if he had
done so; at last Ambrose told them that he had killed the dragon with
seven heads and taken away his seven horses, which he gave to Emerich,
who thanked him for them. The three then continued their journey
together as far as the silver bridge: here again they found an inn,
which stood close to the bridge. Emerich and Andrew ate and drank and
went to sleep as before; the Tátos horse, as soon as day began to break,
awoke his master, who cheerfully jumped up, dressed neatly, and left the
princes asleep. The Tátos scented the dragon quite ten miles off, and
growled like a dog, and the dragon in his rage began to throw his sparks
at them when four German miles off; they rushed upon each other and met
with a tremendous clash on the bridge; it was a very difficult task for
Ambrose to conquer this huge monster, but at last, through the skilful
manœuvring of his horse, he deprived the dragon of all his eight
heads: the eight horses belonging to the dragon he tied to a post near
the head of the eldest prince, Andrew. Andrew and Emerich did not awake
till noon, and were astonished at the sight of the splendid horses,
questioning each other as to who could have brought them there at such
an early hour, and then came to the conclusion that the prince must have
killed the dragon, and that these horses had belonged to the monster,
for no such horses ever neighed under a man before. Ambrose again
confessed that he had killed the dragon, and brought away his horses for
them. He also urged his two companions to hurry on to kill the third
dragon, or they would be too late. They all got on horseback, but in
their joy two of them had had to eat and drink, till they had more than
enough, but Ambrose, according to his custom, took but little; the two
elder brothers again went to sleep and slept like tops; but again the
little Tátos pulled Ambrose's hair, so soon as the morning star began to
glimmer.
Ambrose got up at once, and dressed even more quickly than before; for
the journey he took a small flask of wine, which he secured upon his
saddle. The horse warned its master to approach the dragon with great
caution, because it was a very excitable one, and if he got frightened
the least it would be very difficult to conquer the monster. Soon the
monster with nine heads arrived, thumped once on the golden bridge, so
that it trembled under the thump; Ambrose dashed at the dragon and
fought with it, but they could not conquer each other, although they
fought fiercely and long. At the last hug, especially, Ambrose grew so
weak that, if he had not taken a long draught from his flask he would
have been done for on the spot; the draught, however, renewed his
strength, and they dashed at each other again, but still neither could
conquer the other.
So the dragon asked Ambrose to change himself into a steel hoop and he,
the dragon, would become a flint hoop, and that they should both climb
to the top of yon rock, which was so high that the sun was only a good
span above it; and that they should roll down together, and if, while
running, the flint hoop left the rut, and, striking the steel hoop, drew
sparks therefrom, that Ambrose's head should fall off; but if on the
other hand, the steel hoop left the rut and struck the flint hoop so as
to draw sparks, then all the dragon's heads should fall off. But they
were both wise and stuck to their own ruts, rolling down in a straight
course till they reached the foot of the mountain without touching each
other, and lay down when they got to the bottom. As they could not
manage in this way, the dragon proposed: "I will become a red flame and
you will become a white one, and which ever flame reaches highest he
shall be victor." Ambrose agreed to this also; while they were
contending, they both noticed an old crow, which croaked at them from a
hollow tree; the dragon was an old acquaintance of the aged crow, and
requested it to bring in its beak as much water as would extinguish the
white flame, and promised that if he won, he would give his foe's flesh
to the crow, every bit of it.
Ambrose asked for a single drop of water, and promised the crow all the
flesh of the big-bodied dragon. The crow helped Ambrose: it soaked its
crop full of water and spat it over the red flame; thus Ambrose
conquered his last foe. He got on his horse, tied together the nine
horses of the dragon with nine heads and took them to his brothers, who
were still snoring loudly, although the sun had reached its zenith and
was hot enough to make a roast. At last the two lazy people got up, and
Ambrose divided the nine horses between them and took leave of them,
saying, "Go in peace, I myself am obliged to run wherever my eyes can
see." The two good-for-nothing brothers were secretly delighted, and
galloped off homewards. Ambrose turned himself into a small rabbit, and
as it ran over hill and dale it ran into a small hut where the three
wives of the three dragons were seated. The wife of the dragon with
seven heads took it into her lap and stroked it for a long time, and
thus addressed it: "I don't know whether Ambrose has killed my husband;
if he has, there will be a plague in the world, because I will turn into
a great pear tree, and the odour of its fruit will be smelt seven miles
off, and will be sweet to the taste but deadly poison. The tree which
thus grows from me will not dry up till Ambrose plunge his sword into
its root, then both it and myself will die." Then the wife of the dragon
with eight heads also took the little rabbit in her lap, and spoke thus:
"If Ambrose has killed my husband there will be a plague in the world, I
can tell you! because in my sorrow I will change into a spring; there
will be eight streams flowing out of this spring, each one of which will
run eight miles, where it again will sub-divide into eight more
branches. And whoever drinks of the water will die; but if Ambrose wash
his sword in my blood--which is the water of the spring--all the water
will at once dry up and I shall die." Then the wife of the dragon with
nine heads spoke to the rabbit, saying, "If Ambrose has killed my
husband, in my sorrow I will change into a huge bramble, and will
stretch all over the world, all along the highroads. And whoever trips
over me, will die; but if Ambrose cut my stalk in two anywhere the
bramble will dry up everywhere and I shall die."
Having listened to all this, the little rabbit scampered off out of the
hut; but an old woman with an iron nose, the mother of the three
dragons, chased him, and chased him over hill and dale: he ran, and
rushed about, till at length he overtook his brothers; jumping on his
little horse's back, he continued his journey at his leisure. As they
travelled on, his eldest brother longed for some good fruit; just then
they saw a fine pear tree, whereupon Ambrose jumped from his horse, and
plunged his sword into the roots of the tree, and drew blood, and a
moaning voice was heard. They travelled on for a few miles, when Emerich
all of a sudden became very thirsty: he discovered a spring, and jumped
off his horse in order to drink, but Ambrose was first to arrive at the
water; when, plunging his sword into it, it became blood, and fearful
screams were heard, and in one moment the whole of the water dried up.
From this point Ambrose galloped on in front till he left his brothers
two miles behind, because he knew that the bramble was stretching far
along the country road; he cut it in two, blood oozed out, and the
bramble at once dried up. Having thus cleared away all dangers from his
brothers' way, he blest them and separated from them.
The brothers went home, but the old woman with the iron nose persecuted
Ambrose more than ever, being in a great rage at his having killed her
sons and her daughters-in-law. Ambrose ran as hard as he could, for he
had left his horse with his brothers; but when he was quite exhausted
and had lost all confidence in himself, he ran into a smithy, and
promised the smith that he would serve him for two years for nothing if
he would hide him safely and well. The bargain was soon struck, and no
sooner had the smith hidden him than the old woman appeared on the spot
and inquired after a youth: she described his figure, the shape of his
eyes and mouth, height, colour of his moustache and hair, dress, and
general appearance. But the smith was not such a fool as to betray the
lad who had engaged to work at his anvil for him for two years for
nothing. So the old witch with the iron nose got to know nothing and
left the place growling. One day Ambrose was perspiring heavily by the
side of the anvil, so at eventide he went for a short walk in the road
in order to get a mouthful of fresh air. When he had nearly reached the
edge of the wood, which was only at a dog's trot from the smithy, he met
a very old woman with wizened face, whose carriage was drawn by two
small cats: the old woman began to ogle little Ambrose, making sheep's
eyes at him, like fast young women do. "May hell swallow you, you old
hag," said Ambrose to her angrily, "I see you have still such foolish
ideas in your head, although you have grown so old!" Having said this he
gave the carriage in which the witch sat, a kick, but poor Ambrose's
right foot stuck fast to the axle, and the two cats scampered off over
hill and dale with him until he suddenly discovered that he was trotting
in hell, and saw old Pilate staring at him. The old witch with the iron
nose--because it was she who had the carriage and pair of cats--fell
over head and ears in love with the young lad, and at once asked him to
marry her.
Ambrose shuddered when he heard this repulsive, unnatural request. "Very
well," said the woman with the iron nose, "as you don't intend to marry
me, into jail you go! twelve hundred-weight of iron on your feet!" Nine
black servants seized hold of poor Ambrose, at once, and took him nine
miles down into the bowels of the earth, and fastened a piece of iron
weighing twelve hundred-weight on his feet and secured it with a lock.
The poor lad wept and groaned, but no one had admission to where he was,
with the exception of the old witch and one of her maids. The maid of
the witch with the iron nose was not quite such an ugly fright as her
wizened old mistress, in fact she was such a pretty girl that one would
have to search far for a prettier lass. She commenced to visit Ambrose
in his prison rather often, sometimes even when the old witch did not
dream of it--to tell the truth, she fell head over ears in love with the
lad, nor did Ambrose dislike the pretty girl; on the contrary, he
promised to marry her if she were able to effect his escape from his
deep prison. The girl did not require any further coaxing, but commenced
plotting at once. At last she hit upon a scheme, and thus spoke to her
darling Ambrose: "You cannot get out of this place, unless you marry the
old woman with the iron nose. She having once become your wife will
reveal to you all her secrets; she will also tell you how she manages to
keep alive so long, and by what ways and means she may be got rid of."
Ambrose followed her instructions and was married to the old witch by a
clergyman--there are clergy even in hell, as many as you want. The first
night Ambrose, after having for a long time been kissing and making love
to the old iron nose, asked her: "What keeps you alive for so long, and
when do you think you will die? I don't ask these questions, my dearest
love," he added, flatteringly, "as if I wished for your death, but
because I should like to use those means myself which prolong your life
and keep away everything from me which would shorten life, and thus
preserve me, living long and happily with you." The old woman at first
was half inclined to believe his words, but while meditating over what
she had just heard, she suddenly kicked out in bed, and Ambrose flew
three miles into hell in his fright.
But the result of all the questioning and flattering in the end was that
the old woman confessed. She confided to him that she kept a wild boar
in the silken meadow, and if it were killed, they would find a hare
inside, inside the hare a pigeon, inside the pigeon a small box, inside
the little box one black and one shining beetle: the shining beetle held
her life, the black one her power; if those two beetles died then her
life would come to an end, too. As soon as the old woman went out for a
drive--which she had to do every day--Ambrose killed the wild boar, took
out the hare, from the hare the pigeon, from the pigeon the box, and
from the box the two beetles: he killed the black one at once, but kept
the shining one alive. The old witch's power left her immediately. When
she returned home her bed had to be made for her. Ambrose sat by her
bedside and looked very sad, and asked her with tears if she, who was
the other half of his soul, died what would become of him, who was a man
from earth and a good soul, who had no business there. "In case I die,
my dear husband," said the doomed woman, in a mild voice, "open with the
key which I keep in my bosom yon black closet in the wall. But you can't
remove the key from my bosom until I am dead. In the closet you will
find a small golden rod; with this rod you must strike the side of the
castle in which we are, and it will become a golden apple. You, then,
can get into the upper world by harnessing my two cats in my carriage,
and by whipping them with the golden rod." Hereupon Ambrose killed the
shining beetle too, and her pára (animal soul) left the old witch at
once.
He then struck the castle side with the golden rod, and it turned into
an apple; having harnessed the two cats and patted them with the golden
rod, he bade the maid sit by him, and in a wink they reached the upper
world. The maid had been kidnapped by the old witch with the iron nose
from the king of the country in the upper world, in whose land the mouth
of hell was situated. Ambrose placed the golden apple in the prettiest
part of the country and tapped its side with the rod and it became a
beautiful castle of gold, in which he married his sweetheart and lived
with her happily. Some time after he returned to his father's land,
where an immense number of strong soldiers had grown up since Ambrose
had killed the dragons. The old king distributed his realm among his
three sons, giving the most beautiful empires to Ambrose, who took his
father to him and kept him in great honour. His wife bore pretty
children who rode out every day on the Tátos.
THE WIDOWER AND HIS DAUGHTER.
I don't know in what country, in which county, in which district, in
which village, in which street, in which corner, there lived a poor
widower, and not far from him a rich widow. The widower had a beautiful
daughter. The widow had two who were not very pretty, and were rather
advanced in years. The widower married the widow and they combined the
two households and lived together. The husband was as fond of his wife's
daughters as of his own; but the woman liked her own daughters better
than her husband's child, and the two older girls loved their parents
truly but disliked their pretty sister very much. The poor man was very
sad at this, but could not help it.
Once upon a time there was a fair held in the town, which was not far
from the village, and the husband had to go to the fair. The two elder
girls and their loving mother asked for no end of pretty dresses they
wished their father to bring them from the fair: but the pretty girl of
the poor man did not dare to open her mouth to ask for anything. "Well,
my daughter, what shall I bring for you?" asked the poor man, in a sad
voice; "why don't you speak? You shall have something, too." "Don't
bring me anything," replied the pretty little girl, "but three walnuts,
and I shall be satisfied; a little girl does not want any pretty dresses
as yet." The poor man went to the fair and brought home many showy
dresses, red shoes, and bracelets. The two girls rummaged among the
heaps of pretty things; they threw about the coloured ribbons, golden
rings, and artificial flowers; they tried on their heads the various
Turkish shawls, and tried the effect of paints on their faces; they
skipped about and sang in their joy; they cheerfully embraced their
mother and highly praised their father's choice. At last, having got
tired of looking at the things, everyone put away her share into her
closet. The pretty little girl placed the three walnuts in her bosom and
felt very sad. The two elder girls could hardly wait for Sunday. They
dressed up most showily; they painted their faces, and as soon as the
bells began to ring ran to church and stuck themselves in the front pew.
Before leaving home, however, they gave the pretty little girl some very
dirty wheat and ordered her to clean it--about half a bushel full--by
the time they came back from church. The little girl began to sort the
wheat weeping, and her tears mingled with the wheat; but her complaining
was heard in Heaven and the Lord sent her a flock of white pigeons who
in a minute picked out the dirt and the tares from among the wheat, and
in another minute flew back to where they had come from. The little girl
gave thanks to Providence and cried no more. She fetched her three
walnuts in order to eat them, but as she opened the first one a
beautiful copper dress fell out of it; from the second a silver one; and
from the third a glittering gold one. She was highly delighted, and at
once locked the two walnuts in which the gold and silver dresses were,
safely in a cupboard. She put on the copper dress, hurried off to
church, and sat down in the last pew all among the old women: and lo!
the whole congregation stood up to admire her, so that the clergyman was
obliged to stop in his sermon: the two old maids looked back quite
surprised and found that the new comer's dress was ever so much prettier
than their own.
It happened that the king's son was also present in whose country the
village was and in which village the poor man and his new wife lived.
The beautiful girl dressed in the glittering copper dress was at once
noticed by the king's son who was at that time looking for a wife all
over the country. As soon as the pretty little girl noticed that the
sermon was coming to an end she left her seat and ran home in order to
get undressed before her step-mother and her two sisters got home. The
king sent a flunkey after her and gave him orders to note the door where
the pretty girl entered; but the swift girl ran much quicker than the
king's servant, and he lost her. She undressed in a great hurry, and by
the time that her two sisters got home in company with their young men
she had her copper dress put away in the walnut and locked it in a
cupboard and donned her ordinary every-day dress, which was very clean,
and was found in the act of fanning the fire under a pot full of
cabbage, and making herself busy about the kitchen in general. "Poor
orphan, you have not seen any thing," exclaimed the two eldest sisters,
who were in high spirits. "The king's son was at church, he sat just
opposite, for a while he kept his eyes fixed on us as if enchanted. You
did not see that, did you? At the beginning of the sermon, however, such
a beautiful girl, dressed in such a gorgeous dress, came in the like of
which no human eye has ever seen before." "I did see that pretty girl as
she turned the corner of the street." "From where did you see her?" at
once asked the envious sisters. "I got on the ladder and went up to the
chimney and saw her from there." "Indeed, then you spent your time
gaping about. You will catch it when father comes home and finds the
wheat unpicked." And they rushed to the place where the wheat was kept,
but lo! the wheat was as clean as washed gold, and the tares and the
dirt had been removed from the house.
In the afternoon the ladder was taken away from the front of the house,
so that the orphan girl should not be able to get on it any more. In
the afternoon the church bells were again heard ringing. The two elder
girls dressed up even more showily than before and went to church. The
prince also put in his appearance. The little orphan girl had twice as
much wheat meted out to her, and they threatened that if it was not
cleaned by the time they came home they would maltreat her. The little
girl set to work in great sorrow, but white pigeons came, twice as many
as in the morning. The wheat got cleaned like gold in one minute. The
little girl at once opened the second walnut, and the silver dress,
shining like moonbeams, unfolded itself. She went to church and sat in
the same seat where she sat in the morning. The prince took out his
eyeglass and eyed the pretty girl in the silver dress. He nearly
devoured her with his eyes. The girl did not stay long in her place, and
at a moment when nobody was looking she stole out of the church and ran
home. The king's flunkey again was unable to find out her abode. When
the two sisters came home the little girl was filling the cleaned wheat
into bags ready to be carried up into the loft. "Don't carry it up
yet--wait a moment," said the two sisters to her. "You have never seen
and will never behold in all your life what we saw to-day. The fairy
girl of this morning came this afternoon to church dressed in pure
silver; she gleamed like moonlight." "I've seen her," said the orphan
girl, with a meek smile; "I got on the hoarding and stood on the top
rail and saw her as she slipped out of church." "And how about the
wheat; let's have a look at it. We suppose you spent all your time
gaping again. Father will give it to you," said the two wicked girls.
But the wheat was all clean, and would have been so if it had been as
much more. They drove a lot of sharp nails into the top of the hoarding,
in order to prevent the orphan girl getting on to it.
The two elder girls anxiously waited for the coming Sunday, as they were
eager to show off some of their new dresses they had never had on
before. Sunday at last arrived, and the two elder girls dressed up ever
so much more gorgeously than before. They put on their rings; tied on
many coloured bows; put on red shoes; and rouged their faces. They went
off in great hurry as soon as the bells began. The prince again was
present, and some of his friends with him. The two elder girls tried
their best to look charming: they screwed up their mouths to make them
look small; they piously bent their heads on one side, and kept on
adjusting their ribbons and bows. Whenever the prince, or any of his
friends looked at them they coyly cast down their eyes and played with
their nosegays. The little girl was again left at home; they gave her
three times as much dirty wheat to pick as on the first occasion, and
threatened her that if by the time they came home she did not get it
picked her father would give her a sound thrashing. The pigeons again
came to assist the pretty child, there were three times as many as at
first, and her wheat was again picked in a minute. The little girl
opened the third nut, and, dressed in the golden dress, went to church,
and sat down in her usual place. The congregation was more astounded
than ever; the women and girls jumped up from their seats. They did not
listen to the sermon, but kept staring at the fairy little girl, and
whispered to each other. The prince was determined that the girl must
become his wife, whatever happened; but the fairy-like girl again
slipped away, and the king's servant followed her, until he saw her run
into a house, whereupon he marked it by sticking a gold rose into the
gate-post. The little girl did not notice this. The elder girls came
running home. "If you lived for another thousand years you would not see
such a beauty as we saw to-day. We saw a pretty creature dressed in pure
gold; we don't think there is another in the whole world like her." "I
saw her," said the little girl, laughing; "I climbed on the mulberry
tree and followed her with my eyes from the street corner all the way to
church." "And how about the wheat; is it picked?" "The Lord has helped
me," said the good little child, "as He always will help orphans." The
mulberry tree was cut down the very same afternoon.
In the afternoon the girls did not bring home any more news from church;
they did not inquire any more whether the wheat had been cleaned,
because they noticed that their step-father was very angry with them for
their having shown so much envy against their sister. The poor father
led his little girl to the cottage of a widow who lived at the end of
the village, and who herself had no children. There she was kept for
several weeks on rather scanty food. The prince had not come to church
for several Sundays; but, after the lapse of three months, three weeks,
and three days, at three in the afternoon, three quarters, and three
minutes, he came on foot into the village, where he had seen the pretty
girl. He had only his servant with him. They examined every gate-post,
and at last found the golden rose which the servant had stuck there.
They entered the cottage, wherein they found an old woman seated reading
her prayers. "Is there a girl in this cot?" inquired the prince. "Yes,
your highness," replied the old woman, "there are two, and either of
them is well worthy of a prince's love." "Call them, my old mother, call
them both; my heart will then recognise its choice."
"Here they are my lord and prince," said the mother with a joyful face,
having in about half an hour got her two daughters dressed up as well as
she could. "The choice of my heart is not among them;" said the prince,
sadly, "have you no more daughters, good woman? call also the third if
you value my happiness." "The Lord has not given me any more, these two
are quite enough, you cannot find any prettier or better in the whole
village." "Haven't you got a husband and hasn't he got a daughter?"
asked the prince, in great sorrow. "My husband is dead," said the old
hag, "it is three years since he was put into his grave." "Let us go on
then, my lord and prince," said the servant, "and we shall find her if
it please the Lord." As they passed through the gate the servant took
the golden rose from the crack in the gate-post and threw it to the
winds. The golden rose thereupon quietly floated in the air above the
heads of the prince and his servant. The fortune-seekers followed the
rose, mumbling prayers, till at the end of the village it dropped on the
ground in front of the gate of the last cot. "Let's go in here, my lord
and prince, as our prayer has brought us here." "If the Lord call us,
let us enter, my faithful servant," replied the prince. A cock crowed
just as they stepped across the threshold, and a very poor old woman
greeted the guests. "Have you a daughter, my old mother?" inquired the
prince graciously. "No, my lord; I never had one," said the old woman
sadly. "If not, don't you keep an orphan? The Lord will preserve the
good mother who takes care of the orphan, as well as the orphan." "Yes,
my lord, but she has no dress fit to appear in, and she is not a bit
worthy of your looking at her; she is naughty and does not like work,
and for this reason her step-mother has cast her off. Her father
supplies in secret her daily food." "The Lord will provide for him who
is in need," said the prince. "Call her; never mind how ugly she is, or
how badly she is clad. I like to make orphans happy." After much
pressing the wretch of an old woman at last produced the little girl,
who looked very poor, but was very cleanly dressed; her face was as soft
as dew. The prince recognised at the first glance the beautiful figure
and the charming features.
"I'm not sorry for the trouble I have taken," said the prince, and
embraced the pretty girl. He gave rich presents to the poor woman, and
took his long-sought-for sweetheart with him. On his way home the
servant reminded his master that it would not be the proper thing to
bring the prince's bride home in such a sorry plight. The prince found
his servant's remark correct. They had only to walk about three miles to
reach the frontier of land where the prince's father reigned. They came
to a round lake where they halted, and on its bank stood a large
weeping willow, so they made the girl sit among the branches and
advised her not to leave her place until they returned with the golden
dresses and the royal carriage. Thereupon they left. The little girl had
hidden the three walnuts in her bosom and in order to surprise her
bridegroom she put on her golden dress and thus dressed awaited his
return. No sooner had she finished her toilet than a whole troop of
gipsy women arrived under the tree on which she sat in her golden dress.
The gipsy women at once questioned her, why she sat there? whom she
expected? and where she was going! She, in her innocence, was not afraid
of them, and told them of her descent, narrated them her past
vicissitudes, her present good fortune, and also confided to them that
she was preparing a joke for her royal bridegroom, and showed her
walnuts and her glittering dresses in them. The prettiest of the gipsy
women climbed on the tree and commenced to flatter her. She asked her to
be allowed to see her walnuts, and in one moment, when the girl was off
her guard, pushed her from the tree down into the lake. To the great
amazement of the gipsies the girl transformed herself into a gold duck,
and flew to the centre of the lake, and, alighting on the water, began
to swim. Thereupon the gipsy women began to throw stones at her, which,
however, she evaded by diving under water. The women at last got tired
of throwing stones, and left the gold duck in the lake, and the gipsy
woman among the branches of the weeping willow. The prince arrived at
sunset at the tree where he had left his pretty _fiancée_. When lo! he
discovered the woman in the golden dress. He admired her golden raiment,
and begged her to tell him where she had got her golden dress. The gipsy
told him what the girl had related to her, and asked him his forgiveness
for not having mentioned it when she first saw him at the widow's cot,
and made the prince believe that she had kept silence about it solely
because she wished to find out whether he loved her in her poor dress.
The prince believed every word the gipsy said, and begged her to come
down and sit in his carriage, and to drive home with him to his royal
father's palace. As the prince assisted the gipsy woman down from the
willow, the tanned face of his _fiancée_ looked to him as something most
extraordinary. "You were not so sunburnt, my dear, when I left you; what
made your skin get so discoloured?" "My tender skin got discoloured from
the broiling rays of the sun," replied the wicked soul; "let me get into
the shade and in a few days I shall become pale again." The prince
believed it and bade her sit in his carriage. "I can't leave here until
you shoot that gold duck, I should like to have a bit of it at my
wedding feast," said the false one. The bridegroom and his servants
tried for a long time to hit the golden bird, they wasted a vast amount
of powder and shot; but still the golden duck was unhurt because it
always dived under the water.
The dusky woman looked very much disheartened when she took her seat in
the prince's coach, but he soon revived her spirits by sweet and kind
words, and in a short time they arrived at home. The old king did not at
all like the looks of his future daughter-in-law, but on his son
assuring him that in a few days she would regain her fairy-like beauty
his mind was set at ease. They lived together for several months and the
young wife was still sunburnt, and so the prince gradually got cool
towards her. The gipsy woman noticed this, and in order to revive the
spirits of her royal husband she announced it all over the town and in
the adjacent villages that there would be a great feather-picking, held
henceforth three times a week in the royal palace, and everybody rich
and poor was invited, the queen being glad to see anyone. The golden
duck had flown after the coach when the queen was driven home, and,
having regained her girl-form, entered service not far from the royal
mansion and worked diligently. She too went to the first feather-picking
meeting, and, not saying a word to anyone, sat at the end of the table
and made herself busy. "Well, my dear queen and wife," said the prince,
"tell the good work-people here the pretty story which happened to you
when your envious sisters would not let you go to church. Tell them also
who helped you to clean the wheat." The gipsy did not know anything
about these events; but still commenced to chatter away whatever came
into her head first. She told them, among other things, that she had
crept through the keyhole in the gate, and collected all the girls in
the neighbourhood, with whose help she finished her wheat-cleaning.
"That wasn't so, most gracious queen," said a girl, with a pretty voice,
who was very shabbily dressed but looked very clean; "it was from the
chimney stack, and from the top of the hoarding, and from among the
branches of the mulberry tree, from where the orphan girl did her
peeping. But the poor orphan girl only told an innocent fib. It was the
same girl with whom the prince fell in love, whom her half-sisters had
cast off, for whom the prince searched with his servant, whom he seated
in the willow tree, and whom you pushed into the lake, whom your husband
tried to shoot. That orphan girl is nobody else but myself." The prince
at once recognised his sweetheart. His wife thereupon fainted away. She
soon recovered however.
The king made an example of the gipsy woman for her wicked deed: he had
her quartered, and burnt, and then married the little orphan girl. He
had her stepmother cast into prison, and her two daughters' hair cut,
which he ordered to be burnt and cast to the winds: he also took the
orphan girl's father to his court, and married him to the widow at whose
cot he had found his wife. The poor little orphan girl's and her
father's wedding were celebrated together. There was plenty to eat and
drink, so that even the orphan children had rice to eat. Behind the door
there stood a sack in which the Danube and the Theiss were kept. I too
was among the dancing guests, and had a long spur made of straw on my
boot; somebody pushed me by accident, and my spur knocked a hole in the
sack in which the Danube and Theiss were kept; so the water all ran out
and engulphed me, and washed me ashore, not far from here. If you don't
believe my story, here I am!
THE WISHES.
There were 10,000 wagons rolling along the turnpike road, in each wagon
there were 10,000 casks, in each cask 10,000 bags, in each bag 10,000
poppy seeds, in each poppy seed 10,000 lightnings. May all these
thunderous lightnings strike him who won't listen to my tale, which I
have brought from beyond the Operencian Sea!
There was once, it doesn't matter where: there was once upon a time, a
poor man who had a pretty young wife; they were very fond of each other.
The only thing they had to complain of was their poverty, as neither of
them owned a farthing; it happened, therefore, sometimes, that they
quarrelled a little, and then they always cast it in each other's teeth
that they hadn't got anything to bless themselves with. But still they
loved each other.
One evening the woman came home much earlier than her husband and went
into the kitchen and lighted the fire, although she had nothing to cook.
"I think I can cook a little soup, at least, for my husband. It will be
ready by the time he comes home." But no sooner had she put the kettle
over the fire, and a few logs of wood on the fire in order to make the
water boil quicker, than her husband arrived home and took his seat by
the side of her on the little bench. They warmed themselves by the fire,
as it was late in the autumn and cold. In the neighbouring village, they
had commenced the vintage on that very day. "Do you know the news,
wife?" inquired he. "No, I don't. I've heard nothing; tell me what it
is." "As I was coming from the squire's maize-field, I saw in the dark,
in the distance, a black spot on the road. I couldn't make out what it
was, so I went nearer, and lo! do you know what it was?--A beautiful
little golden carriage, with a pretty little woman inside, and four fine
black dogs harnessed to it." "You're joking," interrupted the wife. "I'm
not, indeed, it's perfectly true. You know how muddy the roads about
here are; it happened that the dogs stuck fast with the carriage and
they couldn't move from the spot; the little woman didn't care to get
out into the mud, as she was afraid of soiling her golden dress. At
first, when I found out what it was, I had a good mind to run away, as I
took her for an evil spirit, but she called out after me and implored me
to help her out of the mud; she promised that no harm should come to me,
but on the contrary she would reward me. So I thought that it would be a
good thing for us if she could help us in our poverty; and with my
assistance the dogs dragged her carriage out of the mud. The woman asked
me whether I was married. I told her I was. And she asked me if I was
rich. I replied, not at all; I didn't think, I said, that there were two
people in our village who were poorer than we. That can be remedied,
replied she. I will fulfil three wishes that your wife may propose. And
she left as suddenly as if dragons had kidnapped her: she was a fairy."
"Well, she made a regular fool of you!"
"That remains to be seen; you must try and wish something, my dear
wife." Thereupon the woman without much thought said: "Well, I should
like to have some sausage, and we could cook it beautifully on this nice
fire." No sooner were the words uttered than a frying-pan came down the
chimney, and in it a sausage of such length that it was long enough to
fence in the whole garden. "This is grand" they both exclaimed together.
"But we must be a little more clever with our next two wishes; how well
we shall be off! I will at once buy two heifers and two horses, as well
as a sucking pig," said the husband. Whereupon he took his pipe from his
hatband, took out his tobacco-pouch, and filled his pipe; then he tried
to light it with a hot cinder, but was so awkward about it that he upset
the frying-pan with the sausage in it. "Good heavens! the sausage; what
on earth are you doing! I wish that sausage would grow on to your nose,"
exclaimed the frightened woman, and tried to snatch the same out of the
fire, but it was too late, as it was already dangling from her husband's
nose down to his toes. "My Lord Creator help me!" shouted the woman.
"You see, you fool, what you've done, there! now the second wish is
gone," said her husband, "what can we do with this thing?" "Can't we get
it off?" said the woman. "Take off the devil! Don't you see that it has
quite grown to my nose; you can't take it off." "Then we must cut it
off," said she, "as we can do nothing else." "I shan't permit it: how
could I allow my body to be cut about? not for all the treasures on
earth; but do you know what we can do, love? there is yet one wish left;
you'd better wish that the sausage go back to the pan, and so all will
be right." But the woman replied, "How about the heifers and the horses,
and how about the sucking pig; how shall we get those?" "Well, I can't
walk about with this ornament, and I'm sure you won't kiss me again with
this sausage dangling from my nose." And so they quarrelled for a long
time, till at last he succeeded in persuading his wife to wish that the
sausage go back to the pan. And thus all three wishes were fulfilled;
and yet they were as poor as ever.
They, however, made a hearty meal of the sausage; and as they came to
the conclusion that it was in consequence of their quarrelling that they
had no heifers, nor horses, nor sucking pig, they agreed to live
thenceforth in harmony together; and they quarrelled no more after this.
They got on much better in the world, and in time they acquired heifers,
horses, and a sucking pig into the bargain, because they were
industrious and thrifty.
THE TWO ORPHANS.
There was once, I know not where, even beyond the Operencian Land, a
village, and at the end of the village a little hovel. Within the
tumble-down walls of this hovel a poor old woman was lying on some
rotting straw, and two children were crying by her side. The elder was a
pretty girl. The younger was her brother, a small boy with auburn hair.
The old mother died. Her cold body was buried by the parish; but, as
none offered themselves to take charge of the two orphans, they left the
place. They went and went, over many a hill and dale, and had already
covered a long distance when Jack felt burning thirst. They found in the
road some turbid water in a rut, at the sight of which the thirsty
little fellow shouted for joy. "My dear sister, I will drink from this
rut." "Don't drink from it," said his thoughtful sister, "or you will
turn into a cart-wheel if you do." Jack sighed, and they went on their
way. They found some bears' tracks in which some stale rain-water was
putrifying. "My dear sister, I'm thirsty, allow me to drink of this
rain-water." "If you drink, my dear brother, you will become a bear."
The little fellow began to cry, but obeyed, and they went on. In the
road they found some footprints of a wolf. Jack again implored his
sister, with tears, and repeated his former request. "Don't drink, my
dear Jack, or else you will become a wolf." Jack, although his tongue
was parched with burning thirst, obeyed, and they continued their walk
quite exhausted. They found the footmarks of a roebuck in the road.
Water clear as crystal shone in them, that invited him to drink. Jack's
feet gave way under him when he reached the water, and, in spite of all
warning, he drank of it with avidity. His sister, seeing her fear
realised, began to cry. The beautiful auburn locks of her brother
suddenly turned to a soft grayish hair, and horns grew behind his ears.
His legs and arms became the four legs of a roedeer, and the pretty
little creature rubbed gently against his sister, who stroked him with
her pretty hands. The little girl and her brother, the roebuck,
continued their journey till at last they reached the king's palace,
where the young monarch received them with smiles, and offered them a
tidy little room. The little girl lived with her brother here, and,
although she forbade him to speak before others, they would chat when
left alone, their conversation turning mainly upon their deceased good
mother, their journey, the handsome young king, and his frequent hunts.
After several weeks the pretty girl received a royal splendid dress and
was married to the young king.
The fame of their wedding travelled over seven countries. The loving
couple lived contentedly together; the queen was pretty and good, and
her husband was madly in love with her. The little deer kept continually
by his sister's side; they ate from the same plate, and drank out of the
same glass, and slept in the same room; but this happiness did not last
long. There lived in the king's country an old witch, with iron teeth,
who had a very ugly daughter, whose face was black, her eyes were
yellow, her nose was full of warts, her teeth like hoes, her voice
screeching, her waist crooked; and, besides all this, she was lame of
one foot. It was the old witch's determination to make this creature the
queen of the realm. As she was frustrated in her design she raved. In
her fury she tore up bits of rocks, and dried up whole forests. She
vowed death upon the poor orphan's head; and, in order to cheer up her
ugly daughter's long forlorn hope, she prophecied the queen's death, and
thus spoke: "Dear child, beloved Lucinda, would you like to be a queen?
if so, go secretly into the king's palace, and when the king is out
hunting, steal near the queen in her sleep, and cut off a large lock of
her hair, and bring it to me. Mind where you step, and keep an eye on
every movement of hers." Lucinda dressed herself in a cloak with grey
and red stripes, and at dead of night she reached the king's palace, and
without arousing suspicion stole into the queen's bedroom. She spread
her cloak on the floor, so that she might not awake the sleeping queen
with its rustling as she moved about, and at her mother's sign she
approached the queen's bed on tiptoe, and cut off a beautiful lock with
a rusty old knife: the little deer did not wake. In the morning, the
witch wrapt the beautiful auburn lock in the lungs of a toad, and
roasted it over the embers of some yew boughs which were cut on
Christmas night. After a while, with the ointment thus made, the old
witch rubbed Lucinda from head to foot, who became the next moment an
exact likeness of the young queen. Now the old witch began to ponder how
to do away with the young queen, and at last she hit upon a plan. There
lived at court a miserly gate-keeper, whom she bribed with gold, and
with his assistance, in the absence of the king, they broke into the
queen's bedroom at night, and dragged away by force the poor innocent
woman; the little deer woke at the noise, and followed the murderers at
a distance.
In a secluded corner of the courtyard there was an old disused
stone-well, and in this well lived a huge whale; they threw the pretty
queen to the bottom of this well, and in her now empty bed Lucinda was
placed, whose outer appearance was not in the slightest different from
that of the queen, so that when the king arrived at home he did not
notice the awful fraud. The little deer henceforward spent all his days
near the well, which circumstance did not escape the notice of the
quick-eyed old witch. So she instructed her daughter to persuade her
royal husband to have the deer killed, and in order to carry this out,
she planned the following scheme. Lucinda shammed deadly illness, her
mother having previously changed her red complexion to yellow; her
husband sat every day and night by her bedside, while the little deer
still spent all his time by the well. They could not find any medicine
which could give the patient relief, when Lucinda, as planned
beforehand, expressed a desire to have the deer's heart and liver cooked
for her. Her husband was horrified on hearing this unexpected wish, and
began to suspect his wife. He could not believe that she could wish to
have her dear little animal, which she idolized, killed; but Lucinda
would not give in, until at last the king, being very much concerned
about his wife's recovery, allowed himself to be persuaded, and gave
orders to one of his cooks to have the deer killed. The deer heard quite
well what Lucinda wished and what the orders were, but kept silence;
and, in order not to arouse suspicion, went back to its favourite place,
the well, where, in its deep grief, it thus spoke down into the whale's
dwelling:
My little sister, my little sister,
You dear little sister,
Come out of the well,
Out of the whale's stomach,
Because they are whetting the knife
For my gentle breast,
They are washing the basin
For my beautiful red blood.
When the cook, clasping a long knife, stole up to the
little animal in order to drag it to the slaughter-house, the deer
repeated his mournful song, upon hearing which the cook got frightened
and ran away and informed the king of what he had heard and seen.
Thereupon the king determined to personally satisfy himself as to
whether his tale was true. The little deer thereupon cried twice as
mournfully as before, and amid tears sang out the same song as before.
The king now stepped forward from his hiding-place, and the deer, upon
being questioned, told him the story how the witch and the gate-keeper
dragged his sister out of bed, and how they threw her into the well. As
soon as the pretty animal finished its tale, the huge whale was dragged
out from the bottom of the well; they slit open its stomach, and the
real queen appeared, now seven times prettier than before; her husband
himself assisted her and conducted her back to the palace in triumph.
Lucinda, her mother, and the gate-keeper were quartered, and their
bodies exhibited at the four corners of the castle as a warning to
everybody. The queen anointed her little brother with some ointment she
had found in the whale's stomach, and he regained his old form. And so
all three of them are alive to this very date, if they have not died
since. May they get into an egg shell and be your guests to-morrow.
THE WONDERFUL FROG.
There was once, I don't know where, a man who had three daughters. One
day the father thus spoke to the eldest girl: "Go, my daughter, and
fetch me some fresh water from the well." The girl went, but when she
came to the well a huge frog called out to her from the bottom, that he
would not allow her to draw water in her jug until she threw him down
the gold ring on her finger. "Nothing else? is that all you want?"
replied the girl, "I won't give away my rings to such an ugly creature
as you," and she returned as she came with the empty pitchers. So the
father sent the second girl, and she fared as the first; the frog would
not let her have any water, as she refused to throw down her gold ring.
Her father gave his two elder daughters a good scolding, and then thus
addressed the youngest: "You go, Betsie, my dear, you have always been a
clever girl: I'm sure you will be able to get some water, and will not
allow your father to suffer thirst; go, shame your sisters!" Betsie
picked up the pitchers and went, but the frog again refused the water
unless she threw her ring down; but she, as she was very fond of her
father, threw the ring in as demanded, and returned home with full
pitchers to her father's great delight.
In the evening, as soon as darkness set in, the frog crawled out of the
well, and thus commenced to shout in front of Betsie's father's door:
"Father-in-law! father-in-law! I should like something to eat." The man
got angry, and called out to his daughters; "Give something in a broken
plate to that ugly frog to gnaw." "Father-in-law! father-in-law! this
won't do for me; I want some roast meat on a tin plate," retorted the
frog. "Give him something on a tin plate then, or else he will cast a
spell on us," said the father. The frog began to eat heartily, and,
having had enough, again commenced to croak: "Father-in-law!
father-in-law! I want something to drink." "Give him some slops in a
broken pot," said the father. "Father-in-law! father-in-law! I won't
have this; I want some wine in a nice tumbler." "Give him some wine
then," angrily called out the father. He guzzled up his wine and began
again: "Father-in-law! Father-in-law! I would like to go to sleep."
"Throw him some rags in a corner," was the reply. "Father-in-law!
father-in-law! I won't have that; I want a silk bed," croaked the frog.
This was also given to him; but no sooner has he gone to bed than again
he began to croak, "Father-in-law! father-in-law! I want a girl,
indeed." "Go, my daughter, and lie by the side of him," said the father
to the eldest. "Father-in-law! father-in law! I don't want that, I want
another." The father sent the second girl, but the frog again croaked:
"Father-in-law! father-in-law! I don't want that, Betsie is the girl I
want." "Go, my Betsie," said the father, quite disheartened, "else this
confounded monster will cast a spell on us." So Betsie went to bed with
the frog, but her father thoughtfully left a lamp burning on the top of
the oven; noticing which, the frog crawled out of bed and blew the lamp
out.
The father lighted it again, but the frog put it out as before, and so
it happened a third time. The father saw that the frog would not yield,
and was therefore obliged to leave his dear little Betsie in the dark by
the side of the ugly frog, and felt great anxiety about her. In the
morning, when the father and the two elder girls got up, they opened
their eyes and mouths wide in astonishment, because the frog had
disappeared, and by the side of Betsie they found a handsome Magyar lad,
with auburn locks, in a beautiful costume, with gold braid and buttons
and gold spurs on his boots. The handsome lad asked for Betsie's hand,
and, having received the father's consent, they hastened to celebrate
the wedding, so that christening might not follow the wedding too soon.
The two elder sisters looked with invidious eyes on Betsie, as they also
were very much smitten with the handsome lad. Betsie was very happy
after, so happy that if anyone doubt it he can satisfy himself with his
own eyes. If she is still alive, let him go and look for her, and try to
find her in this big world.
THE DEVIL AND THE RED CAP.
There was once, I know not where, a soldier who was flogged many times,
and who one night had to stand on sentry. As he paced up and down, a man
with a red cap stopped in front of him and stared hard into his eyes.
The soldier said not a word, but the stranger began: "My dear son, I
know what happens in your heart, you don't like this soldier's life, and
your thoughts are at this very minute wandering to your sweetheart." The
soldier at once concluded that he had to do with the devil, and so made
his acquaintance. "Well, my dear son," said the devil, "undress quickly,
and let's change our clothes; I will stand here on guard for you if you
promise me that in a year hence, on this very day, at this very hour, to
the very minute, you will be back here. In the meantime, go home to your
native place, and don this red cap, as you can freely walk about and no
one will see you as long as you have it on your head." The soldier went
home to his native land, over seven times seven countries, and no one
saw him as he reached his village. He walked into the garden and opened
the door leading into his father's house and stood there listening. His
friends were just then speaking of him. He was delighted to hear it, and
gradually took the red cap from his head and suddenly appeared before
them, who were very pleased to see him back. His sweetheart was also
there; but no one would believe their own eyes, and thought that some
sprite played them a trick. But the soldier explained it all; and, in
order to prove the truth, he disappeared, and the next minute
reappeared. All went well with the poor soldier until the time came when
he had to start back. At the appointed hour and minute he took leave of
his friends and sweetheart amid tears.
He put on his red cap and walked back unseen by any. "Bravo, my son,"
said the devil. "I see now that you are an honest man. A Magyar always
keeps his word. You've returned to the very hour and minute. I've
received a good many floggings, though, during your absence; but don't
be afraid, we shall alter all this. You needn't be particular about your
good conduct; nobody will touch you henceforth, as I've cast a spell
and whenever they flog you the captain will feel the pain." The devil
then changed his uniform, took back the red cap, and disappeared. The
poor soldier--he couldn't help it, as he was tired of soldiering--again
committed something wrong, the punishment for which was one hundred
strokes. All the preparations to carry out the sentence had already been
made, but before he was even touched the captain began to yell as he
felt quite sure that he would suffer under it. Therefore he deemed it
more wise to recommend the dismissal of the useless fellow, instead of
worrying about him. And so it happened, the soldier was dismissed and
arrived home safely: but since this happened even the devil will not
take pity on a poor soldier.
JACK DREADNOUGHT.
A poor widow had a son who was so courageous that not even the devil's
mother would have frightened him, and therefore he was named in his
childhood Jack Dreadnought. His mother was in continual terror lest
something dreadful might happen to her son, as he was so plucky, nay
foolhardy, and determined to use all possible means to teach him to
fear. For this reason she sent him to the clergyman of the village as
"mendicant," and requested the minister to use all his knowledge in
trying to teach her son to fear. The clergyman left nothing untried to
make the boy frightened; he told him all sorts of ghostly and horrible
tales, but these, instead of frightening the lad, made him only more
anxious to make the acquaintance of ghosts similar to those mentioned in
the tales. The clergyman thereupon hit upon the idea of introducing some
sham ghosts in order to break Jack Dreadnought's intrepidity.
He fixed upon the three nights before Christmas; on these nights the lad
had to go to ring the bells at midnight in the tower that stood at the
very end of the village, and the clergyman thought that he could find
some opportunity of frightening Jack. He took an old cassock and stuffed
it with straw and placed it before the tower door with one hand on the
handle. Midnight came and Jack went to ring the bells and discovered the
dummy in the cassock. "Who are you?" he called out, but received no
reply. "Very well," said the boy, "if you won't answer I will tell you
this, that if you don't clear off from that door I'll kick you in the
stomach that you will turn twelve somersaults." As there was no reply,
Jack in his rage took hold of the dummy's collar and threw him on the
ground with such violence that it rolled away three fathoms, and then,
as if nothing had happened, went up into the tower, rang the bells, and
went home. The clergyman, as his first experiment did not succeed, made
two dummies the next day, which were exactly alike; one he placed in the
same position as before at the door of the tower, the other near the
bell ropes.
At midnight Jack again went to ring the bells and, as before, made short
work of the first dummy; as he did not receive any reply he took him by
the collar and threw him on the ground. When he went up into the tower
and saw that the rope was held by another, he thought it was the first
one, and thus addressed him, "Well, my friend, you've come here, have
you? You hadn't enough with the first fall? Answer me or I will dash you
on the ground so that you will not be able to get up again," and as the
dummy did not reply Jack took it by the throat and pitched it from the
window of the tower, and it whizzed through the air. The clergyman had
had two unsuccessful experiments but he had great confidence in the
third. He made three dummies this time, two were placed as before and
the third he stood on the bell so that it might prevent it ringing.
Jack Dreadnought dealt with the two first dummies as on the previous
night, but as he was about to ring, to his astonishment, he discovered
the dummy on the bell; he was not frightened, but when he saw that it
would not come down, after a polite request, took it angrily by one leg
and pitched it through the window like a cat. The clergyman had now come
to the conclusion that he was unable to teach Jack fear, and now
commenced to plan how he might get rid of him. The next morning he
called him, and thus spoke to him: "Jack, you are a fine courageous
fellow; go, take my grey horse, and as much provisions as you think will
last you three days, and go into the world and follow your nose; do not
stop all day, but take up your night quarters wherever darkness finds
you. Do this for three days, and settle down where you spend the third
night, and you will be prosperous."
The clergyman thought that Jack would perish on the way; but we shall
see whether he did. Jack started off the first day, and in the evening
came to a narrow, round timber hut, which was rather high, and he
decided to sleep there. As he found it empty he made a fire in its
centre and commenced to fry some bacon; all of a sudden he felt
something dripping, he looked up and saw something like a human form
dangling in the air. "Well, upon my word," shouted he, "the devil won't
leave me alone even here: get down from there, will you, or do you
expect me to take you down?" No reply came, and Jack, with a clever
jump, caught hold of one of his legs, and brought it down, but the head
was torn off and fell down. Only then he discovered that it was a hanged
man, but he did not think much of it, and stayed there all night. He
travelled the whole of the next day; in the evening he reached an inn
and asked for a room, and received in reply that they had an empty room
on the upper floor, the only one vacant; but that no one could sleep
there, as the place was haunted. "What!" shouted Jack; "Oh! I know those
ghosts; let me have a dish of good food, a mouthful of good wine, and a
burning candle in the upper room, and I will sleep there. I swear by
Beelzebub that the ghosts will come no more!" The innkeeper tried to
dissuade Jack from his foolhardy attempt, but he would not give way.
He was shown into the room; it was a large apartment on the upper floor.
Jack placed the lighted candle in the middle; a dishful of food and a
jug of wine by the side of it; and settled down in a chair, waiting for
the awful ghosts. No sooner had the clock struck midnight than, all of a
sudden, a fearful chorus of animal noises was to be heard, like the
howling of dogs, neighing of horses, bellowing of cattle, roaring of
wild beasts, bleating of sheep and of goats, and also crying, laughing,
and clanking of chains. Jack was quite delighted with the nocturnal
concert; but, all of a sudden a big skull rolled in through the door and
stopped by the side of the dish. Jack stared at it, and, instead of the
skull, he saw an old monk standing before him with long heavy chains.
"Good evening, brother friar!" shouted Jack, "pray have supper with me."
"I'm going from here," said the friar, "and I want you to come too; I
will show you something." "With pleasure," replied Jack, "will you lead
the way, you devil, or you reverend gentleman?" Thereupon Jack followed
the friar with the lighted candle. When they arrived at the stairs the
friar insisted upon his going first, but Jack would not; and the friar
was obliged to lead the way. Next they came to a narrow landing at the
top of the cellar stairs. Here, again, the friar invited him to go
first, but he would not; and so the apparition had to go first. But, as
soon as he went down a few steps, Jack gave the friar such a push with
such dexterity that he went head over heels down the steps and broke his
neck. In the morning the innkeeper had the friar buried. He made Jack a
handsome present, and the latter continued his journey.
Jack Dreadnought rode the whole next day, and in the evening again came
to an inn, where he could not get any room except up stairs, where no
one else would sleep, on account of ghostly visitors. Jack took the room
and was again enjoying his supper in the centre, when the old clock
struck midnight. The same sort of music struck his ear as on the
previous night, and, amid a great crash, a human hand dropped from the
ceiling to near his dish. Jack, in cold blood, took up the hand and
threw it behind the door. Another hand fell and went the same way. Now a
leg came, and this, too, went behind the door. Then came its fellow,
which was soon despatched to the rest. At last a big skull dropped right
into the middle of the dish and broke it. Jack got into a rage, and
threw the skull violently behind the door; and, on looking back, he
found, instead of the limbs, an immense ghost standing behind the door,
whom Jack at once taxed with the damage done to the dish, demanding
payment. The ghost replied, "Very well; I will pay for it, if you come
with me." Jack consented, and they went off together; as before, he
always insisted on the ghost going first. They came to a long winding
staircase, and down into a huge cellar. Jack opened his eyes and mouth
wide when he found in the cellar three vats full of gold, six vats of
silver, and twelve vats of copper coins. Then the ghost said to him,
"There, choose a vat full of coins for your dish, and take it whenever
you like." But Jack, however, did not touch the money, but replied, "Not
I; do you suppose that I will carry that money? Whoever brought it here,
let him take it away." "Well done," replied the ghost; "I see I've found
my man at last. Had you touched the treasure you would have died a
sudden death; but now, since you are such a fine courageous fellow, the
like of whom I have never seen before, settle down in this place and
use the treasure in peace; nobody will ever disturb or haunt you any
more." After these words the ghost disappeared.
Jack became the owner of the immense treasure, and married the
innkeeper's only daughter, who was very pretty, and lives with her to
this day, if he has not died since, enjoying life and spending the money
he found in the vats in the cellar.
THE SECRET-KEEPING LITTLE BOY AND HIS LITTLE SWORD.
There was once, I don't know where, beyond the seas, a little village,
and in the village a widow. The widow had a pretty little son whose
cheeks were as the rose; on the left side of the little boy a scabbard
had grown, and as the boy grew the scabbard grew with him. On the same
day on which the little boy was born the point of a sword appeared in
the soil in their little garden, which kept pace with the growth of the
scabbard on the little boy's side. When the boy was a year old he
discovered the sword in the garden, and every evening at sunset he tried
the sword in the scabbard. One evening after sunset the little boy lay
down and fell fast asleep. Next morning he awaited dawn squatting by the
side of the growing sword, which he passed seven times into the
scabbard. He ran quite delighted to his mother, who got up as the
morning bell began to ring. "Oh, my dear mother, I had such a nice
dream. I wouldn't give my dream for the whole world." "Then what have
you dreamt, my son?" queried the mother. "I wouldn't tell anyone till my
dream has been realised." "Yes, but I want to know it," said his mother
angrily, "and if you won't tell me, I will thrash you."
But the widow threatened her little son in vain; neither kind words nor
threats could induce him to tell his secret. At last she thrashed him,
but with no result; the little fellow went into the garden and knelt
down by the side of his little sword, which had the peculiar feature
that it continually revolved, and cut everyone's hand who touched it
with the exception of that of the little boy. The little sword as soon
as its point felt the touch of the scabbard stopped and slid into the
scabbard, and the little boy for a long time gazed at his weapon and
wept bitterly. As he was thus weeping in his mother's garden, the king
of the country passed outside the fencing; the king heard the sound of
crying and stopped his carriage, and thus spoke to his footman: "My dear
servant, go to see who is crying in that garden, and ask the cause of
it?" The footman obeyed, and on his return gave the following reply to
his royal master: "Your majesty, a child is kneeling among the flowers,
and cries because his mother has cruelly beaten him." "Bring him here,
my dear servant, tell him his king wants him, who has never cried in his
life, and cannot bear to hear anyone else cry." The footman brought the
child back with him, wiped away his tears, and the king asked the dear
little boy whether he would like to go with him as he was willing to
adopt him as his son. "I would like to go, majesty, if my mother would
let me." "Go, my servant, to this little fellow's mother," said the king
to his footman, "and tell her that the king will take her pretty son to
his palace and if he behave well will give him half of his realm, and
also his prettiest daughter."
The widow, who only a moment ago was so angry, commenced to cry for joy,
and placed her son with her own hands into the king's lap, and kissed
the monarch's hand. "Don't be so stubborn when you are at your royal
father's court as you were at your widow-mother's house," she said to
him, and with these words the old woman ran away from her pretty little
son, who again cried bitterly. Then the dear little prince begged leave
to get down from the carriage; he pulled the little sword up out of the
ground, and placed it in the scabbard, where it rattled unceasingly.
They had driven a good distance, and the boy had had his cry, when the
king said, "Why did you cry so bitterly in the little garden, my dear
son?" "Because" replied the little boy "my mother continually scolded
me, and also thrashed me cruelly." "And why did your mother thrash you
cruelly and scold you?" asked the king. "Because I wouldn't tell her my
dream." "And why would you not tell your dream to your poor mother?"
"Because I will not tell it to anyone till it is fulfilled." "And won't
you tell it to me either?" asked the king in astonishment. "No, nobody
shall know it but God, who knows it already." "I'm sure you will tell me
when we get home," said his royal father smiling. After three days'
journey they arrived at the king's town: the queen with her three
daughters were greatly delighted that their royal husband and father had
brought them such a pretty boy. The girls offered all sorts of things to
their pretty brother.
"Don't love him so much," said the wise king, "as he does not deserve
it; he harbours some secret in his heart which he will not tell anyone."
"He will tell me," said the eldest girl, but the little boy shook his
head. "He will tell it me," said the second. "Not I," said the little
boy angrily. "You won't keep it from me," said the youngest coaxingly.
"I will not tell my secret to anyone till it is realised, and I will
punish anyone who dares to inquire," threatened the little boy. The king
in his great sorrow looked at his wife and daughters; he summoned his
servants, handed the little boy to them, and said, "Take away this
stubborn child, take him to your house, he's not fit for a royal
palace." The sword at the little boy's side clanked loudly; the servants
obeyed their royal master's orders, and took the boy to the place where
they lived. The pretty child cried upon being taken away from the
gorgeous palace, and the servants' children consoled him, offered him
fruits and toys, and thus brought back his spirits in a few hours; the
children got used to each other, and the little boy lived with them
until he became seventeen years of age. The elder daughters of the king
married kings of countries beyond the seas, and the youngest one has
also grown old enough to be married. One day she ran from the lofty
palace into the servants' house, where she saw the little boy, who had
grown so handsome that there wasn't a more handsome lad to be seen over
seven times seven countries. The king's daughter was very much struck as
she had never before seen so fine a lad, and thus spoke to him: "If you,
handsome lad, will reveal your secret to me I will become yours, and you
will be mine, and not even the coffin shall separate us." The lad
thrashed the inquisitive princess as he had promised of yore; the pretty
girl wept bitterly and ran to her royal father and complained about the
lad's cruelty. The old king was very angry and uttered an oath, adding,
"If he had a thousand souls he will have to die; his very memory must
die out in my country."
On the same day on which the widow's son had beaten the king's daughter,
lofty gallows were erected on the western side of the royal town, and
the whole population went out to the place where the execution was to
take place. The hangman tied the handsome lad's hands behind his back,
when the sword again clanked at the lad's side. The assembled people,
who a moment ago were so noisy, grew silent, when the king's preacher
read out the sentence. Suddenly a great hubbub arose, and a gorgeous
coach, from which a white flag was waving, was seen driving rapidly up
to the gallows; in the coach sat the King of the Magyars. The coach
stopped underneath the gallows, and the King of the Magyars jumped out
and asked for the handsome lad's reprieve, who was blindfolded. The
angry king informed him that he had great reason to have the scoundrel
hanged, because he thrashed his daughter for no other cause than her
asking him to reveal his secret. The secret was a dream which he could
only tell when it was realised. "My royal colleague, hand the culprit
over to me," said the king of the Magyars, "I'm sure he will tell me his
secret. I have a pretty daughter who is like the Morning Star, and she
will get it out of him." The sword again clanked at the side of the
handsome lad. The king handed the prisoner to the Magyar king, who bade
him sit in his carriage, and asked him his secret. "It is impossible, my
king and master," said the sad lad, "until the dream is fulfilled." "You
will tell my daughter," said the Magyar king smiling. "To none!" said
the lad resolutely, and his sword gave a terrific clank. The king and
the handsome lad arrived at Buda in a few days. The king's daughter was
just promenading in the garden when her father arrived with the handsome
lad. The pretty girl hurried to her father, and as she kissed his hand
she noticed the handsome lad, the like of whom she had never seen
before. "Have you brought him for me?" inquired the love-sick maid,
"from fairy land? No woman has yet carried, has yet borne, such a child
in her arms!"
"My dear daughter, I've brought him not from fairy land, but from the
gallows," replied the king, who was vexed with his daughter for having
so quickly fallen in love with him, although she had never spoken to a
man before. "I don't care, my dear father," said the blushing maid,
"even if you brought him from the gallows, he's mine, and I am his, and
we shall die together." The last words were addressed by the king's
daughter to the handsome lad, who smothered the pretty princess with
kisses. "You will soon be angry with him, my dear daughter," said the
sorrowful king, "if you ask his secret; he's a coarse fellow, he's of no
royal blood, his place is among the servants." "If he killed me, if he
gouged out my eyes, or bit off my nose, I couldn't get angry with him,"
said the princess. "He will tell me his secret, his lodging will be in
the room set apart for my guests, and he will find a place in the middle
of my heart!"
But the king shook his head, and sent the lad down into the
summer-house, where he could amuse himself with reading. No sooner had a
week passed than the girl, who was as pretty as a fairy, put her best
dress on and went to the summer-house to pay a visit to the lad who
lived secluded there, to get his secret out of him. When the young lad
saw the pretty girl and had examined her beautiful dress, the book
dropped from his hand, and he stared but could not utter a single word.
The princess thereupon addressed him in such a beautiful voice as his
ear had never heard before, "Tell me, my handsome lad, why have I come
to see you, if you guess it I will be yours?" "My dove, my angel!" said
the lad with glowing cheeks, "I won't tell you my secret, and if you
wish to get back safely to your royal father's palace you had better not
ask any more questions about the matter." But the girl would not listen
to the lad's warning but pressed for an answer more urgently and
embraced him and kissed him. The lad at last got so angry that he
slapped the princess's face and made her nose bleed. The princess ran
screaming back to the palace, where her father was waiting for her
answer; when the king beheld the blood running down upon the pretty
girl's beautiful dress, he yelled down from the window into the garden,
"I will starve you to death, you son of a dragon!" and began to wash his
daughter's cheek and nose.
The very same day the king summoned all the masons and bricklayers in
the town, and gave them orders to run up in all haste a square building
in which there was to be just room for a stool and a small table, the
table to be so small that only a prayer book could find room on it. In
two hours a small tower was built; the masons had already left off work,
and were going to inform the king that the structure was finished. They
met the king's daughter, who asked one of the masons to stay, the one
who appeared to be the eldest, and asked him whether he could make so
small a hole in the tower that a plate of food and a bottle of wine
could be passed through, and which could not be noticed by any one. "To
be sure," said the grey old mason, "I can and I will make it." The hole
was ready in a quarter of an hour; the king's daughter paid the mason
handsomely and hurried home.
At sunset, among a large crowd of people, the secret-keeping lad was
conducted into the stone structure, and after all his misdeeds had been
once more enumerated he was walled in. But the king's daughter did not
allow him to suffer either hunger or thirst, she visited her sweetheart
three times every day; and brought him books for which he asked. The
king sent every third day his secretary to look after the prisoner and
to see if he were dead, but the scribe found him still alive, and the
king was very much astonished. One day the Turkish Sultan sent a letter
to the Magyar king; the messenger bearing the letter brought with him
also three canes; the Turkish Sultan wrote in the letter, that if the
king could not tell him which of the three canes grew nearest the root,
which in the middle, and which at the top, he would declare war against
him. The king was very much alarmed, and became sad. His daughter
noticed her father's sorrow, and inquired, "Why are you so downcast, my
royal father?" "How can I be otherwise, my dear daughter," said the good
king; "look here, the Turkish Sultan has sent me three canes, and
writes, that if I cannot tell him which is the cane's root-end,
middle-part, and top-end, he will send his army against my country."
"_The God of the Magyar's_ will help you, my dear father," said the
girl; and hurried to the tower, and informed her sweetheart through the
secret hole of the Turkish Sultan's message, and of her father's sorrow.
"Go home, my love, my sweetheart; go to bed and sleep, and when you wake
tell your royal father that you have dreamt that the canes have to be
placed in lukewarm water, and he will then be able to tell on which part
of the plant the canes grew: the one that sinks to the bottom is the one
from nearest the root; the one which does not sink and does not float
on the surface, comes from the middle; and the one that remains on the
surface is from the top." The girl ran home, went to bed and slept, and
told her father her dream, as her sweetheart had instructed her. The
king did as his daughter advised him, and marked the three canes,
namely, with one notch the root-piece, the middle-piece with two
notches, and the top-piece with three, and sent the explanation to the
Sultan; and, actually, the canes had grown as the Magyar king had picked
them out; and the Sultan did not declare war against the Magyar.
After a year the Sultan wrote another letter to the Magyar king and sent
him three foals; in the letter he asked him to guess which of the three
animals was foaled in the morn, which at noon, and which in the evening,
and threatened with war in case a correct guess was not forthcoming. The
king was again sorrowful, and his daughter asked him the reason. "How
should I not be sorrowful, my pretty sweet daughter," said the old king,
"I had another letter from the Sultan, and he sent me three foals, and
if I cannot tell him which was foaled in the morn, noon, and even, he
will declare war against me." "The Lord will again help you, my dear
royal father," said the girl quite joyfully. In half an hour she was
again with her sweetheart, and communicated to him her father's trouble
and sorrow. "Go home, idol of my heart," said the captive lad; "go to
bed and sleep. In your dream scream out, and when your father asks you
what is the matter, tell him that you dreamt that the Sultan had sent
some Turks in order to carry your father off to captivity, as he was not
able to guess when the foals were born; but just as they were pinioning
him, you dreamt that the lad who had slapped your face got out somehow
from his prison, and told you which of the foals was foaled in the
morning, which at noon, and which in the evening." The king's daughter
ran home and did exactly as the immured lad had told her. Next morning
the tower was pulled down and the handsome lad conducted before the
king. "The Lord has preserved you in your long captivity, my son, and I
also feel inclined to grant you pardon. But before doing this you will
have to help me in an important matter. I hand you here the Sultan's
letter, read it; the three foals are in my stables; can you answer his
query?" "I can, my king and master," said the liberated lad, "but I must
ask you some questions. Have you got three exactly similar troughs?"
"No, but I will get some," replied the king. In a quarter of an hour
three troughs of the same size and colour were ready. "Give orders, my
king," said the lad, "to have some oats put into one, some live coals in
the other, and some dry coal in the third: the foal which goes to the
oats was foaled in the morning, the one to the live coals, at noon, and
the one which goes to the dry coals, in the evening." The king did as
the lad advised him. He marked the foals and sent them home. The Sultan
was satisfied and did not send any troops against the Magyar king.
The Sultan had an aunt who was a witch, whom he consulted what to do in
order to get possession of Hungary, and to tell him how he could get to
know who was the man who answered all his questions so cleverly. "Alas!
my dear relative," said the witch, "it isn't the Magyar king who
answered all your queries: he has a lad who is the son of a very poor
woman, but who will become king of Hungary; so long as you do not kill
him you will covet Hungary in vain." Another letter came to the king of
Hungary, in which it was written that if the lad who was kept by the
king, and who was the brat of a poor woman, be not sent to Turkey, war
shall be declared against the king. The king shewed the letter to the
good lad in great sorrow, who, after having read the haughty monarch's
lines, spoke thus: "I'm not afraid of bald-headed dogs, and I will cut
to pieces the whole lot of them." At these words the sword clanked as it
never did before. "I do not want anything save two lads; they must be
both alike, and I will paint a mask resembling their features, and if we
three look alike I'm not afraid of the whole world."
In the royal town were two brothers who were exactly alike, and the
handsome lad painted himself a mask and put it on, and all three went to
Turkey. The witch smelt the strangers' approach from a great distance.
When they arrived in the Sultan's palace they all three saluted him, and
all three bowed simultaneously; they answered the Sultan's questions all
together; they sat down to supper all together; they all conveyed their
food to their mouths at the same time; they all got up at the same time;
after supper they all three bowed, and at the signal from the Sultan all
three went to bed. The Sultan could not see any difference between the
three, but he did not like to kill all three. The witch, however,
recognised the lad, and explained to her nephew his distinguishing
feature, but the Sultan could not understand her explanation. "Well, you
will know to-morrow morning, my Sultan and relative, which is the one
whom we intend to kill," said the witch; "you will know him by his
shirt-collar, which will have a scissors-cut in it; he is the Magyar
king's man." An hour before midnight, at the time the witches are
invisible, and when they are able to pass through the eye of a needle,
the old witch glided through the keyhole into the bedroom where the
youths soundly slept. All three were lying in the same bed, the handsome
lad on the outside. The witch produced a pair of small scissors, and
clipped out a piece of his shirt-collar, and then crept out of the room.
But the handsome lad, when dressing in the morning, noticed in the
looking-glass the damaged shirt-collar and marked his two mates' collars
the same way. The Sultan asked the three lads to breakfast. The old
witch stood in the window, and was very much surprised that the
shirt-collars of all three were marked in the same way. After breakfast,
they bowed and retired, and were allowed to return home. The king's
daughter was very anxious until her sweetheart returned, but when she
saw him one evening in her father's palace in good health and safe she
was greatly delighted, and begged her father's permission to marry him.
The king, however, made no reply, and the girl was very vexed with her
father. One evening when she was again pleading on his behalf she
suddenly fainted away; her eye fell on a letter sent by the Turkish
Sultan asking her Father to send him this strange lad alone, because he
was a dangerous man to Hungary. The old king sent the letter to the lad
by his daughter, which the girl handed to him with tears. "Do not weep,
love of my heart. God is with me, and his power." Thus he consoled her.
"I will start at sunrise to-morrow, and in a year's time we shall be
each other's." The brave hero went alone to the Sultan; he met the old
witch in the courtyard, who whispered to him, "It is the last time you
will come to beautiful Turkey." The sword clanked, and the youth would
not even listen to the old woman's words. When he stepped across the
Sultan's threshold, fifteen armed Turks confronted him: the sword darted
forth from its scabbard, and cut up the Turks into pulp. It did not
touch the Sultan, but went back into its scabbard. At night the old
witch tried to steal the lad's sword, but the sword jumped out and
chopped off the witch's iron nose. Next morning the Sultan arrayed an
enormous army against the lad, but the sword did its work so swiftly
that not a sword, nor an arrow even so much as scratched the lad, and
all the Turks were killed in a heap.
The daughter of the Magyar king was nearly in despair, because her
sweetheart did not return on the appointed day, and she bothered her
father with her requests until he led an army against Turkey. The girl
led the troops herself in military uniform, but the troops had not to
march more than a mile, as the lad was already on his way home with his
little sword. The king's daughter and the army conducted him to the
royal palace, and proclaimed him viceroy. The young hero with a few
thousand soldiers returned to the country where he was born. His mother
was very much frightened when she saw the soldiers approach, as she
thought that they had come to destroy the town; and was still more
frightened when she discovered that, while other courtyards were free
from soldiers, her own was full of them, so full that one could not even
drop a needle among them. She trembled, when a handsome fellow got off
his horse, and approached her, but was very much surprised when the same
handsome fellow took hold of her hand and kissed it, saying: "Well, my
dear mother, I will now tell you what I have dreamt. I dreamt that I
should become king of Hungary, my dream has become true, and I may tell
you now what it was, because it is an accomplished fact, and I am king
of Hungary. I wouldn't tell you in my childhood when you asked me,
because had I told you my dream the Magyar king would have killed me.
And now may the Lord bless you that you did beat me; had you not beaten
me the king would not have taken me; had he not taken me he would not
have sentenced me to the gallows; had the king not sentenced me to the
gallows the other king would not have carried me off.... I am now off to
get married." And so it happened; he went home with his soldiers, and
married the daughter of the Magyar king. He is still alive if he has not
died since!
SHEPHERD PAUL.
There was once, I don't know where, a shepherd, who one day found a
little boy in a meadow; the boy was not more than two days old, and so
the shepherd took him to an old ewe and it nursed the child. The little
boy was suckled by it for seven years, his name was Paul; and he grew so
strong that he was able to uproot good-sized trees. The old shepherd
kept the boy another seven years on the old ewe's milk, and after that
he grew so strong that he could pull up oak-trees like weeds. One day
Paul betook himself into the world in order to see countries, to get to
know something of life, and try his luck. He went on and on, and on the
very first day he met a man who was combing huge trees like one does
flax. "Good day, my relative," said Paul; "upon my word, you are very
strong! my Koma!" "I am Tree-Comber," said the man, "and am very anxious
to wrestle with Shepherd Paul." "I'm the man you name; come along and
let us wrestle," exclaimed Paul. And thereupon he seized Tree-Comber and
threw him to the ground with such force that he sunk into the ground as
far as his knees. But he soon recovered, jumped up, seized Paul, and
threw him to the ground, so that he went in as far as his waist; and
then Paul again caught him, and put him in as far as his neck. "That
will do!" called out Tree-Comber; "I can see that you are a smart
fellow, and should be glad to become your ally." "Well and good," said
Paul, and they continued their journey together.
They went on and soon after found a man who was crushing stones to
powder with his hands, as if they were clods. "Good day," said Paul;
"you must be a strong chap, my Koma." "I am Stone-Crusher, and should
like to wrestle with Shepherd Paul." Thereupon Paul wrestled with him
too, and defeated him the same way as he had done Tree-Comber; and he
too became an ally, and all three continued their journey. After a short
time, they came across a man who was kneading hard iron, as if it were
dough. "Good day," said Paul; "you must have the strength of a devil,
Koma." "I am Iron-Kneader, and should like to fight Shepherd Paul,"
answered this man. Paul wrestled with him and defeated him, and they all
four became allies, and continued their journey. About noon they settled
down in a forest, and Paul thus addressed his mates: "We three are going
to look for some game, and you, Koma Tree-Comber, will stop here in the
meantime and prepare a good supper for us." The three went hunting, and
Tree-Comber in the meantime commenced to boil and roast, until he had
nearly got the meal ready, when a little dwarf with a pointed beard
came to the place, and said, "What are you cooking, countryman? Give me
some of it." "I'll give you some on your back if you like," replied
Tree-Comber. The little dwarf made no reply, but waited till the
sauerkraut was done, and then, suddenly seizing Tree-Comber by the neck
and pulling him on his back, he placed the saucepan on his belly, ate
the sauerkraut, and disappeared. Tree-Comber was rather ashamed of this,
and in order to hide the real facts from his friends, commenced working
afresh; however, the vegetable was not done by the time his mates
returned, but he did not tell them the cause of it.
Next day, Stone-Crusher remained behind, while the others went hunting;
he fared like Tree-Comber with the dwarf with the pointed beard, and the
same thing happened to Iron-Kneader on the third day. Thereupon, Paul
spoke thus: "Well, my Komas, there must be something behind all this, I
think; none of you have been able to do the work while the rest of us
were hunting. I propose that you three go hunting, while I remain and
prepare the food." They went in high glee, chuckling that the little
dwarf would teach Shepherd Paul a lesson also. Paul hurried on with the
cooking, and had nearly finished, when the little fellow with the
pointed beard came and asked for something to eat. "Be off," shouted
Paul, and picked up the saucepan, so that the little fellow could not
get it. The dwarf tried to get hold of his collar, but Paul swiftly
seized him by his beard and tied him to a big tree, so that he could not
move. The three mates returned early from their hunting, but Paul had
the supper ready, and thus spoke to the three astonished men: "You, my
Komas, are a fraud, you weren't able even to outwit that little dwarf
with the pointed beard. Now let us have our supper at once, and then I
will show you what I have done with him." When they finished, Paul took
his mates to the place where he had fastened the dwarf, but he was gone,
and so was the tree, as he had pulled it up by its roots and run away.
The four fellows thereupon decided to give chase to him, and they
followed the track made by the tree, and thus arrived at a deep hole,
and as the track of the tree stopped here they came to the conclusion
that the dwarf must have for a certainty got down into the deep hole.
They held a short consultation and came to the resolution that they
would lower Paul in a basket, and that they would remain above until
Paul should pull the rope, and thus give them a signal to haul him up
with all haste. So they lowered Paul, and deep below in the earth among
beautiful valleys he found a splendid castle, into which he at once
entered. In the castle he found a beautiful girl who at once warned him
to run away as fast as possible if he valued his life, because the
castle belonged to a dragon with six heads, who had kidnapped her from
earth, taken her to this underground place, and made her his wife; but
Paul decided to await the dragon's return, as he was desirous of
liberating the pretty girl. The monster with six heads soon arrived and
angrily gnashed his teeth at the foolhardy Paul, who thus addressed him,
"I am the famous Shepherd Paul, and I've come to fight you." "Well
done," replied the dragon; "so, at least, I shall have something for
supper, but first, let's have something to whet our appetites."
Whereupon he commenced to devour a few hundredweights of huge round
boulders, and, after he had satisfied his hunger, offered Paul one. Paul
took a wooden knife and cut in two the stone offered to him, which
weighed one hundredweight, and took up both halves and launched them
with such power at the dragon that two of his heads were smashed to
pulp. The dragon thereupon got into an awful rage, and made a furious
onslaught on Paul, but he with a clever sword-cut slashed off two more
of the monster's heads, and took him round the waist, and dashed him
against the rock with such force, that the brains splashed out of the
remaining two heads. The pretty girl thereupon with tears in her eyes
thanked Paul for his services, for having liberated her from her ugly
tormentor, but at the same time informed him, that two younger sisters
of hers were languishing in the possession of two more powerful
dragons.
Paul thereupon at once made up his mind to liberate the other two, and
to take the girl with him. The girl handed him a golden rod, with which
he struck the castle; and it became a golden apple, which he put in his
pocket and went on. Not far off in a gorgeous castle he found the second
girl, whose husband and tormentor was a dragon with twelve heads. This
girl gave Paul a silk shirt in order to make him more fit for the
struggle with her husband. The shirt made Paul twice as strong. He had
dinner with the twelve-headed dragon, and after a long struggle
succeeded in defeating him, and took away all his twelve heads; he then
transformed the castle with a golden rod into a golden apple, and
continued his way with the two girls. Not far off in a castle they found
the third girl, who was the youngest and the prettiest, and whose
husband was a dragon with eighteen heads, who, however, assumed the
shape of a little dwarf with a pointed beard whenever he went on his
expeditions on the surface of the earth.
Paul longed more than ever to be at him, and in order the better to
fortify him for the struggle with the awful monster, the pretty girl
dressed him in a silk shirt which made him ten times stronger, and she
also gave him some wine which doubled his power again. When the huge
dragon with the eighteen heads arrived, Paul at once accosted him,
saying, "Well, my Koma, I'm Shepherd Paul, and I've come to wrestle with
you, and to liberate that pretty girl from your claws." "I'm glad I've
met you," replied the dragon, "it's you who killed my two brothers, and
you'll have to pay for that with your life, for it is only your blood
that can repay me for the loss." Thereupon the monster went into the
next room, to put on the fortifying shirt, and to drink the
strengthening wine; but there was no shirt, and no wine in the cask,
because the pretty girl had allowed what Paul could not drink to run
out. The dragon became very angry and began to pace up and down, being
rather nervous as to the issue. But Paul was not long before he set at
him, and with one stroke slashed off six of his heads, and, after a
short struggle, either broke or cut off the rest; and having thus
liberated the third girl, he transformed the castle, like the previous
two, into a golden apple, hid it in his pocket, and started with the
three girls towards the opening at the top of which his mates awaited
him.
Having got there, as there was no room for all four in the basket, Paul
bade the three girls to get in, and pulled the rope, whereupon his three
mates hastily drew up the basket. Seeing the three pretty girls, they
forgot all about hauling up Paul; each chose a girl and hastily left the
forest, and settled down with them beyond the seventh country. Paul
seeing that he was deceived by his faithless friends, began to swear in
his rage, and vowed by heaven and earth that so soon as he should get
out he would take bloody revenge on his deceitful mates, even if they
had hidden themselves at the end of the world. Thereupon, he walked
about aimlessly underground, and cogitated how to get out. After long
wanderings he came to the nest of the huge griffin, in which he found
several small griffins, and as the old bird was away, and it was hailing
fire, he covered the nest with his cloak, and thus saved the little
griffins. The old bird, in order to reward him, took him upon its back
to carry him up to the surface. It took with it some provisions for the
way, which consisted of a roast bullock hanging on one side, and a cask
of wine on the other, and gave Paul directions that whenever it turned
its head to the bullock he was to cut off a piece, and put it in its
mouth, and whenever it turned its head to the cask, to pour a pint of
wine down its throat. The griffin started off with Paul on its back, and
flew three days and three nights, and on the morning of the fourth day
it alighted with Paul outside the very town where his three faithless
mates lived, put him down, and returned to its nest. Paul, as soon as he
had rested from his fatigues, started off in search of his three mates,
who were dreadfully frightened when they saw Shepherd Paul appear, who
they thought was dead long ago. Paul gave them a severe scolding for
their faithlessness, and then quietly killed all three. He placed the
three apples in the prettiest part of the town, side by side, tapped
them with the golden rod, and they became three splendid castles. He
placed the three girls in them, married the youngest, and lives with her
still in the middle castle, if he hasn't died since!
THE PELICAN.
There was once, I don't know where, there was in the world an old king;
one of whose eyes always wept, and the other always smiled. He had three
sons. The youngest was twelve, the eldest twenty, and the middle one
sixteen. These three sons got talking together one spring morning about
different things: the eldest of his sweetheart, the middle one of his
saddle-horse, and the youngest one of his birds. Their conversation at
last turned upon more serious matters, and they wished to know why their
father's one eye always wept and why the other always smiled; so they
decided to go and ask him the reason at once. The father was at
luncheon. The eldest son knocked; and, after greeting his father, kissed
his hand, and asked him why the one eye always wept and the other always
smiled? The father looked very angrily at his son, and beckoned him to
go. The boy became very frightened at seeing his father grow angry so
suddenly, and ran away. Just as he ran through the door he heard a noise
at his heels, and found that his father had thrown his knife and fork
after him. The terrified lad brought the disappointing news to his
brothers. "Then I'll ask him, if no one else will," said the middle son,
who, for his chivalrous deeds, was his father's favourite. The king
still sat at lunch, and the second son, like his elder brother, also
asked his father why one eye always wept, whilst the other always
smiled. The father then threw knife and fork after him, and the fork
stuck fast in the heel of the lad's shoe. The lad was very frightened,
and told his brothers what had happened, at which they were much
disappointed, as they had every confidence in him. "It is of no use your
going," said the second eldest to the youngest, "because our royal
father dislikes you on account of your bird-catching habits."
But still the little boy went in, and in a trembling but confident voice
asked his father why one eye always wept, whilst the other always
smiled. The king, who had just finished his lunch, no sooner heard the
boy's question than he threw his knives and forks at him, and the blade
of one knife lodged in the boy's thigh, so that the blood spurted out;
but the little boy was not frightened, and, amid his tears, drew the
knife out from his thigh, and having wiped it, took it back to his
father, and repeated his question. The father lovingly stroked the
little fellow's hair and bade him sit on a low chair, and told him the
secret, saying: "One eye always laughs because you three boys are very
handsome children; and when I die you will make three brave kings for
any three countries. My other eye always weeps because once upon a time
I had a beautiful pelican, whose song was so charming, that whosoever
heard it was at once transformed into a youth seventeen years of age.
That bird was stolen from me by two men dressed in black. That is the
reason why one eye always weeps, and why my soul is vexed within me."
The little fellow kissed his father's hand and hurried off to his
brothers, who received him with a mocking smile, but soon felt ashamed
of themselves, when the child, with his wounded thigh, brought the reply
to their question. "We will try to console our father, and make him
young again," said the three brothers all together; "We will endeavour
to find that pelican, if it be yet alive, whether it be on land or sea."
Having thus spoken, they at once got ready for the journey.
The eldest and the middle sons went to their father's stables, saddled
the finest horses, and put a great deal of treasure in their
sabretaches, and set forth: so that the youngest son was left without a
horse, as his elder brothers had taken away the horses that would have
suited him.
When they came to the end of the village, an old beggar met them, and
asked them for a coin or a bit of bread: the two elder lads took no
notice of him, but galloped on, the beggar shouting mocking words after
them. The youngest lad arrived half an hour later, and shared half his
cake with the beggar. "As you have helped me, prince," said the beggar,
"I will help you. I know where you are going, and what you are seeking.
You would need the lives of three men if you went on foot, or on the
back of an ordinary horse, for the church in which your pelican sings
now is beyond the Operencian Sea. The saddle-horse which can go there
must have been brought up on dragon's milk, to prevent its hoofs being
worn away on the long journey; but for a good deed you may expect a good
one in return. You have helped me, and I will help you, with my advice
at least, and that is all a poor beggar can offer. Five miles from this
bridge where we stand lives an old witch who has two horses. If you
serve her for a year (her year has three days) she will give you as much
money as you ask for; but if you do not serve your whole year she will
chop off your head. The man has not yet been found who can serve her a
whole year, for her horses are her two daughters, and so soon as the
groom falls asleep, they either disappear into the clouds or the sea; or
slip under ground, and do not reappear until the groom's head is
impaled. But I trust that you will be able to take care of them. Take
this whistle; it has three holes. If you open the first hole the King of
the Gnats will appear at your command; if the second, the King of the
Fishes; if the third, the King of the Mice. Take great care of this
whistle, and when you have done your year, don't ask for money, cattle,
clothes, lands, or suchlike things (the old witch will offer you all
these), but ask for the half-rotten foal which lies buried seven fathoms
deep in the dung-heap. There is a hen-coop, and on the top of it a
saddle and a bridle; put these on the foal just after you have dug it
out. It will be too weak to walk, therefore you must take it on your
back, and carry it to the end of the village. There you will find a
bridge. Place it under the bridge, in the water, for one hour, and then
wash it. I won't tell you any more."
The same evening, just after the cows had been driven home, the lad was
to be seen sitting on the threshold of the witch's door. The old witch
was at the same hour driving her horses home from the field. Sometimes
they jumped about on the ground; sometimes they flew in the air; but the
old witch was after them everywhere, riding a-straddle on a saddled
mopstick. "Good evening, my dear old mother," said the lad, in a
confidential voice. "Good fortune has brought you, my dear son,"
commenced the witch, "it's lucky that you called me your mother, for
see! there are ninety-nine human heads impaled, and yours would have
been the hundredth. What's your errand, my dear son?" "I'm looking for a
situation, my dear old mother!" "Good fortune has brought you, my dear
son; the year lasts three days with me, and during that time you will
have to take care of my two horses. Your wages will be whatever you ask,
and as much as you desire. But if you don't take care of those two
horses, you must die!" "The Lord will help me." "Come in to supper, for
you will have to take the horses out into the Silken Meadow for the
night." The prince went in, and after supper the witch poured a sleeping
draught into the new groom's drinking-cup. Supper over the prince went
into the stables and stroked the horses. He then prepared two halters
from a piece of rope that the beggar had given him, threw them over
their heads, and jumped on the back of the finer horse. The horse, which
had become quite tame with the unusual halter, walked along peaceably
with the prince on its back, to the great surprise of the witch. "Well,
that fellow must know a thing or two!" sighed the old witch as she
looked after him, and slammed the door behind her. As soon as the prince
arrived in the Silken Meadow with the horses a heavy sleep seized him,
and he slept soundly all night. The sun was high in the heavens when he
woke, rubbing his sleepy eyes, and began to call for his horses, which
would not come. He was in great despair until, fumbling in his pockets,
he found the little whistle, which he immediately blew, leaving the
first hole open. The King of the Gnats appeared! "We wait your orders,"
said a huge gnat: "speak and tell us what you require. If it be anything
in the air we will find it for you." "I had to take care of two horses,
and I cannot find them. If I do not take them home, death will be my
doom." Gnats went flying forth in all directions at their king's
singing, and in less than half an hour two griffins alighted in front of
the lad. He struck them on the heads with a halter, and they became
horses, and the little groom went home in great joy. "So you have
brought them home safely, my son; your breakfast is ready; eat it and
then go to sleep. By-and-by your dinner will be ready. You have nothing
else to do to-day." So saying, the old witch gave her horses a sound
thrashing with a peel, and then, giving them some burning cinders to
eat, went back to the house, and, sitting in a corner, threaded beads
until noon.
In the evening the old woman again mixed some sleeping draught into the
little groom's drink, making it stronger than before. He took out his
horses, and when he had gone a little way on the road he fell off the
saddle, and slept till noon the next day. When he awoke his horses were
gone, and so he blew his whistle, leaving the second hole open, and the
King of the Fishes appeared. "We wait your orders," said a mighty whale;
"speak and tell us. If it is to be found in or above the ocean we will
find it." "I had to guard two horses, and I can't find them anywhere,
and if I don't take them back I must die." Fishes swam forth in every
river and sea at the command of their king, and in an hour they drove a
big pike to shore, which had two little gold fish in its inside. The
whale ordered a sword-fish to rip open the pike's belly. The little lad
struck the gold fishes on the head with his halter, and they became
horses once more. Late in the afternoon the little groom arrived in the
courtyard with the horses. "Go inside, my son, and have something to
eat, you have nothing more to do until the evening," said the witch, who
then thrashed her horses with a huge poker, and, having given them some
burning cinders to eat, hobbled back into the house and began to count
her gold coins. The prince had to spend another night with the horses;
and in the evening the old witch went to the horses, and, having scolded
them well, declared that if they would not hide themselves properly this
time she would punish them horribly. She gave her little groom drink
until he was half drunk, and also three pillows which were stuffed with
owl's feathers, which would make him sleep sounder. And he did go to
sleep until the midday sun awoke him next day in the Silken Meadow. But
the little whistle again came to his aid; he opened the lowest hole and
blew the whistle, and the King of all the Mice appeared. "We wait your
orders," said a rat with a big moustache. "Whatever is to be found on
earth or under its crust we will bring to you, if you order us to do
so." "I had to guard two horses and can't find any trace of them; if I
don't take them home I must die." The mice came forth from every wall
and every hole in the ground at the squeak of their king. After an hour
and a half they drove two rats from a granary to the lad, who struck
them on the head with his halter, and changed them back into his horses.
On his arrival at home the witch said to the prince, "So you have
guarded them well, my dear son. Your year of service is over. Ask what
you like. Here are three keys, one of which opens a cellar where there
are vats full of gold and silver, take as much as you like. The second
key opens a wardrobe, from which you may choose either royal dresses, or
if you like magic garments, which will change into anything you like.
The third key opens the stables, where you will find horses with golden
or silver hair; take which you like best, and as many as you like, it is
all the same to me." The prince looked at the treasures, clothes, and
horses, but chose none of them, and returned the keys, looking very
downcast.
"My father the king has horses, costly garments, and gold; I have no
need for any of these things."
"Ask, then, whatever you like; ask my life, because whosoever has served
a year with me well deserves his wages."
"I don't want your life or your death, my dear old mother; but under
your dung-heap there lies buried seven fathoms deep a wretched foal, and
on the top of your hen-coop there's a worn-out old saddle very much
soiled. These are the things I want; give them to me."
"You're in league with the devil, my dear son, take care that you don't
get into hell."
The witch tried to put him off, and made all manner of excuses, but at
last she brought a golden spade and traced a triangle on the dung-heap
which pointed to where, without fail, the wretched foal was to be found.
The prince dug without ceasing for seven days and seven nights, and on
the dawn which followed the eighth night the ground began to move under
his spade and the Tátos foal showed its hoofs. The prince dug it out,
scraped the dirt from it, and, having fetched the saddle from the
hen-coop, put it on the foal; and having taken leave of his witch
mistress he took the foal on his back and carried it as far as the
bridge. While the foal was soaking in the water the old beggar appeared
on the bridge and received a piece of bread from the prince.
"Prince, when you sit on your horse's back," said the beggar, "take care
of yourself. It will carry you through clouds and over waters; it knows
well the way to the country where the pelican lives, so let it go
wherever it pleases. When you arrive at the shore of the Operencian Sea
leave your horse there, for you will have to walk three hundred miles
further. On your way go into every house and make inquiries. A man who
knows how to use his tongue can get far, and one question is worth more
than a hundred bad guesses. On the shore of the Operencian Sea there are
two trees, one on this side and one on the opposite shore; you cannot
get over the sea unless you climb the trees when they kiss each other,
and this only happens twice a year, at the end of the summer and at the
beginning of spring. More I will not tell you. Good-bye."
Their conversation had lasted a whole hour, and behold! the wretched
foal had become such a beautiful horse with golden hair and three legs,
that one could not find another to match it.
The little prince got into the saddle, which had also become gold, and
rode leisurely over the bridge. At the other end his steed spoke thus:
"I shall now be able to see, my little master, whether we can start at
once;" and thereupon darted into the clouds; from thence to the moon;
from thence to the sun; and from the sun to the "hen and chickens" (the
Pleiades); and from thence back to the bridge.
"I have lived for many a thousand years, but such a rider as you has not
sat on my back before." And again it darted off over seven times seven
countries, and in half an hour the prince reached his brothers, who had
been galloping for the last three days and three nights. They rode
together for a little while when the eldest thus spoke: "My younger
brothers, if we all three keep together we shall never be able to find
the pelican. The road divides into three branches here. Let each of us
go into a different country, and let us mark this finger-post, and in
one year's time meet here again. Should blood ooze out of the post it
will be a sign that the brother who is absent is in misery or captivity;
but if milk flow out of it, then he is well." This proposal was
accepted. The two eldest took the roads on the right and the youngest
the one on the left. But the two eldest were wicked. They did not look
for the pelican but got into bad habits and spent their time in making
love to young ladies. They did not trouble themselves very much about
their father's rejuvenescence. The youngest prince went on steadily and
covered a thousand miles a day; till at last he reached the Operencian
Sea. The two trees which stood on its shores were just then kissing each
other. The prince slackened the girth of his horse, jumped on the tree,
ran along its upper branches, which touched the tree on the other side
of the sea, and in an hour gained the opposite shore. He had left his
horse in a silken meadow, the grass standing as high as the horse's
knees. His horse neighed after him and urged him to make haste.
On the opposite shore of the sea there was a golden forest. He had a
small hand-adze with him and with it he notched the stems of the trees
so that he might not miss his road upon his return. Beyond the golden
forest there stood a small cottage where an aged woman a hundred years
old lived.
"Good day, my dear old mother."
"Good fortune has brought you, my dear son. What are you doing here,
whither not even a bird ever comes? What do you want here, my dear son?"
"I am trying to find the pelican, my dear old mother."
"Well, my son, I do not know where it is, but I have heard of it. Go a
hundred miles beyond yonder silver forest, and ask my grandmother. If
she does not know anything about it, nobody does. On your way back with
your bird come and see me, my dear son, and I will give you a present.
Life is worth living."
The old woman sent her cat with the prince, which accompanied him as far
as the right road, mewed once, and turned back. The wandering prince,
after a journey which lasted for weeks, got through the silver forest
and found a cottage where the old woman lived, who was so much bent from
age that her nose touched the ground.
"Good evening, my grandmother."
"Good fortune has brought you, my dear son. What are you doing here,
whither not even a bird ever comes? What do you want, my dear son?"
"I seek the pelican, my dear mother, whose song makes old people young
again. The Jesuits have stolen it from my father."
"Well, my son, I know nothing of it. But fifty miles beyond yonder
copper-forest lives my mother, and if she knows nothing about your bird,
then nobody does. On your way back with the bird call upon me, my dear
son, and I will give you a good present for your trouble. Life is still
very pleasant, even to me."
The prince again continued his journey in company with a red cock, which
took him as far as the right road. There it crowed once, and flew back.
After a journey of days and weeks the prince discovered on the borders
of the copper-forest a little cottage, in which the old woman sat, whose
eyelids were quite covered with moss. "Good day, my dear old mother!"
"Good fortune has brought you, my dear son. What do you want?"
"I am looking for the pelican." "You are on the right spot, my dear son.
Though I have never seen it; because when it was brought hither I could
use my legs no longer. Step across the threshold, and within a gun-shot
you will see an old tumble-down church; the pelican is kept in there.
By the side of the church there is a beautiful mansion, in it live the
two old Jesuits who brought the bird from some foreign land; but the
bird will not sing to them. Go and tell them that you think you will be
able to make the bird sing, as perhaps it will sing to you as you come
from a foreign land."
The prince, however, didn't dare to go to see the friars, but waited for
the evening or the morning bell to be rung, and then stole into the
church. He had to wait for seven days, and still he did not succeed in
hearing the pelican sing, as on each occasion a deep sleep overcame
him. The two friars had become youths of seventeen years of age during
the last two days.
No one knew why the bird did sing on the third day. On this day, the
prince, as soon as he had stepped into the church, made his nose bleed,
and this kept him awake, and he heard the bird's song, and saw the
friars caper round the cage and throw sugar into it. The prince hid
himself under a chair, and when every one had retired to rest after
evening prayers he let the bird out of its cage, hid it under his cloak,
and went back to the first old woman and made her young again. The old
woman jumped with delight, and gave him as much gold and silver as he
liked. In a few weeks he got back to the other old women who lived in
the gold and silver forests, and they regaled him in a royal manner.
When he reached the sea-shore the two trees were kissing again, so he
ran across them with the bird and appeared by the side of his horse,
which had eaten so much of the fine grass that it had become so fat that
the girth had quite cut into its belly. He made the horse young too, and
sat on its back, and in a short time returned to the post where he had
left his brothers. Lo! blood was flowing on that side on which his
brothers had gone. His sensitive heart was quite overcome with sorrow,
because his brothers were either in danger or misery. So he went on the
same road on which the poor fellows had departed. He had not gone more
than a couple of miles before he came to an inn. Adjoining the inn was a
garden, where his two brothers were working in irons, because they had
squandered their all, including their horses, and had got into debt for
drink. After scolding the innkeeper the little prince bought his
brothers off and repurchased their horses.
They then started home all together, and he related all his adventures,
and how he had got possession of the favorite pelican. At last they came
to the outskirts of a forest about three miles from home, and at this
place the two elder brothers attacked him from behind, cut off his hands
and feet, took his little bird from him, and hurried home in order to
lengthen their father's life by means of the song of the dear bird that
had been brought back from so far off. The poor little prince began to
cry bitterly with pain and fear. His cries were heard by a swine-herd
who was tending his herd in the same forest in which the wicked brothers
had maimed the little prince.
The swine-herd picked up the poor boy without hands and feet and carried
him to his hut. "He will do to take care of the hut," said the
swine-herd, "poor wretch!" In the evening, the little crippled boy
related all about his brothers' cruelty, and the poor swine-herd's heart
was filled with pity for the boy's misfortune. Next morning just as he
was going to look after his hogs the little prince called him back with
fearful screams, and to his surprise he saw something that looked like a
human skull wriggle out of the ground. He quickly knocked off the top of
the skull with his hatchet, and the remainder slipped back into the
ground. From the part cut off, blood flowed on to the ground. Somehow or
other his maimed finger came in contact with the mud formed out of the
blood and the dust and to his astonishment it was healed. Great was the
simple swine-herd's joy! He rubbed the boy's stumps with the mud, and
lo! his hands and feet grew again!
As soon as the news had spread in the royal town that the pelican had
come back all the old men gathered together and many brought presents to
the princes, and took out their horses and dragged their carriage along
the streets. At ten o'clock the next morning the church was crowded, and
the pelican was reinstalled in its old place. The organ began to play
but the bird would not sing. The king had it proclaimed through the
length and breadth of his kingdom that any one who could make the
pelican sing should have half his realm. The swine-herd heard the news
and told it to his helpmate. "Take me, my brother, under your cloak,"
said the little prince, "as I do not wish my brothers to see me, lest
they kill me. Let us then go into the town, and, as you are very old, I
will induce the pelican to sing and make you young." So they set off
together and the swine-herd sent word into the crowded meeting that he
had confidence in the Lord, and thought he would be able to make the
bird sing. The people crowded round the swine-herd, who had a handsome,
well-built boy hidden under his cloak. They conducted him into the
church, where he at once took off his great cloak, and no sooner did the
pelican see its liberator than it at once began to sing most
beautifully, and all the old men who were there assembled in great
numbers became seventeen years old. The king recognised his son and made
him tell all about his journey. When he came to the incident of the
savage attack by his brothers the people began to hiss and groan, and
resolved to draw and quarter the two villains, to tie them to horses'
tails, drag them over the town, and hang them on the four corners of the
fortress. The resolution was at once carried into effect. In vain did
the kind-hearted lad beg for their lives. They had to die. The old king
gave half of the realm to the young prince. The swine-herd was dressed
up in velvet and purple, and they all are alive to this day, if they
have not died since.
THE GIRL WITH THE GOLDEN HAIR.
There was once, I do not know where, in the world an old man who had
twelve sons; the eldest of whom served the king for twenty-four years.
One day the old man took it into his head that all his sons should get
married, and they all were willing to comply with their father's wish,
with the exception of the eldest son, who could not on any account be
coaxed into matrimony. However the old man would not give in, and said,
"Do you hear me, my son? the eldest of you must marry at the same time
as the youngest; I want you all to get married at the same time."
So the old man had a pair of boots made for himself with iron soles and
went in search of wives for his twelve sons. He wandered hither and
thither over several countries until the iron soles of his boots were
worn into holes; at last, however, he found at a house twelve girls,
who, he thought, would do.
The eleven younger lads made great preparations and went to the fair to
buy themselves saddle-horses; but the eldest, who was serving the king,
did not concern himself about anything, and turned out the king's horses
to grass as usual. Among the animals there was a mare with a foal, and
Jack--this was the name of the eldest lad--always bestowed the greatest
care upon the mare. One day, as the whole stud were grazing in the
fields, the mare neighed and said to the lad, "I say, Jack, I hear that
you are thinking of getting married; your eleven brothers have already
gone to the fair to purchase riding-horses for the wedding; they are
buying the finest animals they can get; but don't you go and purchase
anything: there is a foal of mine that was foaled last year, go and beg
the king to let you have it, you will have no cause to repent your
choice. The king will try to palm off some other animal on you, but
don't you take it. Choose the foal as I tell you."
So it happened Jack went up stairs and saw the king and spoke to him
thus: "Most gracious Majesty! I have now served you for twenty-four
years and should like to leave this place, because my eleven brothers
are already on their way to get themselves wives; the tips of my
moustache too reach already to my ears, the days fly fast, and it is
high time for me to find a wife too; I should be much obliged if you
would pay me my wages." "You are perfectly right, my dear son, Jack,"
replied the king, "it is high time that you too get married; and, as you
have so faithfully served me, I will give orders for your wedding to be
celebrated with the greatest pomp. Let me know your wishes! would you
like to have so much silver as you can carry, or would you prefer as
much gold?" "Most gracious Majesty, I have only one desire, and that is
to be allowed to take with me from your stud a certain foal that belongs
to a certain mare that is with foal again this year." "Surely you don't
want to make an exhibition of yourself on that wretched creature?" "Aye,
but I do, your Majesty, and I do not want anything else."
Our Jack was still fast asleep when his eleven brothers set out on the
finest horses to fetch their girls. Jack did not get up till noon, at
which hour the king ordered out a coach and six, together with a couple
of outriders, and thus addressed the lad: "Well, Jack, my boy, I have no
objection, you can take your foal, but don't reproach me hereafter."
Jack thereupon had plenty to eat and drink, and even took out a
bucketful of wine to his foal and made it drink the whole. He then took
his goods and chattels and sat in the coach, but the king would not
allow the foal to run along with the coach, and said: "Not that way, if
I know it; put the ugly creature up on the box! I should feel ashamed if
anybody saw the ugly brute running alongside my coach." So the foal was
tied up to the box, and they set off till they reached the outskirts of
the town. By this time the foal, which was in a most uncomfortable
position, presented a most pitiful sight; for by rubbing against the box
the whole of one of its sides had become raw. So they stopped, and it
was taken down and placed on the ground. Jack got out, and, the coach
having set out for home, he sat on the foal's back, his feet touching
the ground. The foal gazed round to see whether anybody was looking on,
and, not seeing a soul, it flew up high into the air and thus addressed
the lad: "Well, my dear master, at what speed shall we proceed? Shall we
go like the hurricane or like a flash of thought?" "As quick as you can,
my dear horse," was his reply.
They flew along for a while, when the foal again spoke, asking: "Is your
hat tied on, my dear master?"
"Yes, it is, my dear horse."
Again they flew along, and again the little foal said: "Well, my dear
master, your hat that you have bought for your wedding is gone. You have
lost it. We have left it some seven miles behind, but we will go back to
fetch it; nobody has as yet picked it up." So they returned and picked
up the hat, and the little foal again flew high up into the air. After
proceeding for three hours they reached the inn where his brothers had
decided to take up their night's lodgings. The other lads had started at
dawn, he not till noon, after his midday meal, and still he left them
behind. Having got within a short distance of the inn, the foal alighted
on the ground with Jack, and addressed him in these words: "Well, my
dear master, get off here and turn me out on to that heap of rubbish and
weeds yonder, then walk into the inn and have plenty to eat and drink;
your eleven younger brothers will also arrive here shortly." So Jack
entered the inn, ordered a bottle of wine, made a hearty meal, and
enjoyed himself heartily. He took out a bucketful of wine to his foal
and gave it to drink; time passed on ... when, at last his brothers
arrived. They were still at some distance when the youngest caught sight
of the foal, and exclaimed: "Oh, look at that miserable screw! Surely it
is our eldest brother's steed." "So it is! So it is!" exclaimed all the
others, but at the same time they all stared at each other, and could
not explain how it came to pass that, although they had started much
earlier than their brother, they had been outdistanced by him,
notwithstanding the fact that his animal could not be compared with
their own horses. The brothers put their steeds into the stables and
placed plenty of hay and corn before them, then they walked into the
tap-room and found Jack already enjoying himself.
"So you have got here, brother," they remarked. "As you behold,
youngsters, though I had not left home when the clock struck twelve."
"Certainly it is a mystery how you have got here on that thorough-bred
of yours, a wolf could swallow the creature at a bite."
They sat down and ate and drank; so soon as it became dark, the lads
went out to look after the horses.
"Well then, where will you put your horse over night?" they inquired of
the eldest.
"I will put it into the same stables with yours."
"You don't mean that, it will barely reach to the bellies of our horses,
the stables are too big for that steed of yours."
But Jack took his foal into the stables and threw his cloak over its
back. In the meantime his brothers had returned to the tap-room and were
holding council as to what was to be done with their eldest brother.
"What shall we do with him? what indeed? what can we do under the
circumstances but kill him? It will never do to take him with us to the
girls, they will laugh at us and drive us off in disgrace."
At this the foal began to speak, and said: "I say, dear master, tie me
near the wall, your brothers will come to kill you, but don't do
anything in the matter, leave it to me; join them, eat and drink, and
then come back and lie down at my feet, I will do the rest."
Jack did as he was told; upon leaving the tap-room he returned to the
stables and lay down at the feet of his foal, and as the wine had made
him a bit drowsy he soon fell asleep. Ere long his brothers arrived with
their hatchet-sticks which they had purchased for the wedding.
"Gee-up, you jackass," they shouted, and all eleven were about to attack
the poor little foal, when it kicked out with such force that it sent
the youngest flying against the wall.
"Get up, dear master, they have come." Jack thereupon woke, and his
little foal asked him, "What shall I do with them?"
"Oh! knock them all against the wall."
The foal did as it was told, and the lads dropped about like
crab-apples. It collected them all into a heap, when Jack, seeing their
condition, became frightened, so he hurriedly picked up a bucket, ran to
the well, fetched some water and poured it over the eleven. They
managed, with some difficulty, to get on to their feet and then showered
reproaches upon him, complaining bitterly about his unbrotherly conduct
in ordering his foal to handle them so roughly as it had done.
The eleven then left the inn without a moment's delay, and toiled along
the whole night and the next day, until at last, on the following
evening, they reached the home of the twelve girls. But to get in was
not such an easy task, for the place was fenced round with strong iron
rails, the gate was also very strong and made of iron, and the latch was
so heavy that it took more than six powerful men to lift it. The eleven
brothers made their horses prance about and bade them to kick against
the latch, but all their manoeuvres were of no avail--they could not
move the latch.
But what has become of Jack? where did he tarry? His foal knew only too
well where the girls could be found, and how they could be got at; so he
did not budge from the inn until late in the afternoon, and spent his
time eating and drinking. His brothers were still busily engaged with
the latch, hammering at it and kicking, when at last, just when the
people were lighting the candles at dusk, the brothers discovered Jack
approaching high up in the air on his foal. As soon as he reached the
gate he wheeled round, the foal gave a tremendous kick at the latch,
whereupon the gate, and with it a portion of the railing, heeled over
into the dust. The landlady, a diabolical old witch, then came running
to the gate with a lamp in her hand, and said: "I knew Jack that you
had arrived, and I have come and opened the gate." This statement was of
course not true.
The lads entered the house, where they found the twelve girls all
standing in a row. With regard to the age of the maidens they
corresponded to those of the lads; and when it came to choice, the
eldest lad fell in love with the eldest girl, the youngest lad with the
youngest maid, and so on, every lad with the girl of his own age. They
sat down to supper, each girl by the side of her beau; they ate and
drank, enjoyed themselves, and the kissing had no end. At last they
exchanged handkerchiefs. As it was getting late, and the young folks
became sleepy, they all retired to rest. Beds were prepared for all
twenty-four in a huge room; on one side stood the beds for the girls, on
the other those for the lads. Just then the mischievous old witch, who
was the girls' mother, walked out of the house, and muttered to herself:
"Now I have got you all in my net, you wretched crew, we shall see which
of you will leave this place alive!"
It so happened that Jack went out to look after his foal; he took a
bucketful of wine with him and gave his animal a drink, whereupon the
foal spoke to him thus:
"I say, dear master! we have come to an awful place; that old witch
intends to kill you all. At the same time don't be frightened, but do
what I am about to tell you. After everybody has gone to bed, come out
again and lead us horses out from these stables, and tie twelve horses
belonging to the old witch in our places. With regard to yourselves,
place your hats on to the girls' heads, and the old witch will mistake
the maids, and slay them in your stead. I will send such a deep slumber
over them that even a noise seven times as loud as you will make cannot
wake them."
In conformity with the advice thus received, Jack re-entered the
bedchamber, placed the twelve men's hats on to the heads of the girls;
he then exchanged the horses, and went back to bed. Soon after the old
witch commenced to whet a huge knife, which sent forth a shower of vivid
sparks: she then approached the beds, groped about, and as soon as she
discovered a hat, snap! off went a head, and so she went on until she
had cut off all the girls' heads. Then she left the house, fetched a
broad axe, sharpened it and went into the stables. Snap! off came the
head of the first horse, then the next, till she had killed all twelve.
The foal then stamped upon the ground, whereupon Jack went out, and was
thus spoken to by his foal:
"Now then, dear master! rouse up all your brothers, and tell them to
saddle their horses! and let them get away from this place without a
moment's delay. Don't let dawn overtake them here, or they are lost. You
yourself can go back and finish your sleep."
Jack rushed in and with great difficulty roused them; and then informed
them of the dangerous position they were in. After a great deal of
trouble, they got up and left the place. Jack himself laid down and had
a sound sleep. As soon as the first streaks of dawn appeared, the foal
again stamped; Jack went out, sat upon it, and as they flew through the
gate the foal gave the railing such a powerful kick that even the house
tottered and fell. The old witch hereupon jumped up in great hurry, sat
a-straddle an iron pole, and rode in pursuit of Jack.
"Stop Jack, you deceitful lad!" she shouted; "you have killed my twelve
daughters, and destroyed my twelve horses. I am not sure whether you
will be able to come again hither or not!"
"If I do, I shall be here; if not, then I shan't."
Poor Jack got weary of his life, not having been able to get himself a
wife. He did not return to his native town, but went into the wide,
wide world. As he and his foal were proceeding on their journey, the
steed said to him: "Look, dear master! I have stept on a hair of real
gold; it is here under my hoof. It would bring ill luck if we picked it
up, but it would equally be unlucky to leave it; so you had better take
it with you." Jack picked up the golden hair, and re-mounted his foal,
and continued his journey. After a while the foal again spoke, saying:
"My dear master! now I have stept on a half horse-shoe of pure gold, it
is here under my hoof. It would be unlucky to take it with us, but we
should not fare better if we left it; so you had better take it." Jack
picked up the half horse-shoe of pure gold, put it into his bag, and
they again flew like lightning. They reached a town just as the evening
bell rang, and stopped in front of an hostelry; Jack got off, walked in
and asked the innkeeper:
"Well, my dear host, what is the news in this town?"
"Nothing else, my kinsman, but that the king's coachman, who drove his
state-coach, is lying on his death-bed; if you care for the situation,
you had better take it."
So Jack at once made up his mind, and went to see the king--who was then
still a bachelor--and was at once engaged by him to drive the
state-coach. He did not ask for any wages, but only stipulated that his
foal should be allowed to feed with the coach-horses from the same
manger. To this the king agreed, and Jack at once proceeded to the
stables. In the evening the other grooms (there were some fifty or sixty
of them) raised a great cry, and all asked for candles from the woman
who served out the stores. But Jack did not want any, so he did not ask
for any, and still his horses were in better condition, and were better
groomed than the rest. All the other grooms used a whole candle a head
every night. This set the storekeeper woman thinking; she could not
imagine how it could be that, whereas all the other men wanted a whole
candle a head every blessed night, the man who drove the state-coach
did not want any, and still his horses looked a hundred times better
than the others. She told the strange discovery to the king, who
immediately sent for all the men with the exception of Jack.
"Well, my sons, tell me this: How is it that every one of you burns a
whole candle every night, whereas my state-coachman has never asked for
any, and still his horses look seven times better than yours?"
"Oh, your majesty, he has no need to ask for any; we could do without
them, if we were in his position."
"How is that, explain yourselves."
"Because, sir, he does his work one morning by the light of a golden
hair, and every other morning by the rays of half a horse-shoe of pure
gold."
The king dismissed the grooms, and the next day at dawn concealed
himself, and watched Jack, and satisfied himself with his own eyes that
his men had spoken the truth. So soon as he got back into his rooms, he
sent for Jack, and addressed him thus:
"I say, my boy, you were working this morning by the light of a hair of
real gold."
"That is not true, your majesty; where on earth could I get a hair of
real gold?"
"Don't let us waste any words! I saw it with my own eyes this morning.
If the girl to whom that golden hair belonged is not here by to-morrow
morning you forfeit your life! I'll hang you!"
Poor Jack returned to the stables and wept like a child. "What is the
matter?" inquired his foal; "Why do I see those tears? what makes you
cry?"
"How could I help crying and weeping? the king has just sent for me and
told me that if I can't produce the girl to whom the golden hair
belonged he will hang me."
"This is indeed a very serious look-out, my dear master, because you
must know that the old witch whose twelve girls we have slain has yet
another most beautiful daughter; the girl has not yet been allowed to
see daylight, she is always kept in a special room which she has never
yet left, and in which six candles are kept burning day and night--that
is the girl to whom that golden hair once belonged. But never mind, eat
and drink to your heart's content, we will go and fetch her. But be
cautious when you enter the house where the daughter of the old witch is
guarded, because there are a dozen bells over the door, and they may
betray you."
Jack therefore ate and drank, and took a bucketful of wine to his foal
too, and gave it a drink. Then they started and went and went, until
after a while they reached the dwelling of the old witch. Jack
dismounted, cautiously approached the door, carefully muffled the dozen
bells, and gently opened the door without making the slightest noise.
And lo! inside he beheld the girl with the golden tresses, such a
wonderfully pretty creature the like of which he had not set his eyes
upon before during all his eventful life. He stole up to her bedside on
tiptoe, grasped the girl round the waist, and in another second was
again out of the house, carrying her off with him. He ran as fast as he
could and mounted his steed. The foal gave a parting kick to the house
that made the roof tumble in, and the next moment was off, high up in
the air like a swift bird. But the old witch was not slow either, the
moment she was roused she mounted a long fir-pole and tore after Jack
like forked lightning.
"It is you, Jack, you good-for-nothing, deceitful fellow! My twelve
daughters have perished by your hand, and now you carry off my
thirteenth! You may have been here before, but I'll take care that you
don't come again."
"If I do, I do; if I don't, I don't."
Jack went and went, and by dawn had already reached home; he conducted
the girl into the king's presence, and lo! no sooner had the monarch
caught sight of her than he rushed forward and embraced her, saying:
"Oh, my darling, my pretty love, you are mine and I am yours!" But the
girl would not utter a single word, not for the whole world. This made
the king question her: "What is the matter, my love? Why are you so
sad?"
"How can I help being sad? Nobody can have me until some one brings
hither all my goods and chattels, my spinning-wheel and distaff, nay,
the very dust in my room."
The king at once sent for Jack.
"Well, my boy, if the golden-haired girl's goods and chattels,
spinning-wheel, distaff, and the very dust in her room, are not here by
to-morrow morning, I will hang you."
Jack was very much downcast and began to cry. When he reached the
stables his foal again asked him: "What's the matter with you, my dear
master? Why all this sorrow?"
"How can I help weeping and crying, my dear horse; the king has sent for
me and threatened to hang me if the golden-haired girl's goods and
chattels, nay, the very dust of her room, be not here by to-morrow
morning."
"Don't fret, my dear master, we will go and fetch them too. Get a
table-cloth somewhere, and when you enter her room spread out the cloth
on the floor and sweep all her paraphernalia into it."
Jack got ready and started on his errand. Within a short time he reached
the dwelling of the old witch, entered the room, and spread out his
cloth. But, would anybody believe it, the glare of the place very nearly
blinded him; the very dust on the floor was pure gold. He swept
everything he could find into the table-cloth, swung the bundle on his
back, and ran out; having got outside, the foal at his bidding gave the
building a powerful kick that demolished its very foundations. This woke
the old witch, who immediately mounted a red-hot broom and tore after
him like a whirlwind.
"Confound you, deceitful Jack! after you have robbed me of all my
thirteen daughters, you now come and steal the chattels of the youngest
girl. I warrant that you won't return hither any more."
"If I do, I do; if I don't, I don't."
Jack went home with the luggage and handed it to the king.
"Well, my darling, my pretty love! your wish is now fulfilled, and
nothing can prevent you from becoming mine."
"You shall have me, but only on one condition. Somebody must go for my
stud with golden hair, which is to be found beyond the Red Sea. Until
all my horses are here nobody can have me."
The king again sent for Jack.
"Listen to this, my boy; the girl with the golden hair has a
golden-haired stud beyond the Red Sea; if you don't go at once to fetch
them, you forfeit your life."
Jack went down stairs in great trouble, bent over his foal, buried his
face in his hands, and wept most bitterly, and as he sobbed and moaned
the little foal asked: "What are you crying about now?" Jack told the
foal what the king had ordered him to do, and what the punishment would
be if the order were not obeyed.
"Don't weep, dear master, don't fret; the thing can be done if you
follow my directions. Go up stairs to the king and beg of him twelve
buffalo-hides, twelve balls of twine, a grubbing-hoe, and an ordinary
hoe, besides a stout awl to sew the buffalo-hides together with."
Jack went to the king and declared himself willing to carry out his
order if he would let him have these things, to which the king replied:
"Go and take anything that you may require, there must be some sixty
buffalo-hides still left hanging in the loft."
Jack went up to the loft and took what he wanted; then he ate and drank,
gave his foal a bucketful of wine, and set out in search of the horses
with the golden hair.
He journeyed on till, after a short lapse of time, he reached the Red
Sea, which he crossed on the back of his foal. As soon as they emerged
from the water and gained the opposite shore, the foal said: "Look, my
dear master; can you see the pear-tree on that hill yonder? Let's go up
on the hill, take your hoe and dig a hole big enough to hold me; and as
soon as you have dug the hole sew the twelve buffalo-hides together and
wrap them round me, as it would not be advisable for me to get into the
hole without them. As soon as I have got in, blow this whistle and the
stallion will appear; and the moment you see it touching the buffalo
skins, throw a halter over its head."
Jack tucked up his shirt-sleeves, dug the hole, sewed the twelve
buffalo-hides on to the foal, and his steed got into the hole. Then he
blew the whistle, and lo! a fine stallion, with golden hair, and almost
entirely covered with golden froth, jumped out of the ground; it pranced
about, and kicked out in all directions, whereupon Jack's foal said:
"Now then, my dear master, throw that halter over its head and jump on
its back." Jack did as he was told; when, no sooner was he on its back,
than the stallion gave a tremendous neigh that rent all the mountains
asunder. At its call a vast number of golden-haired horses appeared; so
many, that Jack was not able to count them. The whole herd immediately
took to their heels, and galloped off with the speed of lightning. The
king had not yet finished dressing in the morning when the whole stud
with golden hair stood arrayed in his courtyard. So soon as he caught
sight of them he rushed off to the girl with the golden hair and
exclaimed: "Well, my love, the golden horses are all here, and now you
are mine." "Oh, no! I shan't be yours. I won't touch either food or
drink until the lad who has fetched my animals milks the mares."
The king sent for Jack.
"I say, my boy, if you do not at once milk the mares, I'll play the
hangman with you."
"How can I milk them, sir? Even as they are, I find it difficult to save
myself from being trampled to death."
"Do not let us waste any words; it must be done!"
Jack returned to the stables, and looked very sad; he would not touch
any food or drink. His foal again addressed him and asked: "Why all this
sorrow, dear master?"
"How could I help being sad? The king has ordered me to milk the mares
no matter what happens, whether I get over it dead or alive."
"Don't fret. Ask him to lend you the tub up in the loft, and milk the
mares. They won't do you the least harm."
And so it happened. Jack fetched the tub and milked the mares. They
stood all the time as quietly as the most patient milch-cows. The king
then said to the girl with the golden hair, "Well, my darling; your wish
is fulfilled, and you are mine."
"I shan't be yours until the lad who milked the mares has bathed in the
milk."
The king sent for Jack.
"Well, my boy, as you have milked the mares, you had better bathe in the
milk."
"Gracious majesty! How could I do that? The milk is boiling hot, and
throws up bubbles as high as a man."
"Don't talk; you have to bathe in the milk or you forfeit your life."
Jack went down and cried, and gave up all hope of life; he was sure of
death on the gallows. His foal again spoke, and said: "Don't cry, dear
master, but tell me what is the matter with you." Jack told him what he
had to do under penalty of death.
"Don't fret, my dear master; but go to the king and ask his permission
to allow you to lead me to the tub, and be present when you take your
bath. I will draw out all the heat, and you can bathe in the milk
without any fear."
So Jack went to the king, and said, "Well, gracious majesty, at least
grant me the favour of allowing my foal to be present when I am having
my bath, so that it may see me give up the ghost."
"I don't care if there be a hundred foals present."
Jack returned to the stables, led his foal to the tub, who began to
sniff. At last it took a deep breath, and beckoned to Jack not to jump
in yet. Then it continued drawing in its breath, and suddenly at a sign
Jack jumped into the tub, and had his bath. When he finished and got out
of the tub he was three times more handsome than before; although he was
a very handsome lad then. When the king saw this he said to the lad:
"Well, Jack, you see you would not have the bath at first. I'm going to
have one myself." The king jumped in, but in the meantime the foal had
sent all the heat into the milk back again, and the tyrant was scalded
to death. The heat was so intense that nothing was left of his body
except a few bits of bone, as big as my little finger, which were every
now and then brought up by the bubbles. Jack lost not a moment, but
rushed up to the girl with the golden hair, embraced and kissed her, and
said: "Well, my pretty darling, love of my heart, you are now mine, and
I am yours; not even the spade and the hoe shall separate us one from
another." To which she replied: "Oh, my love, Jackie, for a long time
this has been one of my fondest wishes, as I knew that you were a brave
lad."
The wedding was celebrated with great pomp, that gave people something
to talk about over seven countries. I, too, was present at the banquet,
and kept on shouting: "Chef! Cook! let me have a bone," till, at last,
he did take up a bone and threw it at me. It hit me, and made my side
ache ever since.
THE LOVER'S GHOST.
Somewhere, I don't know where, even beyond the Operencian Seas, there
was once a maid. She had lost her father and mother, but she loved the
handsomest lad in the village where she lived. They were as happy
together as a pair of turtle-doves in the wood. They fixed the day of
the wedding at a not very distant date, and invited their most intimate
friends to it; the girl, her godmother--the lad, a dear old friend of
his.
Time went on, and the wedding would have taken place in another week,
but in the meantime war broke out in the country. The king called out
all his fighting-men to march against the enemy. The sabres were
sharpened, and gallant fellows, on fine, gaily-caparisoned horses,
swarmed to the banners of the king, like bees. John, our hero, too, took
leave of his pretty _fiancée_; he led out his grey charger, mounted, and
said to his young bride: "I shall be back in three years, my dove; wait
until then, and don't be afraid; I promise to bring you back my love and
remain faithful to you, even were I tempted by the beauty of a thousand
other girls." The lass accompanied him as far as the frontier, and
before parting solemnly promised to him, amidst a shower of tears, that
all the treasures of the whole world should not tempt her to marry
another, even if she had to wait ten years for her John.
The war lasted two years, and then peace was concluded between the
belligerents. The girl was highly pleased with the news, because she
expected to see her lover return with the others. She grew impatient,
and would sally forth on the road by which he was expected to return, to
meet him. She would go out often ten times a day, but as yet she had no
tidings of her John. Three years elapsed; four years had gone by, and
the bridegroom had not yet returned. The girl could not wait any longer,
but went to see her godmother, and asked for her advice, who (I must
tell you, between ourselves) was a witch. The old hag received her well,
and gave her the following direction: "As it will be full moon to-morrow
night, go into the cemetery, my dear girl, and ask the gravedigger to
give you a human skull. If he should refuse, tell him that it is I who
sent you. Then bring the skull home to me, and we shall place it in a
huge earthenware pot, and boil it with some millet, for, say, two hours.
You may be sure it will let you know whether your lover is alive yet or
dead, and perchance it will entice him here." The girl thanked her for
her good advice, and went to the cemetery next night. She found the
gravedigger enjoying his pipe in front of the gate.
"Good evening to you, dear old father."
"Good evening, my lass! What are you doing here at this hour of the
night?"
"I have come to you to ask you to grant me a favour."
"Let me hear what it is; and, if I can, I will comply with your
request."
"Well, then, give me a human skull!"
"With pleasure; but what do you intend to do with it?"
"I don't know exactly, myself; my godmother has sent me for it."
"Well and good; here is one, take it."
The girl carefully wrapped up the skull, and ran home with it. Having
arrived at home, she put it in a huge earthenware pot with some millet,
and at once placed it on the fire. The millet soon began to boil and
throw up bubbles as big as two fists. The girl was eagerly watching it
and wondering what would happen. When, all of a sudden, a huge bubble
formed on the surface of the boiling mass, and went off with a loud
report like a musket. The next moment the girl saw the skull balanced on
the rim of the pot. "He has started," it said, in a vicious tone. The
girl waited a little longer, when two more loud reports came from the
pot, and the skull said, "He has got halfway." Another few moments
elapsed, when the pot gave three very loud reports, and the skull was
heard to say, "He has arrived outside in the yard." The maid thereupon
rushed out, and found her lover standing close to the threshold. His
charger was snow-white, and he himself was clad entirely in white,
including his helmet and boots. As soon as he caught sight of the girl,
he asked: "Will you come to the country where I dwell?" "To be sure, my
dear Jack; to the very end of the world." "Then come up into my saddle."
The girl mounted into the saddle, and they embraced and kissed one
another ever so many times.
"And is the country where you live very far from here?"
"Yes, my love, it is very far; but in spite of the distance it will not
take us long to get there."
Then they started on their journey. When they got outside the village,
they saw ten mounted men rush past, all clad in spotless white, like to
the finest wheat flour. As soon as they vanished, another ten appeared,
and could be very well seen in the moonlight, when suddenly John said:
"How beautifully shines the moon, the moon;
"How beautifully march past the dead.
"Are you afraid, my love, my little Judith?"
"I am not afraid while I can see you, my dear Jack."
As they proceeded, the girl saw a hundred mounted men; they rode past in
beautiful military order, like soldiers. So soon as the hundred vanished
another hundred appeared and followed the others. Again her lover said:
"How beautifully shines the moon, the moon;
"How beautifully march past the dead.
"Are you afraid, my love, my little Judith?"
"I am not afraid while I can see you, my darling Jack."
And as they proceeded the mounted men appeared in fast increasing
numbers, so that she could not count them; some rode past so close that
they nearly brushed against her. Again her lover said:
"How beautifully shines the moon, the moon;
"How beautifully march past the dead.
"Are you afraid, my love, my little Judith?"
"I am not afraid while I see you, Jack, my darling."
"You are a brave and good girl, my dove; I see that you would do
anything for me. As a reward, you shall have everything that your heart
can wish when we get to my new country."
They went along till they came to an old burial-ground, which was
inclosed by a black wall. John stopped here and said to his sweetheart:
"This is our country, my little Judith, we shall soon come to our
house." The house to which John alluded was an open grave, at the bottom
of which an empty coffin could be seen with the lid off. "Go in, my
darling," said the lad. "You had better go first, my love Jack," replied
the girl, "you know the way." Thereupon the lad descended into the grave
and laid down in the coffin; but the lass, instead of following him, ran
away as fast as her feet would carry her, and took refuge in a mansion
that was situated a couple of miles from the cemetery. When she had
reached the mansion she shook every door, but none of them would open to
her entreaties, except one that led to a long corridor, at the end of
which there was a dead body laid out in state in a coffin. The lass
secreted herself in a dark corner of the fire-place.
As soon as John discovered that his bride had run away he jumped out of
the grave and pursued the lass, but in spite of all his exertions could
not overtake her. When he reached the door at the end of the corridor he
knocked and exclaimed: "Dead man, open the door to a fellow dead man."
The corpse inside began to tremble at the sound of these words. Again
said Jack, "Dead man, open the door to a fellow dead man." Now the
corpse sat up in the coffin, and as Jack repeated a third time the words
"Dead man, open the door to a fellow dead man," the corpse walked to the
door and opened it.
"Is my bride here?"
"Yes, there she is, hiding in the corner of the fire-place."
"Come and let us tear her in pieces." And with this intention they both
approached the girl, but just as they were about to lay hands upon her
the cock in the loft began to crow, and announced daybreak, and the two
dead men disappeared.
The next moment a most richly attired gentleman entered from one of the
neighbouring rooms. Judging by his appearance one would have believed it
was the king himself, who at once approached the girl and overwhelmed
her with his embraces and kisses.
"Thank you so much. The corpse that you saw here laid out in state was
my brother. I have already had him buried three hundred and sixty-five
times with the greatest pomp, but he has returned each time. As you have
relieved me of him, my sweet, pretty darling, you shall become mine and
I yours; not even the hoe and the spade shall separate us from one
another!"
The girl consented to the proposal of the rich gentleman, and they got
married and celebrated their wedding-feast during the same winter.
This is how far the tale goes. This is the end of it.
SNAKE SKIN.
Far, very far, there was once, I do not know where, even beyond the
frozen Operencian Sea, a poplar-tree, on the top of which there was a
very old, tattered petticoat. In the tucks of this old petticoat I found
the following tale. Whosoever listens to it will not see the kingdom of
heaven.
There was in the world a poor man and this poor man had twelve sons. The
man was so poor that sometimes he had not even enough wood to make a
fire with. So he had frequently to go into the forest and would pick up
there what he could find. One day, as he could not come across anything
else, he was just getting ready to cut up a huge tree-stump, and, in
fact, had already driven his axe into it, when an immense,
dread-inspiring serpent, as big as a grown-up lad, crept out of the
stump. The poor man began to ponder whether to leave it or to take it
home with him; it might bring him luck or turn out a disastrous venture.
At last he made up his mind that after all was said and done he would
take it home with him. And so it happened, he picked up the creature and
carried it home. His wife was not a little astonished at seeing him
arrive with his burden, and said, "What on earth induced you, master, to
bring that ugly creature home? It will frighten all the children to
death."
"No fear, wife," replied the man; "they won't be afraid of it; on the
contrary, they will be glad to have it to play with."
As it was just meal-time, the poor woman dished out the food and placed
it on the table. The twelve children were soon seated and busily engaged
with their spoons, when suddenly the serpent began to talk from
underneath the table, and said, "Mother, dear, let me have some of that
soup."
They were all not a little astonished at hearing a serpent talk; and the
woman ladled out a plateful of soup and placed it under the bench. The
snake crept to the plate and in another minute had drunk up the soup,
and said: "I say, father, will you go into the larder and fetch me a
loaf of bread?"
"Alas! my son," replied the poor man, "it is long--very long--since
there was any bread in the larder. I was wealthy then; but now the very
walls of the larder are coming down."
"Just try, father, and fetch me a loaf from there."
"What's the good of my going, when there is nothing to be found there?"
"Just go and see."
After a good deal of pressing the poor man went to the larder when--oh,
joy!--he was nearly blinded by the sight of the mass of gold, silver,
and other treasure; it glittered on all sides. Moreover, bacon and hams
were hanging from the roof, casks filled with honey, milk, &c., standing
on the floor; the bins were full of flour; in a word, there were to be
seen all imaginable things to bake and roast. The poor man rushed back
and fetched the family to see the miracle, and they were all astounded,
but did not dare to touch anything.
Then the serpent again spoke and said "Listen to me, mother dear. Go up
to the king and ask him to give me his daughter in marriage."
"Oh, my dear son, how can you ask me to do that? You must know that the
king is a great man, and he would not even listen to a pauper like
myself."
"Just go and try."
So the poor woman went to the king's palace, knocked at the door, and,
entering, greeted the king, and said: "May the Lord grant you a happy
good day, gracious king!"
"May the Lord grant the same to you, my good woman. What have you
brought? What can I do for you?"
"Hum! most gracious king, I hardly dare to speak ... but still I will
tell you.... My son has sent me to request your majesty to give him your
youngest daughter in marriage."
"I will grant him the request, good woman, on one condition. If your son
will fill with gold a sack of the size of a full-grown man, and send it
here, he can have the princess at any minute."
The poor woman was greatly pleased at hearing this; returned home and
delivered the message.
"That can easily be done, dear mother. Let's have a wagon, and the king
shall have the gold to a grain."
And so it happened. They borrowed a wagon of the king, the serpent
filled a sack of the required size full of gold, and put a heap of gold
and diamonds loose in the wagon besides. The king was not a little
astonished, and exclaimed, "Well! upon my word, although I am a king I
do not possess so much gold as this lad." And the princess was
accordingly given away.
It happened that the two elder princesses were also to be married
shortly, and orders were issued by the king that the wedding of his
youngest daughter should take place at the same time. The state carriage
was therefore wheeled out of the shed, six fine horses were put to it,
the youngest princess sat in it and drove straight to the poor man's
cottage to fetch her bridegroom. But the poor girl very nearly jumped
out of the coach when she saw the snake approaching. But the snake tried
to allay her fears and said, "Don't shrink from me, I am your
bridegroom," and with this crept into the carriage. The bride--poor
thing, what could she do?--put her arm round the snake and covered him
with her shawl, as she did not wish to let the whole town know her
misfortune. Then they drove to church. The priest threw up his arms in
amazement when he saw the bridegroom approach the altar. From church
they drove to the castle. There kings, princes, dukes, barons, and
deputy-lieutenants of the counties were assembled at the festival and
enjoying themselves; they were all dancing their legs off in true Magyar
style, and very nearly kicked out the sides of the dancing-room, when
suddenly the youngest princess entered, followed by her bridegroom, who
crept everywhere after her. The king upon seeing this grew very angry,
and exclaimed, "Get out of my sight! A girl who will marry such a
husband does not deserve to stay under the same roof with me, and I will
take care that you two do not remain here. Body-guards, conduct this
woman with her snake-husband down into the poultry-yard, and lock them
up in the darkest poultry-house among the geese. Let them stay there,
and don't allow them to come here to shock my guests with their
presence."
And so it happened. The poor couple were locked up with the geese; there
they were left crying and weeping, and lived in great sorrow until the
day when the curse expired, and the snake--who was a bewitched
prince--became a very handsome young man, whose very hair was of pure
gold. And, as you may imagine, great was the bride's joy when she saw
the change.
"I say, love," spoke her prince, "I will go home to my father's and
fetch some clothes and other things; in the meantime, stay here; don't
be afraid. I shall be back ere long without fail."
Then the prince shook himself and became a white pigeon, and flew away.
Having arrived at his father's place he said to his parent, "My dear
father, let me have back my former horse, my saddle, sword, gun, and all
my other goods and chattels. The power of the curse has now passed away,
and I have taken a wife to myself."
"The horse is in the stables, my son, and all your other things are up
in the loft."
The prince led out his horse, fetched down his things from the loft, put
on his rich uniform all glittering with gold, mounted his charger, and
flew up into the air. He was yet at a good distance from the castle
where the festivities were still going on, when all the loveliest
princesses turned out and crowded the balconies to see who the great
swell was whom they saw coming. He did not pass under the crossbeam of
the gate, but flew over it like a bird. He tied his charger to a tree in
the yard, and then entered the castle and walked among the dancers. The
dance was immediately stopped, everybody gazed upon him and admired him,
and tried to get into his favour. For amusement several of the guests
did various tricks; at last his turn came, and by Jove! he did show them
things that made the guests open their mouths and eyes in astonishment.
He could transform himself into a wild duck, a pigeon, a quail, and so
on, into anything one could conceive of.
After the conjuring was over he went into the poultry-yard to fetch his
bride. He made her a hundred times prettier than she already was, and
dressed her up in rich garments of pure silver and gold. The assembled
guests were very sorry that the handsome youth in rich attire, who had
shown them such amusing and clever tricks, had so soon left them.
All at once the king remembered the newly-married couple and thought he
would go to see what the young folks were doing in the poultry-yard. He
sent down a few of his friends, who were nearly overpowered by the shine
and glitter on looking into the poultry-house. They at once unlocked the
door, and led the bride and bridegroom into their royal father's
presence. When they entered the castle, every one was struck with wonder
at discovering that the bridegroom was no one else than the youth who
had amused them shortly before.
Then the bridegroom walked up to the king and said: "Gracious majesty,
my father and king, for the past twelve years I lay under a curse and
was compelled to wear a serpent's skin. When I entered, not long ago,
your castle in my former plight, I was the laughing-stock of everybody,
all present mocked me. But now, as my time of curse has passed, let me
see the man who can put himself against me."
"There is, indeed, nobody, no man living," replied the king.
The bridegroom then led off his bride to the dance, and celebrated such
a fine wedding, that it was talked of over seven countries.
THE FAIRIES' WELL.
Tale, tale, mate; a black little bird flew on the tree; it broke one of
its legs; a new cloak, a shabby old cloak; it put it on.
Well, to commence! there was in the world a king, who was called the
"Green King," and who had three daughters. He did not like them at all;
he would have very much preferred if they had been boys. He continually
scolded and abused them, and one day, in a fit of passion, the words
slipped from his lips: "What _is_ the good of all these wenches? I wish
the devil would come and fetch them all three!" The devil wasn't slow;
he took the king at his word and ran away with all three girls at once.
The king's fondest wish was hereafter fulfilled; his wife bore him three
sons, and he was very fond of them.
But the king grew old; his hair turned quite grey. So his sons set out
for the fairies' well to fetch their father some youth-giving water.
They wandered along till they came to a small road-side inn, where they
had something to eat and drink, and gave their horses hay and corn. They
tippled for some time, until the two elder princes got jolly, and
commenced to dance in true style. The youngest one every now and then
reminded them that it was time to continue the journey, but they would
not listen to him. "Don't talk so much," they said, "if you are so very
anxious to be off you had better leave us and go alone."
So the youngest saddled his horse and left his two brothers. He
travelled along until all of a sudden he discovered that he had lost his
way and found himself in a vast forest. In wandering hither and thither,
he came to a small hut in which an old hermit dwelt. He at once went to
it, knocked and entered, and greeted the old man, saying, "May the Lord
grant you a happy good day, my father."
"The Lord bless you, my son! where are you going?"
"Well, old father, I intend to go to the fairies' well for some
youth-giving water, if I can the way thither."
"May the Lord help you, my son! I don't believe that you will be able to
get there unaided, because it is a difficult journey. But I will tell
you something. I have a piebald horse, that will carry you without
mishap to the fairies' well. I will let you have it if you promise to
bring me back some youth-giving water."
"I will bring you some with pleasure, old father. You are quite welcome
to it."
"Very well, my son! Get on the piebald, and be off in the name of
Heaven!"
The piebald horse was led out and saddled, the prince mounted, and in
another second they were high up in the air, like birds, because the
piebald was a magic horse that at all times grazed on the silken meadow,
the meadow of the fairies. On they travelled, till all at once the
piebald said:
"I say, dear master, I suppose you know that once you had three sisters,
and that all three were carried off by the devil. We will go and pay a
visit to the eldest. It is true, your brother-in-law is at this moment
out rabbiting, but he will be back soon if I go to fetch him. He will
ask you to bring him, also, some youth-giving water. I'll tell you what
to do. He has a plaid which has the power of making the wearer
invisible. If you put it on, nobody on this earth can see you. If he
will give you that plaid you can promise him as much water as he likes;
a whole tub full, if he wants it."
When they reached the house, the prince walked in; and the piebald horse
immediately hurried off to the fields, and began to drive the devil so
that his eyes sparkled. As the devil ran homewards, he passed a pair of
gallows with a man hanging upon them; he lifted off the corpse, and ran
away with it. Having arrived at home, he called from the yard through
the window: "Take this, wife! half of him roasted, the other half
boiled, for my meal. Be sure to have him ready by the time I get
inside." Thereupon he pitched the dead man through the window; the meal
was ready in a minute and the devil walked in, sat down and ate him.
Having finished, he happened to look towards the oven and caught sight
of the prince.
"Halloo! is it you, brother-in-law? Why did you not speak? What a pity
that I did not notice you sooner? You are just too late; you could have
had a bit or two of my bonne-bouche."
"Thank you, brother-in-law. I don't care for your dainties."
"Well, then get him some wine, wife! perhaps he will have some of that?"
The wife brought in the wine and placed it on the table, and the two set
to drinking.
"May I ask, what are you looking for in this strange part of the world?"
inquired the devil.
"I am going to the fairies' well for some youth-giving water."
"Look here, my good man, I am a bit of a smart fellow myself, something
better than you, and still I could not accomplish that journey. I can
get to within about fourteen miles of the place, but even there the heat
is so great that it shrivels me up like bacon-rind."
"Well, I will go all the same, if Heaven will help me!"
"And I will give you as much gold and silver as you can carry, if you
will bring me back a gourdful of that water."
"I'll bring you back some, but for nothing less than for the plaid
hanging on that peg. If you will give that to me you shall have the
water."
At first the devil would not part with the plaid on any account; but the
prince begged so hard that the devil at last yielded.
"Well, brother-in-law! This is such a plaid, that if you put it on
nobody can see you."
The prince was just going when the devil asked him, "Have you any money
for the journey, brother?"
"I had a little, but I have spent it all."
"Then you had better have some more." Whereupon he emptied a whole
dishful of copper coins into the prince's bag. The prince went out into
the yard and shook the bridle; the piebald horse at once appeared, and
the prince mounted. The devil no sooner caught sight of the piebald than
he exclaimed, addressing the prince, "Oh, you rascally fellow! Then you
travel on that villainous creature--the persecutor and murderer of our
kinsfolk? Give me back at once my plaid and my gourd, I don't want any
of your youth-giving water!"
But the prince was not such a fool as to give him back the plaid. In a
minute the piebald was high up in the air and flew off like a bird. They
travelled along until the horse again spoke and said, "Well then, dear
master, we will now go and look up your second sister. True, your
brother-in-law is out rabbiting, but he will soon be back if I go for
him. He, too, will offer you all sorts of things in return for getting
him some youth-giving water. Don't ask for anything else but for a ring
on the window sill, which has this virtue, that it will squeeze your
finger and wake you in case of need."
The prince went into the house and the piebald fetched the devil.
Everything happened as at the previous house. The devil had his meal,
recognised his brother-in-law, sent for wine, and asked the prince:
"Well, what are you doing in this neighbourhood?"
"I am going to the fairies' well for some youth-giving water."
"You don't mean that! You have undertaken a very difficult task. I am as
good a man as a hundred of your stamp put together, and still I can't go
there. The heat there is so great that it would shrivel me up like
bacon-rind at a distance of fourteen miles. They boil lead there as we
boil water here."
"Still I intend to go, by the help of Heaven."
"Very well, brother-in-law. I will give you so much treasure that you
can fill several wagons with it, if you will bring me a gourd full of
that youth-giving water."
"I don't want anything, brother-in-law, but that ring in the window
yonder."
"Of what use would it be to you?"
"Oh! I don't know; let me have it."
So after a good deal of pressing the devil gave him the ring and said:
"Well, brother-in-law, this is such a ring that it will squeeze your
finger and wake you, no matter how sound you may be asleep."
By this time the prince had already reached the courtyard, and was ready
to start, when the devil stopped him and said:
"Stop a bit, brother-in-law, have you any money for the journey?"
"I had a little, but it is all gone," replied the prince.
"Then you had better have some." Whereupon the devil emptied a dishful
of silver money into the prince's bag. The prince then shook the bridle
and the piebald horse at once appeared, which nearly frightened the
devil into a fit.
"Oh, you rascally fellow!" he exclaimed. "Then you are in league with
the persecutor of our kinsfolk? Stop! Give me back that ring and gourd
at once. I don't want any of your youth-giving water!"
But the Green Prince took no notice of the devil's shouting and flew
away on his piebald like a bird. They had been travelling for some
distance when the horse said: "We shall now go to see your youngest
sister. Her husband, too, is out at present rabbiting, but I shall fetch
him in, in no time. He, also, will beseech you to get him some
youth-giving water, but don't you yield, no matter how much wealth he
promises you, until he gives you his sword that hangs on the wall. It is
such a weapon that at your command it will slay the populations of seven
countries."
In the meantime they reached the house. The Green Prince walked in and
the piebald went to look for the third devil. Everything happened as on
the two previous occasions, and the devil asked his wife to send him in
three casks of wine, and they commenced drinking. All of a sudden the
devil asked, "Where are you going?"
"I am going to the fairies' well for some youth-giving water. My father
has grown very old and requires some of the water to give him back his
youth."
The devil replied that it was impossible to get there on account of the
great heat. To which the prince said, that he was determined to go, no
matter what might happen.
"Very well," continued the devil. "I will give you as much gold and
silver as your heart can wish or your mouth name if you will bring me
back a gourd full of the water."
"The gold is of no use to me; I have plenty of it at home; as much as I
need. But if you will give me that sword on the wall, I will bring you
some water from the fairies' well, with pleasure."
"Of what use would that sword be to you? You can't do anything with it."
"No matter. Let me have it."
The devil, at first, would not part with the sword; but, at last, he
gave in. The Green Prince went into the yard, and was about to start,
when the devil asked:
"Brother-in-law, have you any money left for the journey?"
"I had some; but it's nearly gone."
"Then you had better have some." And with this the devil put a plateful
of gold coins into the prince's bag. The latter shook the bridle and his
piebald appeared. The devil was very much alarmed at the sight, and
exclaimed: "You rascal, then you associate with our arch-persecutor. Let
me have back my sword and the gourd, I don't want any of your water."
But the prince did not listen to him; in fact he had no time to heed the
devil's words even if he had any intention of doing so, as he was
already high up in the air, and the piebald now questioned him: "How
shall we go, dear master? shall we fly as fast as the whirlwind, or like
a flash of thought?" "Just as you please, my dear horse."
And the piebald flew away, with the prince on its back, in the direction
of the fairies' well. Soon they reached their goal, and alighted on the
ground, whereupon the horse said: "Well, my dear master, we have reached
our destination. Put on the plaid that the first devil gave you and walk
into the fairy queen's palace. The queen has just sat down to supper.
Eat, drink, and enjoy yourself. Don't be afraid, nobody will know that
you are there. In the meantime I will go into the silken meadow and
graze with the horses of the fairy over night. I shall return in the
morning and we will then fill our gourd."
And so it happened. The Green Prince put on the plaid and walked into
the fairy queen's dining-room, sat down and supped, and for every glass
of wine consumed by the fairy he drank two. The supper over they enjoyed
themselves. Suddenly the fairy queen felt a sensation as if she were
touched by a man, although she could not see anybody. She thereupon
exclaimed to her fairies: "Fairies, fairies, keep the bellows going
under the boiling lead. Some calamity will befall us to-night."
In the morning the piebald appeared before the castle; the Green Prince
was still fast asleep, but luckily the ring squeezed his finger and he
awoke and so was saved. He lost no time in going down to his horse.
"I am glad to tell you, my dear master, that all is well. They have not
yet been able to see you. Let us go and get the water at once. This is
how you must proceed. Stick the gourd on the point of your sword and
then dip it under. But, be careful; the gourd must touch the water
before my feet get wet, or else we must pay with our lives for our
audacity."
The Green Prince did as he was told. He stuck the gourd on the point of
the sword and dipped it into the well, before the piebald's hoofs
touched the surface of the water.
"Well, my dear master, this has gone off without mishap. Let us at once
go and liberate your sisters." First they visited the youngest. The
Green Prince put on the plaid, and brought her away unnoticed. Then he
rescued the second princess; and at last the eldest, by the aid of his
plaid. And their diabolic husbands never noticed that they had been
stolen. Having thus liberated his three sisters, he returned without
delay to the hermit's hut.
"Well done, my son! Have you brought back any youth-giving water?"
exclaimed the hermit, as he saw the prince approaching in the distance.
"To be sure, old father; I have brought plenty."
With these words the Green Prince approached the hermit, and allowed
just one drop of the magic water drop on to the old man's hand; and oh,
wonder! immediately a change came over him, and the old man instantly
became young, and looked like a lad of sixteen.
"Well, my son; you have not made your journey in vain. You have secured
the prize that you have striven for; and I shall always be deeply
grateful to you until the end of my days. I won't take back the piebald
from you, as I have another one exactly like it hidden away somewhere.
True, it is only a little foal; but it will grow, and will then be good
enough for me."
Then they parted, and the prince bent his way homewards. Having arrived
at home he allowed a drop of the magic water drop on to his father's
hand, and the old king immediately became a youth of sixteen. And he not
only got younger, but also grew handsomer; and a hundred times better
looking than he ever was before.
But the Green Prince had been away for such a length of time on his
journey to the fairies' well that not even his father could remember
him. The king had completely forgotten that the prince was ever born.
What was he to do? Nobody knew him at his father's palace, or would
recognise him as his father's son; so he conceived the strange idea of
accepting a situation as swineherd in his father's service. He found
stables for the piebald in a cellar at the end of the town.
While he tended his father's pigs, and went through his duties as
swineherd, the fairies travelled all over the world and searched every
nook and corner for the father of the child of their queen. Among other
places they also came to the town of the Green King, and declared that
it was their intention to examine every prince, as the person for whom
they searched could only be a prince. The Green King then suddenly
remembered that he had once another son but did not know his
whereabouts. Something or other, however, recalled to his mind the
swineherd, so he at once took pen and paper and wrote a note to the
swineherd. The purport of the writing was that the king was the real
father of the swineherd, and that the prince should come home with the
least possible delay. The Green King sealed the letter and handed it to
a gipsy with strict instructions to at once deliver it to the swineherd.
The gipsy went, and the swineherd read the note and handed it back to
the messenger, saying:
"My good man, take the note back. They have sent you on a fool's errand.
I am not the son of the Green King."
The gipsy took the letter back in great anger. The swineherd, again, ran
as fast as his legs would carry him to the stables in the cellar at the
outskirts of the town, saddled his piebald, and rode _ventre à terre_ to
the centre of the town, and pulled up in front of the king's palace.
There was such a sight to be seen. A great number of wonderfully pretty
fairies had congregated, and were fanning the fire under a huge cauldron
of boiling lead, which emitted such a heat that nobody could approach.
The eldest prince came out and was about to try his fortune; he was
gorgeously dressed, his garments glittering like a mass of gold. As he
approached the cauldron full of boiling lead, a pretty fairy called out
to him:
"Son of the Green King! are you the father of the child of the queen of
fairies?"
"I am."
"Then jump into this seething mass of boiling lead."
He jumped in and was burnt, shrivelling up to the size of a crab-apple.
"You won't do," said the fairy.
Then the second prince stepped forth; his dress, too, was one mass of
sparkling gold. As he approached the cauldron a fairy exclaimed:
"Son of the Green King! are you the father of the child of the queen of
fairies?"
"I am."
"Then jump into this seething mass of boiling lead."
He jumped in and fared no better than his elder brother.
Now the swineherd rode forth on his piebald horse. His clothes were one
mass of dirt and grease. To him, too, the fairy called out:
"Are you the father of the child of the queen of fairies?"
"I am."
"Then jump into this seething mass of boiling lead like the rest."
And, behold! he spurred the piebald horse, pulled tight the bridle, and
again slackened it. The piebald shot up into the air like an arrow; and,
having reached a good height, it came down with the swineherd on its
back in one bold swoop, and jumped into the cauldron full of boiling
lead without a single hair of him getting hurt. Seeing this, the fairies
at once lifted him out, tore his dirty clothes from him, and dressed him
up in garments becoming a king.
He married the queen of fairies and a sumptuous wedding-feast was
celebrated.
This is the end of my tale.
THE CROW'S NEST.
There was once in the world a poor man who had a wife and two children,
the elder a girl, the younger a boy. The poor man went out one day
ploughing with two wretched little oxen, his only property; his wife
remained at home to do the cooking. The girl, being the older of the two
children, was often sent out on short errands; upon the present
occasion, too, she was away from the house, her mother having sent her
out to borrow a peel, the dough for the bread being very nearly spoilt
for having been kept too long in the trough.
Availing herself of the girl's absence, the mother killed the poor
little boy and hid him in a pot of stewed cabbage. By the time that the
girl returned her dear little brother was half stewed. When the mess was
quite done, the woman poured it into a smaller pot, placed the small pot
into a sling, and sent the food by her daughter to her husband who was
in the field. The man liked the dish very much, and asked the girl:
"What kind of meat is this? It is very nice."
"I believe, dear father, mother had to kill a small lamb last night, and
no doubt she cooked it for you," replied the girl.
But somehow or other the girl learned the true state of things, and the
news nearly broke her heart. She immediately went back to the field,
gathered up the bones of her little brother, carefully wrapped them into
a beautiful piece of new white linen and took them into the nearest
forest, where she hid them in a hollow tree. Nobody can foretell what
will happen, and so it came to pass that the bones did not remain very
long in the hollow of the tree. Next spring a crow came and hatched
them, and they became exactly such a boy as they were before. The boy
would sometimes perch on the edge of the hollow, and sing to a beautiful
tune the following words:--
"My mother killed me,
"My father ate me,
"My sister gathered up my bones,
"She wrapped them in clean white linen,
"She placed them in a hollow tree,
"And now, behold, I'm a young crow."
Upon one occasion, just as he was singing this song, a man with a cloak
strolled by.
"Go on, my son," he said, "repeat that pretty song for me! I live in a
big village, and have travelled a good deal in my lifetime, but I have
never heard such a pretty song."
So the boy again commenced to sing:--
"My mother killed me,
"My father ate me,
"My sister gathered up my bones,
"She wrapped them in clean white linen,
"She placed them in a hollow tree,
"And now, behold, I'm a young crow."
The man with the cloak liked the song very much, and made the boy a
present of his cloak; Then a man with a crutch-stick hobbled by. "Well,
my boy," he said, "sing me that song again. I live in a big village,
have travelled far, but have never heard such a pretty tune." And the
boy again commenced to sing:--
"My mother killed me,
"My father ate me,
"My sister gathered up my bones,
"She wrapped them in clean white linen,
"She placed them in a hollow tree,
"And now behold I'm a young crow."
The man with the crutch-stick, too, liked the song immensely, and gave
the boy his crutch-stick. The next one to pass was a miller. He also
asked the boy to repeat the pretty tune, and as the boy complied with
his request the miller presented him with a millstone.
Then a sudden thought flashed across the boy's head and he flew to his
father's house, settled on the roof, and commenced to sing:--
"My mother killed me,
"My father ate me,
"My sister gathered up my bones,
"She wrapped them in clean white linen,
"She placed them in a hollow tree,
"And now behold I'm a young crow."
The woman was terrified, and said to her daughter, "Go and drive away
that bird, I don't like its croaking." The girl went out and tried to
drive away the bird, but instead of flying away the young crow continued
to sing the same song, and threw down the cloak to his sister. The girl
was much pleased with the present, ran into the house and exclaimed:
"Look here what a nice present that ugly bird has given to me!"
"Very nice indeed; very nice indeed. I will go out too," said her
father. So he went out, and the bird threw down to him the crutch-stick.
The old man was highly delighted with the gift; he was getting very
weak, and the crutch-stick came in useful to him as a support.
"Look here what a strong crutch-stick he has given to me! It will be a
great help to me in my old age."
Then his mother jumped up from behind the oven and said, "I must go out
too; if presents won't shower at least a few might drivel to me."
So she went out and looked up to the roof, and the boy gave her a
present for which she had not bargained. He threw the millstone at her,
which killed her on the spot.
Thus far goes our tale. Here it ends.
WOMAN'S CURIOSITY.
A shepherd saved the life of the daughter of the king of snakes, the
princess narrowly escaping being burnt to death. To show him her
gratitude she taught him the language of animals, and he was able to
understand them. One day his donkey said something that made him smile;
whereupon his wife commenced to tease him, and wanted to know the joke,
but the shepherd was unable to gratify her wish, as his betraying the
secret would have immediately been followed by the penalty of sudden
death. However the wife would not give in and leave him in peace, but
continued to torment her husband with so many questions that he at last
determined to die rather than to bear his wife's ill-temper any longer.
With this view he had his coffin made and brought to his house; he laid
down in the coffin quite prepared for death and ready to divulge the
secret. His faithful dog sat mournfully by his side watching, while the
cock belonging to the house merrily hopped about in the room. The dog
remonstrated with the cock and said that this was not the time for
merriment, seeing how near their master was to death. But the cock
replied quite curtly, "It's master's own fault! why is he such a great
fool and coward? Look at me! I have fifty wives, and they all do as I
tell them to do! If I can get on with so many, surely he ought to be
able to manage one!" Hearing this the shepherd jumped out of the coffin,
seized a wet rope-end and gave the woman a sound thrashing.
Peace was restored, and they lived happily together ever after.
END OF THE TALES.
NOTES TO THE FOLK-TALES.
PRINCE CSIHAN. Kriza xvii.
In this tale and some others (_e.g._ "Fairy Elisabeth") it is said that
in order to celebrate a wedding the clergyman and the _executioner_ were
sent for. Several of the clergy who live among the Székely people on the
very spot have been applied to for an explanation of the perplexing
word, but they were unable to furnish any clue. The word is not given in
Kriza's Glossary. It appears to be one of those curiosities of popular
nomenclature so often found in Hungary, and may be a fanciful name for
"sacristan," or sexton. One of the many names of this official is
"harangozó," _i. e._ the bellringer; hence the individual who holds the
corresponding office among the Jews is in small villages sometimes
called "the Jewish bellringer," a clear case of _lucus a non lucendo_. A
friend of the editors (who is a Székely) says that "hóhér" in his part
means any one who torments, maltreats, or brutalises another. It is also
made into a verb thus, "hóhérholja a lovat," "he maltreats the horse."
He says that the hóhér is nearly always mentioned in fairy tales in
connection with the priest, who was generally accompanied by him: but he
does not think the word has any special significance in Folk-Lore.
_Page 5._ "Vasfogu Bába." Bába, in Magyar, as in Japanese, means a
midwife: in Slavonic, an old woman. See Ralston's _Russian Folk Tales_:
note, p. 137. "The French are coming." This must be unique. The usual
exclamations are, "The Turks are coming," or "The Tartars are coming."
The nurse will frighten a naughty child with Turks or Tartars. For the
heroic deeds of a popular hero against the French, cf. "_Le Chevalier
Jean_, Conte Magyar, par Alex. Petoefi ...traduit par A. Dozon." Paris.
18º.
The present story is one of a host wherein the gratitude of beasts is
compared with the ingratitude of man; and is a more perfect version of
the well-known Puss in Boots. Cf. Schiefner, _Avar Tales_. There is a
variant, "Madon linna" ("The Snake's Castle"), collected in Russian
Karelia, where the hero is the only son of an old couple, the mother
when dying tells her son not to be downhearted, as he still has his
father to help him; soon after the father fell sick. "What shall I do,
dear father, when you die?" asked the lad. "Go to the forest," replied
the father, "and there you will find three traps, bring home alive
whatever you find." Soon the father died, and the lad was left alone in
his sorrow; after many days he suddenly remembered what his father had
said, and set off to the forest, where he found the traps. In the first
and second there was nothing, but in the third was a brown fox, which he
brought home alive, thinking to himself, "There's not much to be got out
of this beast; I shall soon die of hunger." When he got home, he put the
fox on a bench and sat down, when, lo! the fox said, "Look here, Jussi
Juholainen, wouldn't you like to get married?" The lad replied, "Why
should I marry, poor fox? I couldn't live with a poor woman, and a rich
one wouldn't have me." "Marry one of the royal family, and then you'll
be rich." The lad said that it was all nonsense; but the fox declared he
could do it, and then the story goes on very much like Prince Csihan,
shewing the king how rich the suitor for his daughter's hand was, and
frightening the dependents of the snake into declaring that they
belonged to Jussi Juholainen. At last they reach the snake's castle,
"the like of which is not in the whole country, nay, not in the wide
world. An oak was growing by the wayside, and a holly tree in the
courtyard, all the leaves were golden coloured, and golden feathered
birds sang among the branches; and in the park was a magnificent elk
with gold and silver hairs."
The fox frightens the snake by telling of the coming of a great king,
saying, "O poor snake, the king is coming to destroy your house, and
kill you." The snake at once hurried off to the store-house[1] where the
linen was kept, and hid there, and in due course was burnt up with the
stores, by the fox, who set fire to the whole. The king was "giddy" with
delight at his son-in-law's wealth, and stayed many days. When he
prepared to return home, the fox proposed that Jussi Juholainen and his
man should now visit the king, much to the king's chagrin, who tried to
make excuses; but as this failed, calves and dog-like creatures, and so
forth, were made to jump about the wayside, and in the courtyard, so as
to be something like the palace of his son-in-law. But all failed; and
the fox, having shown how much greater and wealthier a man Jussi
Juholainen was, disappeared. See _Suomen Kansan Satuja ja Tarinoita_.
Part ii. Helsingissä, 1873:[2] where, under head "Kettu kosiomiehenä"
(the fox as wooer for some one), page 36, another variant (Kehnon koti),
"the Evil One's home," is given.
In the Karelian story, "Awaimetoin Wakka" (the Keyless Chest), _S. ja
T._ i. p. 151, a lad, when walking in the wood one day, heard his dog
barking, and saw that it was a wood-grouse it had found. He drew his bow
and was about to shoot when the bird begged him not to do so, and
promised to reward him. The lad kept the bird for three years, and at
the end of each year a feather fell from the bird's tail, first a copper
one, then a silver one, and lastly a gold one; which feathers in the end
brought wealth and greatness.
In the Finnish story of "the Golden Bird," a story very much like
"Cinder Jack" (in this collection), p. 149, a wolf brings fortune and
power to the hero because he fed her and her young ones.
In another Finnish story, "Oriiksi muutettu poika" (The Enchanted
Steed), in _Suomalaisia Kansansatuja_, i. (Helsingissä, 1881), a fox
assists the fugitives to defeat the devil, who pursues them. This tale
is very much like the latter part of "Handsome Paul," p. 33. Compare
also a variant from near Wiborg in _Tidskriften Suomi_, ii. 13, p. 120.
In a Lapp story a little bird helps. See "Jætten og Veslegutten," from
Hammerfest. _Lappiske Eventyr og Folkesagn ved. Prof. Friis,
Christiania_, 1871,[3] p. 52, &c.
It is a cat in "Jætten, Katten og Gutten," from Alten, _Friis_, 63; and
a fox in "Bondesønnen, Kongesønnen og Solens Søster," from Tanen,
_Friis_, 140.
Mr. Quigstad reports another variant from Lyngen, in which also a cat
helps the hero.
See also Steere's _Swahili Tales_: "Sultan Darai"; Dasent's _Tales from
the Norse_: "Lord Peter," and "Well done, and ill-paid."
_Old Deccan Days_: "The Brahman." "The Tiger and the Six Judges."
Mitford's _Tales of Old Japan_: "The Grateful Foxes." "The Adventures of
little Peachling"; and a Bohemian story of the Dog and the Yellow-hammer
in Vernaleken's _In the Land of Marvels_.
Ralston's _Puss in Boots_ in _XIXth Century, January_, 1883. A most
interesting and exhaustive article.
Ralston's _Russian Folk Tales_: "The water King and Vasilissa the Wise."
A story which in the beginning is very like "The Keyless Chest."
Benfey's _Pantschatantra_, i. 208, and _passim_.
Kletke, _Märchensaal aller Völker_: "Gagliuso."
Perrault, _Contes des Fées_: "Le maitre chat."
Hyltén-Cavallius and Stephens. _Svenska Folksagor_, i. _Stockholm_,
1844: "Slottet som stod på Guldstolpar."
Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, vol. i. 193; vol. ii. 134, 157.
Grimm's _Household Tales_, Bohn's ed. vol. i. "the Golden Bird," p. 227;
vol. ii. pp. 46, 154, 323, 427, 527.
_Mentone Stories_, in the _Folk-Lore Record_, vol. iii. part 1, 43.
Denton's _Serbian Folk-Lore_, 51, 296.
Naake's _Slavonic Tales_: "Golden Hair," p. 133, a Bohemian Tale.
Stokes's _Indian Fairy Tales_: "The Demon and the King's Son," 180.
Payne's _The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night_, "Abou
Mohammed," vol. iv. p. 10.[4]
STEPHEN THE MURDERER. Kriza, xviii.
The Hungarians have had a Dr. Faust in the person of Professor Hatvani,
but in his case he got the best of the bargain; see _A Magyar Fauszt_,
by Maurus Jókai. The Hungarian professor is an historical personage, and
only resembles Dr. Faust in having a compact with the devil.
Lad. Arany traces a resemblance between this tale and one in Benfey's
_Pantschatantra_, where it is related how a poor Brahmin, in reward for
his long penitence, has his bones thrown into the sacred waters of the
Ganges.
There is a curious Finnish story which resembles this tale,
"Ennustukset" (Predictions), from Ilomantsi in _S. ja T._ ii. 64-72. Two
wise men (seers) were out walking, and came near a house where a ewe was
just in the throes of parturition. The younger man wished the elder (and
chief) to help it. "Why should I?" replied he, "a wolf will eat the
lamb." "It is very sad; but still we ought to help the poor sheep." In a
moment the lamb was born. Just then the cries of the mistress of the
house were heard, for she was in travail. The young man again begged his
companion to use his power. "Well! I will help her," said the old seer;
"but would it be kind, for the boy, when born, will murder his father?"
He gave his assistance, and in a moment the child was born. The master
of the house, however, had overheard the conversation, and told it to
his wife, who was horrified at the news. Upon talking it over, they
decided to let the lamb and child live, as the men's words were most
likely of no importance. In the autumn, at the feast of Keyri (the
cattle-god), the lamb was slain and made into Keyri soup, according to
the old custom. The broth was put on the table, and the meat in the
window to cool;[5] and the couple laughed at the words of the men. After
the broth was finished they went for the meat, and lo! it was all
scattered on the ground, and a wolf was devouring the last pieces at its
leisure.
They were terrified, and cried, "Well, then! the men's words were true."
The man then snatched the child out of its cradle, and was about to cut
its throat, when the woman cried, "Do not kill our own child! Let us
fasten it on a plank, and put it to sea, so that it may die in that
way." And so they did. Tossed by wind and waves, the child chanced to
come to the shore near a monastery, where a peasant found him and took
him to the abbot, who brought him up. When he had grown up, he got tired
of living there, and was sent to the mainland. He wandered on and on
till he came to a house. The mistress only was in, the master being in
the wood. Here the lad was engaged to go and look after the turnips, as
some thieves had been stealing them; and the mistress gave him a bow and
arrows, with strict orders to shoot any one who came. This just suited
the lad, who went and hid himself behind a large stone in the middle of
the field. Before long a man came over the fence and filled his arms
with turnips. The lad drew his bow and shot, and the man fell. The lad
returned home, and told what he had done; and the mistress said that she
was glad that the thief had perished. They then waited for the master's
return, but as he did not come, they went to look for him, and found
that the lad had killed him. The lad stayed with the woman, and after a
time married her, and all went well till one day they went to the
bath[6] together; then she saw a red stripe on the man's chest, and
asked, "What is this?" "I don't know," replied he, "I've had it ever
since I was born." "Where were you born?" asked the woman. He then told
her all he knew; and, to their horror, i they found out they were mother
and son. The man at once set off to the wise men, to know what to do,
and how to be forgiven. On the way he met a monk, with a book under his
arm, and said, "I've killed my father, and married my mother! How can I
be forgiven?" The monk looked through his book and said, "Poor man! your
sins can never be forgiven; they are too awful." The man could not
contain himself when he heard this, and struck the monk such a blow that
he died.
He then went on and met an older monk and told him all. He looked
through his book and said "There is no forgiveness." He then killed this
monk also. Going on he met a third monk with books under his arms, and
cried, "I've killed my father, and married my mother, and murdered two
old men who said there was no forgiveness. What do you think?" The old
man looked through his books, thought a little, and said, "There is no
crime so great but that it can be forgiven when man truly repents. You
must go to a rock and dig a well in it. Wait till the water rises. And
your mother must sit beside it with a black sheep in her arms until its
wool becomes white." When the man heard this he thanked the monk, and
returned and told his mother all. So they went to a rock, and the man
began to dig with a chisel; and the woman sat beside him with the sheep
in her arms. He worked for a long time, but with no success. Now the
rock was close to the road, and good and bad passed by. One day a
gentleman drove past gaily, the horse-bells tinkling as he went; he
asked the man what he was doing, and was told all. "Who and what are
you?" said the man. "O! I am a very clever man," replied the other. "I
can make wrong right, and right wrong. I am going to the assizes, where
I will help you if you pay me." This enraged the man, because he had to
work so hard, whilst the other lived by trickery. Whilst he grumbled his
old anger flared up, and he struck the gentleman in the forehead with
his chisel and killed him. In a moment the rock opened and there was a
well, and the black sheep became white. This they were exceedingly glad
to see, but the man did not know what to do about killing the gentleman.
So he went to the old monk again and told him all. "Well!" said the
monk, "that's better. He has sinned much more against God than you;
therefore your time of repentance has been shortened. Go in peace." Thus
the sinners escaped judgment and continued to live together in peace.
The one as mother, the other as son. So much for that! (The ordinary
ending of Finnish tales.)
Another Finnish story, "Antti Puuhaara" (Andrew Tree Twig), _S. ja. T._
ii. 100, begins much in the same way, only in that case the child is to
be heir of a rich merchant who happened to be in the house at the time
and overheard all. He does his best to prevent the prediction coming
true; which, however, spite of all, is fulfilled. Cf. _Magyarische
Sagen_ von Mailáth. "Die Brüder." Also "_Die Thaten des Bogda Gesser
Châns_," _eine ostasiatische Heldensage aus dem mongolischen übersetzt
von J. J. Schmidt_, _Petersburg_ 1839. And _Folk-lifvet i Skytts härad i
Skåne wid början af detta århundrade, Barndomsminnen utgifna af
Nicolovius_, _Lund_. 1847. "Rike Pehr Krämare." Also _Dasent_, "Rich
Peter the Pedlar"; _Grimm_, "The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs"; and
_Sagas from the Far East_, in which the king fears when he hears the
hermit's prophecy of his son's future, p. 268.
The bed that the devils so much dreaded occurs in the Polish tale,
"Madey," Naake's _Slavonic Tales_, p. 220. A merchant being lost in a
wood promises an evil spirit that he will give him something that he had
not seen in his house if he will set him in the right road. This
something turns out to be a son born in the merchant's absence. When the
boy grows up he sets out to get the bond from the devil that his father
gave when lost in the wood. As the lad goes on his journey he comes to
the hut of a robber of the name of Madey. He had murdered his father,
and only spared his mother to prepare his food. Here, as in the Magyar
story, the lad is spared on condition that he finds out what sort of bed
is prepared for the robber in hell. The lad enters hell by means of holy
water and incense, and the lame demon Twardowski[7] is threatened with
Madey's bed if he does not give up the bond, which he is loth to do.
This at once produces the desired effect, and Madey was so horrified at
the lad's account of the bed that he struck his murderous club into the
ground, and vowed he would wait till the lad returned as a bishop. Years
afterwards, when the little boy had become a bishop, he found a
beautiful apple tree and an old man kneeling at its foot. The tree was
the robber's club, the old man Madey. As Madey makes his confession
apple after apple becomes a dove and flies heavenward, till at last he
confesses his father's murder, and then the last disappears; and, as the
bishop pronounces the absolution, Madey crumbles to dust.
See, also, _Svenska Folksägner_, _af H. Hofberg_, _Stockholm_, 1882, p.
48. "Ebbe Skammelsson was a knight who was engaged to the beauteous
Malfrid of Tiraholm. As they both were yet young, the knight set out for
the Holy Land, promising to return in seven years. Soon after Ebbe's
departure Malfrid's father died, and the maid remained with her mother.
Years rolled on, but Ebbe did not return; and as the maid began to fade
away, her mother promised her to another, thinking Ebbe must be dead.
There was a splendid wedding; and just as the guests sat down to the
table, a knight in golden armour galloped up to the house. The bride
turned pale beneath her crown, and the mother, who recognised Ebbe,
rushed out and reminded him that the seven years were past, and he was
too late. In wild rage he struck off the lady's head; and then, dashing
into the wedding hall, slew the bride and bridegroom. Filled with horror
and remorse at his own deeds, he vaulted on to his horse, and rode into
the wild woods. There he roamed in agony and despair. The pope's
indulgence was obtained at the holy father's feet, but not peace; so,
returning to the home of his old love, he begged the judge to sentence
him to the severest punishment. After long deliberation the council
determined that he should be loaded with the heaviest irons, and should
pass a day and a night on each of the three hundred and sixty-five
islands in Bolmen. This was carried out; and in his little boat he
dragged himself from isle to isle. At length he reached the last, and
crawled into a barn. His sad fate had made a deep impression on the
people, and a minstrel wrote a song, which, a witch said, so soon as
Ebbe heard, his irons would fall off and he would die. As he lay in the
barn, a servant, who went to milk the cows, began to sing, 'Knight
Ebbe's Song.' He listened with breathless attention, and then cried out:
'One part is true, one part is false.' The girl fled in terror. Soon the
villagers gathered round to know who he was. He dragged himself to the
hill, and, telling who he was, begged to be taken to the churchyard.
Now, between the village of Angelstad and the church there is a large
stone: mounting this, Ebbe cried, 'Am I worthy to rest in consecrated
ground? If so, let it be....' At that moment the irons dropped off, and
he died. The people buried him in the path, outside the north wall of
the church; but the wall fell down each night, until it was so built as
to include the outlaw's grave. The crosses on the roof of the parish
church are said to be made of Ebbe's fetters, which for a long time hung
inside the sacred building." Cf. J. Allvin, _Beskrifning öfver Vestbo
härad_, p. 147. The same story, with some slight difference, is current
in Halland.[8] A comparison between this and the wild Finnish story is
not without interest, as shewing the humanising influence which has
toned down the rude and rugged teaching of the early ages.
Cf. Campbell, _Tales of the Western Highlands_, p. 19: "The
Inheritance."
Baring Gould, _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_. "The Mountain of
Venus," p. 213.
_Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 366. "The Three Green Twigs."
Merényi, _Tales from the Banks of the Danube_, vol. ii. p. 7, in
Hungarian.
There is an interesting Lapp variant, "Fattiggutten, Fanden og
Guldbyen." _Friis_, p. 161.
THE LAMB WITH THE GOLDEN FLEECE. Kriza, ix.
Cf. _Round the Yule Log._ "Hans, who made the Princess laugh," p. 269.
_Grimm_, vol. ii. "The Jew among the Thorns," p. 97 and Notes, p. 410,
in which the Jew is compelled to dance to the sound of the fiddler.
Engel's _Musical Myths_, vol. ii. "The Indefatigable Fiddler," p. 29,
and the "Ratcatcher of Hamelin," p. 37. (Also, _Baring Gould's Curious
Myths_, p. 417.)
_Griechische und Albanische Märchen, von J. G. von Hahn, Leipzig_, 1864,
vol. i. p. 222, and vol. ii. p. 240.--_Ladislaus Arany._ "The Sad
Princess" (in Hungarian).--_Gaal_, vol. iii. "The Powerful Whistle."
FISHER JOE. Kriza, xvi.
_Page 16. Grimm_, vol. i, "The Gold Children," p. 331, where a man draws
a gold fish out of the water, which tells him if he will throw it back
into the water he shall have a splendid castle. He throws it back, and
all comes as the fish said. The fisher must not reveal how it has come
about; but his wife's curiosity makes him break his word, and all
disappears.[9] The man catches the fish once more, and the same things
happen, wealth and destitution; and then the fish is caught a third
time. This time the fish is cut into six pieces, two of which are put in
the ground, and grow up as golden cities; two are given to the man's
horse, which has two golden foals; and two to the man's wife, who bears
two golden children. See _Grimm's_ notes, p. 453. _Gubernatis_, vol. i.
p. 249 (as to Phallic Significance), and vol. ii. sub. art. "Fish," p.
330. Also Caballero's (Spanish) _Fairy Tales_, "The Bird of Truth," p.
1, and the "Knights of the Fish," p. 29, where a poor cobbler, with no
work, goes a-fishing as a last resource, catches a fish, and cuts it
into six, with the same result as in the above tale. And _Portuguese
Folk-Tales, Folk-Lore Society_, 1882; "The Baker's Idle Son," p. 72;
Payne's _Arabian Nights_, vol. i. pp. 33-51.
Just as Fisher Joe lays his head on his wife's knee, and sleeps while
wonders happen, so does the drummer rest, while the maiden does his
tasks for him, in the story of the "Drummer," in _Grimm_, ii. 335.
Cf. also Dasent's _Tales from the Norse_. "The Mastermaid," p. 84, and
Denton's _Serbian Folk-Lore_. "The Golden Fleeced Ram," p. 71.
_Page 18._ The trouble that comes from the king (or lord) seeing the
hero's wife, or bride, is a common incident in Folk-Tales.
See the Finnish "Leppäpölkky" (Alder Block). _S. ja T._ ii. p. 2, where
the hero, after infinite trouble, secures the lovely Katherine, who is
said to be so beautiful that--
"One can see her skin through her clothes,
Her flesh through her skin,
Her bones through her flesh,
Her marrow through her bones!"
When he arrived at home with his lovely prize, the king wished to know
the whole of his adventures. Now it so happened that Alder Block had
during his travels changed himself to an ermine, and had heard
Syöjätär--who was the mother of the snakes he and his comrades had
killed--tell what plans she had for destroying her children's murderer,
as in the Magyar tale of "The three Princes, the three Dragons, and the
Old Woman with the Iron Nose," p. 202 of this collection. Syöjätär
declared at the same time that whoever dared to repeat her words[10]
would be changed into a blue cross. Alder Block saved his comrades from
the snares till the last one, which took the form "of beds with feather
pillows;" and this time his companions, before he could stop them, threw
themselves down, and were caught. The king ordered him to explain why
his companions were not with him; and as Alder Block did so, he changed
into a blue cross, standing in the churchyard. The whole story is a most
interesting one, weaving in materials that are ordinarily to be found,
not in one, but in many folk tales. The end of all is, the king got the
lovely Katherine, and "took her to his castle, where they still live
to-day, and perhaps to-morrow also; and there came good sons and
beautiful daughters. I was also at the wedding. They gave me a wax
horse. The saddle was made of turnip and the whip of peas. The feast
lasted for many days; and when I came from it I came to Riettilä's corn
kiln.[11] The kiln began to burn, and I to extinguish it. In the heat my
horse began to melt, my saddle to roast, and the village's illegitimate
children to eat it up. I began to drive them away, but the dogs were set
at me; and when I began to whip them, they bit my whip to pieces. So all
my things were destroyed, and poor me fell down. Perhaps I shall never
be well again, it was so long." Compare this characteristic ending with
that of the Magyar tales.
In the Finnish "Ei-niin-mitä" (Just nothing), _S. ja T._ ii. 53, a man
catches a swan-maiden of great beauty. The king, so soon as he hears of
her, determines to have her for his son, and the courtiers advise him to
make the man procure--1st, "A table, on which is painted the moon and
stars;" this his wife gets her husband while he is asleep; 2nd, "he was
to go nowhere and fetch nothing." His wife again helps him, by sending
him to a house where an old woman summons all her servants (Cf. "Fairy
Elizabeth," p. 106). This time it is a frog who takes the man, and he at
length comes to a palace; and as he paces the floor at night, he mutters
to himself, "Just nothing." "Beg your pardon," says a voice; and he
finds that he has an invisible companion, who obeys all his commands,
and answers to the name of "Just Nothing." When he returns to the king,
he finds they are just celebrating the wedding of the king's son with
his own wife, who does not recognise him till he drops a ring into the
empty goblet out of which he has drunk the corn brandy the bride had
given him. By his new powers he soon upsets the bad king and his host,
and then all is joy and happiness. Cf. _Musaeus_, _Volksmärchen der
Deutschen von J. L. Klee_. _Leipzig_, 1842. "Der geraubte Schleier";
_Walachische Märchen von A. und A. Schott_. _Stuttgart_, 1845. "Der
verstossene Sohn." Weil, _Tausend und eine Nacht_, vol. iv. "Geschichte
des Prinzen Ojanschach;" _Irische Elfenmärchen, von Grimm_. _Leipzig_,
1826. "Die Flasche."
Kletke, _Märchensaal aller Völker, für Jung und Alt_. _Berlin_ 1845,
vol. iii. "Der Wundermann."
Cf. "Bondesønnen, Kongesønnen og Solens Søster," _Friis_, p. 140; where
the hero, by means of a fox, rescues the Sun's sister's sister, "Evening
Red," from the giants who had stolen her, and who were turned into
pillars of stone as soon as they caught sight of the Sun's sister, Dawn.
So soon as the king heard of her, he determined to have her for his
son's wife, and set heavy tasks for the hero to perform, which he does
by means of his wife's power.
In another tale from Tanen, "Bæive Kongens eller Sol Kongens Datter,"
_Friis_, p. 152, the hero will insist upon the king knowing that he is
going home with the Sun King's daughter, whom he has caught by stealing
her swan dress, and so gets into trouble, as the king does all he can to
get possession of the girl.
In "Gutten, som tjente hos Kongen," _Friis_, p. 167, from Tanen, the
hero is to have the king's daughter in return for faithful service but
at the last moment the king demands certain labours before he will allow
the marriage to take place. In this case it is the Gieddegæs̃ old
woman, that is, a wise or troll woman, who helps the hero.
A magic ship that can sail over land and sea is a favourite in Lapp
stories, and is often one of the tasks set. Cf. "Ruobba[12] Jætten og
Fanden," _Friis_, p. 67. Here the third son feeds axes, augurs, planes,
and all sorts of tools,[13] which come and beg for food, and by their
means builds the ship. See Finnish "Maan, meren, kulkija laiwa" ("The
Ship that can Sail on Land and Sea"), from Ilomantsi. _S. ja T._ ii. p.
22.
Somewhat similar incidents occur in the tale "Seppo Ilmarisen kosinta"
("Smith Ilmarinen's Courtship"). _S. ja T._ i. p. 1, wherein Ilmarinen
goes to woo fair Katherine, the Hiihto king's daughter. The first task
was to plough the king's snake-field--where the snakes were crawling
two yards deep--in bare feet and bare skin. Then he sang a lake full of
fishes into the courtyard. Next he went to bring a chest which had been
covered for a long time, and which the old man, Untamoinen, had. When
Ilmarinen asked for the beautiful Katherine's wedding chest the old man
replied, "If you can stand on my tongue, jump and dance, then I will
give it to you." The smith jumped on to his tongue, but the old man's
mouth was so wide he swallowed Ilmarinen. The smith did not mind that;
he made a smithy of his shirt, bellows of his trousers, used his left
knee for an anvil, and his left hand for tongs. Of the copper buckle of
his skirt he made a bird with claws of iron and bill of steel. He then
sang a song and the bird became alive, and by its means he dug his way
out of Untamoinen's stomach, got the chest, and after a great many
troubles with fair Katherine at last got home.
In the latter part of the tale one is reminded of such stories as
_Household Stories from the Land of Hofer_, "St. Peter's Three Loaves,"
p. 265; _Grimm_, vol. ii., "The Rich Man and the Poor Man," p. 1, and
Notes, p. 373; Stokes's _Indian Tales_, "Rajah Harichand's Punishment,"
p. 224.
LUCK AND BLISS. Kriza, xii.
Cf. Caballero's _Spanish Tales_, "Dame Fortune and Don Money," p. 190,
and "Fortune and Misfortune," p. 147.
_Naake_, "Wisdom and Fortune," p. 243, a Bohemian tale.
THE LAZY CAT. Kriza, xi.
This tale does not call for any special remark.
HANDSOME PAUL. Kriza, i.
_Page 25_. Old men in Hungary are always addressed as "my father," or
"my elder brother," and in turn address their juniors as "my son," or
"my younger brother." Women are also addressed as "mother," "daughter,"
"elder sister," or "younger sister." Cf. the "little father," in modern
Russian; also _Reynard the Fox in South Africa_, by Dr. Bleek, "The Lion
who took a Woman's Shape," p. 50, where the lion calls a woman "my
mother" and "my aunt," and she calls him "my uncle."
Fisk, _Myths and Myth-Makers_, pp. 166, 167, Zulu Uthlakanyana meets a
cannibal, whom he calls "uncle," and is called "child of my sister." The
Yakuts in Siberia call the bear "beloved uncle."
Tylor's _Primitive Culture_, vol. ii. p. 231.
Tylor's _Early History of Mankind_. pp. 130-49; 288-91.
Ibn Batuta, the Moorish traveller, mentions that in his time--about
1347--old men in Cansai, the modern Hangchenfu, were commonly addressed
as "Atha," _i. e._ "Father" in Turkish. Cf. _The Travels of Friar
Odoric_ (Hakluyt Soc.), iv. p. 288.
_Vide_ Giants in the Introduction to this collection.
The incident of finding the giant occurs in many stories, _e.g._ a
Finnish tale relates how some sailors sailing along the coast near
Wiborg saw a fire lighted on the shore, and, as they were nearly frozen,
landed, and found to their horror a giant laid round it with his feet
under his head (cf. Giant in "Fairy Elizabeth," p. 99 of this vol.) The
giant awakes and asks where they are from, and hearing that they were
from Wiborg, tells them he knows it well, and drinks with great gusto a
tun of tar, remarking, "Ah! that's the old Wiborg drink!" Topelius,
_Boken om vårt Land. Helsingfors_, 1875, p. 153.
See also a similar tale, "Glosheds Altare," from Bohuslän, _Hofberg_, p.
81. It is commonly reported in Bohuslän and Dal that the giants withdrew
to Dovre in Norway, or else to some uninhabited island in the North Sea,
and that they most anxiously inquired of any travellers they came across
how things were going on in their native land. They are said to have
left their homes "when modern mankind began to exist," in the Swedish
stories. They often declare it was on account of the continued ringing
that they left the land.
In "Ulfgrytstenarna," from Närike, the giant hearing the bells for the
first time tells his wife to put a stone in her garter and sling it at
the grey cow which is tinkling near Hjelmar, meaning the newly-built
church at Örebro. The giantess threw the stone thirteen miles too far.
The giant threw and missed, and the bells sounded with wondrous
clearness. The giant then seized two enormous rocks, and set off to
crush the church; on the way an old man who had set out to stop him,
showed him a pile of shoes worn out by his journey from Örebro. The
giant threw the rocks down and went home. _Hofberg_, p. 132.
See also the story about the old man and Ragnar Lodbrok, who is said to
have delivered Rome from the Norse men, by showing their worn-out iron
shoes. Also Gibeonites and Joshua; Joshua, ix. 5.
Giants sometimes built instead of destroying religious houses. See
_Afzelius, Svenska Folkets Sagohäfder_, v. p. 31, where the giant Rise
is said to have built Riseberg Monastery and given it his own name; also
"Skaluda-Jätten," a story from Vestergötland.
For a giant's appetite, _p. 26_, see "Vas Péter," a tale quoted by
Kozma, in which Glutton eats 366 fat oxen in six hours, and Drunkard
empties 366 casks of wine, each holding one hundred buckets, in the same
time.
Big Mouth, in "Hidatsa," an Indian tale, drinks enormous draughts.
_Folk-Lore Record_, vol. i. p. 140.
The horse in "Prince Mirkó," p. 65, like the giant in this tale, asks
the hero what he sees, and then tells him to shut his eyes, whilst they
go on.
_Page 27_. The king's daughter falling in love with one who acts as
servant is a common incident in Finnish and Lapp tales. Generally, the
hero is one who by wearing a cap on the pretext of having a sore head
conceals his beauty, which the king's daughter by chance happens to see
when the cap is off.
Cf. "Tuhkamo" from Sodan Kyla in North Finland, _S. ja T._ i. p. 35,
where the hero is told to fell all the trees near a bay, and is assisted
by his bride. The whip as a mode of summoning assistance is mentioned in
"Fisher Joe," _supra_, p. 16.
For difficult tasks vide "Fisher Joe," _supra_, p. 18; "The Three
Brothers," p. 153; "The King and the Devil," p. 192; "The Widower and
his Daughter," p. 208; "The Girl with the Golden Hair," p. 271.
Cf. also _Malagasy Isùlakòlona_, in _Folk-Lore Journal_, 1884, p. 130.
Also _Verhandlungen der gelehrten Estnischen Gesellschaft zu Dorpat.
Zweiter Band, drittes Heft_, p. 76. "Der dankbare Fürstensohn."
Stier, _Ungarische Märchen_, "Das kleine Zauberpferd."--Kletke,
_Märchensaal aller Völker_, "Die gläserne Hacke"; "Kojata"; "Der
Orangenbaum und die Biene."
_Polnische Volksagen und Märchen_, by Woycicki, translated by Levestam,
"Die Flucht."
Hyltén-Cavallius och Steffens. _Svenska Folksagor_. "Hafs-Firum."
_Samlade Smärre Berättelser_, af C. F. Ridderstad, _Linköping_, 1849.
"Agnete lille Dei."
Winter, _Danske Folkeventyr_: "Prindsen och Havmanden."
The reader need not be surprised to hear that the simple Magyar peasant
uses classical names like Pluto, Furuzsina (Euphrosiné); for until 1848
Latin was the official language, and many of the scientific works were
written in it, and so a great many words found their way into the vulgar
tongue, such as: penna, calamus, bugyelláris (pugillares), jus, &c.
_Page 32_. The chase after the fugitives is a well-known folk-tale
incident. See several instances in this collection. Generally the
pursuer is stopped by something thrown down by the pursued. See "The
Little Magic Pony," p. 160, and notes _infra_.
In other stories such as the present and "The King and the Devil," p.
193, the pursued change into all manner of wonderful things. Cf.
_Grimm_, vol. i. "Fundevogel," p. 202, and "The Two King's Children,"
vol. ii. p. 113.
In a Portuguese Folk-Tale, "The Daughter of the Witch," F.L.S. 1882, p.
15, the boy becomes a public road, and the girl an old man with a sack
on his back; then the boy becomes a hermitage and the girl a hermit; and
lastly, when the mother comes, who, as usual, is the keenest witted, the
lad becomes a river, and the girl an eel. The mother, as she cannot
catch the eel, pronounces the curse of forgetfulness in case any one
should kiss the hero, which one of his sisters does, while he sleeps.
See also in the same collection, "May you vanish like the wind," p. 20.
In "Fairy Helena," a story quoted by Kozma in his paper read before the
Hungarian Academy, the fairy's father blows across a wide river, and at
once it is spanned by a golden bridge. The fairy then strikes a rusty
table-fork with a _kourbash_, and it at once becomes a golden steed,
upon which the lovers flee into Italy. When they discover that they are
followed, Helena spits on the floor, the door-latch, and the hinge of
the door, and each expectoration speaks, and so deludes the king's
messengers, and allows the fugitives more time (Cf. Ralston's _Russian
Tales_, p. 142; _Grimm_, i.: "Sweetheart Roland," p. 225, where one
change of Roland is to a fiddler, who makes the witch dance till dead.)
The king following in the form of a gigantic eagle, the tips of whose
wings touch heaven and earth, reminds of such stories as the Lapp
"Jaetten og Veslegutten," from Hammerfest, _Friis_. p. 49, where the
giant is heard coming like a gust of wind; and in "Jaetten og Drengen
hans," from Tanen, _id_. p. 58, where the giant and his wife pursue the
lad, as he walks away, with his bag of silver coins.
See also Finnish "Oriiksi muntettu poika," _S. ja. T._ i. 142, and
variants there given, in which the devil follows in the form of a
storm-cloud.
Wonderful transformations of a like sort occur in Indian stories,
_e.g._, "The Phúlmati Rání's arms and legs grew into four houses, her
chest became a tank, and her head a house in the middle of the tank; her
eyes turned into two little doves; and these five houses, the tank, and
the doves, were transported to the jungle. The little doves lived in the
house that stood in the middle of the tank. The other houses stood round
the tank." Stokes' _Indian Tales_, "Phúlmati Rání," p. 5, and "The Bél
Princess," p. 148, where we read, "Then the girl took a knife in her own
hand, and cut out her two eyes; and one eye became a parrot, and the
other a _mainá_ (a kind of starling). Then she cut out her heart, and it
became a great tank. Her body became a splendid palace and garden; her
arms and legs became the pillars that supported the verandah roof; and
her head the dome on the top of the palace."
_Page 34_. For the curse of oblivion see Panch-Phul Ranee, _Old Deccan
Days_, p. 143, where the conjurors throw some powder in the rice and
fire, and no sooner did the rajah receive them than he forgot his wife,
child, and all that had ever happened to him. In "Chandra's Vengeance,"
p. 260, forgetfulness is brought about by enchanted drink. Cf. _Grimm_,
ii. "The Drummer," p. 338.
In the romance of _Ogier le Danois_, Morgue la Faye, who had kissed
Ogier at his birth, but had been forgotten by him, meets him when he is
a hundred years old, and by means of a ring restores him to youth and
beauty. When Ogier drew near to the castle of Avalon he was met by
singing fays, and a glorious crown placed on his head, whereupon he
instantly forgot all the past, and had no thought "ni de la dame
Clarice, qui tant estoit belle et noble ... ne de creature vivante." See
Keightley's _Fairy Mythology, Bohn's Library_, p. 48.
The Irish tale of "Grey Norris" from Warland, tells how a little dog
jumps up and kisses the hero, and at once he forgets the poor princess
who waits outside. _Folk-Lore Journal_, 1883, p. 323.
The Polish tale "Prince Unexpected," contains a similar incident. _Id_.
1884, p. 16.
THE TRAVELS OF TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. Kriza, ii.
In another version three crows discuss the healing powers of the dew.
Cf. also another version communicated by Kriza in the _Szépirodalmi
Figyelö_. The tale is also found in Hungary Proper. Cf. Gaal, _Märchen
der Magyaren_, "Die dankbaren Thiere."
Cf. Cruelty of sister or others: in "Envious Sisters," p. 50, "The Three
Brothers," p. 152, and "The Girl without Hands," p. 182.
Steere's _Swahili Tales_, "Blessing or Property," p. 397.
Also Wagner's _Asgard and the Gods_, p. 113, where Holda's Quick-born
(fountain of life) restores the crippled and aged. Spanish peasants
believe in a mysterious herb, _pito-real_, invisible to men, and known
to swallows only, which restores eyesight. See _Folk-Lore Record_, p.
295. 1883.
_Page 37_. Obtaining useful knowledge in secret. Cf. _Sagas from Far
East_, xiv. "The Avaricious Brother," p. 151, in which the poor brother
obtained precious gifts, which he saw the Dakinis (female genii) use;
the rich brother when he heard of it went to see what he could get, and
was seized by the enraged spirits, and after due consultation punished,
by having his nose pulled out five ells long, and nine knots tied in it.
In _Old Deccan Days_, "The Learned Owl," p. 74, tells how the birds in
the tree tell secrets. In "The Wanderings of Vicram Maharajah," p. 121,
it is two cobras, and in "Panch-Phul Ranee," p. 139, two jackals.
See also _Stories from Mentone_, "The Charcoal Burners," p. 41.
_Folk-Lore Record_, vol. iii.; and Stokes' _Indian Tales_, "The Fair
Prince," p. 198.
Cf. Finnish "Totuus ja walhe" (Truth and falsehood), and "Riuta ja
Rauta;" under section 10 of _S. ja T._ ii. pp. 134-146, entitled "Paha
on pettäjän perintö" (The Deceiver's part is a bad one).
_Magyarische Sagen_, by Mailáth, i. "Die Brüder," p. 169.
Gerle, _Volksmärchen der Böhmen_. _Prag._ 1819. "St. Walburgisnachttraum
oder die drei Gesellen."
_Volkslieder und Sagen der Wenden_, von Haupt und Schmaler, _Grimma_
1843. "Recht bleibt immer Recht."
_Old Deccan Days_, "Truth's Triumph," p. 50.
_Serbian Folk-Lore:_ "Justice or Injustice--which is best?" p. 83. Where
the heroes are king's sons, and the just one is helped by fairies who
come to the spring to bathe.
In "The two Travellers," _Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 81, the heroes are a
sour-tempered shoemaker and a merry tailor. Two sinners hanging on the
gallows talk, and thus the sightless tailor learns many secrets. So soon
as he recovers his sight, he sets off, and arrives at the very town
where the shoemaker has gone, who persuades the king to set the tailor
terrible tasks to perform, which he does, by the aid of grateful
animals, whose lives he spared. The cobbler has his eyes picked out by
the crows that sit on the heads of the two hanged men. See notes, p.
408, and a fragmentary story of "The Men on the Gallows," p. 466, in the
same volume.
In Naake's _Slavonic Tales_, "Right and Wrong," from the Servian, the
Vilas, beings peculiar to Servia, female genii, come to the spring where
the blind brother is, and talk.
Also Dasent's _Tales from the Norse_, "True and Untrue," p. 1.
_Undvalgte Eventyr og Fortœllinger_ ved C. Molbech, _Kjöbenhavn_,
1843. "Godtro og utro, et Skaansk Folkesagn."
_Sagen, Märchen und Lieder der Herzogthümer Schleswig--Holstein and
Lauenburg_ vom R. Müllenhoff. _Kiel_, 1845. "Vom Bauernsohn der König
ward."
_Portuguese Stories_. "Unless the Lord build the house, they labour in
vain who build it." _Folk-Lore Record_, 1881, p. 157. The driver hears
the devils talking on the top of the cave, where he shelters, and by
means of which he obtains riches and honour. In this case, the gouging
out of the eyes is omitted, and the whole story modified, and, if one
may so say, Christianised.
THE HUNTING PRINCES. Kriza, iii.
Steel, flint, and tinder, form to this day the "Smoker's companion" in
the rural districts of Hungary, although matches were invented more than
half a century ago by a Hungarian.
_Page 39_. The youngest son in the Finnish story, "Ihmeellinen Sauwa,"
(The Wonderful Stick,) _S. ja T._ i. p. 158, is told to shoot at an oak,
and if he hits it (which he does) he would find his mother who had been
carried off one day whilst walking in the garden years before.
For other versions see "A Year Hence" in Gaal, vol. ii.; also "The Three
Princes" in the present vol. p. 110, and "The Prince who tied the Dawn"
in another collection of Erdélyi, entitled "_Magyar Népmesék_."
Dragons[14] appear at every turn in folk-lore, and therefore we can give
but a short selection of comparisons out of the countless hosts of
legends and tales. "At Lueska there is a dark cavern called the
Dragon's Den, which was the terror of the country, and its legend is an
interesting example of how old folk-tales are modified, as time rolls
on; in this case, the burghers of the town can't tell what to do, and a
little dwarf tinker declares he can kill the monster, but that he will
claim as his reward the hand of the burgomaster's daughter. The
burgomaster is mightily indignant, but is obliged to give way to the
force of popular opinion; and is surprised to find his daughter quite
willing to make the sacrifice for the sake of her neighbours. The tinker
confesses and communicates. He then sets off and gathers a herb called
dragon's bane--a powerful narcotic--and makes a strong infusion of it.
With this he sets out, driving two calves before him, and taking some of
his tools, and his fire-pan full of hot embers. The dragon soon scents
the cattle, and rushing out devours them. Meanwhile, the tinker views
all from a tree. Soon the dragon rolls over and falls asleep. The tinker
then pours a goatskin full of his infusion over the monster's head, who
falls into a deep sleep. Down comes the tinker and settles him, cuts off
his head, and carries it in triumph to the town, where the joyous crowd
carry him shoulder-high to the burgomaster's. There the tinker declares
that he will not accept the maiden's hand unless she accepts him freely
and willingly. The young girl, won by his magnanimous conduct, declares
he has won her heart. Whereat he flings off his disguise, and lo! the
lord of Csicso, who confesses that he has long loved the beautiful maid.
General happiness and joy. Curtain!" _Pictures of Hungarian Life_, p.
28.
Cf. "Grendel" in the "Lay of Beowulf"; "The Lambton Worm," in Surtees'
_History of Durham_, ii. p. 173; Hardwick's _Traditions_, p. 40, and
Henderson's _Folk-Lore of Northern Counties_, F.L.S., under "Worms."
Nork, _Mythologie der Volksagen_, says, the dragon was sacred to Wodin,
and that its image was placed over houses, &c. to keep away evil
influences.
In _Tales from Hofer's Land_, "The Three Black Dogs," p. 214, the dogs
kill the dragon, and Jössl marries the princess; in "Zovanin Senza
Paura," p. 348, fearless Johnny kills the dragon that has taken
possession of the fountains.
Baring Gould's _Curious Myths_. "St. George," and Brady's _Clavis
Calendaria_, vol. i. p. 310.
In Denton's _Serbian Folk-Lore_, "True-steel," p. 146, an alligator
replaces the dragon; the incidents are very like those in the Magyar
tale, but the tale is longer, beginning with three sisters, as well as
the brothers. The sisters are carried off, much the same as in the
Russian story "Marya-Morevna" (_Ralston_, p. 85); and, in seeking for
the sisters, the Magyar incidents come in. The story continues to tell
of the youngest son's entering the forbidden chamber, and letting loose
a man, True-steel, who was confined there (cf. Payne's _Arabian Nights_,
vol. i. p. 141, "Story of the Third Calender"), who runs away with his
wife. His labours to regain her occupy the rest of the tale. True-steel
is killed in the end, by the secret of his strength being destroyed, as
in "Punchkin."
The tying up of Midnight and Dawn is a piece of primitive science that
in one shape or other is to be found in many stories. Cf. Lapp stories,
where "Evening Red," and the "Sun's Sister" are girls; _Friis_, No. 44;
and in No. 45 Ashiepattle goes for a golden lasso, and has to go till
the sunlight ceases; and then till the moonlight ceases; and then till
starlight ceases. When he arrives in the regions of darkness he finds
the golden lasso. The tale appears to be imperfect, and no use is made
of the lasso. Guns and cannons appear beyond the land of the moonlight!
The Finnish "Leppäpölkky" tells how Alder Block goes to a castle, and is
told "that a wicked one cursed the sunlight, and so a snake with nine
heads has taken it; and when the snake goes to the sea, he takes the sun
with him. When he is in the country it is day, when he is in the sea it
is night. A wicked one has cursed the moonshine, and a snake with six
heads has taken the moonshine. When he is on the land, it is light; but
when he is in the sea, it is dark. The wicked one has also cursed the
dawn, because it began to shine too soon, and he could not sleep; so the
snake with three heads has taken the dawn. When he is on the land we
have dawn, but when he is at sea we have no dawn." The heroes in turn
destroy the snakes; and dawn, the moon, and the sun escape; and as each
shines over the land, the people pray for blessings on the man's head,
who has delivered the dawn, moon, and sun. This appears to be pretty
clearly an attempt of early man to describe natural phenomena. The story
goes on to tell how the king offered his daughters to the heroes, but
they declined them, only asking for a little corn.
There is a most interesting myth of Dawn and Twilight, well worthy of
notice, in the Esthonian "Koit ja Ämarik" (Dawn and Twilight). In old
times a mother had two daughters named Videvik (twilight) and Ämarik
(evening twilight). Both were charming and beautiful in appearance, and
in behaviour just as the song says:
"Pea valge, pôsld punased
Sitik mustad silmakulmud."
"Eyes white, cheeks red,
Eyebrows black as a dung beetle."
When the sun went to its Creator (set), the elder sister came from the
plough with two oxen, and led them, as an intelligent being ought, to
the river's brink to drink. But, just as now, beauty is the first thing
among girls, and the good-looking ones often gaze into the
looking-glass. So, also, did she, the handsome Videvik. She let her oxen
be oxen, and went to the river's edge; and lo! there on the silver
looking-glass of the water lay reflected the eyebrows black as dung
beetles, and the charming gold-coloured cheeks, and her heart was glad.
The moon, who in accord with the Creator's command and ordinance, was
going to light the land, in place of the sun, who had sunk to rest,
forgot to attend to his duty, and threw himself, like an arrow, with
loving desire into the earth's deep bosom, down to the bottom of the
river; and there, mouth to mouth, and lip to lip, he sealed his
betrothal to Videvik with a kiss, and claimed her as his bride. But,
during this he had quite forgotten his duties; and, see! deep darkness
covered the land whilst he lay on Videvik's bosom. Then occurred a sad
misfortune. The forest robber, Wolf, who now had all his own way, as no
one could see him, tore one of Videvik's oxen, which had gone to the
forest to feed, and seized it as food for himself. Although the shrill
nightingale was heard, and its clear song from the forest rang through
the darkness:
"Lazy girl! lazy girl! the long night! the striped ox!
To the furrows! to the furrows! fetch the whip! fetch the nag!
Tsät! Tsät!"
"Laisk tüdruk, laisk tüdruk, ööpik! kiriküüt!
Raule, raule, too püts, too püts!
Tsät! Tsät!"
Yet Videvik heard not: she forgot all but love. Blind, deaf, and without
understanding is love. Of the five senses but feeling is left! When
Videvik at last woke from her love, and saw the Wolf's deed, she wept
bitterly, and her tears became a sea. The innocent tears did not fall
unobserved by Vana-isa (the old father). He stepped down from his golden
heaven to punish the evil-doers, and to set a watch over those who had
broken his commands. He scolded the wicked Wolf, and the Moon received
Videvik to wife. To this day Videvik's mild face shines by the Moon's
side, longingly looking at the water where she tasted for the first time
her husband's love. Then Vana-isa said, "In order that there may be no
more carelessness about the light, and lest darkness grows in power, I
command you, guardians, go each one to your place. And you, Moon and
Videvik, take charge of the light by night. Koit and Ämarik I put
daylight into your hands. Do your duty honestly. Daughter Ämarik in your
care I place the setting sun. See that in the evening every spark be put
out, so that no accident happen, and that all men be in peace! And you
my son Koit take care when you light the new light of the new day that
every place has its light." Both the Sun's servants honestly attended to
their duty, so that he was never missing, even for a single day, from
the heavens. The short summer nights now drew near, when Koit and Ämarik
stretched hand and mouth to each other: the time when the whole world
rejoices, and the little birds make the forests ring with their songs in
their own language; when plants begin to bloom, and shoot forth in their
beauty; when Vana-isa stepped down from his golden throne to keep
Lijon's festival. He found all in order, and rejoiced greatly over his
creation, and said to Koit and Ämarik, "I am pleased with your
watchfulness, and wish you continued happiness! You may now become man
and wife." But they both replied together, "Father, perplex us not. We
are satisfied as we are, and wish to remain lovers: for in this we have
found a happiness which never grows old, but is ever young." Vana-isa
granted their wish, and returned to his golden heaven.
Cf. Castrén, _Finsk Mytologi_, p. 66, and "Kalevala," Run. 17, line 478.
The Rev. Dr. Taylor kindly points out Dr. Donner's observation in his
_Lieder der Lappen_, p. 55: "Diese Anschauung ist doch bekanntlich auch
unter den arischen Völkern vielfach verbreitet."
For the discovery of the hero by his shooting, and the rest of the
incidents of the story, cf. _Grimm_, ii. "The Skilful Huntsman," p. 103,
and notes, p. 412: and the marshal in "The Two Brothers," _Grimm_, i. p.
252. In the Lapp. _Friis_, No. 18, the Vesle boy compels the nobles who
go out shooting with him to give him the rings they had received from
the princesses they are betrothed to, before he will give them some
ptarmigan he had shot, and which they are anxious to have, as they had
been unsuccessful in their search for game; and this in order to prevent
false boasting on the part of the nobles, as we find in other variants.
Juanillo, in the Spanish tale, makes each of his brothers give him a
golden pear, and then one of their ears; and next insists upon branding
them on the shoulder, as if they were his slaves: and so in the end
proves their treacherous conduct; see _Patrañas_, "Simple Johnny," p.
38.
In "Gutten, Havfruen, og Ridder Rød," from Lyngen, _Friis_, p. 131,
Knight Red[15] acts the part of a traitor, and is shown to be so by the
hero, who exhibits part of a ring, the other part of which the princess
has, and which they broke when the lad entered the princess' tower to
fetch the king's sword, which was hidden there. The reward for bringing
it to the battle-field being the princess' hand.
See also Ritter Red in "Shortshanks," and the "Big Bird Dan," pp. 155,
443, in Dasent's _Tales from the Norse_.
In a Russian tale (_Afanassieff_, vi. 52), Ivan, by the help of his
animals, kills the twelve-headed serpent that is killing all his people,
and then goes to sleep on the princess's knees. A water-carrier passing
cuts off Ivan's head, and presents himself as the hero. The beasts
return, and find a crow upon Ivan's body, which they spare on condition
that it brings the water of life and death. (This incident occurs in the
Finnish "Golden Bird" a raven coming with its young ones to eat the
corpse.) Ivan is resuscitated, and the water-carrier punished.
_Gubernatis_, vol. i. 216. Dogs restore the dead hero to life in the
story of "John and the Amulet." _Folk-Lore Record_, 1884, p. 197. The
candle at the princesses' heads suggests the Indian stories which tell
of sticks placed at the head or feet, and whilst they are there the girl
cannot move. _Stokes_, pp. 54, 186.
THE LAZY SPINNING GIRL WHO BECAME A QUEEN. Kriza, iv.
The story of the mannikin who is clever at spinning or weaving is
widespread. Thus, in a rubric of the "Catalan" map of the world, in the
National Library at Paris, the date of which map has been fixed at A.D.
1375, we read, "Here [N.W. of Catayo] grow little men who are but five
palms in length; and though they be little, and not fit for weighty
matters, yet they be brave and _clever at weaving_, and at keeping
cattle...." (Col. Yule's translation in _Cathay, and the Way Thither_.)
A Swedish story tells how a young newly-married girl is terribly upset
by the constant calls of household work; and one morning, in despair at
the many things to be done, she shut herself in the room, and, throwing
herself on the couch, wept bitterly, saying, "Oh, unhappy me! Is there
no one to help me, or comfort a poor woman?" "I can," said a voice; and
lo! there was the old man of Hoberg, a good sprite, who had been a
friend to the family for generations.
"You bewail your slave life," said the old man, "but that comes from
your want of practice in real work. I will give you ten obedient
servants who will faithfully assist you in all your doings." Just then
he shook his coat, and ten droll little creatures sprang out, and began
to put the room in order. "Stretch forth your hands to me," said the old
man. Elsa tremblingly put out her hands to the old man, who said--
"Tummetott, Hjertehand
Slikepott, Lille Per Roligman."
Långestång,[16]
"Be quick and take your places!" In a moment the ministering spirits
disappeared into Elsa's fingers, and the old man vanished.
The young wife sat staring at her hands for a time, but soon felt a
strange desire to work.
"Here am I sitting dreaming," said she, with unwonted cheerfulness, "and
it's already seven o'clock. Everyone is waiting for me," she continued;
and, hurrying out, she began her work. From that time she was the model
housewife of the district; see _Hofberg_, p. 58. "De tio tjenstandarna,"
from Småland.[17]
Cf. the mannikin called "Panczimanczi," in Lad. Arany's "_Eredeti
Népmesék_," p. 277. His height is half an ell, his moustache two ells,
his beard three ells long. He is seen leaping merrily over a fire, and
heard singing the following: "I am Panczimanczi; no one knows my name; I
roast, I cook, I boil; the day after to-morrow I shall fetch my pretty
bride home."
In Kriza's tale his name is Dancing Vargaluska. "How the name is held to
be part of the very being of the man who bears it, so that by it his
personality may be carried away, and, so to speak, grafted elsewhere,
appears in the way in which the sorcerer uses it as a means of putting
the life of his victim into the image upon which he practises;" _e.g._
the widespread making of wax images to represent certain persons, and
then melting them, that the persons named may waste away. Magyar
peasants say, that hair combings must not be thrown away, lest the birds
get them, and build them in their nests; for whilst they are doing so,
you will have headache; and again, if a young girl wishes to compel a
young man to marry her she must steal something from the young man, and
take it to a witch, who adds to it three beans, three bulbs of garlic, a
few pieces of dry coal, and a dead frog. These are all put into an
earthenware pot, and placed under the threshold, with the words, "Lord
of the infernal regions and of the devils, and possessor of the hidden
treasure, give to N. or M. some incurable illness (or inflame him with
unquenchable love for N. or M.), and I will join you."
See also "The two Orphans," where the witch's daughter steals a lock of
the queen's hair, p. 222. Cf. the Finnish method of curing "knarr"
(German "Knirrband"), a complaint that is common at harvest-time among
those who are not used to the reaping-hook. Amongst its symptoms are
curious crackings of the wrist. The sick one asks someone who is well
"to chop his knarr" for him, which is done as follows. The patient lays
his sick hand upon a chopping block, and three pieces of three-jointed
straw are so laid, side by side, as to correspond joint for joint. The
"doctor" then takes an axe, and chops with all his strength into the
block through the first joint. "What are you chopping?" asks the sick
one. "I'm chopping the 'knarr' out of your joint into the wood." The
same question and answer is repeated after second blow; after the last
blow the chopper cries "Now he's gone!" In North Germany the ceremony is
performed on the threshold, and ends with the sign of the cross. Cf.
_Finnish Folk-Lore_ in "_Notes and Queries_," 6th S. xi. p. 23. Also,
_Suomen Muinaismuisto-Yhdistyksen Aikakauskirja_, v. p. 103.
Algerian peasants have a great objection to their portraits being taken;
and Holderness folks rub warts with stolen beef, &c., and let it rot,
saying the warts will disappear with the decaying of the meat, &c., &c.
"A similar train of thought shows itself in the belief that the
utterance of the name of a deity gives to man a means of direct
communication with the being who owns it, or even places in his hands
the supernatural power of that being, to be used at his will." Tylor's
_Early History of Mankind_, pp. 124, 129, and Lubbock's _Origin of
Civilisation_, p. 245.
Cf. Swedish "Jätten Finn och Lunds domkyrka." _Hofberg_, p. 12. The
giant promises to build a church for the white Christ if Laurentius can
find out his name, and if not he must forfeit his eyes--
"Helt visst
Är hvite krist
En gud, som sitt temple är värdig.
Jag bygger det jag, om du säger mig blott
Hvad namn jag fått,
Se'n kyrkan är murad och färdig.
Men kan du ej säga mitt namn, välan,
Du vise man!
Gif akt på hvad vite jag sätter:
Då måste du ge mig åt mina små
De facklor två,
Som vandra på himmelens slätter."[18]
Laurentius found out that the giant's name was "Finn" by hearing the
giantess hush her crying child.
Similar tales are told of many churches. _E.g._ Drontheim Cathedral,
where the giant is called "Skalle"; see Sjöborg, _Collections_, Part ii.
p. 182. Of Eskilssäter's Church, where the giant's name was "Kinn," see
Fernow, _Verml. Beskr_, i. p. 318.
Also of a church in Norrland, where St. Olaf found out the troll's name,
"Wind and Weather," see _Iduna_, vol. iii. p. 60; and about Kallundborgs
Church, in Själland, cf. Thiele, _Danske Folkesagn_, i. p. 43.
_Tales from the Land of Hofer_, "The Wild Jäger and the Baroness";
secret name, "Buzinigala," p. 110.
In the _Land of Marvels_, Vernaleken, "Winterkolble," p. 24; and
"Kruzimügeli," p. 28.
_Grimm_. vol. i. "Rumpelstiltskin," pp. 221, 412.[19]
The tale appears to be confused towards the end, the three deformed
beggars being the three aunts of the Norse; see _Dasent_, p. 222. The
ordinary story has no dwarf or secret name in it; cf. Spanish tale of
"Guardian Spirits," in _Caballero_, p. 64.
Also, _Patrañas_, "What Anna saw in the Sunbeam," p. 193.
And in _Portuguese Folk-Tales_. "The Aunts." _Folk-Lore Soc_. p. 79.
On the other hand, in the Swedish story from Upland the girl who could
spin gold from clay and long straw was helped by a dwarf whose name
turned out to be "Titteli Ture!". See Thorpe's _Yule Tales_, p. 168.
See also, _Grimm_, ii. p. 163, "The Lazy Spinner," in which the woman by
her wit contrives to evade her spinning; notes, p. 428. The Finnish
story of "The Old Woman's Loom," from Korpo, is almost identical with
Grimm's.
THE ENVIOUS SISTERS. Kriza, v.
Cf. the beginning of the tale "The Three Princesses," in the present
volume, p. 144. The tale is frequently found in Hungary, also amongst
the Germans and Servians.
For cruelty towards the best (generally the youngest), cf. pp. 36, 152,
182 in this collection; _Chaucer_ and _Boccacio_; _Grimm_, i. "The Girl
without Hands," p. 127, and Notes, p. 378. The Finnish variant tells how
there was once a brother and sister, and when the father was dying he
said to his son, "Treat your sister well." All went on comfortably until
the brother married a girl who was "the devil's wife's daughter," and
before long, owing to her slanders, the sister was turned out. The girl
then went to the king's castle, and lived there as a beggar. In the
spring the king's son went to sow his field, and said: "Who first eats
of these peas, she shall be my wife." This he said in a joke to the
others. But the girl was there, behind the fence, and she heard and
remembered it all.
Summer came--the peas were ripe. Then the girl dug a hole under the
fence, and went and ate some peas. Suddenly the king's son remembered
his pea-field, and thought, "I will go and see how the peas are getting
on." He went and saw some one had been eating them, and so he watched for
some time, and lo! a girl came cautiously through a hole and began to
eat the peas. The king's son seized her and carried her home in a sheet.
Then he dressed her in a royal dress, and made her ready to be his wife,
as a king's bride ought to be. They lived together till the king's son
made his wife pregnant, then he was obliged to go to the war, and he
said to his wife, "If you have a boy send me a letter, and I will come
back: if it is a girl, send me a letter, and I will come back when I
can." Well! the wife had a son. She sent a letter asking her husband to
come home at once, and sent a slave with it. The slave went to spend the
night in the girl's home. When he had been there a little time the
mistress said, "Would you like to sleep here?" "Yes," answered the
messenger, and began to bathe; but the devil's daughter, in the
meantime, opened his bag and changed the letter's meaning, and put "a
female child is born." The slave knew nothing of it, but set off with
the letter to the king's son. When he read it he sent the same slave
back with the answer, "I will come when I have time," and the slave
returned. On his way he came to the same house, and the mistress in the
same way sent him to the bath and opened the bag and changed the letter,
"As the child is born, the woman must put off the royal dress and put on
her own rags, and she may, with her child, go where she likes." The
slave brought the letter to the wife, who did as the letter said, and
set off begging and moaning. She began to be thirsty, and sought for
water in the wood. In a little time she found a well, where there was
wonderfully clear water and a beautiful golden ladle. She put down her
child, and went a little way from the well. When the child was alone it
stretched out to the ladle and fell head first into the well. The mother
rushed to help him and got her child out before he was drowned. Wherever
the water touched her she became much more beautiful and white. The
child also became like no other in the world. The woman set off with her
child, and at last came to her own home, where her brother was still
living with his wife. She was not recognised, and asked for a night's
lodging. The mistress shouted, "Outside the door is a good place for
you." "Very well," said the woman, and stayed there with her child all
night.
She sat there all night, and the king with his soldiers from the war
came there. As the king walked in his room, the woman let her child
crawl on the floor. It crawled to the king, who took it and said, "Who
are you, poor woman, who are so beautiful, and have so handsome a
child?" "I have been in this house before, but my sister-in-law hated
me." "Hold your noise, you blackguard," shouted the woman, and wished
to stop her. But the other went on, "My sister-in-law hated me, and
thrashed me, and drove me away almost dead. I then went to the king's
castle, and became the king's son's wife. When I was pregnant the king's
son went to war, and I sent him a letter that I had got a boy; but he
was so angry, that he ordered me and my child out; and so I had to leave
a good home." "Hold your noise!" shouted the brother's wife again. But
the king said, "I am lord here;" and the woman continued and explained
all. The brother's wife again shouted, "Hold your noise, you
good-for-nothing!" Then the king seized her by the hair, and hanged her
from the gutter, and took his wife and boy home, and they lived happily.
If they are yet alive, I don't know. "Neitonen Hernemaassa."--"The maid
in the pea-field," _S. ja T._ 1, p. 116.--Cf. "Neitonen Kuninkaan
Sadussa," ("The maid in the king's garden,") _id_. 108; "Pigen uden
Haender," in _Udwalgte Eventyr og Fortaellinger, en Laesebog for Folket
og for den barnlige Werden_, (Copenhagen, 1843). No. 48, p. 258; "The
Girl without Hands," p. 182, in this collection; and Steere's _Swahili
Tales_. "Blessing and Property," p. 403.
The Finnish tale, "Tynnyrissä kaswanut Poika," ("The boy who grew in a
barrel,") _S. ja T._ 1, 105, tells how a king's son heard the three
daughters of a peasant woman talking. The eldest said, "I would like to
make all sorts of foods and drinks out of one corn;" the middle one, "I
would like to make all sorts of clothes out of one flax thread;" the
youngest said, "I don't like work, but will bear children three times,
and have three sons each time, who shall have:
"Kun kupeesta kuumottawi,
Päiwyt ompi pääla' ella,
Käet on kultaa kalwoisesta,
Jal'at hopeiset polwista."
"The moon shining in the temples,
The sun on the top of the head,
Hands of gold to the wrist,
Feet of silver from the knees."
The king's son marries the youngest girl and, when she is pregnant, goes
to war. She bears three sons, which the midwife exchanges for three
whelps; the same thing happens a second time; and also a third time,
when the wife manages to save one son. The people insist upon her being
sent away; and so she and her child (which she takes secretly in her
bosom) are put in a barrel and thrown into the sea. The barrel grows too
small, so the lad kicks the bottom out, and they land, and live in a
hut, where the woman makes nine cakes of her milk, and finds her other
eight boys. The king's son soon discovers them, and all goes well. The
changed letter also occurs in Antti Puuhaara.
Cf. Hahn, _Griechische Märchen_; "Sun, Moon, and Morning Star;" in which
the king's son marries all the three girls.
_Deccan Days_, "Truth's Triumph," p. 54, where Guzra Bai had one hundred
and one children, which the nurse threw out of the palace on the
dust-heap, and substituted stones for them.
_In the Land of Marvels_, "The Blackbird," p. 34.
Stokes' _Indian Tales_. "The boy who had a moon on his forehead, and a
star on his chin:" also Phúlmati Ráni who had on her head the sun; on
her hands, moons; and her face was covered with stars.
Gonzenbach, _Sicilianische Märchen_, vol. i. p. 19.
Stier, _Ungarische Volksmärchen_: "Die verwandelten Kinder."
Stier, _Ungarische Sagen_: "Die beiden jüngsten Königskinder."
Schott, _Wallachische Märchen_: "Die goldenen Kinder."
_Gubernatis_, vol. i p. 412, says, "In the European story, when the
beautiful princess, in the absence of the prince, her husband, gives
birth to two beautiful sons, the witch induces the absent prince to
believe that, instead of real sons, his young wife has given birth to
pups. In the seventh story of the third book of Afanassieff, the young
queen gives birth, during the king's absence, to two sons, of whom one
has the moon on his forehead, and the other a star on the nape of his
neck (the Açvinâu). The wicked sister of the young queen buries the
children. Where they were buried a golden sprout and a silver one sprung
up. A sheep feeds upon these plants, and gives birth to two lambs,
having, the one the sun on its head, the other a star on its neck. The
wicked sister, who has meanwhile been married to the king, orders them
to be torn in pieces, and their intestines to be thrown out into the
road. The good lawful queen has them cooked, eats them, and again gives
birth to her two sons, who grow up hardy and strong, and who, when
interrogated by the king, narrate to him the story of their origin:
their mother is recognised, and becomes once more the king's wife. The
wicked sister is put to death." In vol. ii. p. 30, another story of
Afanassieff, bk. iii. 13, is quoted, which resembles the "Envious
Sisters"; also a Servian story, p. 31, where the cut-off hands are
replaced by golden ones, by means of the ashes of three burned hairs
from the tails of a black stallion and a white mare. Reference is also
made to _Pentamerone_, bk. iii. No. 2; _Afanassieff_, bk. iii. No. 6;
_the Mediæval Legends of St. Uliva_, by Prof. A. d'Ancona, Pisa, Nistri,
1863; and, _Figlia del Re di Dacia_, by Prof. A. Wesselofski, Pisa,
Nistri, 1866.
Cf. Notes in _Stokes_, pp. 242, 250; _Grimm_, vol. i.: "The Gold
Children," p. 333.
_Portuguese Tales_, by Pedroso: "The Maiden with the Rose on her
Forehead," _F.L.S._ p. 65.
KNIGHT ROSE. Kriza vi.
In folk-stories we often find the heroes erecting some post or pole, or
leaving some article behind them, which will tell of their danger. Cf.
"The Three Princes," p. 111 of this volume. In "The Two Brothers,"
(_Grimm_, vol. i. p. 244,) the foster-father gave to each of the boys a
bright knife, and said, "If ever you separate, stick this knife into a
tree at the place where you part, and then when one of you goes back, he
will be able to see how his absent brother is faring, for the side of
the knife which is turned in the direction by which he went will rust if
he dies, but will remain bright as long as he lives." Cf. "The Gold
Children," where death is shown by the drooping of the brother's gold
lily: and notes, _ib._ p. 453.
In the Russian story "Ivan Popyalof" (_Afanassieff_, ii. 30), Ivan hung
up his gloves, and said to his brothers, "Should blood drop from my
gloves, make haste to help me."
In "Marya-Morevna" (_Afanassieff_ viii. No. 8), the silver left by
Prince Ivan turned black when evil befell him.
In "Koschei, the Deathless" (_Afanassieff_, ii. 24), Prince Ivan let
some drops of blood run from his little finger into a glass, gave it to
his brothers, and said "If the blood in this glass turns black, tarry
here no longer; that will mean I am about to die."
See Ralston's _Russian Folk-Tales_, pp. 67, 88, 102.--The Serbian story
of "The Three Brothers" tells how the brothers stuck their knives into
an oak tree, and when a knife fell out it was a sign that the owner was
dead. Vide _Denton_, p. 273.
In "Five to One," _Sagas from the Far East_, p. 107, six youths set out
and travelled till they came to where six streams met, and each planted
a tree at the head of the stream he chose, and if any tree withered away
it was a sign evil had befallen its planter.
In the Greek story, "Sun, Moon, and Morning Star," (Hahn, _Griechische
Märchen_,) the brothers give their sisters two shirts, and if they
become black it means misfortune.--Cf. also _Folk-Lore Record_, vol. i.
p. 207.
In the curious Egyptian story of the "Two Brothers," the younger brother
says to the elder one, "When thou shalt take a jug of beer into thy hand
and it turns into froth, then delay not; for to thee of a certainty is
the issue coming to pass." _Records of the Past_, vol. ii. p. 144.
See also Isìlakòlona in "Malagasy Folk-Tales," _Folk-Lore Journal_,
1884, p. 130.
In folk-stories the giants were gifted with a keen sense of smell; and
no sooner did they enter the room where a man was than they knew of his
being there. The Norwegians and Swedes have stories of beings, which are
called "Trynetyrk," or "Hundetyrk," and so have the Lapps and Finns. The
Lapps call them "Bædnag-njudne," _i.e._, dog's nose; and the Finns,
"Koiran-Kuonalanien," which means the same. These monsters were men who
had noses like dogs, and so could track men by their scent. They were
said to be enormously large, and to have had one eye in the middle of
their forehead; and were much dreaded on account of their being
cannibals. A Lapp story tells how once a Lapp girl got lost, and came to
a Bædnag-njudne's house. He was not at home, but his wife was. The girl
was little, poor, and quite benumbed by the cold, and looked so
terrified that the wife thought it would be a sin for Bædnag-njudne to
eat her when he came home. So she took her and hid her under her gown.
When Bædnag-njudne came home, he at once began to sniff about, and said,
"I smell some one." His wife said all sorts of things to make him
believe it was not so; and, when she did not dare to conceal the girl
any longer, she let her out of the house secretly, and told her to fly
for her life. Meanwhile, Bædnag-njudne was long sniffing about the
house; and when he could not find anyone inside he went outside, and
soon found the footprints. So soon as the girl saw the monster was after
her, in her terror she sprang from a bridge and hid herself under it. So
the monster lost the track, and the girl was saved. _Friis_, p. 43.--Cf.
"Jack the Giant Killer," where the giant says,
"Fa, fe, fi, fo, fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman;
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread."
_Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 504.
In the northern ballad we are told how a girl is carried off by the
fairies. Two of her brothers set off to rescue her, but fail, because
they do not carry out Merlin's instructions. The third one succeeds;
and, while he sits talking to his sister, the hall doors fly open and
the elf king comes in shouting:
"With _fi_, _fe_, _fa_, and _fum_,
I smell the blood of a Christian man,
Be he dead, be he living, with my brand,
I'll clash his harns frae his harn pan."
See Dr. Jamieson's _Illustrations of Northern Antiquities_.
In the Eskimo story of "The Girl who fled to the Inlanders," (_Rink_, p.
218,) the inlanders know a coast woman has come, by the smell: In
"Inuarutligak," we are told of singular people, whose upper parts are
human, and lower little dogs: and are endowed with a keen sense of
smell.--Cf. p. 199, in this collection.
The cutting up of the hero's body reminds us of the Egyptian story of
Typhon cutting up Osiris, who is restored to life by Horus; see _Uarda_,
note to cap. viii. Cf. also _Sagas from the Far East_, tale v. p. 75,
and _Vernaleken_, "The Three White Doves," p. 269.
In the Eskimo stories the heroes are restored to life by the singing of
certain mystic songs.
In the legend of Gurû Guggâ, the bullocks are restored to life by the
singing of charms; Temple's _Legends of the Punjâb_, p. 124. Cf.
_Grimm_, vol. ii. "Water of Life," and note, p. 399; Ralston's _Russian
Tales_, p. 236.
The "wound-healing grass"[20] is in all probability flixweed
(_Sisymbrium Sophia_), the Magyar name for which signifies
"wound-healing leaf;" see article on Székely Folk-Medicine in _Folk-Lore
Record_, April, 1884, p. 98, and the Finnish story of "Golden Bird."
With regard to the passage "Rose ... was so beautiful that though you
could look at the sun you could not look at him," cf. the reply of
Curidach to Attila, as related by Priscus. "He, (Attila,) then invited
Curidach, chieftain of the Akatziri, to come and celebrate their joint
triumph at his court, but that chieftain, suspecting that his
benefactor's kindness was of the same nature as the promised boon of
Polyphemus to Ulysses, courteously declined, saying, 'It is hard for a
man to come into the presence of a god, and if it be not possible to
look fixedly even at the orb of the sun, how shall Curidach gaze
undistressed upon the greatest of God's' (_i.e._ Attila)." _Italy and
her Invaders_, by T. Hodgkin, London, 1880, vol. ii. p. 84.
The story of a girl assuming a snake's skin reminds us of the daughter
of Ypocras, who dwelt at Lango, in the form of a great dragon; see _The
Voyages and Travels of Sir John Maundeville_, cap. iv. See also,
"Snake-skin," in this collection, p. 283.--A Snake Friend occurs in the
Swahili "Blessing or Property," (_Steere_, p. 405); in the Finnish
"Haastelewat Kuuset," ("The Talking Pines,"); in "Melusina," B. Gould's
_Curious Myths_, p. 471, and in Keightley's _Fairy Mythology_, p.
480.--In the Norse story of the "Three Princesses of Whiteland,"
(_Dasent_, p. 210,) the princesses gradually rise out of the earth as
the lad destroys the trolls. See also _Vernaleken_, "The Fisher's Son,"
p. 250.
In the Serbian tale of "The Three Brothers," _Denton_, p. 275, the witch
destroys two of the brothers, having first persuaded them to throw one
of her hairs on their animals. The third brother resuscitates them, and
all goes well. Cf. "The Enchanted Doe," in _Pentamerone_.[21]
Cf. "To Lappepiger gifte sig med Stall," _Friis_, 106, and "Ivan,
Kupiskas Son," _Friis_, p. 170. Cf. exhaustive note in Stokes's _Indian
Tales_, pp. 163, 268; and the Portuguese tale, "Slices of Fish," in
_Pedroso: Folk-Lore Society_, p. 102. For animals that help, cf. "The
Three Princes," p. 113 of this volume.
To defeat a witch by drawing her blood is well known in the lore of the
people.
Cf. Lapp stories, "Ulta Pigen," where the lad catches an Ulta girl by
pricking her in the hand with a pin, so as to draw blood. A similar
incident occurs in "Goveiter Pige," from Næsseby. In "Bondesønnen,
Kongesønnen og Solens Søster," from Tanen, the herd is told to prick his
bride (who has gone from him on account of his looking behind) in her
hand till blood comes, and then suck the drop off. He did so and secured
his bride. _Friis_, pp. 23, 39, 140.
The same superstition is well known in the North of England. In
Lincolnshire there is a tale still told (1888) of a farmer who could not
get his horses to go past a certain cottage until he got down and
thrashed the old woman, who lived there, till the blood came. Whereupon
the horses went past without further ado. In Sykes's _Local Records_ of
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, under March 26th, 1649, we are told how it was
decided that certain women were witches, because blood did not come when
they were pricked with pins by the "witch-finder." See also _Witch
Stories_ by L. Linton, p. 260, &c.
We must not feel surprised when we learn that it is still customary
among the Servians and other half-civilised nations to subject women who
are suspected as witches to the trial by water, since there are still
many persons living who can remember the same thing having been done in
the Netherlands and Germany. Thus, in 1823, it went through all the
papers that a middle-aged woman at Delten, in Guelderland, being
suspected of being a witch, volunteered herself to prove her innocence
by the trial of water, that the trial actually took place in broad
daylight before a crowd of people in a neighbouring canal, and that the
result of the trial turned out in her favour. The following case is more
horrible. It happened about thirteen years after the above date on the
Peninsula Hela, near Dantzic. A man living in the Cassubian village
Ceynowa was taken ill with dropsy, and a quack pointed out a poor widow
fifty-one years old, and mother of five young children, as the witch who
had caused the man's illness. In order to force her to undo the charm,
the quack beat her and jumped on her in a most brutal manner, and she
was led to the bed of the patient, who beat her with a stick until she
was covered with blood. Not content with this, the quack and some
fishermen took her into a boat and rowed out to sea twice; they tied her
hands and threw her into the water. On the second occasion they towed
her after the boat so long that the poor creature was drowned. The
further particulars are so revolting that one is apt to think that one
reads a description of a punishment among the cannibals. And this
happened in the Prussian State in the month of August of the year
1836!--From _Die Gartenlaube_, December 1884.
See also _Folk-Lore Record_, vol. v. p. 156, and Feb. 1883, p. 58; and
Henderson's _Folk-Lore of Northern Counties_, p. 181, and notes, which
says, "In Brittany, if the lycanthropist be scratched above the nose, so
that three drops of blood are extracted, the charm is broken. In
Germany, the werewolf has to be stabbed with knife or pitchfork thrice
on the brows before it can be disenchanted."
_Restoration to Life_. Cf. "Marya Morevna," _Ralston_, p. 91; Panch-Phul
Ranee, _Frere_, p. 140; "Loving Lailí," _Stokes_, p. 83, where Majnún is
restored to life by Lailí cutting her little finger inside her hand
straight down from the top of her nail to her palm, out of which the
blood gushed like healing medicine; and the Bél-Princess, where the
blood of the little finger again comes in. Also "Golden Hair," _Nauké_,
p. 108, and the Lapp story "Ivan," _Friis_, p. 176. Mr. Quigstad, of
Tromsø, to whose courtesy and learning I am deeply indebted, says he has
heard a similar incident in a Lapp story from Lyngen.
PRINCE MIRKÓ. Kriza, xiii.
_Page 59_. In the Finnish "Leppäpölkky" ("Alder Block"), _S. ja T_. ii.
p. 2, one half of the castle laughs and one half cries. The crying being
on account of a great three-headed snake which arose from the sea, and
would devour half the castle, half the men, and half the precious stones
if the king did not give his eldest daughter in their stead.
_Page 63_. The Tátos is a mythic horse possessed of the most marvellous
powers. It is generally represented (as in the present tale) as being a
most wretched creature to begin with. Cf. "The Little Magic Pony," p.
157; "The Three Princes, &c.," p. 197, where it is hatched from a
five-cornered black egg; "the wretched foal which lies seven fathoms
deep in the dung-heap," in "The Pelican," p. 256; the ugly creature in
"The Girl with the Golden Hair," p. 264; and the piebald in the
"Fairies' Well," p. 289. It feeds on burning cinders, and its breath
changes the most wretched things into the most glorious. Sometimes,
however, the first breath has an extraordinary effect, as _e.g._ p. 198,
where Ambrose becomes like "a diseased sucking pig." The name is still a
favourite one among the peasants for their horses. The word Tátos also
meant a priest in the old pagan days, but it never has this meaning in
the folk-tales.
The Tátos also appears in "Die Königstöchter," in Mailáth's _Magyarische
Sagen_, vol. i. p. 61. See also "Zauberhelene," vol. ii. of the same
collection, where we are told "Taigarot war ein wunderbares Pferd; es
verstand die Reden der Menschen, antwortete auch und hatte neun Füsze."
The whole story tells how Argilus carries off his wife, Helen, from the
power of Holofernes, the fire-king, who has got her in his underground
home. Taigarot belongs to Holofernes, and tells him where Helen is
carried off, and so he recovers her. Argilus hears that the magic horse
has a younger brother still more powerful although possessing but four
legs. This horse belongs to one Iron nose, a witch, and so Argilus
enters her service in order to obtain it. His duties are, first to
control the witch's stud of brazen horses; next to look after her
twelve black mares, who are her daughters, and then to milk them, and
make a bath of their milk. He manages to do all by means of a magic
staff, and so obtains the horse; whilst the witch is burnt to death in
the bath which she thinks will make her young. The horse tells Argilus
to wash it in the bath, and it at once becomes the colour of gold, and
from every hair hangs a golden bell. With this horse Argilus carries off
his wife. Holofernes follows on Taigarot, and not being able to overtake
them, digs his spurs into Taigarot, who in his indignation at such
treatment kicks Holofernes off, and so breaks his neck.
For magic horses in other lands cf. the following tales:--the Finnish
"Oriiksi Muntettu Poika;" "The Little White Horse" in "Ferdinand the
Faithful," _Grimm_, ii. p. 156; Katar, in "The Bay with a Moon and
Star," _Stokes_, p. 131, which becomes changed by twisting his right
ear; "Weisnittle," in Stier's _Ungarische Volksmärchen_, p. 61;
Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse that used to carry the father of the
gods as swift as the wind over land and sea, in Wagner's _Asgard and the
Gods;_ and "Bayard, Faithful Bayard!" the good steed in the Carolingian
Legends in Wagner's _Epics and Romances of the Middle Ages_, pp.
367-396; "the shaggy dun filly" in "The Young King of Easaidh Ruadh," in
_Campbell's Tales of the Western Highlands_, vol. i. p. 4; and the
"steed," in "The Rider of Grianaig," vol iii. p. 14 of the same book.
A magic horse appears in the Lapp story "Jætten og Veslegutten," (The
Giant and the Vesle Boy), from Hammerfest; _Friis_, p. 48. In this case
it assists the boy to escape from the giant, and to marry a king's
daughter; and finally becomes a prince when its head is cut off. "A
winged horse" appears in "Ivan, Kupiskas Søn," a story from Akkala, in
Russian Finland; _Friis_, p. 170. In "Jætten Katten og Gutten" (the
Giant, the Cat, and the Boy), from Alten, _Friis_, p. 63, the boy saves
the giant's son from a troll cat, and is told by the lad he saves, that
his father will offer him a gold horse and "a miserable one," and he is
to be sure and choose the miserable one; and in like manner he was to
choose a miserable box, and a miserable flute, in preference to golden
ones, which would be offered to him. There is a somewhat similar Finnish
story, "Paholaisen antamat Soittoneuwot" (Musical Instruments Given by
the Devil), _S. ja T._, vol. i. p. 181, where the hero, when in the
woods, sees the devil[22] running for his life, with a pack of wolves at
his heels. The lad shoots into the pack, killing one wolf, and thus
terrifying the rest. The grateful devil promises the lad whatever he
wishes. Acting on the advice of a maid in the devil's house, he asks
"for the mare which is in the third stall, on the right-hand side of the
stable." The devil is very loath to give this, but is obliged to do so,
and gives the boy a kantele, a fiddle, and a flute besides. The mare
acts the part of a Tátos for part of the tale, and then changes into a
woman, being the wife of the king, who appears at the latter part of the
story, and who orders the hero to perform difficult tasks. The kantele
is like the fiddle in the "Jew in a thicket" (_Musical Myths_, vol. ii.
p. 122; _Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 97), it makes every one dance that hears
it. The woman drops out of the story, and the persecuting king is kicked
up into the clouds by the irate devil who comes to help the hero, and is
never heard of again.
A horse that can talk plays a prominent part in another Finnish tale,
"The Golden Bird."--"Dapplegrim" is the magic foal in the Norse; see
_Dasent_, pp. 313 and 367. See also the "brown foal" in _Grimm_, "Two
Brothers," No. 107, and the "white horse," in "Ferdinand the Faithful,"
No. 126, and _note_.
Note also horses in "Der goldne Vogel," "Das Zauberross," and "Der Knabe
und der Schlange," in Haltrich's, _Siebenbuergische Märchen_; "La Belle
aux cheveux d'or," in _Contes des Fées_, par Mme. D'Aulnoy; "Schönchen
Goldhaar," _Märchensaal aller Völker für Jung und Alt_, Dr. Kletke, i.
p. 344; "Der goldne Apfelbaum," in Kaiadschitsch, _Volksmärchen der
Serben_, p. 33; and Denton, p. 43. Enchanted horses play a prominent
part in "Simple Johnny," p. 36, and "The Black Charger of Hernando," p.
292, in _Patranas or Spanish Stories_.--Cf. "The little Mare" from
Mentone, _F. L. Record_, vol. iii. p. 44. The Russians tell of "a sorry
colt rolling in the muck," which possesses marvellous powers in "Marya
Morevna," _Ralston_, p. 94; and in "Koshchei, the Deathless," there is
an heroic steed, _ibidem_, p. 101. See also "Ivan Kruchina," _Naake_, p.
124. "The marvellous white horse" appears also in Austria; see _Land of
Marvels_, pp. 48, 256, 260, 272, 342.
In the story of the third royal mendicant, in the _Arabian Nights_, Agib
mounts a black horse and flies through the air. Similar incidents will
be found in Nos. 1, 2, 4, 10, 17 of Dietrich's _Runische Volksmärchen_.
Several variants, together with the author's view of their significance,
are to be found in _Gubernatis_, vol. i., chap. ii.
The following, quoted from Stokes's _Fairy Tales_, p. 278, is worthy of
notice:--
"On the morning of the day which was to see his last fight, Cúchulainn
ordered his charioteer, Loeg, to harness the Gray to his chariot. 'I
swear to God what my people swears' said Loeg, 'though the men of
Conchobar's fifth (Ulster) were around the Gray of Macha, they could not
bring him to the chariot.... If thou wilt, come thou, and speak with the
Gray himself.' Cúchulainn went to him. And thrice did the horse turn his
left side to his master.... Then Cúchulainn reproached his horse, saying
that he was not wont to deal thus with his master. Thereat the Gray of
Macha came and let his big round tears of blood fall on Cúchulainn's
feet. The hero then leaps into his chariot and goes to battle. At last
the Gray is sore wounded, and he and Cúchulainn bid each other farewell.
The Gray leaves his master; but when Cúchulainn, wounded to death, has
tied himself to a stone pillar to die standing, then came the Gray of
Macha to Cúchulainn to protect him so long as his soul abode in him, and
the 'hero's light' out of his forehead remained. Then the Gray of Macha
wrought the three red routs all around him. And fifty fell by his teeth
and thirty by each of his hooves. This is what he slew of the host. And
hence is (the saying) 'Not keener were the victorious courses of the
Gray of Macha after Cúchulainn's slaughter.' Then Lugaid and his men cut
off the hero's head and right hand and set off, driving the Gray before
them. They met Conall the Victorious, who knew what had happened when
he saw his friend's horse. And he and the Gray of Macha sought
Cúchulainn at the pillar-stone. Then went the Gray of Macha and laid his
head on Cúchulainn's breast. And Conall said, 'A heavy care to the Gray
of Macha is that corpse.' Conall himself, in the fight he has with
Lugaid, to avenge his friend's slaughter, is helped by his own horse,
the Dewy-Red. When Conall found that he prevailed not, he saw his steed,
the Dewy-Red, by Lugaid. And the steed came to Lugaid and tore a piece
out of his side."
("Cúchulainn's Death," abridged from the "Book of Leinster," in _Revue
Celtique_, Juin, 1877, pp. 175, 176, 180, 182, 183, 185).
See also, Grimm's _Teutonic Mythology_, Stallybrass, vol. i. pp. 328,
392; McGregor's _Folk-Lore of the North-East of Scotland_, p. 131; and
Belludo, the goblin horse of Alhambra. Nor must we forget "Phooka," the
wild horse of Erin's isle.
Note also the "Iliad"; cf. book ii. 760, book viii. 157, book x. 338,
473; specially Xanthus and Balius who talk, book xix. 440; and,
Martial's splendid epigram, beginning "Phosphore redde diem, cur gaudia
nostra moraris?"
Thus on every side we find this noble creature entwined in the lore of
the people, from the peasants' dull superstition to great Milton's
song,--
"Of the wondrous horse of brass,
On which the Tartar king did ride."
The horse still plays an important part in the folk-lore. Thus _e.g._
Yorkshire people say, that if you see a piebald horse, and do not look
at his tail, or think of a fox, whatever you wish for will be granted;
also, that you must spit over your finger for luck when you see a white
horse. The four black horses and chariot still rush through Penzance
streets in the night, according to some, and the white horse is carried
by the Christmas mummers in various parts of England and Germany. In the
Midlands a horse's head and skin is dragged about on Christmas eve; a
simulacrum, as some think, of Odin's heroic steed. Cf. _Henderson_, p.
70, also F. Finn and Magyar Songs on St. Stephen's Day. _Academy_ 1884.
pp. 150, 315.
_Page 63_. For breathing on old things and causing them to change, see
p. 92, where the baa-lambs restore the lad's body by blowing; and a
Finnish tale tells how a snake commands the hero to create with his
clean breath a copper battlefield that they may fight, and is told by
the man to create an iron one with his heathen breath, which he does;
and other snakes come in the story who in turn create copper and silver
battlefields, see Leppäpölkky, _S. ja T._ 2.
Sometimes the change is effected by a bath, as in "Fairy Elizabeth," p.
110, _supra_.
Cf. _Grimm_, "Iron John," vol. ii. p. 195.
_Page 65._ A glass mountain appears in the "Iron Stove," _Grimm_, vol.
ii. p. 161; "the princess on the glass mountain" in Thorpe's _Yule-Tide
Stories_, p.86; and "The crystal mountain" in _Vernaleken_ p. 276. It
occurs also in a Lincolnshire story, where the forsaken wife sits at her
husband's door and sings:
"Bare bull of orange return to me,
For three fine babes I bore to thee,
And climbed a glass hill for thee,
Bare bull of orange return to me."
_Folk-Lore Journal_, 1885, p. 188.[23]
See also notes to "The Little Magic Pony," _infra_.
The giant in "Handsome Paul," p. 26, like the Tátos in the present tale,
tells his friend to shut his eyes and open them at intervals on account
of the great speed they are going at; just as in the Finnish "Golden
Bird," the young man on the wolf's back is obliged to rub his eyes with
his handkerchief because the pace they are going at makes them water. In
the hurry he drops it and asks the wolf to stop a minute to pick it up
and is told it is already 1,000 miles behind them.
_Page 66._ Knight Mezey's wonderful sword is one of a numberless group
of incidents wherein the sword plays an important part; in this story
Mirkó ordered out his magic sword to protect him while he slept, and
then to join with Knight Mezey's in mowing down the enemies. When he met
Doghead (p. 73), their swords in like manner flew out of the scabbards
and fought their masters' battles; and in the "Secret-keeping little
Boy," p. 233, in this collection, the hero is born with a scabbard at
his side, whilst a sword point appeared in the garden and grew as the
scabbard grew; this sword cut up into pulp any one who came near its
master on mischief bent. Alderblock's sword in the Finnish story in like
manner flew out and cut Syöjätär into mincemeat. The Greeks told of
"Harpé," the sword Hermes lent to Perseus, and of the honoured swords of
Ulysses and Achilles.
Norse legends tell of wondrous swords, such as Odin's "Gram" that he
drove into an ash tree there to remain till the man should be found
strong enough to draw it out.[24] Cheru's sword, forged by the dwarfs,
"shone every morning on the high place of the sanctuary, sending forth
its light afar when dawn arose like a flame of fire;" then there is
Heimdal, born of nine mothers, the sword "Ase" of the Edda, who with his
mighty sword made even cunning Loki cry for mercy.
In the Niebelungen there is "Balmung," craftily made by the dwarfs and
tempered in dragons' blood, wherewith Siegfried smote the giants, and
did mighty wonders, yea, even after its master's death slaying his
enemies, till at last it rested on his grave by Brunhild's side. Roland
wielded his good sword "Durindart," the gift of an angel, against the
Paynim foe and did great wonders.
Dietrich in terrible conflict won "Eche-sax": Flammberg and the good
horse Bayard wrought wonders in the days of Haymon and his children:
Hunford's token of reconciliation to Beowulf, was the gift of "Hrunting"
hardened in dragon's blood: Nägling, Nagelring, and Rosen, too, smote
their worms, whilst "Mimung," good trusty Mimung, in the hands of
heroes, did mighty wonders, even splitting asunder a floating pack of
wool; and was so keen that Amilias did not know that Mimung had cut him
in two till he shook himself; and lo! he fell into two pieces. Wayland
Smith laboured in our own land, and brought forth a wondrous sword.
"Bitterfer, the sword hight,
Better swerde bar never knight.
Horn, to thee ich it thought,
Is nought a knight in Inglond
Schal sitten a dint of thine hand;
Forsake thou it nought."
Charlemagne had his "Joyeuse"; Roland his "Durendal"; Arthur his
"Excalibur"--
"All the haft twinkled with diamond sparks,
Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth work
Of subtlest jewellery."
A wondrous thing that "rose up out of the bosom of the lake," held by an
arm "clothed in white samite, mystic and wonderful;" and when the sword
was thrown back to the lake (its master's life being well nigh run) by
the bold Sir Bedivere--
"behold an arm
Clothed in white samite, mystic and wonderful,
That caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him
Three times, and drew him under in the mere."
Cf. Wagner's _Epics and Romance; Asgard and the Gods; Morte d'Arthur_,
book 1, cap. xxiii. and book 21, cap. v.; _Mythical and Mediæval
Swords_, by Lady Verney, in _Contemporary Review_, October, 1880; _The
Seven Champions of Christendom;_ and Payne's _Arabian Nights_, vol. xi.
pp. 129, 164.
In the Finnish "Oriiksi muutettu poika," the devil has a wonderful
sword, which the hero obtains by the help of the horse: see also "The
Water Smith," Keightley's _Fairy Mythology_, p. 260.--"Shortshanks," in
_Dasent_, p. 153, gets possession of the only eye an old hag had, and so
obtained "a sword, such a sword! It would put a whole army to flight, be
it ever so great;" and certainly it chopped up sundry ogres later on in
the tale; cf. p. 188 in the same collection.
The trap-door by which Mirkó entered the nether world appears in many
stories, such as "St. Patrick's Purgatory"; see Baring Gould's _Curious
Myths_, p. 230, and note to "Shepherd Paul" in this collection, _infra_.
_Page 68._ In the Lapp stories it is said that if Stallo's[25] dog is
not killed as well as the monster himself, that it will lick its
master's blood and then Stallo will come to life again, just as the
witch in this story is evolved out of the morsels of unburnt ribs. See
"Stallo" and "Fogden i Vadsø, som gjorde sig til en Stallo," in _Friis_,
pp. 74, 97.
_Page 71._ The flashing eyes of the princess remind us of the Gorgons.
Her repentance is like that of the queen in the Russian story, who slays
and restores the hero; _Ralston_, p. 235.
The "strength-giving fluid" occurs in numerous stories, _e.g._, in the
Finnish stories, "Alder Block," _S. ja T._, ii., p. 2, and the
"Enchanted Horse," where the hero cannot move an immense sword until he
wets his head with the blood that is in a tub in the middle of the
forbidden room in the devil's house. Cf. also _Ralston_, p. 237;
_Dasent_, "The big bird Dan," pp. 445, 459; _Folk-Lore Record_, 1879, p.
99; and, "Irish Folk-Tales," _ibidem_, 1883, p. 55.
Sometimes it is a belt or ointment that gives strength, as in "The Blue
Belt" and "The Three Princesses of Whiteland," in _Dasent_, pp. 178,
209. Cf. _ante_, p. 248.
A daughter explains to the hero how to conquer her father, in Brockhaus,
_Märchensammlung des Somadeva Bhatta_, vol. i., p. 110.
_Page 72._ In the Karelian story "Awaimetoin Wakka," _S. ja T._ i., p.
151, the lad threw a great iron pole against Vääräpyärä's castle, in
order to let the inmates know he was coming. In the Finnish "Alder
Block," _S. ja T._ ii. p. 2, the hero throws or kicks off one of his
shoes, and it flies to his comrades, and they come and help him.
In "The History of Gherib and his brother Agib," Terkenan threw an iron
mace at his son with such power that it smote three stones out of a
buttress of the palace; Payne's _Arabian Nights_, vol. vi., p. 152. See
also "Story of Vasilisa" in Naake's _Slavonic Tales_, p. 57; and "Sir
Peppercorn," in Denton's _Serbian Folk-Lore_, p. 128: where Peppercorn
hurls the giant's mace back to him just as Mirkó did; and _Roumanian
Fairy Tales_, p. 64.
As to the name "Doghead," see Notes to "The Three Dreams," _infra_, p.
377.
_Page 74._ The castle that collapses into an apple also appears in "The
Three Princes," p. 206, in this collection.
For a variant of Knight Mezey cf. "Zöldike," a Magyar tale, in _Gaal_,
vol. iii., in which the beautiful meadow, the tent, the sleeping knight,
and the witch weaving soldiers, all occur.
THE STUDENT WHO WAS FORCIBLY MADE KING. Kriza vii.
_Page 77._ Heroes of folk-tales often attain wealth, &c., by picking up
some apparently useless thing on the road. See Halliwell, _Nursery
Rhymes_, "The Three Questions;" "The Princess of Canterbury," pp.
153-155.
Oriental writers, Indian and Persian, as well as Arab, lay great stress
upon the extreme delicacy of the skin of the fair ones celebrated in
their works, constantly attributing to their heroines, bodies so
sensitive as to brook with difficulty the contact of the finest shift,
and we may fairly assume that the skin of an Eastern beauty, under the
influence of constant seclusion and the unremitting use of cosmetics and
the bath, would in time attain a pitch of delicacy and sensitiveness
such as would in some measure justify the seemingly extravagant
statements of their poetical admirers, of which the following anecdote
(quoted by Ibn Khellikan from the historian Et Teberi) is a fair
specimen. Ardeshir Ibn Babek (Artaxerxes I.), the first Sassanian King
of Persia (A.D. 226-242), having long unsuccessfully beseiged El Hedr, a
strong city of Mesopotamia, belonging to the petty king Es Satiroun, at
last obtained possession of it by the treachery of the owner's daughter,
Nezireh, and married the latter, this having been the price stipulated
by her for the betrayal of the place to him. It happened afterwards
that one night as she was unable to sleep and turned from side to side
in the bed, Ardeshir asked her what prevented her from sleeping. She
replied, 'I never yet slept in a rougher bed than this; I feel something
irk me.' He ordered the bed to be changed, but she was still unable to
sleep. Next morning she complained of her side, and on examination a
myrtle leaf was found adhering to a fold of the skin, from which it had
drawn blood. Astonished at this circumstance, Ardeshir asked if it was
this that had kept her awake, and she replied in the affirmative. 'How,
then,' asked he, 'did your father bring you up?' She answered, 'He
spread me a bed of satin, and clad me in silk, and fed me with marrow
and cream and the honey of virgin bees, and gave me pure wine to
drink.'--Payne's _Arabian Nights_, vol. ix., note to p. 148. Cf. "the
Tale of the Dragon," in Geldart, _Folk-Lore of Modern Greece_, p. 142.
The same idea is the theme of _Andersen's_ "The Princess and the
Pea."--Cf. Finnish verse about the lovely Katherine, p. 314.
_Page 78._ The castle turns round upon the approach of the dragon in the
story of "Vasilisa," in _Naaké_, p. 51; see also _Ralston_, p. 66.
THE CHILDREN OF TWO RICH MEN. Kriza viii.
For another variant cf. the Magyar tale "The Poor Man and His Child's
Godfather" in Merènyi's _Eredeti Népmesék_, vol. i. See also the Finnish
story, "Lehmää wuohena myöjä," ("The Man who sold his Cow as a Goat")
from Tavastland and Karelia, _S. ja T._ ii. p. 126, which tells of a man
being fooled into the belief that his cow was a goat, but in the end he
overreaches the sharpers.
Cf. Dasent's _Tales from the Norse:_ "Gudbrand on the Hill Side," p.
172; "Not a Pin to choose between them," p. 198; and "Big Peter and
Little Peter," p. 387.
_Grimm_, "Wise Folks," vol. ii. p. 73; "Hans in Luck," vol. i. p. 325.
Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, "The Fool and the Birch Tree"
(Afanassieff V. No. 52), p. 49. Also the latter part of the "Bad wife,"
_ib._ i. No. 9.
_Gubernatis_, vol. i. pp. 44, 200, and 388.
_Dublin Magazine_ 1868, p. 707, "Bardiello."
Payne's _Arabian Nights_, vol. iv. p. 223, "The Simpleton and the
Sharper."
_Udvalgte Eventyr og Fortœllinger_ ved C. Molbech. _Kjöbenhavn_,
1843, p. 317, "Lön som forskyldt, et jydsk eventyr."
Myllenhoff, _Sagen, Märchen und Lieder der Herzogthümer Schleswig
Holstein und Lauenburg_. (Kiel, 1845.) "Die reichen Bauern."
J. W. Wolff (Leipzig, 1845), _Deutsche Märchen und Sagen_, ii. p. 52,
"Die betrogenen Schelme."
Kletke, _Märchensaal aller Völker_, i. p. 98, "Herr Scarpacifico."
_Il Pentamerone_, ii. 10, "Lo compare."
_Grimm_, vol. i. "Clever Elsie," p. 138; Stokes, _Indian Fairy Tales_;
"Foolish Sachúli," pp. 27, 257; _Folk-Lore Record_, 1884, p. 40, Variant
of "The Three Noodles." See also Halliwell's _Nursery Rhymes_, "Mr.
Vinegar," p. 149, and the well-known verses about the pedlar called
Stout, and "The Wise Men of Gotham," pp. 24, 56.
Amongst the numerous other simpleton stories we may note those where
people harrow up their feelings about that which might happen to as yet
unborn children.
The following are Magyar simpleton tales:--
The people in one village tried to carry a ladder through a forest
_across_ their shoulders and cut all the trees down so as to get
through.
_In another_: A stork soiled the new gold nob on the spire and they shot
it so awkwardly that it hung there and disfigured the place worse than
ever.
_In another_: Some grass was growing upon an old church: so, instead of
cutting it and throwing it down, they erected an elaborate scaffold and
pulled a bull up by a rope tied round his neck. The poor brute, half
strangled, put out his tongue, whereupon they said, "See, he wants it
already."
_In another_: When the Turks were coming they put a foal in a little
grotto, and when it grew they could not get it out.
_In another_: By mistake they made it out that they ate the _same_
lentils twice, which is still a joke against them.
In Finland there are many such tales current, of which the following are
specimens. There is a village called Hölmöla, the inhabitants of which
are said to be very cautious, and who always considered well before
doing anything, lest they might get into trouble by overmuch haste. For
instance, when they are going to cut their rye, they always take seven
persons, one bent the rye-stalk down; another held a piece of wood under
it; the third cut the straw off; the fourth carried it to the sheaf; the
fifth bound the sheaf; the sixth piled the sheaves together; and the
seventh ricked them. Matti chanced to see them one day, and was struck
with their manner of working. When evening came there was but a quarter
of the field cut; so he thought he would do them a good turn, and set to
work to cut and bind the rest. When he had finished he laid his sickle
on the last shock and went to sleep. Next morning, when the Hölmöla
people came, they found all cut, and the sickle lying on the shock. They
were all astounded, and came to the conclusion that work done in such
hurry must have been done by witchcraft, and that the sickle was the
wizard who had transformed himself into that shape, and concluded that
he ought to be drowned in order to prevent him interfering with honest
folks' work for the future. As it was not deemed wise to touch such a
creature, they fished it down by means of a long pole with a loop at the
end, and dragged it to the shore, although it was very troublesome, as
it would stick into the stubble and ditches, and try to prevent them
dragging it along. At last it was got into a boat, and rowed off into
the middle of the lake. They then tied a large stone to the handle with
a strong rope, so that it might not float, and then with joyous shout
threw it into the water. Unfortunately the sickle caught the bulwark of
the boat; and, being weighted with a heavy stone, the boat canted over,
and the good folks barely escaped with their lives from the wicked wiles
of the wizard.[26]
Once they built a hut, and did it so thoroughly that they forgot the
windows. When it was done, it was very dark, and so they sat down to
consider how to get the light in. At last they hit upon a plan: the
light was to be brought in a sack! So they opened the bag wide in the
sunlight, and then, when it was full, tied it carefully up, and brought
it in; but alas! the darkness was not enlightened. They were very much
cast down at this; and while they pondered over it Matti passed by, and,
hearing of their trouble, offered to get them the needed light for one
hundred marks; and they were delighted to get it for so little. Matti
cut a hole in the wall, and lo! the hut was flooded with light. The
people were so delighted that they decided to take the whole wall down.
Now they had light enough, but unfortunately, just then the hut fell
down.
The writer of this has often heard in Holderness of a man who could not
get into his trousers, and used to get up hours before his comrade, and
get into his trousers by setting them up by a chair and jumping into
them; till at last he was told to sit down, and put on first one leg and
then the other. This was a great revelation to him. Another man took his
wheelbarrow to wheel daylight in, and worked away till he was told to
open his shutters, and it would _come_ in. One day another brilliant saw
some grass in a church steeple, and was just going to hoist his cow up
to it, when a friend pointed out to him that it was easier for _him_ to
go up and bring it down. When at school at Newcastle-on-Tyne, some
twenty years ago, we were very fond of the story of a Dutchman, who,
with his comrades, went out walking one night; saw the moon's reflection
in the water, and thought it was a Dutch cheese. He determined that the
best way to get it was to go on to the bridge, and by taking hold of
each other's feet to form a chain, and so reach the cheese. The Dutchman
was top man, and held on to the bridge. Just when the bottom man was
about to seize the cheese, the Dutchman hollowed out, "Hold on a minute,
till I spit on my hands!" and so they all fell into the water, and
destroyed the cheese, besides other calamities![27]
Amongst the Lapps, it is the Giants, and Stallo who are fooled, _e.g._:
"Patto-Poadnje hævner sig paa Stallo," "En Askelad narrer Stallo," and
an amusing story of how a dressed-up log was palmed off as a Lapp girl
("Stallobruden"). _Friis_, pp. 78, 90 and 98.
See also "Den listige Lappen," Hofberg, _Svenska Sägner_, p. 195; and a
Russian variant given in _Ralston_, p. 53.
Forgetting to put the spigot into the vessel, and so losing all the
wine, occurs in "The Husband who had to mind the House," _Dasent_, p.
310, and in _Grimm_, vol. i.; cf. also note to "Frederick and
Catherine," p. 238; and "Clever Hans," p. 381.
_Page 82._ In _S. ja T._ ii. pp. 113-126, under head "Kuolema Kummina"
("Death as Godfather"), two stories are given which resemble this part
of the Magyar tale. In "Taiwaan wuohen synty" ("Heaven's Goat's Origin")
from Karelia, a poor man has a child, and goes to look for a godfather.
He meets a stranger, who turns out to be God; but the poor man will not
have him, as he makes one poor and another rich. Soon after he meets
Death, and him he accepts, for with him there are no favourites. Death
gives his godchild three gifts: a chair that whoever sits down on it
cannot get up without leave; a bag that is never empty; and the power to
know whether a person will recover, by noticing whether Death stands at
the head or foot of the bed. The man lived to be over three hundred
years old by tricking Death; and when he died he was not admitted into
heaven because he called God a deceiver, and so he still goes wailing in
mid-air: and this was the origin of the Snipe. In the other story,
"Taiwaasen menijä," (Going to Heaven,) from Kivigari in Tavastland,
Death gives the man an ointment, as a christening present, to heal all,
providing the man sees him standing at the foot of the patient's bed.
Death is grossly deceived, and when the man does die, he only gets into
heaven by a fluke. A variant of the whole story is "Gambling Hansel,"
_Grimm_, No. 81. See also: _Grimm_, vol. i. "The Godfather," p. 168;
"Godfather Death," p. 171, and note, p. 391; and "Brother Lustig," p.
312. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_, ii. p. 951; _Dasent_, "The Master
Smith," p. 120; C. Molbech, _Udvalgte Eventyr_, No. 70: "Döden og hans
Gudsön," and "Brave Petrus en zign Zak," a Flemish Tale in _Volkskunde_.
Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsche Folklore onder redactie van Prof. A.
Gittée 3ᵉ Aflevering 1888, may be quoted as further instances.
Mistress Death appears in "Starving John, the Doctor," in _Patrañas_, p.
125; and in _Vernaleken_, "Hans with the Goitre," p. 238, it is a
skeleton.
In a Wendish Story, St. Hedwige stands as godmother; see _Dublin
Magazine_, 1861, p. 355.
In the Russian Story, "The Bad Wife," _Afanassieff_, i. No. 9, quoted in
_Ralston_, p. 39, the devil flies out of Tartarus, to get out of the bad
wife's way, and assists her husband to become a great doctor. See also a
Lapp variant, from Utsjok, "Kjærringen og Fanden," in _Friis_, p. 138.
THE HUSSAR AND THE SERVANT GIRL. Kriza xix.
Cf. _Dasent_, "The Dancing Gang," p. 507; and the "Drop of Honey," in
Payne's _Arabian Nights_, vol. v. p. 275, where, we are told, "a certain
man used to hunt the wild beasts in the desert, and one day he came upon
a grotto in the mountains, where he found a hollow full of bees' honey.
So he took somewhat thereof in a water-skin he had with him, and,
throwing it over his shoulder, carried it to the city, followed by a
hunting dog which was dear to him. He stopped at the shop of an oilman,
and offered him the honey for sale, and he bought it. Then he emptied it
out of the skin, that he might see it, and in the act a drop fell to the
ground; whereupon the flies flocked to it, and a bird swooped down upon
the flies. Now, the oilman had a cat, which pounced upon the bird, and
the huntsman's dog, seeing the cat, sprang upon it and killed it;
whereupon the oilman ran at the dog and killed it; and the huntsman in
turn leapt upon the oilman and killed him. Now the oilman was of one
village and the huntsman of another; and when the people of the two
places heard what had passed, they took up arms and rose on one another
in anger, and there befel a sore battle; nor did the sword cease to play
amongst them till there died of them much people; none knoweth their
number save God the Most High." See also, "_The Book of Sindibad_,"
Folk-Lore Society, 1882, p. 133.
MY FATHER'S WEDDING. Kriza x.
Cf. Halliwell, _Nursery Rhymes:_ "Sir Gammer Vans," p. 147.
_Grimm_, vol. ii., "The story of Schlauraffen land," p. 229; "No-beard
and the Boy," p. 518; "The Turnip," p. 213, and notes, pp. 413, 442,
452.
_Vernaleken_, "The King does not believe Everything," p. 241.
Caballero, _Fairy Tales_, "A tale of Taradiddles," p. 80.
Denton, _Serbian Folk-Lore_, "Lying for a Wager," p. 107.
Stokes, _Indian Fairy Tales_, Nos. 4, 8, and 17.
Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, p. 295.
Mr. Quigstad has kindly sent the following Lapp variants collected at
Lyngen. There was once a pot so large that when cooking was going on at
one end, little boys were skating at the other. One of the men to whom
the pot belonged set to work to make his comrade a pair of shoes, and
used up seven ox-hides on the job. One of them got a bit of dust in his
eye, and the other sought for it with an anchor, and found during his
search a three-masted ship, which was so large that a little boy who
went aloft was a white-haired old man when he got back again. There were
seven parishes in that ship!
"Lügenmärchen" are common in Finland, and generally turn on a big fish,
or a big turnip, and a big kettle to boil it in, giant potatoes, huge
mushrooms, and so on. A schoolboy's story in Newcastle-on-Tyne relates
how one man told his comrade of a remarkable dream he had had of an
enormous turnip; whereat his comrade replied he had dreamt about an
enormous kettle which was to boil the turnip in.
The other day a Boston friend told the writer a Lincolnshire story of a
man who grew such splendid turnips that there were only three in a
ten-acre field, and one grew so big it pushed the other two out. This
man had a mate who made such a big kettle, that the man at one side
could not hear the rivetting at the other! I am told by my friend Prof.
Gittée that similar tales are current in Flanders.
Another north country yarn tells of a naked blind man going out to
shoot, and seeing six crows, he shot them, and put them in his pocket.
_Page 88._ The river Olt rises in Transylvania, and flows into the
Danube in Wallachia, in which country it is called the Aluta.
THE BAA-LAMBS. Kriza xiv.
Cf. "Saint Peter's Goddaughter," in _Portuguese Folk-Tales_. Folk-Lore
Society, 1882, p. 54.
Dasent, _Tales from the Norse_, "The Seven Foals," p. 349.
Naaké, _Slavonic Tales:_ "The Three Brothers", p. 254.
Stokes, _Indian Fairy Tales_, "The King's Son," p. 234; and the Servian
tale quoted on p. 294.
_Page 93._ Kriza notes that the "rotting, dead dog's head" occurs in the
"Historiae Tripartitae ex Socrate, Sozomeno et Theodorico in unum
collectae," by Cassiodorus; ii. 12. The first edition appeared in 1472.
FAIRY ELIZABETH. Kriza xv.
Cf. Vernaleken, _In the Land of Marvels_, "The Outcast Son," p. 151.
_Page 98._ The Judas she-devil's service lasted for three days in "The
Three White Doves," _Vernaleken_, p. 269.
Amongst the many stories in which time passes rapidly, see Gilmour,
_Among the Mongols_, "The Wizard," p. 344; Ralston, _Russian
Folk-Tales_, p. 304; Baring-Gould, _Curious Myths_, "The Seven
Sleepers," p. 93; and _Friis_, "Troldkjaerringen og Jes," from Swedish
Lapmark, p. 38.
In the Lapp tale, _Friis_, No. 45, swan-maids come and steal the corn,
and the two elder sons fail to catch the thieves, Gudnavirus
(Ashiepattle) the youngest, succeeding in doing so.
_Page 99._ Concerning the bird enticing the boy, cf. the bird that
steals the jewel in "Kemerezzam and Budour," in Payne's _Arabian
Nights_, vol. iii. p. 157.
Cf. also Rink, _Tales of the Eskimo_, "The Sun and the Moon," p. 236;
_S. ja T._, i., "Lippo ja Tapio," from Ilomantsi, p. 6; and _Friis_,
Nos. 44 and 45.
In some other Magyar tales a lame wolf or a lame eagle takes the
woodpecker's place. Cf. Gaal, "Többsinsckirályfi" ("Prince Non-such").
In a Bohemian story it is a limping cock-pigeon, see _Vernaleken_, p.
359.
_Page 101._ Numerous incidents in folk-tales bear on the widespread
superstition against looking (or going) back after setting out on a
journey.
Cf. _Friis_, "Ulta-Pigen," where a lad is returning home with his bride;
the girl warns him not to look back but he does, and lo! there is a
great herd of beasts his wife's parents have given him. The moment he
turned all those outside of the gate vanished; in "Jætten og
Veslegutten," the lad fools the giant, because he dare not look back;
and in "Bondesønnen og Solens Søster," the hero stumbles and falls and
so sees behind him and in a moment the king's town and palaces
disappear.
See also Rink, _Tales of the Eskimo_, "The Revived who came to the
underground people," p. 300; Hofberg, _Svenska Sägner_, "Soåsafrun";
Stokes, _Indian Fairy Tales_, "The Bél Princess," pp. 140, 283; and
Gregor, _Folk-Lore of North-East Scotland_, Folk-Lore Society, 1881, p.
91.
A Lincolnshire labouring man, when I lived in the north of the county,
told me he knew a wizard who wished to mend the road that led to his
house across a field. He ordered one of his men to take a cartful of
stones and a rake and to set off to mend the road, which was to be done
as follows. The cart was to be taken to the far side of the field, and
driven slowly along the road that needed mending, but the man was under
no circumstances to look back. He did as he was ordered, but there was
such a noise behind him that when he had got nearly over the field he
looked round, and lo! there were thousands of devils at work, who
disappeared the moment he looked round, and the road is not done yet.
In the same part of Lincolnshire, one day when a lady had gone out with
a child to be baptized she turned back as she had forgotten something;
when she entered the house one of the servants begged her to sit down
before she went out again or something terrible would happen. The same
superstition exists in Holderness, Finland, Hungary, Algeria, and
Sweden.
_Page 101._ Amongst the numberless examples of swan-maidens, cf. the
following:
_Friis_, "Pigen fra Havet," p. 27; "Bæivekongens eller Solkongens
Datter," p. 152; and "Goveiter-Pige," p. 39, where the girls appear in
gorgeous dresses.
_S. ja T._ i. p. 35, "Tuhkamo"; and ii. p. 53, "Ei-niin-mitä."
Hofberg, _Svenska Sägner_: "Jungfrun i Svanhamn," p. 27.
A story is current in Småland of a clergyman's son who assisted his
father as curate. One morning when the young man awoke he saw the
sun-beams coming in through a knot-hole in the floor, and suddenly a
woman of marvellous beauty came floating in on the light and stood
before him. He sprang up and threw his cloak over her and took her to
his parents. She became his wife and lived happily with him for many
years. One day he chanced to say how strange her coming was, and in
order to emphasize his words he took the knot out of the hole in the
floor, and in a moment she was gone!
In a Lapp story, _Friis_, No. 7, the girl tells her husband to drive a
nail into the threshold to prevent her going away. See also "Lappen i
Skathamn." _Hofberg_, p. 174.[28]
Other examples of the swan-maiden kind are to be found in:--
Rink, _Tales of the Eskimo_, "The Man who mated himself with a
Sea-fowl," p. 146.
Keightley's _Fairy Mythology_, "The Peri Wife," p. 20; also p. 163,
where seals are said to put off their skins; and "The Mermaid Wife," p.
169.
_Legends of the Wigwam_, "Son of the Evening Star," p. 81.
Stokes, _Indian Fairy Tales_, "Phúlmati Ráni," p. 6.
Steere, _Swahili Tales_, "Hasseebu Kareem Ed Deed," p. 355.
_Household Stories from the Land of Hofer_, "The Dove Maiden," p. 368.
Vernaleken, _In the Land of Marvels_, "The Three White Doves," p. 263;
"The Maiden on the Crystal Mountain," p. 274; "How Hans finds his Wife,"
p. 281; and "The Drummer," p. 288.
_Grimm_, vol. ii. "The Drummer," p. 333.
Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, p. 120.
Croker, _Fairy Legends of the South of Ireland_, "The Lady of Gollerus,"
p. 177.
_Sagas from the Far East_, pp. 29, 91.
Payne's _Arabian Nights_, "The Story of Janshah," vol. v. p. 98;
"Hassan of Bassora," and the "King's Daughter of the Jinn," vol. vii. p.
145.
_Portuguese Folk-Tales_, Folk-Lore Society 1882, "The Spell-bound
Giant," p. 35.
_Folk-Lore Record_, 1879, p. 12; 1883, pp. 203, 250, 284, 320; and 1884,
p. 11.
Wägner's _Epics and Romances_, p. 280, see "Valkyrs"; _Asgard and the
Gods_, sub voce "Walkyries."
Baring Gould, _Curious Myths_, sub "Swan-maidens."
_Page 103._ Anent the wedding here mentioned, it may be interesting to
note some ceremonies connected with Magyar weddings in olden times.
Love-making was very simple: there was no long courtship before the
betrothal, and one meeting of the couple was often deemed quite
sufficient.[29] The young folks did not choose their future companions,
that being the parents' prerogative; and very often the match was
arranged when they were in their cradles. It was not considered
desirable to make connections with foreign families, and in case a girl
was given away to a foreigner, one of the conditions insisted upon was
that the husband should learn the language of the country. Francis Csáky
was thrown into prison by his father because he would not marry Miss
Homonmay, who had been selected as his wife. Occasionally, however, some
choice was allowed; thus, for instance, Nicholas Bethlen was allowed to
choose his wife from among the daughters of Paul Béldy and Stephen Kun.
It was considered an offence if a young man, not being a relative, paid
a visit to a house where marriageable girls[30] were, as he was
suspected of courting the young ladies on the sly; if the young man was
one whom the parents approved, a day was fixed for him to come and "see"
the girls. On the appointed day the young man started on his journey
with great pomp, and generally arranged to arrive about supper time (7
to 8 p.m.); if the sight was satisfactory, the girl's hand was at once
asked for.[31] During supper the young couple sat opposite to each
other, and after supper there was a dance. Some parents left it to their
daughters to decide, while others endeavoured "to enlighten them." If
the father was dead the widow sought the advice of her eldest son, or of
the children's guardian. If the young man was refused[32] he left the
place, sometimes carrying the young lady off by force, as John Mikes did
Sarah Tarnóczy. The asking for the young lady's hand was performed by
that member of the family who had the greatest authority; if the offer
was accepted the bridegroom fixed a day for the betrothal. Then came the
interchange of rings. The betrothal ring was not a plain hoop, but one
enamelled and set with diamonds or rubies. From the day of the betrothal
they were considered engaged, and henceforth called each other "my
younger sister" (hugom), and "my elder brother" (bátyám),[33] and the
young man was allowed to make his offerings of gold and silver. The
betrothal--called in Magyar "the clasping of hands"--and interchange of
rings was considered binding on both parties, and a breach of promise
was considered the greatest insult. Sometimes a sort of preliminary
wedding was celebrated, thus Nicholas Bethlen went through the marriage
ceremony soon after the interchange of rings, but a whole year elapsed
before, he took his bride to his house.[34]
Sometimes an agreement was drawn up; and the wedding-day having been
fixed by the bridegroom, it was communicated to the bride's father, so
as to allow him to make his preparations. The number of the wedding
guests often amounted to several hundreds. At the wedding of Barbara
Thurzó, in 1612, seventy Magyar nobles of the highest rank appeared
personally, besides several from the Austrian dominions. The king of
Poland sent his sons and several ambassadors, the number of the guests'
horses being 4324.[35] The wedding-feast was sometimes utilized for the
discussion of politics. All the inhabitants of the village were invited,
bullocks with gilt horns were roasted, and a goodly number of knives
stuck into them for the use of the people. The bread was exposed in
troughs, and the wine in vats. Amongst people of modest means the forms
were the same, the supplies being smaller. The expenses of the wedding
were borne by the serfs.
The bridegroom chose his best man from among his near relations, the
groomsmen were young friends. A widower had neither best man nor groom's
men. The bride had a matron[36] who gave her away, and who, together
with the bridesmaids were chosen from near relatives. There was
generally also "a host" chosen from the higher nobility, and he carried
a gold stick in his hand; the deputy host carried a stick painted green;
these two walked about and looked after the guests. A few days before
the wedding the guests met at the bridegroom's house, and on the night
previous to starting a weeping soirée was held, when the bridegroom took
leave of his bachelorship.[37] On the night previous to the wedding the
bridegroom and his guests journeyed to a village near the bride's
residence, and slept there. So far the bridegroom had come on horseback;
but now he took his seat in a carriage, and in front of him rode two
young nobles clad in wild animals' skins,[38] who were called
"fore-greeters" (elölköszöntök). These were followed by pipers,
drummers, and buglers. In the bridegroom's carriage the best man sat by
his side, his groomsmen in the opposite seat. The "matron of the
bedchamber" (nyoszolyó asszony) followed in another carriage preceded by
two young nobles dressed in skins and on horseback. The procession was
closed by the servants, leading gaily caparisoned horses. The two
"fore-greeters" saluted the chief host of the bride, who returned the
greeting, and sent a message saying that the master would be heartily
welcome: this was conveyed to the assembled guests, who thereupon
proceeded to the bride's residence. When they arrived at the outskirts
of the village, the bride's chief host sent a gold ring and some saddled
horses, and a horse-race was at once got up,[39] the prize being the
gold ring. Then the bridegroom sent his presents to the bride; the
guests, too, sent their presents; as did also the representatives of the
united towns and counties.
If the wedding was kept in a fortified town the guests were saluted by
the firing of guns. The best man greeted the family of the bride, to
which the chief host replied: thereupon the best man asked for the
bride[40] and the chief host replied, endeavouring to pass a joke on the
bridegroom and his best man, to which the latter replied as best he
could. Then the chief host delivered up the bride, and, with a long
speech, invited the guests to the midday meal.[41] The meal was a
sumptuous feast; musicians discoursing sweet music as it proceeded. The
chief host assigned the proper places to the guests. The bride was not
expected to eat, but to weep. The banquet over, dancing began. The first
dance was danced by the best man and matron, who were followed by the
bride and bridegroom; the former simply walking through her dances:
several other dances followed. The bride appeared in three different
dresses on the wedding-day;[42] the bridegroom in three different
dresses on the three days of the wedding. When the bride appeared they
played the "bride's dance." During the parting ceremony the bride went
down upon her knees before her parents, and was handed over to the
bridegroom, who unsheathed his sword and cut off the wedding wreath.[43]
This ceremony was called "taking possession of the girl." The fortress
guns thundered out to let the world know when it took place. The young
couple remained with the bride's parents till the third day, when she
distributed her presents, and then set off to her new home.[44]
See also an account of the Palócz wedding customs in the Notes to the
"Girl with the Golden Hair," _infra_.
There is a host of wedding and love songs, especially in cases where
the ardent lover had to go far to meet his beloved, as for instance, the
Lapps had to do. Two are given in Nos. 366 and 406 of the _Spectator_.
The following[45] I do not think has ever been translated before:
No, not under the wide spreading heaven
Is there so sweet and rich a flower
As my own, dear, sweet, beloved one, she has all my poor heart.
When I travel over the windy Alps
I remember my own belov'd one,
And in a moment it's calm and warm, as after Midsummer.
The tune is very sweet and plaintiff, like so many of the folk-songs,
the translation conveys no idea of the sweet and liquid music that even
the words of the original are brimful of.[46]
"_Six-ox farmers._"--To say that a farmer ploughs his land with six oxen
yoked to his plough means that he is very wealthy.
_Page 104._ The giant in an Austrian story (_Vernaleken_, p. 95) draws
circles in the sand and a fowl appears; and in the Lapp story
("Ulta-Pigen." _Friis_, No. 7) the lad marks out on the ground the plan
of a house, &c., at night, and in the morning all is found complete.
"My lad, it is a _burial_ feast." Halotti tors or burial-feasts are
still very common among the Magyar rural population.
_Page 105._ The trouble that comes from those at home[47] occurs over
and over in all manner of folk-tales, _e.g._, in the Lapp story
["Fattiggutten, Fanden og Guldbyen"] the lad, after meeting a beautiful
girl who becomes his bride, insists upon going home to tell of his good
luck, and when there wishes for his bride and her attendants to appear,
to prove that his story is true. They come, but vanish almost at once,
and then comes the numerous troubles before the lost bride can be found.
_Friis_, p. 161. In another, the son of the swan-maiden shows his mother
her dress, which she at once puts on and vanishes, "Pigen fra Havet,"
_id._ p. 27, with which Cf. _Dasent_. "Soria Moria Castle," p. 466.
_Vernaleken._ "The Drummer," p. 289.
Payne, _Arabian Nights_, "The Story of Janshah," vol. v. p. 109, and
"Hassan of Bassoria," vol. vii. p. 175.
_Page 105, "Johara."_ There is no town of _Johara_ in Hungary,
but there is in Russia a province of the name of _Jugaria_ or
_Juharia_--according to Lehrberg the Югра or Угра, of old Russian
records--whence "the Hungarians (_sic!_) proceeded when they took
possession of Pannonia [their modern home] and subdued many provinces
of Europe under their leader Attila."[48] According to Lehrberg,[49]
it comprised the greater parts of the governments of Perm and Tobolsk
of our days. It was said in Herberstein's time--his journeys were
made in 1517 and 1526--that "the Juhari ... use the same dialect as
the Hungarians, but whether this be true, I cannot say from my own
knowledge; for though I have made diligent search I have been unable to
find any man of that country with whom my servant, who is skilled in
the Hungarian language, might have an opportunity of conversing."[50]
Since Ivan the Terrible, the province gives a title to the Emperors of
Russia.[51]
Cf. Payne, _Arabian Nights_, vol. v. p. 121, wherein the maid flies to
"the Castle of Jewels." The man only gets there by the aid of birds and
beasts, and it is the _third_ and most skilful magician alone who
summons a bird, which is the only one who knows the far-off place. In
another story, vol. vii., p. 176, the maiden flies to the "islands of
Wac."
_Dasent_, p. 212, it is "Whiteland," and an old pike knows where it is.
_Vernaleken_, p. 251, Moon and Sun do not know where the mysterious
place is, but the wind does. See also "the Drummer," p. 289, where the
bride flies to the "Crystal Mountain."
In the Lapp stories we find "Banka Castle" and "Bæive-kingdom," and in
an Irish tale, "Grey Horn's Kingdom," as the mysterious land.
The three men (or women) to whom the forsaken husband goes occurs in the
Lapp stories, "Bondesønnen," "Bæive Kongens Datter," and "Fattiggutten,"
Nos. 44, 45, and 46, _Friis_.
Finnish, _S. ja T._ "Tuhkamo," i. p. 35, and "Ei-niin-mitä," ii. p. 53.
_Vernaleken_, "The Judas She-Devil," p. 255. "The Three White Doves," p.
264. "The Maiden of the Crystal Mountain," p. 275.
_Folk-Lore Record_, 1883, p. 319.
_Portuguese Stories_, F. L. Soc., 1882, p. 108, "The Prince who had the
head of a Horse."
_Grimm_, vol. ii. pp. 381, 399.
The Whistle and Whip as a mode of summoning in common, see "Fisher Joe,"
p. 16, _ante_.
_Page 108._ "The Lame Woodpecker" reminds us of the lame devil in
"Stephen the Murderer," p. 10; in _Vernaleken_, there is "a limper," p.
265, and a "lame hare," p. 275, the reluctance of the birds to take the
man to Johara, &c., occurs in the Finnish and Lapp stories referred to.
_Page 109._ "Youth-giving water." Cf. "The Fairies Well," in present
collection, p. 295. In Hungary snow-water collected in March is said to
possess the same virtue.
Cf. also _Finnish_, "Tuhkamo." _S. ja T._ i. p. 43, where Ashiepattle
washes in a well and becomes marvellously beautiful.
_Lapp_, "Bæivekongen.". _Friis_, p. 152. Where the lad dips his sore
head into a kettle and becomes beautiful and golden haired. See also
_Folk-Lore Record_, 1879. "Old Ballad Folk-Lore," p. 100. In "The Jewel
in the Cock's Head," an Italian story, quoted in the _Dublin Magazine_,
1868, p. 706, the hero at once becomes young and handsome by the virtues
of the jewel, and in a Finnish story, "The Enchanted Ship," the same end
is attained by eating some berries. Cf. the effect of the Tàtos and
baa-lambs breathing on anything, pp. 63 and 92 _ante_; also _Dasent_, p.
362; and such stories as "The Old Man made Young," _Grimm_, vol. ii., p.
215, and note, p. 444.
There are numerous springs and wells whose waters are said to possess
marvellous powers, such as St. Winifred's in Flintshire, St. Keyne's in
Cornwall, St. Bede's at Jarrow, &c. See Chambers' _Book of Days_, sub
voce "Wells"; _Henderson's_ "Wells"; Hardwick, _Traditions,
Superstitions, and Folk-Lore_, p. 267; and Aubrey, _Remains of
Gentilisme_, F.L.S., 1880, pp. 121.
THE THREE PRINCES. Erdélyi, i. 1.
Cf. _Grimm_, vol. i. "The Gold Children," and note; vol. ii. "The Two
Brothers," p. 244, and notes, p. 418; in "Ivan Kupiskas Søn." _Friis_,
p. 170, a bear, a wolf, and a dog help the hero.
See also _Dasent_, "The Blue Belt"; and Denton, _Serbian Folk-Lore_,
"The Three Brothers."
_Page 111._ In explanation of the fact that the wolf, lion, and bear
are sometimes called "dogs," and other times "servants," we may mention
that is quite common in Hungary to address a dog as "my servant;" and
the three brutes in the story are supposed to follow their masters like
dogs. For animals and birds that help, cf. _Ralston_, "The Water King,"
p. 120. _Old Deccan Days_, "Punchkin," p. 14. _Vernaleken_, "The Three
White Doves," p. 269, and "The Enchanted Sleep," p. 312. _Sagas from the
Far East_, p. 137. _Friis_, "Jaetten Os Veslegutten." _Uncle Remus_, No.
xxii. and notes to Prince Csihan.
The sticking of knives into a tree to tell of the fortune or misfortune
of the owner occurs also in "Knight Rose," see notes there, and p. 257.
A town draped in black cloth appears in _Grimm_, vol. i. note, p. 421.
_Dasent_, "Shortshanks," p. 160. _Vernaleken_, "The Cobblers Two Sons,"
p. 197.
The dragon that devours a virgin every week reminds us of St. George,
see Baring Gould, _Curious Myths_, "St. George," and _The Seven
Champions of Christendom_. Cf. _Grimm. Stories from the Land of Hofer_,
"The Three Black Dogs," p. 214. _Friis_, Bondesønnen and _Dasent_, p.
158.
_Page 112._ "The healing weed;" see note to "Knight Rose," p. 342.
The dragon in _No. 7, Pentamerone_, when one of its heads is cut off,
rubs itself against a certain leaf and the head is at once fastened on
again.
The treachery of the Red Knight which appears in this story has already
been noticed in the notes to "The Hunting Princes." Cf. _Dasent_, "Big
Bird Dan."
_Page 113._ Animals restore their master to life in _Grimm_, vol. i. p.
253. _Friis_, "Ivan," p. 170. _Ralston_, p. 231. _S. ja T._ i. "Här'än
korwista syntyneet Koirat siw" (The Dogs who grew from the Ears of a
Bull), p. 138; in another Finnish story, "The Golden Bird," the hero is
restored to life by a wolf, after being slain by his treacherous
brothers. In the Kalevala it is a bee that brings the honey which
restores Lemminkäinen; Rune 15, 530.
The prince thinks he has been asleep, just as Lemminkäinen does in
Kalevala, Song 15, 559. Cf. "Golden Hair," _Naaké_, p. 108;
"Marya-Morevna," _Ralston_, p. 91.
_Page 114._ "Henczida to Bonczida," names of villages, the former in the
county of Bihar, the latter in Kolozs.
_Page 115._ The witch throwing down a rod or hair; see also "Knight
Rose," cf. _Portuguese Folk-Tales_, Folk-Lore Society, 1882, "The Tower
of Ill-Luck," p. 49. Basile, _Pentamerone_, No. 7, where a fairy binds
Cienzo by her hair. Denton, _Serbian Folk-Lore_, "The Three Brothers,"
p. 275.
It is curious the part hair plays in popular lore.[52] According to the
old idea that any part of a person, such as his hair, nail clippings,
&c. was to all intents and purposes himself (see notes to "The Lazy
Spinning Girl"[53]); so it appears here the witch's power would be
conveyed by one of her hairs, just as the witch in the "World's
Beautiful Woman" spits on the child's face with the hope of conveying
her enchantment, p. 166. See _Henderson_, _sub voce_, "Hair." Black,
_Folk Medicine in Wäs_.
_Page 116._ The unsheathed sword in bed occurs in the story of Siegfried
and Brunhild. Cf. also _Dasent_, "The Big Bird Dan," p. 450; Payne's
_Arabian Nights_, "The Story of Prince Seif el Mulouk," vol. vii. p. 94;
_Pentamerone_, i. 9; and _Gubernatis_, vol. i. 330.
THE THREE DREAMS. Erdélyi, i. 2.
Cf. "The Secret-keeping Little Boy," p. 233, in this collection.
According to Ladislaus Arany,[54] an almost exact version of the tale is
given in Schott's _Wallachische Märchen_ (No. 9). Schott calls attention
to the resemblance of this tale to the story of Joseph, in the Old
Testament, who is released from prison and exalted for the successful
solution of dreams. See also two stories from Radloff, _Proben der
Volkslitteratur der Türkischen Stämme Süd-Siberiens_, quoted in
_Gubernatis_, vol. i. pp. 139-142.
The "Operencziás Tenger," is the mythical sea of Hungarian folk-tales.
With regard to the etymology of the word, it is said by some to come
from the expression "ober der Enns," in the German name of the Duchy of
Upper Austria. The etymology is given for what it is worth. As to the
cosmology of the story-tellers, all we can say is, that they appear to
uphold the Zetetic school. The earth is flat, and surrounded by the
Operenczian sea: beyond that is fairyland.
The Magyar peasants think much of dreams, as may be seen in their
wonderful dream-book, "_A legrégibb és legnagyobb Egyiptomi
Almoskönyv_," a work something in the same style as the dream-books that
are still common in country places in England.
The significance of dreams is noticed in _Uarda_, cap. xv. Cf. _Denton_,
"The Dream of the King's Son." _Horace_, c. _iii_. _xxvii_. 41; S. i. x.
33. _Homer_ says that dreams of falsehood passed through an ivory gate
in the lower world: true ones through a gate of horn.
See also Tylor, _Early History of Mankind_, pp. 5-10; and _Primitive
Culture_, "Dreams."
There are many stories of dreams which foretold wealth and power, or
were the means of the dreamer attaining them, _e.g._ "Gontram the good
King of Burgundy," Claud Paradin, _Symbola Heroica_. Also Chambers's
_Book of Days_, vol. i. pp. 276, 394, 617; vol. ii. p. 188. The writer
remembers hearing an almost precisely similar story to the last, when
the ill-fated "Lifeguard" was lost on her way from Newcastle to London.
The Indians pay great attention to their dreams during the long fast at
the beginning of manhood: see _Legends of the Wigwam_, p. 99. In some
stories one of the chief characters pretends to dream that she may
obtain certain information, such as "Luxhale's wives:" _Stories from the
Land of Hofer_, p. 317.
It is a common superstition in Holderness that a morning dream is sure
to come true, but if it is told to anyone before breakfast, it will not.
_Page 118_. "Immured alive": see a Magyar folk-song, "Clement the
Mason," in the _Academy_, July 31, 1886. Cf. a paper read by Oscar
Mailand before the Historical and Antiquarian Society of the County of
Hunyad (April 29, 1885) on the legend of the building of the Monastery
at Arges in Roumania. The story is nearly the same as in the song of
"Clement the Mason." Manuli, the master builder, has a dream, wherein he
is recommended to immure the first woman that appears on the scene; the
victim is Manuli's wife. During the discussion that followed, the
president, Count Géza Kuun, mentioned that the same tale is told of the
castle of Dévén in the county of Nógrád; the fortress of Dévény near
Pozsony (Pressburg); and of another fortress in the Trans-danubian
division, and that the legend is of Slavonic origin.
_Grimm_, ii. "Maid Maleen," p. 350.
_Livius_, viii. c. 15, "Virgo Vestalis damnati incesti, viva deforsa
est."
The king vows to slaughter thirty Muslims at the gate of his palace,
when complete, in "Ali Noureddin." Payne's _Arabian Nights_, vol. viii.
p. 141.
_Folk-Lore Journal_, 1880, p. 282; January 1883, "A Bewildering
Superstition."
Cf. also the incident in "Secret-keeping Little Boy", p. 238.
"_Dog-Headed Tartars_." Our story-tellers almost invariably use the
epithet "dog-headed" when speaking of their old enemies, the Tartars.
Medieval travellers, who wrote in Latin, speak of the Great Khan of
Tartary as "Magnus Canis." Cf. _The Travels of Friar Odoric_, in _Cathay
and the way Thither_ (Hakluyt Soc. 1866). The learned editor remarks (p.
128, note): "I am not sure that a faithful version should not render
'Magnus Canis' as the 'Great Dog,' for in most copies the word is
regularly declined 'Canis,' 'Cani,' 'Canem,' as if he were really a
bow-wow. According to Ludolf, an old German translation of Mandeville
does introduce the mighty prince as 'Der grosse Hund.'"
The irruption into Hungary of the Tartars under Batu Khan, in the
thirteenth century, and their frightful slaughter and terrible
devastations are sufficiently known, and need not further be enlarged
upon here.
With regard to dog-headed people (cf. the Kynokephaloi of Ktesias), such
people are often mentioned in ancient travels; thus, Odoric of Pordenone
says: "[L'Isola che si chiama] Nichovera ... nella quale tutti gli
nomini [h]anno il capo a modo d'un cane." From an old Italian MS. text
in the Bibl. Palatina at Florence, printed in _Cathay and the Way
Thither_, p. 51.
The womankind of dog-headed people are always described as beautiful.
Cf. the travels of Friar Jordanus, Odoric of Pordenone, Ibn Batuta. Cf.
also the lovely wife of old Doghead in "Prince Mirkó" in this volume;
and _Gubernatis_, vol. i. Preface, xix.
_Page 120._ "Born with a caul."
In Holderness and North Lincolnshire, a caul is said to prevent the
owner from drowning. I have heard others say, that you can tell by its
condition what the state of its owner's (the one who was born with it)
health is, even if he (or she) is in a distant land. So long as it keeps
as it is he is well, but if it "snerkles up" he is dead.[55] It is
commonly called a "sillyhood" in the North.
Cf. _Henderson_, pp. 22, 23. _Aubrey, Remaines of Gentilisme_, p. 113.
Gregor, _Folk-Lore of North-East of Scotland_, p. 25.
_Grimm_, i. Hans in Luck. "I must have been born with a caul," p. 329.
Napier, _Folk-Lore_, p. 32.
Babies born with teeth are said by the Magyar peasants to be the
children of witches; see Varga János, _A babonák Könyve_, Arad, 1877, p.
70.
Babies born with teeth are regarded as different to other children, in
some parts of England, but the superstition is vague. A friend had a
servant who was born with a grey lock, and the writer has often seen the
girl; it was regarded as somewhat uncanny. Francisque Michel mentions in
his _Histoire des Races Maudites_, that in the Valley of Argelès old
women, when quarrelling with a cagot, shew their tongue "ou derrier
l'oreille"; this is to remind the poor man of the wisp of hair on his
ear, which is considered uncanny.
_Page 120_. The incident of the lad disguising himself so as to be
exactly like his comrades occurs also at p. 241, in "The Secret-Keeping
Little Boy." To be able to select the right person from several is
looked upon as a test of the magic power of the person tried as in this
case.
Cf. _Naaké_. "Golden Hair," p. 107.
_Vernaleken_. "How Hans finds his Wife," p. 284.
_Folk-Lore Record_, 1883. Ananci Stories, p. 284; and the Polish story,
"Prince Unexpected," _ib._ 1884, p. 13.
_S. ja T._ i. "Kulta-orit," p. 187.
Cf. _Folk-Lore Record_, 1880, "Mons Tro," p. 220.
_Page 121._ In the Lapp story, "Patto-Poadnje." _Friis_, p. 78, the
Stallo's wife suspects there is something wrong with the soup, which is
in reality made of her late husband, but the man fools her by saying he
cut his finger while making it.
In the Finnish story, "Tynnyrissä kaswanut Poika," ("The Boy who grows
in a Barrel"), _S. ja T._ i., p. 105, there are nine cakes made of a
woman's milk. Cf. "How the widow saved her son's life," _Sagas from the
Far East_, p. 207.
We may here note the constant difficulties that appear in the
folk-tales, and thwart the love-making of the heroes and heroines.
Commonly it is the king who does all he can to prevent the lovers being
happy, or it is some one at home who causes infinite trouble. For
examples of the tasks that the lover or husband has to accomplish, see
the tales "Fisher Joe," "Handsome Paul," "Fairy Elizabeth," "The Three
Brothers," "The Girl with the Golden Hair," &c., in this volume.
Cf. also _Friis_. "Ruobba. Jætten og Fanden," p. 67; "Bondesønnen.
Kongesønnen og Solens Søster," p. 140; "Solkongens Datter," p. 152;
"Gutten, som tjente hos Kongen," p. 167.
_S. ja T._ ii. "Leppäpölkky" ("Alder Block"), p. 2; "Maan, meren kulkija
laiwa" ("The Ship that sails over Land and Sea"), p. 22; "Kaikkia,
matkalla karwitaan" (All is useful in a Voyage), p. 29; and "Lakwan
tekijät," (Ship Builders), p. 33.
Basile. _Pentamerone_. No. 23.
Schott. _Wallachische Märchen_, No. 24.
_Ralston_. "The Water King," p. 120.
_Sagas from the Far East._ "How Shanggasba buried his Father," p. 189.
See also the troubles in getting to Johara in Notes to "Fairy
Elizabeth," _ante_.
CSABOR ÚR. Erdélyi, i. 3.
According to some writers this story refers to King Matthias and his
black troop. It is a Csángó tale.[56]
These traditional stories, as specimens of folk-history, are of great
interest, showing how the kindness or tyranny of some lord or lady
clings to the popular mind, and how all manner of stories attach
themselves to great names.
Cf. "Herrn till Rosendal," in Hofberg, _Svenska Sägner_, p. 14;
"Herrskapet på Ugerup," p. 17, where Arild dupes the Danish king by
obtaining leave of absence until he reaps his harvest, he having sown
fir-cones. (A variant of which the writer has heard amongst the peasants
of the Eastern counties) and "Elestorps skog," p. 71, where the whole
forest seems on the move as in _Macbeth_, act v. scene v. See also "An
ancient Arabian parallel," by Dr. Redhouse, in the _Academy_, July, 24,
1886. See also "Snapphane-grafven," _ib_. p. 75, a story of a heap of
stones,[57] now known as the "freebooter's grave," that tells how a
brave peasant slew the chief of the plundering band and so dispersed
them.
"Grefvinnan på Höjentorp," _ib_. p. 97, which is a good example of how
historic incident is moulded and blended in the popular lore, and it may
be of interest to give it here. Shortly after Charles XI. had seized the
greater part of his nobles' property, he went to see his aunt Maria
Eufrosyna and was saluted with a sound box on the ear, and upon asking
why she did it was told he got it for taking all her property from her.
They entered the house where a herring tail and an oat cake was set
before the king, and he was told as he had made his bed so must he lie
on it. The king then asked his aunt if he might take care of her riches
for her, but was saluted with such a box on the ear that he fled and
left her to enjoy her estates in peace.
"Fru Barbro på Brokind," _ib_. p. 112, is an example of how the memory
of a tyrant lives.
"Qvick i jord," _ib_. p. 122, tells of a terrible outbreak of plague,
and how a Finn advised the people to bury a live cock, but as the plague
raged as fiercely as ever a live goat was buried, and then a living
boy.[58]
"Jonas Spets," p. 123, tells how the king found an old soldier
sharpening (putting a point to) his sword and was warned to use it well
on the morrow. After the battle the king ordered him to show his sword,
and lo! it was dripping with blood. "Well done," said the king, "I will
gild the point for you," and so he ennobled the soldier and changed his
name to "Gyllenspets" (Golden-Point). This, according to the popular
story, is the way the family of Gyllenspets in Vermland became nobles.
The writer heard the following from old men in North Lincolnshire.
LIMBER.--There have been great wars and battles all over here and most
of them are attributed to Cromwell. At Riby there was a fearful fight,
the blood ran as deep as the horses' bellies, and to this day there is
an opening in the hedge, where nothing will ever grow, known as Riby
Gap, and there the blood flowed deepest.[59]
THORNTON ABBEY.--There was a great battle there and the soldiers knocked
the church down and the town that used to be near it.
YARBOROUGH CAMP[60]--according to popular belief--was made by Cromwell's
soldiers, who are said to have sat behind the entrenchment when firing
at their enemies.
MELTON ROSS.--Perhaps the most curious is the tale told by an old groom
about the gallows at Melton Ross:--
Some hundred years ago or so three or four boys were playing at hanging,
and seeing who could hang the longest on a tree, when a three-legged
hare (the devil, sir), came limping past; off ran the lads who were on
the ground after him and forgot their comrade, who when they came back
was dead. The gallows was put up in memory of that. The true story is
that there was a rivalry between the Ross family and the Tyrwhits, and
to such a pitch had it grown among their dependants that the two parties
meeting on a hunting excursion got to blows and many were killed. James
I. being in Lincolnshire shortly after, and hearing of it, ordered a
gallows to be erected where the fight occurred, and enacted that in the
future any persons slain in an encounter of this kind should be deemed
murdered, and the perpetrators of the crime hanged. A gallows is always
kept on the spot and when the old one falls to decay a new one is
erected.[61]
_Page 125_. _Permanent blood stains._ Cf. those of Rizzio in Holyrood
Palace; those in the Carmelite convent in Paris, said to have been made
by murdered priests in the revolution; those at Cottele, on the banks of
the Tamar, blood of the warder slain by the Lord of the Manor; those in
Sta. Sophia, at Constantinople, &c.
THE DEVIL AND THE THREE SLOVAK LADS. Erdélyi, ii. 1.
Cf. _Grimm_, vol. ii. "The Three Apprentices," pp. 132, 418. _Stier_,
No. 25.
A similar story used to be current among the schoolboys in
Northumberland.
THE COUNT'S DAUGHTER. Erdélyi, ii. 2.
The writer of this remembers his grandmother telling him this story when
he was a boy in Newcastle on Tyne.
Cf. _Grimm_, i. "The Robber Bridegroom," pp. 164, 389.
Chambers, _Book of Days_, vol. i. p. 291, "Mr. Fox."
Halliwell, _Nursery Rhymes_, p. 164, "The Story of Mr. Fox"; and
Benedict, in "Much Ado About Nothing," act i. scene i.[62]
Cf. _Hofberg_, p. 14, "Herrn till Rosendal," where the horrors of the
lord's house drives his betrothed away; and the "Iron Virgin," of
Munich, who was said to clasp the doomed in her arms and pierce them
with spikes. _Fraser's Magazine_, 1872, p. 354.
The story reminds us strongly of Blue Beard. Cf. _Notes and Queries_,
7th S. ii. p. 321.
THE SPEAKING GRAPES. Erdélyi, ii. 3.
Cf. Thorpe. _Yule-Tide Stories_. "Prince Hatt under the Earth," p. 15.
Stokes' _Indian Fairy Tales_, "The Fan Prince," p. 195. _Grimm_, vol.
ii. "The Singing, Soaring Lark," p. 5, and Variants given on pp. 378,
382. _Gubernatis_, vol. ii. Story from Piedmont, p. 381, and a Tuscan
tale, p. 382. In the latter, the father, who has promised his daughter a
rose, forgets it, and his ship refuses to move on the homeward journey,
and so he goes to a garden to get the rose, which is given to him by a
hideous magician. This reminds us of the Finnish story, "Jykeä Lipas"
(The Heavy Chest), _S. ja T._ ii. p. 146, where a man who was ploughing
near a lake, went down to the strand to drink. When he had done drinking
he tried to raise his head but could not, as a sea-troll had got hold of
his beard,[63] and although the man repeated all manner of magic
sentences he could not get away. The man at last had to promise his
daughter, and so was set free: the story then turns on the forbidden
chamber. In another, "Awaimetoim Wakka" (The Keyless Chest), _S. ja T._
i. p. 151, a man was lost and wanted to get home, when a being appeared
and promised to take him if he would give him what he had at home, which
turns out to be a beautiful child. Cf. "The King and the Devil," p. 189,
in this collection. In Lapp stories the devil comes in. Cf.
"Fattiggutten, Fanden og Guldbyen;" _Friis_, p. 161, where he promises
plenty of fish to a poor man if he will promise what his wife "carries
under her heart;" in another, "Gutten, Havfruen og Ridder Rød," _Friis_,
p. 131,[64] a mermaid stops the king's ship and won't let it go till the
king promises what his wife is bringing into the world. The latter part
of the Finnish and Lapp stories is not like the Magyar, but rather
reminds us of "Stephen the Murderer," and the latter part of "Shepherd
Paul."
The "Dirty, filthy pig," that helps, is a variant of the huge frog that
will not allow the girl to draw water from the well until she gives it
her ring. Cf. "The wonderful frog," p. 224, and notes.
For the youngest daughter who wishes for such out-of-the-way, and in
many cases utterly incomprehensible objects, Cf. Stokes' _Indian Tales_,
"The Fan Prince," where the girl wants "Sabr," p. 195; and "The Rájá's
Son," where the young man hears some parrots talk about the Princess
Labám, whom he determines to find, p. 154; and the "Bél Princess," p.
138. Mr. Ralston also notes _Afanassieff_, vol. i. No. 14, and vol. vii.
No. 6.
_Page 131._ The king tries to deceive the pig, in the same way as he,
the king, on p. 191 tries to deceive the devil.
Usually, there is a long series of troubles between the enchanted one
appearing in some loathsome form and the revelation of the prince in all
his beauty, as in the well-known story of "Beauty and the Beast."[65]
Cf. "Prince Wolf," _Folk-Lore Record_, 1880, p. 227. "Prince Jalma,"
_ib._ 1885, p. 293. On the subject of "Husks," or glorious beings
occurring under lowly forms, see in this collection the snake in "Knight
Rose," "The Wonderful Frog," "Snake Skin," the youngest daughter in "The
Three Princesses," and notes to "The Three Oranges," "Cinder Jack," and
"The Widower and his Daughter."
Cf. also: The boy in the Lapp stories that wears a hat to hide his
golden helmet. _Friis_, "Jætten og Veslegutten." _Stokes_, "The Monkey
Prince," and "The Boy who had a Moon on his Forehead, and a Star on his
Chin," pp. 126, 130, and note, p. 280. _Old Deccan Days_, "The
wanderings of Vicram Maharajah," p. 119, "The Jackal, the Barber, and
the Brahmin," p. 167, and "Muchie Lal," P. 221.[66] _Dasent:_ Hacan
Grizzlebeard. Also, "The twelve wild ducks" in the same collection,
where the brothers appear under the form of ducks. Cf. the Finnish
"Weljiänsä-etsijät ja Joutsenina lentäjät" (one who seeks brothers
flying as swans): "Saaressa eläjät" (living on an island). "Tynnyrissä
kaswanut poika" (a boy grown in a barrel); _S. ja T._ i. _Märchensaal
aller Völker von Kletke_, No. 2. "Die Drei Königskinder." _Household
Stories from the Land of Hofer_, "The grave Prince and the beneficent
Cat." _Grimm_ ii. "The Donkey." "The Goose-girl at the Well," and note,
p. 441. _Sagas from the Far East_, pp. 28, 92, 222, 244, and 274.
THE THREE ORANGES. Erdélyi, ii. 4.
_Page 133._ In "Loving Lailí." _Stokes_, p. 81, the prince is commanded
to open the fruit when he is alone, as Lailí will be inside quite naked.
See also _ib._ pp. 251, 284, and _Grimm_ ii. p. 496. _Pentamerone_, "The
Three Citrons." _Portuguese Folk Tales_, p. 10, F. L. S. 1882; also
_Dasent_, p. 437, "The Cock and Hen a-nutting."
_Page 134._ The changed bride occurs in the Finnish "Merestänousija
Neito." (The Sea-Maid.) _S. ja T._ i. p. 77, and "Ihmeellinen Koiwu"
(The wonderful Birch) _S. ja T._ i. p. 59. _Portuguese Folk-Tales_, "The
Maid and the Negress," F. L. S. 1882. _Stokes, Indian Fairy Tales_, pp.
xxiii. xxv. 3, 143, 284. _Dasent_, "The lassie and her Godmother," p.
219, and the "Bushy Bride," p. 376. _Grimm_, ii. "The Goose-girl;" "The
White Bride and the Black one," and "The Maid Maleen," pp. 508, 525.
_Friis_, Lappiske Eventyr, "Haccis-ædne," see "N. and Q." 7th Series,
ii. p. 104. _Pentamerone_, "The Three Citrons." Geldart, _Folk-Lore of
Modern Greece_, "The Knife of Slaughter," p. 63. _Folk-Lore Record_,
1884, p. 242, _ib._ 1885, p. 292. _Gubernatis_, vol. ii. p. 242. Thorpe,
_Yule-Tide Stories_, pp. 47, 54, 62. Gerle, _Volksmärchen der Böhmen_
No. 5. "Die Goldene Ente." Hyltén-Cavallius. _Svenska Folk Sagor_, No.
7, "Prinsessan som gick upp ur hafvet." Cf. also Steere, _Swahili
Tales_, p. 398. Rink, _Eskimo Tales_, p. 310; and Denton, _Serbian
Tales_, p. 191; also pp. 214 and 222, in this collection.
_Page 135._ The feigned illness occurs in numerous stories, _e.g._:
_Deccan Days_, "Punchkin," p. 5. _Dasent_, "Katie Woodencloak," p. 413.
_Payne_, vol. i. "The first old man's story," p. 21. _Stokes_, "The
Pomegranate King," p. 9. _Records of the Past_, vol. ii. "Tale of the
Two Brothers," p. 149. _Friis_, "Ivan, Kupiskas Søn," p. 170.
_Page 136._ House tidying incident. Cf. _Grimm_, vol. i. p. 226.
"Sweetheart Roland."
THE YOUNGEST PRINCE, AND THE YOUNGEST PRINCESS. Erdélyi, ii. 5.
_Page 137._ Good luck coming from being under a tree. Cf. p. 323 in this
collection; and Rink, _Eskimo Tales_, "Kagsagsuk," p. 101. Stokes,
_Indian Tales_, "The Fan Prince," p. 198, and "The Bed," p. 204.
_Pentamerone_, "The Raven."
_Page 138._ Old one who helps. Vernaleken, _In the Land of Marvels_,
"The Three Tasks," p. 226, and "Piping Hans," p. 221. _S. ja T._ "Maan,
meren kulkija laiwa" (a ship which can sail on land and sea), vol. ii.
p. 22, and "Ihmeellinen Sauwa" (the wonderful stick), _ib._ vol. i. p.
158. In Vicram Maharajah, _Old Deccan Days_, p. 101, the parents of Anar
Ranee caused her garden to be hedged round with seven hedges made of
bayonets, so that none could go in or out, and published a decree that
none should marry her but he who could enter the garden and gather the
three pomegranates in which she and her maids slept.
_Page 139._ The horse incident. Cf. Trojan horse, also _Gubernatis_,
vol. i. p. 336. Geldart, _Folk-Lore of Modern Greece_, "The Golden
Steed," p. 98.
_Page 140._ The marks of moon and stars. In _Payne_, vol. ii. p. 163, we
read, that an old woman was taken "for a man of the flower of God's
servants, and the most excellent of devotees, more by token of the
_shining of her forehead_ for the ointment with which she had anointed
it." _S. ja T._ vol. i. p. 105, "Tynnyrissä kaswanut Poika" (a boy who
grew in a barrel) p. 337, _ante_. Stokes _Indian Fairy Tales_, "a boy
who had a moon on his forehead, and a star on his chin," p. 119. Denton,
_Serbian Folk Lore_, "The Shepherd and the King's daughter," p. 173.
THE INVISIBLE SHEPHERD LAD. Erdélyi, ii. 6.
There is a similar tale in Erdélyi, iii. 5. See also _Grimm_, vol. ii.
"The shoes that were danced to pieces," and notes, p. 430. _Roumanian
Fairy Tales_, London, 1881, "The Slippers of the Twelve Princesses." A
sleeping draught is given to the prince in the story of the Enchanted
Youth. _Payne_, vol. i. p. 59.
_Page 142._ A copper forest occurs in the Lapp story, "Jætten og
Veslegutten." _Friis_, No. 18. Also in _Dasent_, "Katie Woodencloak,"
p. 414.
THE THREE PRINCESSES. Erdélyi, ii. 7.
_Page 144._ A girl finds her way back in a similar way in the Lapp
stories. "Stallo og Lappe brødrene Sodno." _Friis_, p. 85, and
"Stallo-vagge," _ib._ p. 106. Cf. also _Roumanian Fairy Tales_,
"Handsome is as Handsome does," p. 81. _Pentamerone_, "Nennillo and
Nennella." _Serbian Folk-Lore_. Denton, "The wicked stepmother."
_Grimm_, vol. i. "Hänsel and Grethel," and note p. 355.
In the Swedish legend, "Tibble Castle, and Klinta Well." (Hofberg.
_Svenska Sägner_, p. 146,) the princess coming to meet her lover is
carried off by the Mountain King, and leaves her crown hanging on a fir
tree, to show her lover what has happened.
_Page 146._ The acorn's rapid growth reminds one of Jack and the Bean
Stalk.
For Magyar idea of giants and giantesses, see the Introduction,[67] The
one-eyed monster occurs in the Lapp, "Ruobba, Jætten og Fanden,"
_Friis_, p. 67, and in the Finnish "Leppäpölkky." (_S. ja T._ ii. p. 2)
nine daughters fall into Syöjätär's power, and are only allowed one eye
amongst them. See also _Round the Yule Log_.
The Lapps tell of monsters which they call Bædnag-njudne[68] who had
dog's noses, and one eye in the middle of their forehead.
Page 147. Cannibalism. Cf. the Lapp Stories, "Bædnag-njudne," "Stallo og
Fiskerlappen," "En Datter af Stalloslægten flygter fra sine Forældre og
gifter sig med en Lapp," "To Lappepiger gifte sig med Stallo," &c. in
_Friis_. Rink, _Eskimo Tales_, "The Brothers visit their Sister," p.
128. _Old Deccan Days_, "Brave Seventee Bai," p. 28. Payne, _Arabian
Nights_, The History of Gherib and his brother Agib, vol. vi. p. 112.
_Page 148._ A monster is fooled in a similar way, in "The two Children
and the Witch," p. 60. _Portuguese Folk-Tales_, F.L.S. 1882. See also
_Grimm_, vol. i. Hansel and Grethel, p. 67. _Dasent_, "Buttercup," p.
146, and "Boots and the Troll," p. 253. Also other parallels noted in
Ralston _Russian Tales_, p. 168.
The hair combing is a favorite incident in numerous Lapp stories.
The latter part of the story seems to be a compressed edition of the
Cinderella incident.
CINDER JACK. Erdélyi, ii. 11.
The Magyar title of this tale is: "Hamupipöke," and as there are no
genders in the Magyar language, the name may stand either for a male or
a female.
Sports similar to those mentioned in the tale (but of course on a very
much reduced scale, so as to suit ordinary mortals) formed part of the
wedding festivities in Hungary in days gone by. Cf. Baron Radvánszky's
work on _Magyar Family Life in the 15th and 16th Centuries_. 3 vols. (In
Magyar).
For the whole story, Cf. the Finnish "Maan, meren kulkija laiwa" (_S.
ja T._ ii. p. 22), a story from Ilomantsi, which tells of a king with an
only daughter, whom he does not wish to marry, as he cannot bear the
thought of parting from her, and so set as a task for any one who wished
to marry her, the building of a ship that could sail over land and sea.
Three brothers, who were merchants, lived in the land: the youngest was
called Tuhkamo (Ashiepattle): these determined to try their luck; but
the elder failed, because they rejected the offer of help from an old
man; Ashiepattle secured the old man's good will, and so won the day.
The latter part of the tale is something like that of Shepherd Paul in
this collection.
A Karelian story, entitled "Tuhkamo" turns upon three brothers, whose
father before he died bade them come and pray for him by his grave: only
the youngest did so. He was rewarded, and by means of a wonderful horse,
achieved marvellous feats of jumping, and so won the princess. Another
story from North Finland: "Tuhkamo," relates how a dead father came to
his three sons in their dreams, and ordered them to watch on the
sea-shore; the youngest alone did so, and caught a swan maiden, whose
father set him three tasks; viz. to fell all the trees near a bay; to
set them up again; and to bring a golden chain from heaven. He managed
all that by the help of his bride, but got into trouble over the last,
as when he rode up to it, on his wondrous steed, and seized it, it was
so heavy that he fell down to the earth, and was completely buried in
the ground, except a little hair, which remained above ground; a duck
made her nest on his head, and laid her eggs in it, and by means of a
fox and other animals which came to eat the eggs Tuhkamo got out of his
difficulty; he next fooled two men who were quarrelling over three
precious gifts; he then went on to three houses asking for his bride;
all the animals, &c. were summoned, and at last an eagle took him to his
lost bride, who recognised him by a piece of the golden chain he put in
the water the princess's servants drew.
In another Finnish tale, "The Golden Bird," the third son is the only
one who can watch all night, and so finds out what it is that steals
fruit from his father's favourite tree.
The Lapp story, "Ruobba,[69] Jætten og Fanden," _Friis_, p. 67, tells of
_tools_ of all sorts, axes and planes, &c. coming and asking the sons
to give them some food; the eldest refuse, but the youngest gives them
food, and so succeeds in finding out the robber.
Another tale, "Solkongens Datter," _Friis_, p. 152, relates how a man
has a barn full of corn from which some one steals every night. The
man's two elder sons try to watch and fail; but Gudnavirũs (_i.e._
Ashiepattle) succeeds in finding the robbers--three swan-maidens--and
securing one of them.
Cf. also Rink, _Eskimo Legends_, "Kagsagsuk," and "The Child Monster,"
where ill treated ones suddenly develope vast power. Dasent, _Tales from
the Norse_, "The Princess on the glass hill." _Old Deccan Days_, "The
Raksha's Palace," p. 205. Stokes' _Indian Fairy Tales_, "The boy who had
a moon on his forehead," p. 126, &c. and p. 280. Mitford, _Tales of Old
Japan_, "The story of the Old Man who made withered trees to blossom."
Vernaleken, _In the Land of Marvels_, "Hondiddledo and his Fiddle," and
"Mr. Chick," p. 228. _Roumanian Fairy Tales_, "The Hermit's Foundling."
Geldart, _Folk-Lore of Modern Greece_, "The Scab Pate." Steere, _Swahili
Tales_, "Sultan Majnún." Ralston, _Russian Folk Tales_, "The Norka," p.
73. Denton, _Serbian Folk-Lore_, "The Golden Apple Tree and the nine
Peahens." "Who asks much gets little." _Grimm_, vol. i. "The Golden
Bird," "The Three feathers." _Ibidem_, vol. ii. "Iron John," and notes,
p. 434. _Gubernatis_, vol. i. pp. 25, 177, and 293, &c. where Russian
variants are given. Thorpe, _Yule-Tide Stories_ "The Millet Thief."
_Polnische Volkssagen und Märchen_, Aus dem Polnischen des K. B.
Woycicki von F. H. Levestam, "Der Glasberg." _Deutches Märchenbuch_, von
L. Bechstein, "Hirsedieb." _Sagen Märchen und Gebräuche aus Sachsen und
Thüringen_, Gesammelt von Emil Sommer, "Der Dumme Wirrschopf." _Svenska
Folk Sagor_, Hyltén-Cavallius och G. Steffens, "Prinsessan uppå
Glasberget."
THE THREE BROTHERS. Erdélyi, ii. 8.
The beginning of the tale reminds us of "The travels of Truth and
Falsehood," p. 36 in this collection.
_Healing Mud_, p. 152. Cf. pp. 36, 53, 323, and 336, in this collection.
Also, "Right is always right," a Wendish story, quoted in the _Dublin
Magazine_, 1868, p. 356, and _Vernaleken_, "The Accursed Garden," p.
308.
In Tuscany, the peasants believe that whoever washes his face in the dew
before the sun rises on St. John's Day will have no illness all the year
following. See _Gubernatis_, vol. i. p. 219. Cf. also Payne, _Arabian
Nights_, vol. v. pp. 279, 281. A magic whistle appears in the Finnish
story, _e.g._ "The ship that can sail on land and sea," _S. ja T._ ii.
p. 22. See also in this collection, p. 192, and _Gubernatis_, vol. i. p.
289.
The envious brothers (or fellow-servants) appear in numerous stories,
such as "Kulta-orit, Kulta-nuotta, wasta ja pilli (the golden stallion,
golden drag net, broom and flute)," _S. ja T._ i. p. 187, and _Dasent_,
"Boots and the Troll."
The tasks set are somewhat like those in "Fisher Joe."
In the Lapp story, "Gutten, som tjente hos Kongen" (_Friis_, p. 167),
the hero is ordered to bring all the wild beasts of the forest into the
King's courtyard. Animals help Hans in the "Maiden on the Crystal
Mountain;" _Vernaleken_, p. 276. Cf. also notes to "Fisher Joe" and
"Handsome Paul."
THE THREE VALUABLE THINGS. Erdélyi, ii. 9.
Cf. Naaké, _Slavonic Fairy Tales_, "The wise judgment." Caballero,
_Spanish Fairy Tales_, "A girl who wanted three husbands." _Sagas from
the far East_: "Five to one," p. 112; and "Who invented Woman," p. 298.
Denton, _Serbian Folk-Lore_, "The three Suitors." Geldart, _Folk-Lore of
Modern Greece_, "The Golden Casket," pp. 112 and 115, and _Arabian
Nights_, "Prince Ahmed and the Fairy Banou."
THE LITTLE MAGIC PONY. Erdélyi, ii. 10.
A curious story of a magic horse is still told in Lincolnshire, which I
heard the other day in Boston. This is _verbatim_. "Near Lincoln is a
place called Biard's Leap; near there an old witch lived in a cave, who
enticed people in and eat them. One day a man offered to go and kill
her. He had his choice of a dozen horses, so he took them all to a pond,
where he threw a stone into the water, and then led the horses to have a
drink, and the one which lifted its head first he chose. It was blind.
He got on its back, and, taking his sword, set off. When he got to the
cave's mouth, he shouted to the witch to come out.
"Wait till I've buckled my shoe,
And suckled my cubs,"
cried the witch. She then rushed out, and jumping on to the horse stuck
her claws into its rump, which made it jump over thirty feet (the
so-called Biard's leap). The man struck behind him with his sword, which
entered the old woman's left breast, and killed her."
The legend is given in a curious little tract, entitled "The existing
remains of the Ancient Britons within a small district lying between
Lincoln and Sleaford, by the Rev. G. Oliver, D.D. London, 1846." The man
of the above version is replaced by a knight, who "cast a large stone
into the lake, accompanied by a secret petition to the gods, that the
chosen steed might raise his head from the water;" Biard rises, and they
go to meet the witch, who has her left breast cut off by the first blow
of the knight's sword; the second blow she evades by springing on to
Biard's flank, where she fixes her talons, so that the horse took a
series of prodigious leaps, three of which are at least sixty yards
asunder, and are still marked by the impressions of his feet. The witch
died from her wound, and was buried under a huge stone at the cross
roads, and a stake driven through her body. _Gubernatis_, i. p. 338. Cf.
Notes to Prince Mirkó.
_Page 160. Obstructions placed in the way of the witch or giant who
follows._
Cf. Finnish, "Awaimetoin Wakka" (the Keyless Chest), _S. ja T._ i. p.
151, and "Oriiksi muutettu poika" (the enchanted horse), _ib_. p. 142.
Lapp. "Jaetten og Veslegutten." _Friis_, p. 49, and "Jaetten og Drengen
hans," _ib._ p. 58. Rink, _Eskimo Tales_, "A tale about Two Girls," and
"Giviok." Naaké, _Slavonic Tales_, "The wonderful hair," and "Ivan
Kruchina." _Legends of the Wigwam_, "Exploits of Grasshopper," p. 61.
_Old Deccan Days_, "Truth's Triumph," p. 63. _Portuguese Folk Tales_, F.
L. S. 1882, "The Maid and the Negress," and "St. Peter's Goddaughter."
Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, "Marya Morevna," p. 95: "the Baba Yaga,"
p. 141, and "the Witch and the Sun's Sister," p. 173. Dasent, _Norse
Tales_, "The Mastermaid," p. 91; "Farmer Weathersky," p. 334, and "The
Widow's Son," p. 363. _Grimm_, vol. i. "The Water Nix." Geldart, _Greek
Tales_, "Starbright and Birdie," "The Golden Casket," p. 123, and "The
Scab Pate," p. 164. _Vernaleken_, "The Two Sisters," p. 157.
_Pentamerone_, "The Flea," and "Petrosinella." _Records of the Past_,
vol. ii. "Tale of the Two Brothers," p. 142. _Gubernatis_, vol. i. pp.
166, 175. _Folk-Lore Journal_, 1883, "The Three Sisters and Itrìmobé,"
p. 235. A Malagasky tale. Ananci Stories, _ib._ p. 286. Irish
Folk-Tales, _ib._ p. 323. _Ibid._ 1884. "Prince Unexpected," p. 15, a
Polish tale, and "Isìlakòlona," _ib._ p. 31, a Malagasy tale.
THE BEGGAR'S PRESENTS. Erdélyi, ii. 12.
Cf. the wonderful gifts in: "Taiwaasen menijä" (one who goes to heaven)
_S. ja T._ ii. p. 113, and "Ei-niin-mitä" (just nothing) _ib._ p. 53.
"Bondesønnen, Kongesønnem og Solens Søster." _Friis_, p. 140. _Dasent_,
"The Best Wish," p. 294, and "Katie Woodencloak," _ib._ p. 412. _Old
Deccan Days_, "The Jackal, the Barber, and the Brahman." Stokes' _Indian
Fairy Tales_, "The Story of Foolish Sachúlí." _Sagas from the Far East_,
"The Avaricious Brother," p. 23. _Vernaleken, In the Land of Marvels_,
"The Wishing Rag," "The Magic Pot." _Patránas_, "Matanzas." Caballero,
_Spanish Folk-Tales_, "Uncle Curro and his Cudgel." _Pentamerone_, "The
Months." _Grimm_, vol. i. "The Wishing Table, the Gold Ass, and the
Cudgel in the Sack," and notes, p. 387. Also "The Knapsack, the Hat,
&c." and notes, p. 409. Crofton Croker, _Irish Fairy Legends_, "The
Legend of Bottle Hill." Payne, _Arabian Nights_, vol. vi. Jouder and his
Brothers. _Folk-Lore Record_, 1878, "Some Italian Folk-Lore," p. 202.
_Gubernatis_, vol. i. pp. 127, 154, 161; and Nordlander, _Sagor, Sägner
och Viso_ No. 4.
THE WORLD'S BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. Erdélyi, iii. 1.
Arany gives the following variants of this tale: _Mailath_ 2,
_Grimm_[70] 53, and _Schott_, Wallachische Märchen 5. See also in
Russian poetry by Pushkin, in Bodenstedt's translation i. p. 100. In the
German variants, twelve pigmies take the place of the twelve robbers in
the Hungarian tale; and the queen thus addresses her mirror:
"Spieglein, spieglein an der Wand
Wer ist die schönste im ganzen Land?"
And receives the reply--
"Frau Königin. Thr seid die Schönste hier
Aber Schneewitchen ist thausendmal schöner.
Als Thr."
Cf. Pedroso _Portuguese Folk-Tales_, F.L.S. 1882. "The Vain Queen," and
"The Maiden with the Rose on her Forehead."
_Page 164._ The love-stricken ones is a touch of the Oriental method of
describing the power of love. See numberless examples in Payne's
_Arabian Knights_.
_Page 165._ There is an Indian superstition noted in Temple's _Legends
of the Punjáb_, p. 51, where we read, "he wore some coarse clothes over
his own, so that her perspiration should not injure him," and in the
footnote: "the woman's perspiration would take his 'virtue' out of him."
_Page 165._ Magic Mirror. Besides the variants at the beginning of the
notes, we may compare the Magic Mirror in the Norse Saga, "King Gram"
and the Hanoverian tale, in _Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 379.
For spitting as a mode of enchantment, see numerous examples in _Arabian
Nights_.
_Page 172._ "The Pin, &c. which prevents the girl from moving." Cf.
Stokes, _Indian Fairy Tales_, p. xiii., "The Pomegranate King,"
p. 14, "The princess who loved her father like salt," p. 165; and notes
on pp. 248, &c.
In the Finnish tale, "Här' än Korwista syntyneet Koirat siw" (Dogs which
sprang from the ears of a bull), in _S. ja T._ 1, a girl scratches her
brother's head with a devil's tusk, and so kills him; but his faithful
dogs lick the wound, and so restore him to life.
In a Lapp story, "Bondesønnen" (_Friis_, No. 44) the son's sister
awakes, when the hero pricks her hand, and sucks the drop of blood off.
Cf. Schott, _Wallachische Märchen_, p. 251. Pedroso, _Portuguese Tales_,
F.L.S. 1882, "The Maid and the Negress." _Irish Folk Tales_, Folk-Lore
Record. 1884, p. 197, "The Story of John and the Amulet." Halliwell,
_Nursery Rhymes and Tales_, "The Red Bull of Norroway," p. 169. Thorpe,
_Yule-Tide Stories_, p. 40, "The Princess that came out of the water."
Payne, _Arabian Nights_, vol. i. p. 375. _Gubernatis_, vol. ii. p. 15,
and a story from near Leghorn, p. 242, where it states that similar
stories are to be found in Piedmont, in other parts of Tuscany, in
Calabria, &c. and in the _Tuti-Name_. _Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 243, "The
Glass Coffin." _Pentamerone_, "Sun, Moon, and Talia," and "The Three
Citrons." Gonzenbach, _Sicilianiasches Märchen_, vol. i. p. 82.[71] _Old
Deccan Days_, "Little Surya Bai," p. 83; "Chundun Rajah," p. 233;
"Sodewa Bai," p. 240. In the two last, we also have examples of bodies
remaining undecayed for months after death. Sodewa Bai looked as lovely
a month after her death as on the night she died; cf. also the
well-known "Sleeping Beauty."
The prince in the Greek story weeps and groans over a picture, just as
this prince does over his dead princess. See _Geldart_, p. 95, "The
Golden Steed."
_Page 180._ For a fuller note on witches see the Introduction.
THE GIRL WITHOUT HANDS. Erdélyi, iii. 2.
Cf. "Neitonen kuninkaan Sadussa" (The Maid in the King's Garden), and
"Neitonen Hernemaassa"[72] (The Maid in the Pea-field). _S. ja T._ i.
pp. 108-119. _Grimm_, vol. i. "The Girl without Arms," and note, p. 378.
Molbech, _Udvalgte Eventyr og Fortaellinger_, "Pigen uden Haender."
THE KING AND THE DEVIL. Erdélyi, iii 3.
Cf. _Some Italian Folk-Lore_, "Lion Bruno," _Folk-Lore Record_, 1878, p.
209. _Portuguese Stories_, "The Story of a Turner," _Folk-Lore Record_,
1881, p. 152. _Irish Stories, Folk-Lore Journal_, 1884, p. 39. _Grimm_,
vol. ii. "The King of the Golden Mountain," and "The Nix of the Mill
Pond." Thorpe, _Yule-Tide Stories_, "The Gold Ring and the Frog," "The
King's Son and Messeria," and "Goldmaria and Goldfeather." _Vernaleken,
In the Land of Marvels_, "The Fisher's Son," and "The Stolen Princess."
_S. ja T._ i. "Awaimetoin Wakka," and _S. ja T._ ii. p. 146, "Jykeä
Lipas" (the Heavy Chest). _Friis_, "Gutten, Havfruen og Ridder Rød," and
"Fattiggutten, Fanden og Guldbyen." Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_ p.
362-366, 124, 133.
Steere, _Swahili Tales_, "The Spirit who was cheated by the Sultan's
Son." _Gubernatis_, ii. p. 382. One may also compare the Viennese
Legends of the "Stock-im-Eisen," and of the "Baren-Häuter," for which
_vide Pictures of Hungarian Life_, pp. 172 and 387. Cf. also the Swedish
Legend, "Friskytten," in Hofberg's _Svenska Folksägner_, and the
well-known stories of Faust and Der Freischütz. See also p. 130 _ante_.
_Page 191._ The attempts to deceive the devil are found in numerous
tales, e.g. _Friis_, "Stallobruden." _Grimm_ ii., "The Iron Stone," p.
158. Lindholm, _Lappbönder_, "De bedragne jätten and; Quigstad og,"
Sandberg _Lappiske eventyr og folkesagn_, "Stallo og lappepigen."
_Page 191._ "Owl's Feathers." Pillows of the same sort appear in "The
Pelican," p. 255, and remind us of the superstitions connected with wild
birds' feathers. In many parts of Lincolnshire, it is said, that it is
impossible to die on a bed that contains them. I know of one old lady in
Yorkshire, who when _in extremis_ begged to be moved off her bed, as she
was sure she could not die on it, as it had some bad feathers in it. In
some places it is pigeon's feathers that the people particularly
dislike. See also Henderson's _Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties_, p.
60.
_Page 192._ For different tasks, such as the millet cleaning, see also:
_S. ja T._ i. "Ihmeellinen Koiwu" (The wonderful Birch). Stokes, _Indian
Fairy Tales_, "The Rájá's Son," p. 163, and p. 180. Temple, _Legends of
the Punjáb_, "Râjâ Rasâlû," p. 43. Thorpe, _Yule-Tide Stories_. "Svend's
Exploits," p. 353. Geldart, _Folk-Lore of Modern Greece_, "The Snake,
the Dog, and the Cat," p. 44. _Pentamerone_, "The Dove." _Folk-Lore
Journal_, 1884, "Prince Unexpected," p. 13. _Gubernatis_, Vol. i. p. 38.
Ralston, _Russian Folk Tales_, "The Water King," p. 126; also pp. 18,
153, 208 in this work.
The hairs that became serpents remind us of Medusa.
_Page 193._ The changes of the pursued, in order to avoid capture, occur
in numerous tales, _e.g._ "Handsome Paul," and note 320 _ante_. Also _S.
ja T._ i. "Oriiksi muutettu poika," and "Awaimetoin Wakka." _Friis_,
"Jætten og Veslegutten," and "Jætten og Drengen hans." _Household
Stories from the Land of Hofer_, "The Dove Maiden," p. 384. _Vernaleken,
In the Land of Marvels_, "How Hans finds his Wife," p. 284, and "The
Drummer," p. 292. _Folk-Lore Journal_, 1884, "Prince Unexpected," p. 15,
and Malagasy Folk-Tales, "Isìlakòlona," p. 131. Campbell, _Popular Tales
of the Western Highlands_, "The Battle of the Birds."
_Page 194._ The devil's limping and the woodpeckers and hares in other
stories,[73] reminds us of an old Yorkshire saw, "Beware of those whom
God has marked," and I know cases of people who regard any external
deformity as the expression of internal malformation.
_Page 195._ In the Lapp stories, the giants swallow so much water that
they burst.
With the moral tacked on to this tale, cf. _Vernaleken_, "The Nine
Birds."
THE THREE PRINCES, THE THREE DRAGONS, AND THE OLD WOMAN WITH THE IRON
NOSE. Erdélyi, iii. 4.
_Page 197._ Tátos. Cf. notes, p. 345, also _Roumanian Fairy-Tales_, "The
Hermit's Foundling" and "Vasilica the Brave." _Pentamerone_, "Corvetto"
and Geldart, _Folk-Lore of Modern Greece_, "The Golden Steed," and "The
Scab Pate."
The dragon vomiting out those it has eaten. Cf. The queen swallowed by
the whale, in the story of the "Two Orphans," p. 223. Also Red Riding
Hood. _Grimm_, i. "The Wolf and the Seven little Kids." Cf. old Greek
legend of Kronos devouring his children.
_Page 199._ The bridge seems to suggest the bridge in the Koran. See
also the bridge in _Pentamerone_, "The golden root."
This part of the story somewhat resembles that of "the Accursed Garden,"
in _Vernaleken_.
_Page 201._ The transformation of Ambrose and the Dragon. Cf. _Roumanian
Fairy Tales_, "Vasilica the Brave," p. 73.
In the Lapp stories the hero calls for help to his gods. See _Friis_.
"Stallo og Patto Poadnje," and "Stallo og Fiskerlappen."
_Page 202._ In the Finnish story, Alderblock turns himself into an
ermine. See _S. ja T._ 2, "Leppäpölkky," a story which is very much like
the Magyar in this part. Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, "Ivan Popyalof,"
p. 69. Also _ib._ pp. 71 and 72. In the Finnish tale (_S. ja T._ i.)
"Weljiänsä-etsijät Tyttö"--a little dog prevents the girl from bathing
in water which would transform her. Cf. Pedroso, _Portuguese
Folk-Tales_, "Pedro and the Prince," p. 26. _Gubernatis_, i. p. 191.
_Page 203._ Ambrose sticks to the axle as the people did to the lamb, p.
14, _ante_. Cf. Story of Loki and the Eagle.
_Page 204._ The witch in the lower world reminds us of the Egyptian
Legend of Ishtar, _Records of the Past_, vol. i. p. 144.
_Page 205._ The folk-tale-teller was ever fond of having a sly rap at
the clergy. Cf. Lapp tale, where the priest wants to marry the goveiter
girl himself, because she has a costly silver girdle; _Friis_,
"Goveiter-Pige." Also Ralston, _Russian Folk Tales_, p. 27.
_Page 205._ Worming secrets out of witch, &c. by flattery. Cf. _S. ja
T._ ii. "Antti Puuhaara," and _Friis_, "Stallo og Lappebrødrene Sodno."
_Ib._ Concealed Life. Cf. _Friis_, "Jætten, som havde skjult sit Liv i
et Hønseaeg," and "Jætten og Veslegutten," where the giant has hid his
life in the middle of a cow's heart. Rink, _Eskimo Tales_, "The girl who
fled to the Inlanders," p. 220. _Old Deccan Days_, "Punchkin," p. 13.
Stokes, _Indian Tales_. "Brave Hírálálbásá," p. 58; "The Demon and the
King's Son," p. 187, and note, p. 261. Dasent, _Tales from the Norse_,
"The giant who had no heart in his body," p. 75.
_Sagas from the Far East_, "Child Intellect," p. 133. Steere, _Swahili
Tales_, "Story of the Washerwoman's Donkey," p. 5. Ralston, _Russian
Folk Tales_. "Koschei the Deathless," p. 103, and pp. 113--115. Mr.
Ralston also gives _Asbjörnsen_, "New Series," No. 70, p. 39. Haltrich,
_Deutsche Volksmärchen ausdem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen_, p. 188.
Wenzig, _Westabauischer Märchenschatz_, No. 37, p. 190. _Hahn_, No. 26,
i. 187, and ii. pp. 215, 294--5, _Vuk Karajich_, No. 8. Cf. _Records of
the Past_, vol. ii. "Tale of the Two Brothers," p. 149. Geldart, _Greek
Folk-Tales_, "The little Brother who saved his Sister from the Dragon,"
p. 56. _Pentamerone_, "The Dragon." Campbell, "Tales of the Western
Highlands," vol. i. p. 81. _Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 564. Denton, _Serbian
Folk-Lore_. "Bash-chalek," p. 172. Payne, _Arabian Nights_, vol. i. p.
118, and vol. vii. p. 91. Engel, _Musical Myths_, vol. i. p. 201.
_Folk-Lore Journal_, 1884, "The Philosophy of Punchkin." Tylor,
_Primitive Culture_, pp. 152, 153. _Gubernatis_, vol. i. pp. 131, 140,
269, and 412. Thorpe, _Yule-Tide Stories_. "The Man without a Heart."
Black, _Folk-Medecine_, p. 32. _Gesta Romanorum_, "The Knight and the
Necromancer." Castren, _Ethnologische Vorlesungen über die Altaischen
Völker_, p. 174. _Page 206._ A wonderful chest in the Finnish story,
"Awaimetoin Wakka" (_S. ja T._ i.) opens as the golden apple in the
Magyar tale, and out of it comes castle, servants, &c. See also Prince
Mirkó, p. 74, _ante_.
THE WIDOWER AND HIS DAUGHTER. Erdélyi iii. 7.
There are some wild variants of this tale to be found amongst the
Finnish Folk-Tales. See "Ihmeelinen Koiwu," the wonderful birch,
"Kummallinen Tammi," the marvellous oak, and "Kolmet Sisärykset," the
three sisters. _S. ja T._ i. pp. 59-77, also "Awannolla kehrääjät," the
spinner beside the ice-hole, and "Sisärpuolet," the half-sisters. _S. ja
T._ ii. pp. 161-172. Winther, _Danske Folkeeventyr_, "Den onde
Skemoder," Asbjörnsen og Moe, _Norske Folkeeventyr_, "Manddattern og
Kjärringdattern." _Deutsches Märchenbuch von L. Bechstein_, "Die
Goldmaria und Pechmaria." Kuhn und Schwartz, _Norddeutsche Sagen_, "Das
Mädchen im Paradis." Hyltén-Cavallius, _Svenska Folksagor_. "De twå
Skrinen," Geldart, _Folk Lore of Modern Greece_. "Little Saddleslut" and
the "Goat Girl," _Sagas from the Far East_, p. 180. Ralston's _Russian
Folk Tales_, "The Dead Mother," and p. 260, where a Serbian variant is
quoted, which apparently bears a strong resemblance to some of the
Finnish. Denton's _Serbian Folk-Lore_, "Papalluga." Vernaleken, _In the
Land of Marvels_, "The Blackbird," and p. 84. _Pentamerone_, "La Gatta
Cenerentola."
_Gubernatis_, vol. i., pp. 31, 182, 195, 208, 241, 291, 293. Thorpe's
_Yule-tide Stories_. "The Little Gold Shoe" and "The Girl clad in
Mouseskin." _Grimm_, vol. 1, "Cinderella," "Allerleirauh," and notes,
pp. 364, 416, 420. _Household Stories from the Land of Hofer_.
"Klein-Else." _Folk-Lore Record_ 1878. "Some Italian Folk-Lore," p. 188:
_ib._ 1880. "The Icelandic story of Cinderella." _Portuguese
Folk-Tales_, F. L. S. pp. 68 and 97: _Folk-Lore Record_ 1884; Folk Tales
of the Malagasy, p. 74, _ib._ Chilian Popular Tales, "Maria the Cinder
Maiden." _Tasks imposed_, p. 208; see _ante_, p. 398. The gold rose
stuck into the gate-post (p. 211) occurs in one of the Finnish variants.
_Page 214_. The gipsy woman incident. Cf. _ante_, p. 386.
_Page 215_. The "feather picking" refers to gatherings of country girls
held during the winter, to dress feathers collected during the year for
bedding.
_Ib_. The golden duck incident is an exceedingly common one. Cf. _Old
Deccan Days_, pp. 85 and 223. _Portuguese Folk-Tales_: F.L.S. p. 12.
Stokes' _Indian Tales_, p. 284.
THE WISHES. Erdélyi iii. 11.
Cf. _Payne_, vol. v. "The man who saw the night of power." _Caballero's_
Fairy Tales, "The three wishes." _Grimm_, "The poor man and the rich
man," and notes; and a fragment in _Notes and Queries_. Finnish
Folk-Lore, 6th S. viii., p. 201, also _Lewins_ "A fly on the wheel," p.
81, where a Hindustani variant is given.
THE TWO ORPHANS. Erdélyi iii. 9.
In a Finnish Tale, "Weljiänsä-etsijät Tyttö," _S. ja T_. i. p. 119, the
girl who seeks her brothers, the girl is warned by a faithful dog, from
going near or touching water which a witch wishes her to do, and which
entails misery on her; as also in another, "Leppapölky," where the witch
tempts the heroes in like manner. Cf. Geldart's _Folk-Lore of Modern
Greece_. "Starbright and Birdie," p. 33. _Grimm_, "Brother and Sister."
_Gubernatis_, vol. i., pp. 175, 354, and 390.
_P. 221_. The cutting off of the lock of hair reminds us of the
widespread superstitions connected with hair, or any other part of a
person. Cf. _ante_ pp. 332 and 374. _Archaeology_, "The Physicians of
Myddfai," p. 113. I have also often heard the following in Yorkshire and
Lincolnshire. That you must not give a lock of hair to anyone, or else
you will quarrel with that person; that you must not keep the hair of a
dead person unless it is "made up," or you will have ill-luck; and that
all hair cuttings and nail parings ought to be saved and placed in the
coffin, so that the person may "enter heaven perfect!" A baby's hair and
nails must not be cut until it is a year old, or else it will be a
thief. Hair must not be cut when the moon is waning. It is also said
that ague can be cured by hanging a lock of hair on a willow tree.[74]
_Page 223._ The witch wishes to get rid of the deer, in the same way
that the gipsy does the golden duck, _ante_ p. 215. Cf. Stokes's _Indian
Fairy Tales:_ "The Pomegranate King," p. 10; "Phúlmati Ráni," p. 4; "The
Jackal and the Kite," p. 22; "The Bél-Princess," p. 144; and Notes, pp.
245-253. _Gubernatis_, vol. i., p. 412, and vol. ii., p. 31.
_Page 223._ In the Lapp Story, "Pigen fra Havet," _Friis_, No. 8,[75] a
child is brought down to the sea-shore to bring mother back; and in the
Finnish story, "Ihmeelinen Koiwu," The wonderful Birch, the child's cry
brings mother back, just as the little deer's lament in this tale
reaches the sister's ears at the bottom of the well.
In this Finnish tale the mother replies, and says to the reindeer, which
are feeding near:
"Reindeer! Reindeer! feeding in the swamp,
Come and take care of your child!
Come and see the child you have borne!
For the witch's daughter has neither food nor drink,
And cannot quiet its cries."
See also _Finnish_, "Maid who rose out of the sea."
_Grimm_, "The lambkin and the little fish," and notes.
_Pentamerone_, "The two cakes." Theal, _Kaffir Folk-Lore_, "The story of
Tangalimlibo," p. 61.
_Page 223._ Creatures inside others.
Cf. Theal, _Kaffir Folk-Lore_, "The story of the cannibal mother," p.
142; "The story of the glutton," p. 175; "The great chief of the
animals," p. 177; and the Finnish story, "Seppo Ilmarisen Kosinta"
(Smith Ilmarinen's courtship), where the smith, after being swallowed by
Untamoinen, cuts his way out.
Stokes's _Indian Fairy Tales_, "Loving Lailí," p. 76.
THE WONDERFUL FROG. Erdélyi, iii. 15.
My friend, Prof. Aug. Gittée, has kindly forwarded me a Flemish variant,
"Van het Meisje dat met een Puits trouwde." "The tale of a girl who
married a frog." See _Volskunde Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsche
Folklore_, 1888, p. 48. Cf. _Grimm_. "The Frog King" and notes. Stokes,
_Indian Folk Tales_, p. xvi. and "The Monkey Prince." _Gubernatis_. "The
Frog." Max Müller, _Chips from a German Workshop_, vol. ii. p. 249. Cox.
_Mythology of the Aryan Nations_. "Frog." Halliwell. _Nursery Rhymes and
Tales_. "The maiden and the frog."[76] Dasent. _Tales from the Norse_.
"Bushy Bride."
THE DEVIL AND THE RED CAP. Erdélyi, iii. 19.
Cf. Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, "The Soldier and the Vampire," p.
314. Vernaleken. _In the Land of Marvels._ "How a Shepherd became rich."
JACK DREADNOUGHT. Erdélyi, iii. 16.
Cf. _Grimm_, "The Story of the youth who went to learn what fear was,"
and notes: _ib._ "The King's son who feared nothing," and notes.
_Household Stories from the Land of Hofer._ "Fearless Johnny."
_Afanassieff_, v. 46.
_Page 232._ The secret treasures guarded by ghosts, &c. is a world-wide
tradition. Cf. Hofberg, _Svenska Folksägner_. "Skatten i Säbybäcken,"
Where a carriage full of gold and silver is said to be sunk mid-stream,
over which a weird light flickers. Many attempts, we are told, have been
made to rescue it, but each time some one has spoken, or else the
bull-calves--which are not to have a single black hair on them, and were
to be fed for three years on unskimmed milk--were not strong enough; and
so the attempts have ever failed. See also, in the same work
"Skattgräfvarna," where the searchers were frightened away by the Demon
guardians of the hidden store. In Lincolnshire I have heard of a field
where, tradition says, countless barrels of beer, and a fender and
fireirons of silver, are buried, and in my own parish I have collected
three similar tales told of places here, and the other day a Negro from
South Carolina told me another. Cf. Hardwick, _Traditions,
Superstitions, and Folk-Lore_ (chiefly Lancashire and the north of
England), pp. 41, 46, 195, and 252. Cf. Baring Gould. _Curious Myths_.
"The Divining Rod."[77]
THE SECRET-KEEPING LITTLE BOY AND HIS LITTLE SWORD. Erdélyi, iii. 8.
Cf. _Grimm_, vol. i., "Faithful John" and note. See _ante_, p. 350.
With regard to the sword growing in the garden, Cf. the Hunnish
superstition mentioned by Priscus. "He (Attila) believes also that there
will be before long some noteable increase of his power; and that the
gods have signified this by revealing to him the sword of Mars, a sacred
relic much venerated by the Huns, for many years hidden from their eyes,
but quite lately re-discovered by the trail of the blood of an ox which
had wounded its hoof against it, as it stuck upright in the long grass."
_Italy and her defenders_, by T. Hodgkin, vol. ii. p. 92. No doubt
Priscus makes use of the name of Mars to designate the Hunnish deity in
the same way as Tacitus when he speaks of the Teutonic god of war. A
naked sabre, fixed hilt downwards in the earth, was worshipped by the
Alani. Cf. p. 33 of the above-mentioned work.
_Payne_, vol. vi. "Jouder and his brothers," pp. 129, 152, 164.
See also, Geldart, _Folk-Lore of Modern Greece_, "The Scab Pate." Payne,
_Tales from the Arabic_, vol. i., "The story of the King who knew the
quintessence of things."
"The Three Dreams," p. 117, in this collection, and notes, p. 375.
_Page 236._ The execution. The last ceremony with a condemned man when
he is pinioned is to read once more his sentence to him. This is done by
the sheriff, and concludes with "Hangman, do your duty!" After the
execution is over, the military present are commanded to prayer; the
helmet is taken off, the musket taken in the left hand and grounded, and
every soldier kneels on his left knee, and remains so for a few minutes
till order is given "From prayer."
In olden times the sheriff, after he read the sentence, broke his
judicial staff in twain, and threw the pieces at the culprit's feet:
hence the Hungarian saying, "to break the staff near anyone," is
equivalent to pronouncing sentence: _e.g._, "I have done this, but don't
break a staff over my action," _i.e._, do not condemn my action.
_Page 238._ "Immuring alive." Cf. Roumanian legend "Manuli," and notes
in this collection, p. 376.
_Page 243._ In the Finnish tale, "Alderblock," there is a sword, which
cuts the enemy into fragments.
SHEPHERD PAUL. Erdélyi, iii. 17.
Cf. Finnish stories, "Lappäpölkky," _S. ja T._ 2; where Alderblock has
five companions who assist him in his labours; also "Mikko Metsolainen"
and "Mikko Mieheläinen," _S. ja T._ i.; stories very much like the
Magyar one. Also, "Maan, meren kulkija laiwa." In a Lapp story we find
companions helping the hero. _Friis_. "Ruobba, Jaetten og Fanden."
_Grimm._ "How six men got on in the world," and notes; "The six
servants," and notes; "Strong Hans," and notes.
Müllenhoff, _Märchen und Lieder der Hertzogenthümer Schleswig Holstein
und Lauenberg_, "Rinroth." Molbech, _Udwalgte Eventyr_, "De fer
Tienere." Cavallius och Stefens, _Svenska Folksagor_, "De begge
Fosterbröderne," and "Halftrollet eller de Tre Swärden."
Bechstein. _Deutsches Märchenbuch_. "Der Hafenhüter."
Denton. _Serbian Folk-Lore_. "Sir Peppercorn."
_Patrañas._ "The ill-tempered Princess." "A tale of fourteen men," a
Flemish tale; see _Magazin für die Literatur des Auslandes_, 1844.
Caballero, _Spanish Tales_, "Lucifer's ear." Geldart, _Folk-Lore of
Modern Greece_, "The Golden Casket" and "Little John, the widow's son."
_Pentamerone_, "The Flea" and "The Booby."
_Folk-Lore Record_, 1881, p. 142. "The story of Mamma-na-Bura," a
Portuguese tale: _ib._ 1883, p. 254, "Folk-Lore of Yucatan."
_Page 246._ The latter portion of the tale is to be met with in many
tales, _e.g._, "Awannolla Kehräajät," where the girl goes through a hole
in the ice, and finds a beautiful world there.
Dasent. _Tales from the Norse._ "The two step-sisters," p. 129;
"Shortshanks," p. 166; and "The Big Bird Dan," p. 449.
Vernaleken. _In the Land of Marvels._ "The Taylor and the Hunter," "The
Accursed Garden," and "The Three Princesses."
Denton. _Serbian Folk-Lore._ "The wonderful Kiosk."
_Patrañas_, "Simple Johnny and the spell-bound Princesses." _Grimm_,
"The Elves," and notes. _Sagas from the Far East_, "How the Schimnu-Khan
was slain." Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, "The Norka," and variants
there given on p. 80.
Geldart, _Folk-Lore of Modern Greece,_ "The Prince and the Fairy."
Steere, _Shahili Tales_, "Hasseebu Kareem ed Deen," p. 337.
_Arabian Nights._ "Ahmed and Pari-Banou," and numerous other examples of
underground palaces, where distressed princesses lie awaiting
deliverance.
_Gubernatis_, vol. i. pp. 25, 129, 193, 194; vol. 187, &c.
Rink. _Tales of Traditions of the Esquimaux._ "The woman who got
connected with the Ingersuit or under-world people." There are numerous
stories about the under-world and its people in Lapp stories, _e.g._,
_Friis_, "Cacce-haldek eller Havfolk," where a boy rows to the
under-world. (_Notes and Queries_, 7th s. v. p. 381; cf. _ib._ 7th s. v.
p. 501.) "Bæivekongens Datter," "Goveiter." There is also a tribe of
underground people called Kadnihak, who are said to dress in red
clothes, and have long flaxen hair reaching to their waists. Some people
are said to have learned their songs, which are called "Kadniha-Vuolee."
Cf. Baring Gould, _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_, "St. Patrick's
Purgatory." _Deutsche Märchen und Sagen_, Gesammelt und mit Anmerkungen
herausgegeben von J. W. Wolff, "Der Kühne Sergeant." _Polnische
Volksagen_, Aus dem Polnischen des K. W. Woycicki von F. Levestam, "Die
drei Brüder."
See also, Friis, _Lappisk Mythologi._ "Under jordiske Guder."
_Page 248._ The Lapp tales say that the Stallos used to wear an iron
shirt. See _Friis_, No. 26. Læstadius believes them to have been old
Vikings.
THE PELICAN. Erdélyi, iii. 6.
Pelicans may occasionally be seen in the South of Hungary, but upon the
whole the bird is unknown to the common people. The story-teller
represents it as a little bird that sings most beautifully.
The hypercritical reader may be shocked at another natural historical
blunder, viz., when the whale is described as "the king of fishes." But
then we must remember that our own Sir Walter Scott speaks of the phoca
as a fish in the last sentence of chapter xxxvii. of _The Antiquary_.
The Emperor Joseph II.'s edict expelling the Jesuits is still valid, we
believe, but is not enforced. The Order has one or two houses in the
country, and nobody disturbs them.
In a Finnish tale one half of a castle weeps while the other half
laughs. Cf. also another Finnish story "The Golden Bird," where a king's
son goes in search of a splendid bird which his father longs for. The
hero is assisted by a wolf, which, amongst many other strange things, by
rolling three times on the ground on its back, becomes a shop full of
precious goods.[78] After many trials, chiefly due to the perfidy of his
brothers, the hero, by the assistance of the wolf, wins the golden bird
and a lovely princess. The golden bird will not sing till the youngest
prince appears, just as in the present tale.
_Page 251._ "The old Beggar." This incident is common in folk-tales.
_Page 252._ "Dragon's milk," a favourite compound of mighty power in the
magic formulæ of Finnish and Magyar folk-medicine.
_Page 255._ "Owls' feathers." _Vide_ p. 398, _ante_, and _Notes and
Queries_, 6th S. X. p. 401.
_Page 256._ "Traced triangle," _ante_, p. 370.
_Page 257._ "Pleiades." Stars and their lore is one of the most
interesting branches of Folk-Lore. Space forbids more than passing
allusion to it here. In a note sent by Mr. Haliburton, he points out the
important part this group of stars plays in the history of Primitive
Man. There appears to be a mass of primitive traditions amongst savages,
as to a primæval paradise with its Tree of Life and Knowledge being
situated in the Pleiades. See also legends current amongst the
Polynesians, Kiowas of the Prairies, the Abipones of the Pampas, Dyaks,
&c. We may also compare the Cabeiric brethren in Phoenician tradition.
In the seventh star, say the Finns, is the sign of the slave; the
ancient Finns having regulated their rising by the seven stars. A
Finnish friend, Mr. K. Krohn, says he has obtained some forty old
Finnish star names from an old woman, and hopes, by comparison of the
same with the Arabic names, to obtain valuable results.
See also _Sagas from the East_, p. 53, and _Gubernatis_, vol. i., p.
228. Cox, _Mythology of the Aryan Nations_, "Pleiades."
_Page 258._ Just as the hero here goes to seek in an unknown land for
what he needs, so does the hero in the Finnish tale, "Antti Puuhaara";
_S. ja T._ 2, go to Pohjola. (Darkness, _i.e._ the Northern Part). Cf.
also Dasent's _Tales from the Norse_ "Rich Peter the Pedlar," p. 236.
Vernaleken, _In the Land of Marvels_, "For one Kreuzer a hundred."
_Pentamerone_, "The Seven Doves," &c. and pp. 107 and 371 in this work.
_Page 259._ The threshold is a most interesting object in the lore and
tales of the people. In Finland it is regarded as unlucky if a clergyman
steps on the threshold when he comes to preach at a church. A Finnish
friend told me of one of his relations going to preach at a church a few
years ago, he being a candidate for the vacant living, and that the
people most anxiously watched if he stepped on the threshold as he came
in. Had he done so, I fear a sermon never so eloquent would have
counted but little against so dire an omen.[79] In the Lapp tales the
same idea appears, see _Friis_, "Ulta-Pigen," the lad returning from a
visit to his wife's parents (who are fairy folk) is ordered to step
quickly over the threshold, and so saves his life. In the same story we
read that a nail driven into the threshold will prevent a fairy wife
from running away.
Ralston, _Russian Folk-Tales_, "The Fiend." Here Marusia gets entangled
with the evil one, and death comes into her family; in terror she asks
her granny what she is to do, and is told, "Go quickly to the priest and
ask him this favour--that if you die your body shall not be taken out of
the house through the doorway, but that the ground shall be dug away
from under the threshold, and that you shall be dragged out through that
opening." Rink, _Eskimo Tales_, "The Angakok from Kakortok," p. 391.
Napier, _Folk-Lore from West Scotland_, p. 46, where, in the description
of marriage ceremonies, we read "The threshold of the house was
disenchanted by charms, and by anointing it with certain unctuous
perfumes, but as it was considered unlucky for the new-made wife to
tread upon the threshold on first entering her house, she was lifted
over it and seated upon a piece of wood, a symbol of domestic industry."
Cf. 1 Samuel, v. 5, "Therefore neither the priests, nor any that come
into Dagon's house, _tread on the threshold_ of Dagon in Ashdod unto
this day." Priests and dervishes in India still leap over the threshold
of their temples, as they are considered too sacred to be trodden
upon.[80]
_Page 261._ "The Organ Playing." Cf. a similar incident in the Finnish
story of the Golden Bird.
_Page 262._ In the Finnish "Alder Block," the hero's father and mother
have their age at once reduced by one-half, when the lovely Catherine
embraces them. In the romance of Ogier le Danois sweet singing banishes
all care and sorrow. "Et quand Morgue approcha du dit chasteau, les Faes
vindrent au devant dogier, chantant les plus melodieusement quon
scauroit jamais ouir, si entra dedans la salle pour se deduire
totallement," and so time is destroyed. "Tant de joyeulx passetemps lui
faisoient les dames Faees, quil nest creature en ce monde quil le sceust
imaginer se penser, car les ouir si doulcement chanter il lui sembloit
proprement quil fut en Paradis, si passoit temps de jour en jour, de
sepmaine en sepmaine, tellement que ung an ne lui duroit par ung mois."
THE GIRL WITH THE GOLDEN HAIR.
This story, with the four that follows, viz., "The Lover's Ghost,"
"Snake Skin," "The Fairies' Well," and "The Crow's Nest," are Palócz
Folk-Tales, _vide Palócz Folk-Poetry_, by Julius Pap, Sarospatak, 1865.
The hatchet-stick (in Magyar "fokos") mentioned in the tale is an
ordinary walking-stick with an axe-shaped brass or steel implement at
the end. It is nothing else than the old Scandinavian "paalstaf," the
"palstave" or "winged celt" of English antiquaries. It forms part of the
national costume of the Magyars, and was carried by nearly everybody
before 1867.
The ceremony of exchanging handkerchiefs alluded to in the tale requires
some explanation, and we avail ourselves of this opportunity to give a
few details of the marriage customs among the Palócz people as related
by Pap.
On the first morning in May the lad erects a May-pole outside of the
window of his lady-love, the higher the pole the more it pleases the
girl, because the length is understood to be in direct proportion to the
intensity of her lover's passion. On Whitsunday a pilgrimage to the Holy
Well adjoining the monastery at the village of Verebély is arranged, and
here the girl buys a nosegay made of artificial flowers for her lover,
in return for the maypole, which nosegay is worn by the lad until next
May-Day, or until the wedding. In the meantime the lover visits the girl
secretly once or twice at the house of her parents under the cover of
night, and later on introduces himself to her parents. If he be well
received he sends some friends to ask for the girl's hand, who state
their request generally in very flowery language. If the lad's proposal
be accepted, the ceremony of exchanging handkerchiefs takes place soon
after, the lovers presenting handkerchiefs to one another in which they
wrap apples or nuts. From this moment they are considered to be engaged.
The wedding is generally held after the vintage. On the day before the
wedding a man, whom we shall call the master of ceremonies, perambulates
the village and invites the guests to the festival. On the day itself
the guests congregate at a place appointed by the M.C., and the whole
company start in procession, headed by a band, to the house of the
bride. They all stop outside the gate, and only the bridegroom's best
man enters the house and invites the bride to start. The girl then,
accompanied by her relations and bridesmaids, and a married woman, whom
we shall call the Mistress of the Bedchamber, leaves the house and joins
the procession, and they all proceed straight to the church. After
church the young woman returns with the whole procession to her own
house, and a light breakfast is served, at the end of which all the
people adjourn to the bridegroom's house, leaving however the bride
behind, until after lengthy coaxing, begging, and some elaborate
ceremonies, she consents to go, and is led in triumph to her husband's
house, where she is received by the father-in-law at the gate, who
nearly overwhelms her with kind words, flattery, and congratulations,
and holding her hand leads her into the house and introduces her to his
wife, children, and relations. The rejoicing has now reached its climax,
and the wedding banquet is at once commenced, to which each invited
guest contributes a share according to his or her means.
During the banquet the bridegroom's best man waits at table, and ushers
in the various courses reciting a verse for each _plat_, setting forth
in most flowery language the various good points of the dish.
After supper the bridegroom's best man takes three lighted candles into
his left hand and escorts the bride into her bedchamber, where he
removes the "párta,"[81] and confides her to the care of the Mistress of
the Bedchamber. The best man lifts the párta high up in the air at the
end of his palstave, and invites the company to bid for it, and then
recites the so-called slumber-verses, which are attentively listened to
by everyone present.
Next morning two married women from among the bride's friends arrive "to
wake the bride," who awaits them sitting in a corner. The two females
place the cap worn by married women only, on her head, and present the
young couple with cakes and a mixture of spirit and honey.
In the meantime another procession has arrived from the bride's house
with the wedding presents, and the people inquire of the Master of the
Ceremonies whether he has not seen a "pretty little golden lamb that
strayed from home and must have come here." The Master of the Ceremonies
replies in the affirmative, but before producing the "lamb" requires a
description of the stray one, and then produces some very old person
bent with age and her face covered with wrinkles, and wants to know
whether this is the lamb they seek for; of course they reply in the
negative, and add that the missing one is young and pretty. The bride is
then produced and shakes hands all round and receives presents from all
present.
In some places the wedding lasts on and off a whole week, and sometimes
ends with another ceremony of "searching for the lamb," similar to the
one just described.
Such complicated wedding ceremonies are to be found all over Hungary,
and in order to facilitate matters, the rules and verses for the
occasion are printed and sold at all country fairs, the title-page
generally representing the Master of the Ceremonies and the bridegroom's
best man in their full festive attire.[82]
Cf. Finnish, "Kulta-orit, Kulta-nuotta, wasta ja pilli." "The golden
Stallion, golden Drag-net, broom and flute." _S. ja T._ i. and "Meresta
nousija Neito," "The Sea Maid." Dasent, _Tales from the Norse_, "Bushy
Bride," p. 374.
Payne, _Arabian Nights_, vii. pp. 70, 114, and ix. p. 23.
Payne, _Arabic Tales_, iii. p. 61.
_Grimm_, "The White Bride and the Black one."
In the Lapp Story "Bondesønnen, Kongesønnen og Solens Søster." _Friis_.
It is the tail feather of a golden hen, that causes all the troubles.
The beautiful girl, who is the Sun's sister, shone like a star, and
whenever she entered a house it became as light as the brightest day,
even if before it had been pitch dark. The whole tale is a most
interesting one; the Sun's sister's sister, "Evening Red," being stolen
by giants, who are turned into stone by looking at the Sun's sister,
"Dawn." Cf. Princess Labám in "The Rájá's Son," Stokes's _Indian Fairy
Tales_, p. 158. Also, pp. 43, 50, 54, 69, and 93.
_Grimm_, "The Devil with the three golden hairs," and notes. _Dublin
Magazine_, 1868, Fireside Lore of Italy, "Corvetto." _Folk-Lore Record_,
1880. Danish Popular Tales, p. 217. "Mons Tro." Naaké, _Slavonic Fairy
Tales_, "Golden Hair," from the Bohemian.[83] _Old Deccan Days_, "Brase
Seventee Bai," p. 35; Panch-Phul Ranee, p. 141.
Haltrich, _Siebenbuergische Märchen_, pp. 61 and 171.
Mr. Ralston, in his notes in Stokes also gives the following examples of
shining and glorious beings. _Indian Antiquary_, vol. iv. p. 54; _ib._
Jan. 1875, p. 10.
Schott, _Wallachische Märchen_, p. 125.
_Mabinogion_, vol. ii. p. 310; and Thorpe, _Northern Mythology_, vol. i.
p. 47. Cf. Mailath, _Magyarische Sagen_, "Die Brüder," and "Die Gaben."
Cavallius and Stephens, _Svenska Folksagor_, No. 7.
_Records of the Past_, vol. ii. "Tales of the two Brothers," a fragrant
lock is found in the water, which is said to belong to the daughter of
the Sun God.
_Page 273._ In the Lapp story of the Sun's Sister the King will not
allow the lad to marry his bride until he has done certain tasks. So
also in the Finnish stories of the Golden Bird and the Golden Stallion.
_Page 273._ In the Finnish Tale "Totuus ja walte," the King's daughter
is cured by being washed with dew. See also Notes to Fairy Elizabeth and
the Fairies' Well in this collection.
THE LOVER'S GHOST.
As pointed by Lad. Arany, the plot of this tale is, with the exception
of the happy ending, essentially the same as in Bürger's beautiful poem,
"Leonore," in which the bridegroom's ghost repeats three times the
question--
"Graut Liebchen auch? Der Mond scheint hell!
Hurrah! Die Todten reiten schnell!
Graut Liebchen auch vor Todten?"
to which the girl each time replies--
"Ach! lass sie ruh'n, die Todten."
Arany mentions a Dutch and a Norwegian version of the same tale. Cf.
_Grimm_, vol. iii. p. 75.
It cannot be supposed that the good Palócz folk have read Bürger, either
in the original or in translation. They only read two kinds of
literature, the prayer-book and politics. Pap relates an incident that
is characteristic. He had to superintend some farm-work; and, in order
to while away the time, was reading a book, which made an old Palócz
remark that he would go straight to heaven if he read his prayer-book
all day, as he did.
Cf. The old ballad quoted in Old Ballad Lore. _Folk-Lore Record_, 1879,
pp. 111, 112.
_Page 279._ The charm given by the witch is one of the innumerable
superstitions of a like class. Vide _Magyar Folk-Tales. Notes and
Queries_, 6th s. ix. pp. 501 and 502.
_Finska Fornminnesforëningens Tidskrift_ v. p. 106, "Folkströ och
plägseder i Mellersta Österbotten," and _Notes and Queries_, 6th s. x.
p. 404, and _ib._ 6th s. xi. p. 22.
Cf. "The churchyard mould," in McGregor, _Folk-Lore of the North-East of
Scotland_, p. 216.
_Page 280._ The ghostly horsemen recalls a strange story an old woman
(nearly 80) told me some time ago, and which it is averred happened in
Lincolnshire. One fine frosty night, as the Winterton carrier was going
along the road, he met a pale man on horseback, who said, "It's a hard
winter, and there's going to be a hard time: twenty years' disease
amongst vegetables, twenty years' disease amongst cattle, and twenty
years' disease amongst men, and this will happen as surely as you have a
dead man in your cart." The carrier angrily declared that there was no
dead man in his cart. "But there is," said the horseman. Then the
carrier went and looked, and found that a man he had taken up to give a
ride was dead. Turning round he found the horseman had disappeared. The
potato disease, cattle disease, and cholera followed, said the old dame.
This pale horseman is said to have ridden through the county, and I have
heard of him at various places.
SNAKE SKIN.
In the Finnish Story, "Haastelewat Kuuset," the talking Pines, _S. ja
T._ 2: a hunter is rewarded for helping a snake. See notes to "Woman's
Curiosity," in this collection.
_Pentamerone_, "The Serpent."
_Folk-Lore Record_, 1883. "The good Serpent," a Chilian tale.
The king in this tale is angry at his daughter marrying such a husband,
just as he is in the Finnish "Hüri Morsiamena," where the bride is a
mouse.
Cf. _Grimm_, "The three Feathers;" "The poor Miller's Boy and the Cat;"
and notes thereto.
Kahn und Schwartz, _Norddentsche Sagen_, "Das weisze Kätschen."
Asbjörnsen og Moe, _Norske Folke eventyr_, "Dukken i Græsset."
Hyltén-Cavallius och Stephens, _Svenska Folksagor_, "Den förtrollade
goodan," and "Den förtrollade fästemön."
_Contes des fées par Mdme d'Aulnoy_, "La chatte blanche."
_Polnische Sagen und Märchen des K. Woycicki._ "Die Kröte."
Cf. also an interesting article by Mr. Ralston, on "Beauty and the
Beast." _Nineteenth Century._ December, 1878.
THE FAIRIES' WELL.
The chief points in this tale have already been noted in others. We may,
however, note the following: The Devil in Stephen the Murderer, p. 7, in
this collection, at once appears, when summoned, as in this tale.
_Page 290._ With regard to the _menu_ of the devil, cf.
"Here lies the carcass of a curséd sinner
Doomed to be roasted for the devil's dinner."
Poems of Robert Wilde. Strahan, 1870.
_Page 296._ There is a hunt for the father of a child in the Lapp.
"Jætten, Katten og Gutten." _Friis_. Cf. Payne, _Arabian Nights_, vii.
p. 227.
_Page 297._ Hot Bath, see p. 276, in this collection; and _Afanassieff_,
v. 23.
THE CROW'S NEST.
The following version is still known to old nurses in Holderness, where
I collected it. It is called "Orange and Lemon": "There were once a
mother and a father who had two daughters, Orange and Lemon. The mother
liked Lemon best, and the father Orange. The mother used to make Orange
do all the dirty work, as soon as the father had turned his back. One
day she sent her to fetch the milk, and said, 'If you break the pitcher
I'll kill you.' As Orange returned she fell down and broke the pitcher,
and so when she came home she hid herself in the passage. When the
mother came out she saw the broken pitcher and the girl, and took her
into the house, when the girl cried 'Oh, mother! Oh, mother! Don't kill
me!'
The mother said, 'Close the shutters in.'
'Oh, mother! Oh, mother! Don't kill me!'
'Light the candle.'
'Oh, mother! Oh, mother! Don't kill me!'
'Put the pan on.'
'Oh, mother! Oh, mother! Don't kill me!'
'Fetch the block we chop the wood on.'
'Oh, mother! Oh, mother! Don't kill me!'
'Bring the axe.'
'Oh, mother! Oh, mother! Don't kill me!'
'Put your head on the block.'
'Oh, mother! Oh, mother! Don't kill me!'
But the mother chopped off her head, and cooked it for dinner. When the
father came home, he asked what there was for dinner.
'Sheep's head,' replied the mother.
'Where's Orange?'
'Not come from school yet.'
'I don't believe you,' said the father. Then he went upstairs and found
fingers in a box; whereupon he was so overcome that he fainted. Orange's
spirit flew away to a jeweller's shop and said--
'My mother chopped my head off,
My father picked my bones,
My little sister buried me
Beneath the cold marble stones.'
They said, 'If you say that again we will give you a gold watch.' So
she said it again, and they gave her a gold watch. Then she went off to
a boot shop and said--
'My mother, &c., &c., &c.'
And they said, 'If you say it again we will give you a pair of boots.'
So she said it again, and they gave her a pair of boots. Then she went
to the stonemason's and said--
'My mother, &c., &c., &c.'
And they said, 'If you say it again we will give you a piece of marble
as big as your head.' So she said it again, and they gave her a piece of
marble as big as her head.
She took the things, and flew home, and sat at the top of the chimney,
and shouted down--
'Father! Father! come to me,
And I will show thee what I've got for thee.'
So he came, and she gave him a gold watch.
Then she shouted down--
'Sister! Sister! come to me,
And I will show thee what I've got for thee.'
So she came, and she gave her a pair of boots.
Then she shouted down--
'Mother! Mother! come to me,
And I will show thee what I've got for thee.'
The mother, who thought the others had got such nice things, put her
head right up the chimney, when the big block of marble came down and
killed her.
Then Orange came down and lived with her father and Lemon happily ever
after."
Cf. The story of the child that was murdered at Lincoln by a Jewess. See
a fragment of it quoted in Halliwell, _Nursery Rhymes_, p. 276[84].
Shouting down the chimney occurs in several Lapp stories; also in the
Finnish stories of the "Wonderful Birch" and "The Girl who seeks her
Brothers," where songs somewhat like the above-mentioned occur. Also Cf.
_Vernaleken_, "Moriandle and Sugarkandle," and Naake, _Slavonic Tales_,
"Story of the little Simpleton." A story of a somewhat similar kind is
current in Sweden. See Hofberg. _Svsnska Folksägner_, "Mylingen"[85] and
Hyltén-Cavallius _Värend och Virdarne_, ii. p. 1.
Also _Grimm_, vol. i. "The Juniper Tree" and notes, and _ib._ "The
Brother and Sister" and notes; _ib._ vol. ii. "The Lambkin and the
Little Fish," and notes.
WOMAN'S CURIOSITY. Merényi.[86]
Cf. _S. ja T._ ii. p. 73, "Haastelewat Kuuset" (the Talking Pines),
which is very like the whole story.
_Payne_, i. p. 14. Dasent, _Tales from the Norse_, ii. p. 4. Denton,
_Serbian Folk-Lore_, "The Snake's Gift." Naake, _Slavonic Tales_, "The
Language of Animals" (from the Servian), and _Grimm_, vol. ii. p. 541.
The power to understand the language of animals is often referred to in
folk-tales, _e.g. Grimm_, vol. i. "The White Snake" and note, and _ib._
vol. ii. p. 541, _et seq._
_Gubernatis_, vol. i. p. 152.
_Tales of the Alhambra_, "Legend of Prince Ahmed al Kamel."
Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, vol. i. pp. 190, 469.
The power of animals to speak still remains amongst the superstitions of
the people. In Neudorf, near Schärsburg, there is a prevalent
superstition that on new year's night--at midnight--the cattle speak,
but in a language which man may not hear, if he does so he dies. See
Boner, _Transylvania_, p. 372; and I have heard a similar story as to
their speaking (or kneeling) on Christmas Eve in Lincolnshire. Curious
remnants, too, are to be found in the doggrel rhymes of the people,
_e.g._, a few years ago I heard a woman in North Lincolnshire say,
"What do doves say?
"Croo! pee! croo!
"Gillivirens and Jackdaws lay eight or ten eggs to my poor two."
It is very interesting to compare a Finnish fragment entitled "The
Dove's Cooing" with the foregoing. A dove and a hen had each a nest, but
the dove had ten eggs and the hen only two. Then the hen began to try
and make the dove change with her. At last the dove consented, and gave
the hen her ten eggs and took her two. Soon the dove saw she had lost,
and began to repent her foolish bargain, and she still laments it, for
as soon as you hear her voice you hear her sad song,
"Kyy, Kyy, Kymmenen munaa minä,
waiwainen waihdoin tanan, kahteen munaan."
"I've foolishly bartered my ten eggs
For the hen's two!" [87]
[1] Cf. _Finska Kranier jämte några natur och literatur-studier inom
andra områden af Finsk Antropologi_ Skildrade af Prof. G. Retzius,
Stockholm, 1878, p. 121. A most valuable and interesting work which
ought to be known to all students of anthropology. See also Du Chaillu's
_Land of the Midnight Sun_, vol. ii. p. 277.
[2] Hereafter quoted as _S. ja T._
[3] This valuable collection will hereafter be quoted as _Friis_.
[4] Villon Society. London, 1884; and hereafter quoted as Payne's
_Arabian Nights_.
[5] Such a window as they had in old times: a hole with sliding door or
shutter. _Vide_ Retzius, p. 110.
[6] The bath-house is a separate building with a stove in the corner
covered with large stones which become red hot and then water is thrown
upon them which fills the house with steam. Round the sides are shelves
where the bathers (both sexes) recline, and whip themselves with
branches of birch on which the leaves have been left to die. _Retzius_,
p. 119. Cf. also _Land of the Midnight Sun_, vol. ii. p. 207.
[7] A John Twardowski is said to have been a doctor of medicine in the
university of Cracow, who, like Dr. Faust, signed a contract in his own
blood with the devil. He is said to have been wont to perform his
incantations on the mountains of Krzemionki, or on the tumulus of
Krakus, the mythic founder of Cracow. The demon was to do all the
magician bade him and to have no power over him until he met him at
Rome, where he took good care not to go. Whether this gentleman is
supposed to have ultimately become the lame fiend I know not. See
_Slavonic Folk-Lore_, by Rev. W. S. Lach-Szyrma, in _Folk-Lore Record_,
vol. iv. p. 62.
[8] A division of South Sweden washed by the Skaggerack and Kattegat.
[9] Cf. "Haastelewat Kuuset" (The Talking Pines), _S. ja T._ ii. p. 73,
where the man is about to reveal to his wife, who has been plaguing him
to tell her, why he laughed when he heard some birds twittering, and, as
this means death, he puts on all his clothes and lays himself out on a
bench. Just then the hens are let loose, and as they run about the floor
of the chamber where the man is the cock struts about and says, "Cock,
cocko, cock, cocko! See, I have fifty wives and govern them all; the
master has only one and can't manage her, therefore the fool is going to
die." The man heard that, got up and kept his secret. Animals' language
must not be revealed. Cf. Benfey, _Ein Märchen von der Thiersprachen_ in
_Orient und Occident_. Naake's _Slavonic Tales_, Servian story of the
Language of Animals, 71-99; and "Woman's Curiosity," p. 301, in the
present volume.
[10] _Old Deccan Days_, "Rama and Luxman," p. 66.--Thorpe's _Yule-Tide
Stories_, "Svend's Exploits," p. 343.--_Grimm_, "Faithful John," vol. i.
p. 33, and Notes, p. 348.--"Secret-Keeping Little Boy," p. 233, in this
volume.
[11] Near the bath-house (_vide supra_, p. 308) is the kiln to dry corn,
a most important building in the Finnish farmstead. It is built of wood
like the bath-house. On one side of the doorway is a stove (built of
stones, see _Land of the Midnight Sun_, vol. ii. p. 274, where there are
illustrations of somewhat similar stoves or ovens), that gives out a
great heat and _smoke_, which fills the inside of the building,
especially the upper part. This "ria" or kiln is used to dry the corn
in. All Finnish rye is dried in this way. _Retzius_, p. 120.
[12] Ruobba, scurfy skull, or Gudnavirus, _i.e._ Ashiepattle.
[13] Cf. _Dasent_: "Boots and His Brothers," p. 382, where Boots finds
an axe hewing away at a fir tree, and a spade digging and delving by
itself, and by their means he got the princess and half the kingdom.
[14] Wagner's _Asgard_, p. 208. Roman intruders are called "the Roman
dragon, the bane of Asgard." Wagner's _Epics and Romances_, "the
Nibelung," p. 3; "the Dragonstone," p. 243. Henderson's _Folk-Lore of
the Northern Counties_, p. 283.
[15] Professor Ebers says: "Red was the colour of Seth and Typhon. The
Evil One is named the Red, as, for instance, in the papyrus of Ebers
red-haired men were _typhonic_." See "Uarda," note on p. 58. Red-haired
people are still in some parts looked on as unlucky to meet when going
to sea, or as "first foot." See also Black's _Folk-Medicine_, pp.
111-113. According to a Magyar jingle:
"A red dog; a red nag; a red man; none is good!"
[16] A finger song, common, with slight variations, in Sweden, Norway,
and Denmark, and Swedish speaking people in Finland. Cf. Yorkshire--
Tom Thumbkins, Bill Wilkins,
Long Daniel, Bessy Bobtail,
And Little Dick.
See Halliwell's _Nursery Rhymes_, p. 206.
[17] It is interesting to note the finger-lore of the people, _e.g._
_Gubernatis_, vol. i. 166, says: "The little finger, although the
smallest, is the most privileged of the five." It is the one that knows
everything; in Piedmont, when the mothers wish to make the children
believe that they are in communication with a mysterious spy, who sees
everything that they do, they are accustomed to awe them by the words,
"my little finger tells me everything." See also vol. ii. p. 151.
In Holderness, Yorkshire, it is a common superstition that if you pinch
anyone's little finger when they are asleep, they will tell you their
secrets; or, as some say, "if you can bear your little finger pinching
you can keep a secret." If you see a white horse, spit over your little
finger for luck. Schoolboys make their bargains irrevocable by spitting
over their little fingers.[A] In Petalaks (a parish in East Bothnia,
about twenty miles from Wasa) every one believes in a "bjero"[B] or
"mjero," which is one respect resembles Sampo in Kalevala, insomuch as
he brings good luck to his possessor. Sometimes he looks like a ball of
yarn, but more often like a hare. The way he is manufactured is as
follows:--A wafer spared from the Communion, some wool stolen from seven
cow-houses on Maundy Thursday, and a drop of blood from the _little
finger_ of the left hand. During the performance the manufacturer must
curse and swear without ceasing. The wool is to be spun on Easter morn
when the sun dances; the thread to be wrapped round the wafer, and the
whole put in the churn. Whilst churning, the spellmaker sings, "Milk and
butter thou must bring to me; I shall burn in hell-fire for thee." After
a time the "bjero" springs out, and asks, "What will you give me to
eat?" "Raisins and almonds," is the reply. And all is complete. See
_Suomen Muinaismusto-yhtiön Aikakauskirja_, ii.; _Helsingissa_, 1877, p.
133; _Vidskepelser insamlade bland allmogan i Petalaks_, 1874; _Skrock
och vidskepliga bruk hos svenska allmogen i Vasabygden_. Af. Prof.
Freudenthal, _Helsingfors_, 1883, p. 8; and Rink's _Tales and Traditions
of the Eskimo_, p. 440.
[A] Cf. Tylor's Primitive Culture, vol. i. p. 103; vol. ii. p. 439-441.
[B] _Några åkerbruksplägseder bland svenskarne i Finland_, af. dr. J.
Oscar Rancken, pp. 17, 24, 32.
[18] Tegnér: Prologen till Gerda.
[19] See variants given in _Henderson's Folk-Lore of the Northern
Counties_, pp. 258, 262.
Cf. Riddle set to three soldiers by the devil, and found out by the help
of his grandmother. _Grimm_, vol. ii. pp. 152, 425. Also, _Vernaleken_,
p. 206.
[20] A similar plant occurs in "The Merchant," in the _Pentamerone_.
[21] Taylor's Edition. London. 1848.
[22] Of the word "devil" one cannot do better than quote Mr. Ralston's
words: "The demon rabble of 'popular tales' are merely the lubber fiends
of heathen mythology, being endowed with supernatural might, but
scantily provided with mental power; all of terrific manual clutch, but
of weak intellectual grasp." Cf. _Castrén, Finsk Mytologi_, p. 163.
[23] A similar tale still exists in Holderness under the name of "The
Glass Stairs."
[24] _Morte d'Arthur_, book I, cap. iii. tells how "in the greatest
church in London, there was seen in the churchyard a great stone
foursquare, and in the midst thereof was like an anvil of steel a foot
on high, and therein stuck a fair sword naked by the point, and letters
there were written in gold about the sword that said thus: whoso pulleth
out this sword of this stone and anvil is rightwise king born of all
England." Which sword was drawn out by Sir Arthur. Cf. book 2, cap. i.
where a maiden comes girt with a sword, that no one could pull out but
the poor knight Balin.
[25] This man-eating being was said to be something like a very big and
mighty man, and was to be found in waste places. He was generally
dressed in a white coat, with a silver belt round his waist, from which
hung a silver-hafted knife, and a great many silver ornaments. He was
exceedingly stupid, and the butt of Gudnavirucak. (Ashiepattle) They
were probably nothing more than the old Vikings, and Stallo is thought
to be derived from "Staalmanden," or men dressed in steel (Lapp,
_staale_ = steel).
[26] Cf. _Grimm_, "The Three Sons of Fortune," i. p. 291.
[27] I have heard similar stories amongst the peasants in Flanders.
[28] The magpie is an important bird in folk-belief, and Swedish
peasants say you must not kill it lest it be a troll in disguise as in
this story. If they build in a house it is a sign of luck; if in the
fields and come to the house and laugh, woe be to the house.
[29] Cf. Amelia Ferrier, _A Winter in Morocco_, p. 172, _et seq_.
[30] It is curious that the Magyar word for a marriageable girl, "eladó
leány," also means "a girl for sale."
[31] In old times in Finland, a "spokesman" used to go beforehand to the
girl, in order to find out whether the young man was likely to be
acceptable. Cf. Scheffer, _The History of Lapland_. London, 1751, p. 71;
and Boner, _Transylvania_, p. 488.
[32] "Given the basket:" in Finland the same phrase is used. Cf. the
English phrase, "to give the sack."
[33] Cf. Note to "Handsome Paul," p. 317, _ante_.
[34] In the Russian Church there are two distinct services, which are
performed at the same time, the "betrothal" when rings are given and
exchanged, and the "coronation." Lansdell, _Through Siberia_, vol. i. p.
168.
[35] Cf. Denton, _Serbian Folk-Lore_, p. 205.
[36] Cf. this with the Finnish "bride-dresser," who looked after the
bride's toilette, even providing the necessary dresses if the girl did
not possess them.
[37] See Scotch "feetwashing," _Folk-Lore of North-East Scotland_;
Folk-Lore Society, p. 89. In Finland, before a wedding, the friends of
the bridegroom-elect invite to a party, which is called the "bachelor's
funeral," at which he is oftentimes carried on a sofa shoulder-high as a
mock funeral.
[38] The royal Hungarian bodyguard wear leopard-skins clasped with
silver buckles.
[39] I have heard of racing for ribbons, &c., at weddings in Yorkshire;
and of young men racing home from the church to tell the good folk at
home that the marriage was _un fait accompli_. Cf. Napier, _Folk-Lore_,
p. 49, and _Henderson_, p. 37.
[40] A remain of the marriage by force. Vámbéry notes the existence of
this amongst the Turkomans. The bride's door in Transylvania is often
locked, and the bridegroom has to climb over; or sometimes he has to
chase her, and catch her: _Boner_, p. 491. Cf. also _Tissot_, vol. i. p.
94; _Scheffer_, p. 75; Gilmour, _Among the Mongols_, p. 259; _Napier_,
p. 50.
[41] For accounts of English wedding-feasts in the north, see Sykes'
_Local Records_, Newcastle-on-Tyne, 1833, vol. i. pp. 194, 205, 209.
[42] The vizier's daughter is displayed in seven dresses in the story of
"Noureddin Ali of Cairo, and his son Bedreddin Hassan": Payne's _Arabian
Nights_, vol. i. pp. 192-194. And in old times the brides in Japan
changed their dress three to five times during the ceremony: Mitford,
_Tales of Old Japan_, p. 370.
[43] Cf. _Lappbönder, Skildringar Sägner och sagor från Södra Lappland_.
af. P. A. Lindholm, p. 89.
_Fra Finmarken. Friis_, ("Laila" in S.P.C.K. translation), cap. xi.
Dancing the crown off the bride in Finland. See "A Finnish wedding in
the olden times." _Notes and Queries_, 6th s. x. p. 489.
They cut the long hair off the Saxon brides in Transylvania; and in
Spain, when the bride goes to her bedroom, the young unmarried men
unloose her garter.
Just as in our land old shoes are thrown after the bride when she leaves
home, and never matter how they fall, or how young relatives batter the
backs of bride and bridegroom with aged slippers, you must not _look
back_: so they say in Holderness, at least. The sumptuary laws of
Hamburg of 1291, enacted that the bridegroom should present his bride
with a pair of shoes. According to Grimm, when the bride put the shoe on
her foot it was a sign of her subjection. (Boner, _Transylvania_, p.
491). See old Jewish custom, _Rath_. iv. 7.
See also _Napier_, p. 53, where he refers to the Grecian custom of
removing the bride's coronet and putting her to bed.
Henderson, _Folk-Lore of Northern Counties_, pp. 36, 37, 42.
Aubrey, _Remains of Gentilisme_, Folk-Lore Society, p. 173.
Gregor, _Folk-Lore of North-East of Scotland_, pp. 96, 100.
[44] From a paper read before the Hungarian Historical Society, by Baron
Béla Radvánszky, on Feb. 1st, 1883; Cf. _A magyar csalàdi èlet a_ xv.
_es_ xvi. _szàzadban_, by the same author.
Cf. Tissot, _Unknown Hungary_, vol. i. p. 227.
Boner, _Transylvania_, pp. 488-495.
Fagerlund, _Anteckningar om Korpo och Houtskärs Socknar_, Helsingfors,
1878, p. 42.
_Lindholm_, "Ett bondbröllop," p. 86; and "Ett lappbröllop," p. 91.
[45] Laulu Lapista.
[46] See also Swedish Songs in Du Chaillu, _Land of the Midnight Sun_,
vol. ii. p. 424.
[47] Cf. another group of stories, where trouble comes from the advice
of those at home, such as _Dasent_, "East o' the Sun, and West o' the
Moon," p. 29; _Afanassieff_, vol. vii. No. 15, and "Cupid and Psyche,"
see also notes to "The Speaking Grapes, &c." in this collection.
[48] Cf. _Rerum Moscoviticarum Commentarii_ by the Baron Sigismund von
Herberstein. London, 1852. (Hakluyt Soc.) vol. ii. pp. 46 _et seq_.
[49] _Untersuchungen zur Erläuterung der ältesten Geschichte Russlands._
St. Petersburg. 1806.
[50] Loc. cit.
[51] Cf. Hunfalvy Pál, _Magyarország Ethnographiája_. Budapest. 1876.
chap. 41.
[52] _Notes and Queries_, 7th S. ii. pp. 110, 111.
[53] Cf. also, _Folk-Lore Record_. 1879, p. 121; _Gesta Romanorum_, "The
Knight and the Necromancer;" _Records of the Past_, vol. i. p. 136.
"Tablet V."; Rink, _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, p. 302; and
Leland, _The Gipsies_, p. 159, where we are told gipsies object to
having their photographs taken unless you give them a shoe-string.
[54] _Magyar Népmeséinkröl_ in the _Kisfaludy Társaság évlapjai_. New
Series iv. p. 146.
[55] A Worcestershire woman told the writer that she had a nephew born
with a caul, and when he was at the point of death it became quite
moist.
[56] The Csángós are Magyar settlers in Moldavia; they are now assisted
to return to Hungary by the Government. This story is told of the feud
between two races. There are others which strike off the characteristics
of neighbouring races, such as the story of the angels, current in
Hungary, which is as follows:--
When Adam and Eve fell, God sent Gabriel, the Magyar angel, to turn them
out of the garden of Eden. Adam and his wife received him most
courteously, and most hospitably offered him food and drink. Gabriel had
a kind heart, and took pity on them. He was too proud to accept any
hospitality from them, as he did not consider it quite the right thing.
So he returned to the Deity, and begged that somebody else should be
sent to evict the poor couple, as he had not the heart to do it.
Whereupon Raphael, the Roumanian angel, was sent, who was received and
treated by Adam and Eve in like manner. He, however, was not above a
good dinner, and having finished, he informed the couple of the purpose
of his coming. The two thereupon began to cry, which so mollified
Raphael that he returned to his Master, and begged Him to send some one
else, as he could not very well turn them out after having enjoyed their
hospitality. So Michael, the German angel, was sent, and was treated as
the others. He sat down to a sumptuous meal, and when the last morsel of
food had disappeared, and the last drop of liquor was drained, he rose
from the table, and, addressing the host and hostess said, "Now then,
out you go!" and the poor couple, though they cried most pitifully and
begged hard to be allowed to remain, were cruelly turned out of the
garden of Eden. See Arany's collection.
[57] The mound was opened in 1870, and found to contain bones.
[58] As late as 1875, a farmer near Mariestad buried a cow alive, upon
disease breaking out in his herd. See also _Contemporary Review_, Feb.
1878, "Field and Forest Myths," p. 528, "Within the last few years, at
least one Russian peasant has been known to sacrifice a poor relation in
hopes of staying an epidemic."
[59] I heard this story again the other day in South Lincolnshire.
[60] Remains of a Roman camp near Brocklesby.
[61] Vide _A History of the County of Lincoln_. By the author of _The
Histories of London, Yorkshire, Lambeth, &c. &c._ London and Lincoln:
John Saunders gent., 1834.
[62] Boswell's _Variorum Edition of Shakespeare_, vii. pp. 162, 163.
[63] "Prince Unexpected." _Folk Lore Record_, 1884, p. 10.
[64] Cf. Lion Bruno. _Folk Lore Record_, 1878, p. 209.
[65] See Ralston's "Beauty and the Beast" in _The 19th Century_,
December, 1878.
[66] In "The Raksha's Palace" in the same work, p. 203, the young
princess found "the skeleton of a poor old beggar-woman, who had
evidently died from want and poverty. The princess took the skin and
washed it, and drew it over her own lovely face and neck, as one draws a
glove on one's hand."
[67] The giant who demands human flesh of his wife, and the giantess who
has only one eye in the middle of her forehead, are proofs of the
foreign origin of this tale.
[68] See p. 340 _ante_.
[69] Ruobba, or Gudnavirũs, _i. e._ scurfy skull, is the Lapp for
Ashiepattle. See "Jætten og Veslegutten," _Friis_.
[70] See note, vol. i. p. 407.
[71] _The Death of Dermid_, by Ferguson, may also be compared. Where the
hero is slain by the envenomed bristle piercing his foot. For this part
of the poem, vide _Dublin Magazine_, 1868, p. 594.
[72] See p. 335, _ante_.
[73] The witch's daughter in the "Two Orphans" is lame of one foot. See
p. 221.
[74] There is a curious tale of a relation of my own who was popularly
said to be able to cure people of ague by going to a thorn and shaking
while she said: "Shake, good tree, shake for So-and-so," and then the
disease fled. I have heard that the good old dame was herself always
very ill after this operation. The hanging of a lock of hair on a tree,
I presume, was understood to be the same as taking the afflicted person
to the tree.
[75] See also another Lapp tale, "Haccis Ædne." _Notes and Queries_, 7th
s. ii. Aug. 7, 1886.
[76] I have often had this tale told to me by my nurse when a child, and
heard the following version a short time ago in Holderness, and was
informed it had been told thus for ages: "There was a stepmother who was
very unkind to her stepdaughter and very kind to her own daughter; and
used to send her stepdaughter to do all the dirty work. One day she sent
her to the pump for some water when a little frog came up through the
sink and asked her not to pour dirty water down, as his drawing-room was
there. So she did not, and as a reward he said pearls and diamonds
should drop from her mouth when she spoke. When she returned home it
happened as he said; and the step-mother, learning how it had come
about, sent her own daughter to the pump. When she got there the little
frog spoke to her and asked her not to throw dirty water down, and she
replied "Oh! you nasty, dirty little thing, I won't do as you ask me."
Then the frog said "Whenever you speak frogs, and toads, and snakes
shall drop from your mouth." She went home and it happened as the frog
had said. At night when they were sitting at the table a little voice
was heard singing outside--
"Come bring me my supper,[A]
My own sweet, sweet one."
When the step-daughter went to the door there was the little frog. She
brought him in in spite of her step-mother; took him on her knee and fed
him with bits from her plate. After a while he sang
"Come, let us go to bed,
My own sweet, sweet one."
So, unknown to her step-mother, she laid him at the foot of her bed, as
she said he was a poor, harmless thing. Then she fell asleep and forgot
all about him. Next morning there stood a beautiful prince, who said he
had been enchanted by a wicked fairy and was to be a frog till a girl
would let him sleep with her. They were married, and lived happily in
his beautiful castle ever after." This is one of the few folk-stories I
have been able to collect from the lips of a living story-teller in
England.
[A] There is a traditional air to which these lines are always sung.
[77] See also notes in the Introduction.
[78] There is a similar incident in _Grimm_, "The Sea Hare," where a fox
changes himself by dipping in a spring.
[79] In Finland they say that if two persons shake hands across the
threshold they will quarrel. In East Bothnia, when the cows are taken
out of their winter quarters for the first time, an iron bar is laid
before the threshold, over which all the cows must pass, for if they do
not, there will be nothing but trouble with them all the following
summer. Cf. _Suomen Muinaismuisto Yhdistyksen Aikakauskirja_, v. p. 99.
[80] On entering a house, especially a royal house, it is improper to
use the _left_ foot on first stepping into it; one must "put one's best
(or right) foot foremost." Malagasy Folk-Lore, p. 37. _Folk-Lore Record_
1879.
[81] The "párta" is a head-dress worn by unmarried women only, in the
shape of a "diadem" of the ancients in silk, satin, or velvet, and
generally embroidered
[82] Cf. p. 365 _ante_.
[83] Cf. Gerll, Volksmärchen der Böhmen, "Die Goldene Ente."
[84] See also _Folk-Lore Record_, 1879, "Old Ballad Folk-Lore," pp. 110,
111.
[85] Myling, myring, or myrding generally means the ghost of a murdered
person.
[86] Arany says he dare not accept the collection from which this story
is taken for scientific purposes, as Merényi has drawn very liberally on
his own imagination.
[87] _S. ja T._ iii. "Pienempiä Eläin-jutun katkelmia," p. 37. The whole
of the Finnish beast stories are most interesting, and the resemblance
in many cases to the negro variants in _Uncle Remus_ very striking.
INDEX.
Acorn, magic growth of [Jack and the Beanstalk incident], 146, 388
Age of giants, xxix.
----, hero grows old in his travels, 107
Agricultural, xli., see "plough"
Agriculture, giants' dislike of, xxviii.
Ague, cure for, 403
Allegorical story, 91-95
Alligator in Serbian folk-lore, 325
American Indians, folk-tales quoted, 364
---- notions of, as to dreams, 376
Ananci folk-tales, quoted, 379, 394
Angels, allegory of, 93
Animal superstitions, lx-lxiii.
Animals, grateful, assistance by, 158, 160, 249, 303-306, 323, 342, 371,
373, 374, 384, 392, 409
----, king of the, 106-107, 108
----, language of, 301, 421-422
----, magic, in service of fairies, xxxiii.
----, marriage of, with human beings, 225
----, sacrifice of, to stay the plague, 381
---- servants, 111
---- skins of, worn at Magyar weddings, 367
----, witch's life contained in, 205
----, &c., transformation of, into human beings, see "boy," "eagles,"
"falcon," "fish," "horses," "mares," "pig," "pigeons," "oranges,"
"snake"
Anthony's (St.) fire, cure for, xlix.
Apple, castle transformed into, 74, 247, 248, 353
---- smiling, 130
Apple tree, miraculous growth of, 11
Apricot, tinkling, 130
Arabian folk-tales, quoted, 381
_Arabian Nights_, quoted, 347, 352, 353, 355, 360, 362, 364, 368, 371,
375, 377, 389, 392, 395, 396, 400, 402, 406, 408, 415, 418
Argilus and Helen, story of, 345
Árpád, the founder of modern Hungary, viii.
Arrow, shooting of, as test of strength, 120
_Arthur, morte d'_, quoted, 351, 352
Ashes, strewed, used for finding way through forest, 145
---- (house), youngest brother sits among, 97
Asia, migration from, into Europe, viii.
Assembly of the giants, xxix.
Astronomy superstitions, lxiv.
Attila, conquest of Hungary by, vii.
----, story of, quoted, 342
Austrian folk-tales quoted, 370
Avaricious, allegory of the, 94
Avars, ethnology of, x.
Baa-lambs (the), story-title, 90-95
Bachelors' funeral at Magyar weddings, 367
Bædnag-njudne, giant beings, Lapp, 340
Bag which never gets full, 141
Baptism, allegory of unbaptised children, 94
Basket, to give the, that is to dismiss, Magyar, 366
Bath used to produce youthfulness, 110, 349
Bathing custom in Hungary, 308
Bathing in mare's milk, task set hero, 276
Bathing of fairy maidens, 101
Battlefields, silver and copper, created for fighting, 349
Battles, legends of, in Lincolnshire, 382
Beanstalk (Jack) parallel incident, 146, 388
Beating of wife, story incident, 23
Beauty, delicate skin a feature of, 354
Beauty and beast stories, 385
Bed, Madeys, devils dread, Slavonic tale, 310
Bede (St.), well of, at Jarrow, 373
Bees, assistance of, to hero, 153
----, honey brought by, restores life, 374
Beetles, witch's life and power contained in, 205
Beggar character in story helps hero, 251
Beggar's presents, story of, 161-163
Bells, church, ringing of, a hero-task, 228-229
Bells, magic, in giant assemblies, xxix.
Belt, strength-giving, 353
Berries, youth-giving qualities of, 373
Betrothal in Magyar marriage, 366
Bible quoted, 375, 411
Biblical characters, see "God," "Joseph," "Peter"
Birds having power to restore youth, 251
----, hero transforms himself into, 286
----, iron, made alive by hero's singing, 317
----, leading of hero by, 99; carrying of hero by, 108-109
----, enticing of boys by, 362
----, hero assisted by, 201, 249
----, moral rebuke by, 20
Birth, signs of luck at, 120
Black, colour of the giants, xxx.
---- cloth, town draped in, 374
Blindness, cure for, in story incident, 37; by mud from well, 152
Blood flowing from finger post sign of disaster, 257
----, human, wine mixed with, 121
---- letting for restoration to life, 344
---- stains, indelible, 125, 382
Blood feud, incident, Arabian nights, 360
Blowing upon wound to heal, 95
Blue Beard incidents, 129, 383
Blue cross, hero changed to, on divulging secret, 314
Bohemian folk-tales, quoted, 323
Boiling skull with millet seed used as omen, 279
Bones, human, hatched by crow, 299
---- of boy collected by sister, 299
----, skeleton, miraculous joining of scattered, 12
Boy killed for dinner by mother, 298
Boy who could not shiver nor shake, type story, 228-232
Bramble, dragon's wife takes form of, 202
Bread, operation of making, used as story incident, 79
Breathing on old things, causes change, 349
Bridal customs, Magyar, 365
Bride, false, given to prince, 214
----, gipsy personates, 214
Bride-capture, evidence of, Magyar, 366, 368; Palócz, 413, 414
---- and pursuit, story incident, 32-35
----, symbolic customs representing, 369
Bride purchase, evidence of, Magyar, 365
Bridges, fights between hero and dragon, on, 199-201
----, in folk-tales, 399
---- of copper, silver, and gold, 64, 196; of gold, 74
Britain, Teutonic conquest of, xi.
Britanny, were-wolves, 344
Brocklesby, Roman camp near, Lincolnshire, 382
Broom, red hot, ridden by witch to pursue hero, 273
---- seller, story character, 22
Brothers, elder, separate from hero on journey, 257
Brothers, three, story title, 152-154
Brothers and sisters, marriage of, 137
Brush, used as obstacle to pursuit of hero, 160
Building, immuration during, 376-377
Building legends, 333-334
Bulgarians, origin of, xiii.
Bullet, magic, to kill a giant, xxx.
Bullocks with gilt horns, roasted at Magyar weddings, 367
Bulls used for rescuing treasure, 405
Burial feasts, 370
Cake, hero shares with beggar, 252
----, millet, used in story incident, 28-29
Cakes made with woman's milk, 379
Cannibalism, 25, 352, 388-389, 403
Cannibal-giant story character, 25
Cannibal-man in Lapp stories, 352
Castle built by magical command, 16
---- built and inhabited by fairies, xxxv.-xxxvi.
---- built by giants, xxvii.
---- turned into golden apple, 206, 247
---- weeping and laughing, 409
Cat, accompanies hero, 258
----, a servant of fairies, xxxiii.
Cat, the lazy, story title, 23-25, 317
----, troll, 346
----, witches assume the shape of xli.
Cataract, cure for, xlviii.
Cats, witch's carriage drawn by, 204
Caul, superstition as to being born with, 378
Caves as the haunts of fairies, xxxvii.
Caves, the three, riddle solved by hero, 259
Changed bride incident in folk tales, 386
Chap-books, xx.
Chapel and hermit, pursued heroine and hero turn themselves into, 33
Charitable (the) allegory of, 94
Charles XI., legend of, 381
Charming, fairy means of, xxxiii.
Charms, singing, used for restoration of life, 341
Chest, magic, incident in folk-tales, 401
Child, first-born, dedication to devil, 7, 189, 384
Child-marriage incident, 80
"Child born to be a King" type stories, 307-309
Children, substitution of, xlv., 52
Children's rhymes, Cumanian, xvi.
Chopping, symbolic action of, for cure of wrist disease, 332
Christ, _see_ "God."
Christianity, influence of, on folk-tales, xx., xl.
Christmas customs, li.
Church building legends, 333-334
Church to be built in one night task set heroine, 193
Church, heroine takes form of, 194
----, youth-giving bird kept in, 259
Church bells, ringing of, task of hero, 228-229
Church marriage, 4, 7
Cinder Jack, story title, 149-152
Cinderella incident occurring with hero, 97, 150; with heroine, 148; in
folk-tales, 207-216, 389
Cinders, burning, drop from devil's hair, 192
Clan feuds, Lincolnshire, 382
Cloak given to hero for singing, 299
----, giving power of invisibility to its wearer, 141
----, giving power to transport wearer to any place, 156
Cloth, magic, provides food, 161
Clothes, stealing of fairy maiden's, 101
Club, used by giant for killing, 11
----, magic fighting, 162
Coachman, King's, hero takes service as, 270
Cock, a servant of fairies, xxxiii.
----, crowing of, good omen, 213
----, iron, on spire, in story incident, 42
----, lesson taught by, 301
----, red, accompanies hero, 259
Cock-crow, devils disappear at, 37
----, means of getting rid of ghost, 282
College, hero's attendance at, 7, 59
Constantinople, St. Sophia, blood stains at, 382
Cooking, methods alluded to, 30
Copper bridge, dragon's home near, 196, 199
---- forest, 388
---- objects used in story incidents, 2, 28, 31, 40, 61, 78, 142, 150
Corn, Finnish method of drying, 315.
Cornish folk-lore, 349
---- wells, 373
Corpse assists ghost to find bride, 282
Cosmogony, tales dealing with, 375-376
Cottele on the Tamar, blood-stains at, 382
Cotton as a clew to find way out of thicket, 144
Count's daughter, the, story-title, 127-130
Country inhabited by lions and wolves, 189, 195
Cramp, cure for, xlix.
Cray-fish in story incident, 84
Cripple, cure for, in story incident, 37
Cromwell, battles attributed to, 382
Crow assists hero in fight with dragon, 201
---- hatches bones of boy, 299
Crow's nest, story title, 298-301
Crutch sticks given to hero for singing, 300
Csabor Ur, story title, 123-125
Csángós, Magyar settlers in Moldavia, 380
----, origin of the, xv.
Csihan, Prince, story title, 1-6; notes to story, 303-306
Cuchulaiun, story of, quoted, 348
Cumanians, origin of the, xv.-xvi.
Cumberland wells, 373
Curry-comb, used as obstacle to pursuit of hero, 160
Curse of oblivion, 321-322
Dances, wedding, 104-105
Dancing, caused by flute, 13-15
---- fairy, xxxiv. 143
Danish folk-tales quoted, 306, 324, 334, 355, 401
Daughters, king ill-using, 288
---- of witch, mares till nightfall, 159
Dawn, as story character, 42
Dawn and night, tying up of, in folk-tales, 326
Days of the week, xlix.
Death cured by magic orange, 156
---- in equalled with sleep, 374
---- personification of, as story character, 82
---- sign of, to three brothers on adventure, 55; superstition, 403
---- (sudden) penalty for telling secret, 301
Death superstitions, xlix.
Deception as to birth of prince during king's absence, 335-338
Deer, brother of heroine transformed into, 221
Devil and the Red Cap, story title, 226-228
---- and the Three Slovac lads, story title, 126-127
---- and the King, story title, 188-195
"Devil with three golden hairs," Finnish variant of, 310
Devil carries off corpse from gallows, 289
---- carries off girls, 288
---- construction of road by, xxxvi.
---- conversations of, overheard, story incident, 37
---- dedication of first child to, 7, 189, 384
---- helps king to find game, 189
---- personates hero, 226
---- use of the word 346
---- son of, helps heroine to escape devil, 192
Devils marry sisters of hero, 288
---- used for carrying out magical commands, 27
Devonshire, Cottele on the Tamar, blood-stains at, 382
Dew, at Friday's new moon, used for cure of blindness, 37
Dew, healing powers of, 322, 416
---- St. John's Day, properties of, 392
Diamond, brought by fox to hero, 2
---- castle, the light of Hades, 68; abode of giant, 71
---- horse-shoe nails, used by hero, 68
Dissemination of folk-tales, causes of, xxi.
Doctor, successful, story incident, 83, 138
Dog, faithful, in folk-tales, 402
----, kissing of hero by, causes oblivion, 322
---- lungs and liver of, given instead of heroine's, 182
Doghead, story character, 70
Dogheaded Tartars, 118
---- people, xx., 377-378
Dragon, sacrifice of virgin to, 112, 374
---- milk of, 409; horse fed on, 252
Dragons devouring human beings, 196
----, pursuing devils take form of, 195
----, slain by three princes, story incident, 41, 199-201 247, 248
----, used for carrying out magical commands, 16, 78
----, when defeated vomiting lads they had swallowed, 197
Drawing of object on the ground, magic powers of, 370
Dream of hero _raison d'être_ of story, 233
Dream-books, 376
Dreams obviate the curse of forgetfulness, 35; importance of in
misfortune, 120
Dreams, three, story title 117-123
Dress, fairy, stealing of, to secure bride, 101; losing of, gives power
of escape to fairy bride, 105
Dresses, wedding, among the Magyars, 368
Drink, enchanted, causes oblivion, 321
---- customs, lxviii.
Drowning of devils when pursuing heroine, 195
Drugging hero's wine by witch, 253, 254, 255
Duck, gold, heroine transformed into, 214, 402
---- silver, devil's son takes form of, 195
Dust, figures drawn in, come to life, 103, 104
Dutch witchcraft, 343
Dwarf, assistance to heroine by, 47
---- outwits strong men, 245, 246
Eagle, pursuing-father takes the form of, 32, 33
Earthenware pot, skull boiled in, used to obtain news of lover, 279
Eating taboo, 9
Egg (black) presented to hero by fairy godmother, 197
Egyptian story quoted, 340, 341, 400
Eldest brother hero of tale, 262-277
Elk, coffin of heroine, carried about by, 174
---- with gold and silver hairs in Russian story, 304
Embroidery, an occupation of the fairies, xxxiv.
Enchantment by spitting, 395
English folk-tales, quoted, 354, 356, 360, 383, 396, 404, 406
Envious sisters, story title, 49-54
Epilepsy, cures for, xlviii.
Eskimo folk-tales quoted, 331, 341, 362, 363, 364, 375, 386, 387, 389,
391, 393, 400, 408, 411
Esthonian folk-tales quoted, 326
Ethnology of giants in Magyar folk-lore, xxvi., xxviii.
---- of Hungary, viii.
Ewe, hero suckled by, 244
Executioner, functionary at a wedding, 303
Eye in forehead, giantess with, 146
Eye, one, monster, 388
Eyes, affection of, story incident, 59
Eyes of King unlike each other, _raison d'être_ of story, 250
Eye-sight restored by herb, 322
Fairies in Magyar folk-lore, xxxii-xl.
Fairies, marriage of, with the giants, xxix.
----, descent of witches from, xli.
Fairies' well, youth-giving water from, 289
Fairies' well, story title, 288
Fairy dancing, 142
Fairy Elizabeth, story title, 95-110
Fairy godmother, present from, to hero, 197
Fairy, house, origin of, 136
"Faithful John," variants of, 313-315
Falcon, shooting at, story incident, 40
Falcon, pursuing mother takes the form of, 33
False champion, story character, 43, 112
Falsehood, personification of, story character, 36
Family feuds, Lincolnshire, 382
Family life of the fairies, xxxvii.
Farmer, story character, 7
Farming life in story incident, 80
Father eats flesh of his boy, 298
---- murdered by son in Finnish story, 307
---- throws knives and forks to frighten hero, 251
Father's (my) wedding, story title, 86-90
Faust type stories, 306-312
Fays, kissing by, causes oblivion, 322
Fear, hero unable to learn, 228
----, shown by pillows dropping from the seat, 45, 114
Feather picking festival, 215
---- picking, peasant occupation, 402
Feathers, copper, gold and silver, from tail of wood grouse in Karelian
story, 305
Feet, silver, child born with, 337
---- washing at weddings in Scotland, 367
Feet and hands of hero renewed by rubbing with blood and dust, 261
Feuds, clan or family, Lincolnshire, 382
Fight between hero and dragons, 199, 200, 201, 247, 248
Finger-lore, 331
Finger-post as trysting place for hero and brothers, 257
Finger songs, 330
Finn giant beings, 340
Finnish folk-tales, quoted, 307, 314-315, 318, 321, 323, 324, 326, 328,
329, 331, 332, 334, 335, 337, 342, 346, 347, 349, 350, 352, 353, 355,
356, 372, 373, 374, 379, 384, 385, 386, 389-390, 392, 393, 396, 399,
401, 402, 403, 404, 407, 409, 410, 411, 414, 416, 421
---- marriage custom, 365, 369
---- names for stars, 410
Fire, ever-burning, story incident, 41
Fire camp, in story incident, 99
---- customs, liv., lviii., see "hearth"
Fire, obtained by youngest brother, 40
Firpole ridden by witch to pursue hero, 272
Fish, gold, princess turns into, when pushed into well, 135
----, king of, assists hero in task, 252, 254
----sung out of lake by hero, 316
----, transformation of, into lovely girl, 16
----, witch's daughters change to, 254
Fisher Joe, notes to, 313
---- story title, 15-22
Fishing, story incident, 16
Flame, red, dragon takes form of, 201
Flame, white, hero takes form of, 201
Flattery, applied to witches, 400
Flint, falling from falcons' rock, story incident, 40
Flint hoop, dragon takes form of, 201
Flintshire wells, 373
Flower gardens belonging to the fairies, xxxvii.
Fluid, strength-giving, 353
Flute, powers of, to compel dancing, 13-15
Flying, power of, by giants, xxx.
Foal, half rotten, of hero, demands for wages for performing tasks, 252
----, magic power of, 263; helps hero, 263-277
Foals, the three, riddle solved by hero, 240
Folk-tales, origin of, xix.
Food, enchanted, causes oblivion, 321
----, magic supply of, 284
Forbidden chamber stories, 326, 384
Forest, filling of, by devils, 28; clearing of, for ploughing, 96
Forgetfulness, curse of, story incident, 34
Formulae, conjuring, of the fairies, xxxiv.
Fortunatus' story, 141
Foundation sacrifice, 376-377
Foundling child becomes hero of tale, 244
Fox, a story character, 1, 316
---- in Russian Puss-in-Boots story, 304; in Finnish story, 305
French folk-tales quoted, 306, 347, 418
---- invasion appearing in folk-tales, xx., 5
Friar, ghost, in shape of, guardian of buried treasure, 231
Friday, efficacy of, in folk-medicine, 37
Frisian variants of Fisher Joe, 316
Frog, grateful, for hero's kindness, assists him, 150
----, the wonderful, story of, 224-226
Frog prince story, Lincolnshire, 404-405
Frogs, witches assume the shape of, xli.
Fruit, fairy maiden concealed in, 386
Funeral of heroine, 171, 173
Gallows, devil carries off man hanging from, 289
----, legend of, 382
----, resort of devils at night, 37
----, secrets heard under, 323
Gangrene, cures for, xlviii.
Garter, unloosing of, at weddings, 369
George (St.) legend of, quoted, 374
Gepidae, Ardaric King of, vii.
German folk-tales quoted, 306, 312, 321, 323, 324, 339, 341, 346, 347,
349, 350, 355, 356, 357, 358, 359, 360, 364, 372, 373, 374, 377, 378,
383, 385, 386, 387, 388, 389, 391, 394, 395, 397, 399, 400, 401, 402,
403, 405, 406, 407, 408, 415, 416 417, 421
---- wedding customs, 369
---- witchcraft, 343
_Gesta Romanorum_ quoted, 375
Ghost, story character, 142
----, wishing to marry bride, 282
Ghost lovers, story title, 278-282, 417
Ghosts, xlv; guard buried treasure, 232
Giant objects in folk-tales, 361
---- story, xxvi.-xxvii.
Giants, northern, 340
----, identified with Huns, x.
----, origin of, as sons of witch, 57
----, story characters, 9, 25, 55, 72, 101, 147
---- in Magyar folk-lore, xxiv.-xxxi.
---- and giantesses, 388
Giantess, cannibal story characters, 146
Gift to hero by fairy godmother, 197
Gifts, wonderful, 394
Gipsy tales quoted, 375
Gipsy women in folk-tale, 213
Girl with the golden hair, story-title, 262-277
---- without hands, story of, 182-188
Girls assist hero, 248
----, captive, rescued by hero, 247, 248
---- under form of mares in daytime, 159
Glass mountains in folk-tales, 350
Glass rock, hero taken over by magic horse, 65
Gnats, assists hero in task, 252, 254
Goats, guardians of giant's treasure, xxxi.
Goblet of dazzling brightness, story incident, 19
Goblins, xlv.-xlvi.
God, or Christ, descent of, to earth, story incident, 20, 82
Gold bridge, dragon's home near, 196, 201
---- children, variant of story, 313
---- duck, heroine transformed into, 214
---- hair picked up by hero, 269
---- horses, fetched by hero as task, 274
---- objects used in story incidents, 2, 28, 63-64, 65, 71, 74, 130,
143, 150
Golden apple, castle contained in, 206
---- coffin of heroine carried about by elk, 173
---- forest, 258
---- haired children born to heroine, 177, 184
---- haired stud of horses, 62
---- hair, girl with, story title, 262-277
---- girl married to hero, 159
---- hair, Tátos horse with, 198
---- horned bullocks roasted at Magyar weddings, 367
---- spade used to dig up Tátos foal, 251
Goods of heroine fetched by hero in table cloth, 273
Goose's egg, copper fortress swivelling on, 78
Gorgons, parallels to, 353
Gothamite stories quoted, 356, see "noodle"
Grapes, speaking, smiling apple, and tinkling apricot, story title,
130-132
Grateful beasts, story incident, 2, [150], 153, 158, 160, 249, 303-306
Grave stone and mound, story about, 381
Greek folk-tales, quoted, 338, 340, 350, 355, 386, 387, 391, 392, 394,
396, 398, 399, 400, 401, 402, 406, 407, 408
Green king, character in story, 288
Greyhound, guardian of giant's treasure, xxxi.
Griffin helps hero to escape from underground world, 249
Griffins, witch's daughter changed to, 254
Guns fired at weddings, Magyar, 368
Gyllenspets, family of, legends as to ennobling, 381
Hair combing in folk-tales, 389
----, not to be thrown away, 332
----, cutting of, punishment, 216
----, at wedding, 369
----, folk-lore of, 374-375, 402
---- of heroine used as means to bewitch her, 222
----, gold, of heroine, used by her to give light, 270
Hair-pin, poisonous, used by witch for destroying heroine, 172
Hairs, transformed into serpents, 398
Handkerchiefs, exchange of, mode of engagements, Palócz, 413
Hands, girl without, story of, 182-188
----, gold, child born with, 337
Hands and feet of hero cut off by his brothers, 260; renewed by rubbing
with blood, 261
----, cutting off of heroine's, by eldest sisters, 50
Handsome Paul, story title, 25-35; variants of, 317
Hanging, ceremonial at, 406-407
Harvesting customs, 98
Head-dress worn by maidens, Palócz, 414
Healing-grass, restoration of life by, 58
Healing-mud, 391
Healing-plants, 374
Hearth custom, mourning behind the oven, 15, see "ashes"
Heat, great, round fairies' well, 291
Heaven, journey to, story incident, 20; allegory of, 94
Helen and Argilus, story of, 345
Hell, hero marries witch in, 204
---- voyage to, 8-10, 67
Hermit character in tale, helps hero, 288; hero restores him to youth,
295
Hero maimed by elder brothers, 260
----, limbs of, restored by using magic mud, 261
---- suckled by ewe, 244
---- swallowed by king, 317
Hero transformed by Tátos horse, 198
---- unable to learn to fear, 228
Heroine marries devil's son, 195
History in folk-tales, 380-382
Holofernes, the fire-king, story of, 345
Holly tree with gold leaves in Russian story, 304
Holyrood, blood-stains at, 382
Home, troubles arising from bringing bride to the, 370-371
Homer quoted, 376
Horace quoted, 376
Horn, magic, in story incident, 61
Horse fed on dragon's milk for strength, 252
----, magic, story incident, 20, 62, 105, 144, 158, 160, 197, 387, 390,
392-393
----, old, made young by hero, 260
----, piebald, assists hero, 289
---- racing at weddings, Magyar, 368
---- (stallion) guardian of giant's treasure, xxxi.
---- with five legs produced from egg, 197
Horse-shoe, gold, picked up by hero, 270
Horses, age of, tested, 119
----, hero's task to take charge of, 253
----, mythic, called Tátos, 345-349
----, transformation of human beings into, 31
----, witch's daughters in shape of, 252
----, witches assume the shape of, xli.
House, folk-lore of the threshold, 410-411
---- tidying incident in folk-tales, 386
House-fairy, origin of, 136
Human sacrifice in story incident, 112
---- to stay the plague, 381
Hundetyrk, giant beings, Swedish, 340
Hunes, a tribe who came over with Saxons to Britain, xi.
Hungarian Faust story, 312
---- folk-tales, collections of, xxii.-xxiii.
Hungarians, origin of, vii.-viii.
Hungary, bathing customs in, 308
----, the happy land, 126
Huns, origin of the, vii., x.
Hunting princes, story title, 39-46
----, story incident, 1, 39, 54, 186, 188
Husks in folk-tales, 385
Hussar and the servant girl, story-title, 83-85
Hydrophobia, cures for, xlviii.
_Iliad_, quoted, 349
Illness, feigned, incident in folk-tales, 386
Images, wax, used in sorcery, 332
Immuration of human beings, 376-377, 407
----, punishment by, 114
Incantation, witch, xliii.
Indian tales quoted, 306, 307, 314, 321, 323, 338, 339, 341, 342, 344,
346, 356, 361, 362, 363, 364, 373, 383, 384, 385, 386, 387, 389, 391,
394, 395, 396, 398, 400, 402, 403, 404, 415
Invisible cap given by devil, 227
---- shepherd lad, story title, 141-144
Ishtar, legend of, quoted, 400
Italian folk-tales quoted, 356, 383, 384, 396-398, 400, 401, 408. 421
Irish folk-tales quoted, 322, 348, 353, 355, 364, 372, 394, 396, 397
Iron age, giants connected with, xxvi.
---- kneader, character in story, 245, 246
---- nose, woman with, 159, 203, 243
---- pole, witch rides on, to pursue hero, 269
---- railing round witch's house, 267
---- teeth, witch possessing, 221
Irons, brothers of hero working in, for debt, 260
Jack and the Bean Stalk incident, 146, 388
Jack Dreadnought, story title, 228-232
Jack the Giant Killer, 341
James I., legend of, 382
Japan marriage customs, 368
Japanese folk-tales quoted, 306, 391
Jaundice, cures for, xlvi.
Jazyges, origin of the, xvii.
Jesuits in Hungary, 409
Jewel, youth-giving qualities of, 373
Jewish wedding customs, 369
Jikil, a people of Hungary, xiii.
Johara, Juharia, province of, recorded in folk-tales, 371
Joseph, Biblical story of, quoted, 375
Kaffir folk-tales, 403
_Kalevala_, quoted, 331, 374
Karelian story quoted, 353, 359, 390
Keyne, St., well of, in Cornwall, 373
King adopts hero as his son, 234
---- and the devil, story of, 188-195
----, child born to be, type story, 233-244
---- made young again by magic water, 295
---- marrying most beautiful woman, 163
---- with eyes that weep and laugh, 251
King's daughter, story character, 4, 15, 234, 238
---- youngest daughter, story character, 27
Kissing by fays and by dog, causes oblivion, 322
Knife, non-use of, for killing, 11
----, wooden, stone cut by, 247
Knives stuck in a tree for life index, 374
Knot-holes in wood, folk-tale connected with, 364
Knowledge, obtaining of secret, 322-324
Koiran-Kuonalanien, giant beings, Finn, 340
Kronos, legend of, quoted, 399
Kuns, origin of the, xv.-xvi.
Ladybird rhyme, xx.
Lake, magic, power of restoring limbs possessed by, 185
----, silver, heroine takes form of, 195
Lamb, possessing power to rain gold, 162
---- with golden fleece, story title, 13-15; variants of, 312
Lamb and shepherd, pursued heroine and hero become, 33
Lameness of characters in folk-tales, 372
----, superstition about, 398
Language of animals, see "animals" Languages of Hungary, xviii., xix.
Lapp folk-tales quoted, 305, 312, 321, 326, 328, 329, 343, 344, 346,
352, 358, 359, 361, 362, 364, 370, 372, 373, 379, 384, 385, 386, 388,
389, 390, 392, 393, 396, 397, 399, 400, 403, 408, 410, 415, 418, 420
Lapp giant beings, 340
---- wedding customs, 369
Laughing, cure of illness by, 15
Lazy cat, 23-25; note to, 317
Lead, boiling, ordeal of truth by jumping in, 297
---- used as punishment by fairies, 294
Letter forged by witch, 178, 185
Letter intercepted, story incident, 52, 185
Life, allegory of, 92-94
---- concealed away from the body, 400
---- restoration to, 329, 341, 342, 344; by animals, 374, 396; by snake,
55; by healing grass, 58, 113
Life or soul, witch's, contained in animals, 205
Life index incidents, 339, 340, 374, 378
Light extinguished by animal bridegroom, 226
Limber, Lincolnshire, battle legends in, 382
Lincolnshire folk-lore, 343, 350, 363, 376, 378, 382, 398
---- folk-tales quoted, 358, 392, 393, 404, 405, 417, 418-420, 421
---- Mumby Hill, treasure legend, xxxi.
---- superstitions, 402
---- treasure legend, 406
---- wedding customs, 369
---- witchcraft, xliii.
Lions, country inhabited by, 188, 195
Literature, mediæval, influence on folk-tales, xx., xxi.
Livy quoted, 377
Loaf, baked seven times with other loaves, used as charm against dragon,
79
Local influences on folk-tales, xx.
Lodging, hero's, at a cottage held by a murderer, 9
London, legend relating to, quoted, 351
Looking back, misfortune from, 101
----, superstition against, in folk-tales, 362-363
----, unlucky at weddings, 369
Looking-glass, magic, power of speaking possessed by, 165
Lord of the manor, story character, 17
Love of the fairies, xxxiv.-xxxv.
Lover's ghost, story title, 278-282
Luck and bliss, story title, 22, 23; variants of, 317
Lungs and liver eaten by would-be murderer, 183
Mace, sent as sign of recognition, 106
---- used by devil as weapon, 194
Mace-throwing, 353
Magic pony, little, story of, 157-160
---- powers of giants, xxix.
---- queen of, 78
---- woman, godmother to heroine, 144
Magpie in Swedish folk-lore, 364
Magyars, origin of, viii., xiii.
Maiming of slain enemies, story incident, 43
Malagasy folk-tales quoted, 340, 394, 398, 401
---- superstition as to the threshold, 411
Man, hanged, eaten by devil, 290
Manners of Magyars, lxvii.
Märchen, origin of, xix.
Mare, power of talking possessed by, 263
Mares, milking, task set hero, 275
Mares, witch's daughter in story, 159
Market operations in noodle story, 81
Marriage by guessing of bride's secret marks, 141
---- by taking down objects from high pole, 151
----, child, 80
----, church, 4, 7
---- customs, Magyar, liv., 365; Palóczy, 412-414
---- festivals, Magyar, 389
---- in folk-tales, 328
---- of hero to queen of the fairies, 298
---- of hero with witch, 204
---- of heroine with frog, 225
---- of most beautiful girl, 163
---- of twelve brothers to twelve sisters, 159
---- to slayer of king's enemies, 44
---- by capture, see "bride-capture."
Maundeville's travels quoted, 342
May-pole, used in marriage custom, Palóczy, 412
Meadow, silken, of enemies, 67
Medicine folk, xlvi.-xlix., 403, 409; in story incident, 37
Melton Ross, Lincolnshire, gallows legend at, 382
Merlin, tradition of, 341
Message stick, story incident, 106
Messenger, intercepted, story incident, 52
Mezey, knight, story character, 66
Mice, king of, assists hero in task, 252, 255
Midnight, a story character, 42
Migration of a people, probable reference to, in folk-tales, 371
Milk, adulteration of, allegory of, 94
Milk, bathing in, task set hero, 276
Milk flowing from finger-post a sign of prosperity, 257
Milk-jug, lid of, formed from remains of murdered princes, 136
Milk lake and golden duck, pursued heroine and hero become, 34
Milk, woman's, bread made with, 121
Milking mares, task set hero, 274
Miller, a story character, 1
Millet-cake, story incident, 29, 30
Millet-field, heroine takes form of, 32, 193
Millet-seed, skull boiled with, as means of divination, 279
---- to cleanse, task set heroine, 192
Millstone given to hero for singing, 300
Mirkó, Prince, story title, 59-76
Mirror, magic, 395
Mohammedanism, influence of, on folk-tales, xx., xl.
Moldavia, Hungarian settlers in, xv.
----, Magyar settlers in, 380
Money given to hero by devil to aid him on his journeys, 290, 292, 293
Mongolian marriage customs, 368
Monk, devil's son takes form of, 194
Moon, on forehead of twin son, 52, 337; on hero's forehead, 387; on
right breast of king's daughter, 140
----, myth of, in folk-tales, 327
----, new, efficacy of, in folk-medicine, 37
---- superstition, 403
Moonlight in the water, 358
Mopstick, witch riding on, 253
Moss, eyelids covered with, sign of old age, 259
Mother marrying son, in Finnish story, 308
---- of heroine, her enemy, 183
Mountain adventures, story incident, 39, 54
Mountains built by giants, xxvii.
Mouse, assistance of, to hero, 153
Murder, crime of, committed and punished, 9-13
Murder of father by son in Finnish story, 307
Murders of the Blue Beard type, 129
Music, folk-, 370
Musical air to rhymes, 405
Musical myths, quoted, 347, 400
Mysterious land in folk-tales, 371-372
Myth, saints' legends develop into, x.
Nail-pairing superstitions, 402
Name, taboo in story incident, 47, 330-344
Names of fairies, xxxvi. xxxviii.
Negro legend of treasure, 406
Nettles, Prince Czihan, story title, 1-6
New Year's Day, liii.
_Niebelungen_ quoted, 351
Night and dawn, tying up of, in folk-tales, 326
Nimrod, giant legend of, viii.
Noodle stories, 80, 83, 86, 356-359, 361; parallels between, xix.
Norse tales quoted, 322, 323, 329, 342, 346, 350, 352, 353, 355, 358,
359, 360, 361, 370, 371, 372, 373, 375, 383, 385, 386, 389, 391, 392,
394, 396, 397, 398, 400, 404, 408, 410, 415, 421
Northumberland folk-lore, 343, 383
Norwegian giant beings, 340
Nose, sausage grows to man's, 219
Nothing, character in Finnish story, 315
Numbers, lix.
Nutshell, fairy bride's dress placed in, 102
Oak tree with golden leaves in Russian story, 304
Oblivion curse of, 321-322
Obstacles to pursuit in folk-tale, xxxiii., 32-35, 160, 393-394
Occupations of the fairies, xxxiv.
Ointment, strength-giving, 353
Operencian Sea, magic trees on shores of, 256
Orange, cure of dead by, 156
Oranges, three, story title, princesses spring from, 133-136
Orphans, the two, story of, 220-224
Oven, retirement behind, as mourning, 15
Owls' feathers, 409
----, pillow stuffed with, 191, 255, 398
Oxen, ploughing with, in tale, 298
Palaces of the fairies, xxxviii.
Palm Sunday, descent of God to earth on, 21
Palocz, origin of the, xviii.
----, folk-tales, 412
Palstave, used by Magyars, 412
Pannonia conquest of by Romans, vii.
Paris, Carmelite convent, blood stains at, 382
Pear-tree, poisonous, dragon's wife takes form of, 202
Pears, stolen from tree, incident in tale, 183
Peas in open field, picked up by hero, 76
Peel borrowed by mother in tale, 298
Pelican, the, story title, 250-262
Pelicans, unknown in Hungary, 409
_Pentamerone_ quoted, 339, 342, 374, 375, 379, 386, 387, 388, 394, 396,
398, 399, 400, 401, 403, 407, 410, 417
Perspiration, superstition about, Indian, 395
Peter (St.), appearance of, to hero, 141
----, descent of, to the earth with God, 20
Petticoat, tale said to be in tucks of, 282
Phooka, the wild horse of Ireland, 349
Picture in folk-tales, 396
Piebald horse, magic horse, 289; assists hero, 289; enemy of devils,
291, 292, 293
Pig, prince in form of, 131, 132
Pig-driving, in story incident, 80
Pigeon, hero transforms himself into, 286
Pigeons, transformation of, into girls, 101
Pigeons help heroine in task, 208
Pillow stuffed with owls' feathers in devil's house, 191
Pin, in folk-tales, 395-396
----, poisonous, used by witch to destroy heroine, 170
Pistols, used by hero, 63
Plaid, possessing power of making wearer invisible, 289
Plague, animal sacrifice at, 381; witch sacrifice, xliv.
Plants, wound-healing, 341
----, superstitions, lxiii-lxiv.
----, see "apples," "apricot," "bramble," "oak," "pear" Pleurisy, cures
for, xlvii.
Plough, six-ox, yoking of, 370
Ploughing task, story incident, 28, 96
Pluto, story character, 29
Poker changed into horse by witch, 160
Polish folk-tales quoted, 322, 379, 418
Pony, magic, story of, 157-160
Pope, hero becomes, 12
Portraits, superstition against, 333
Portuguese folk-tales quoted, 324, 334, 339, 342, 361, 365, 372, 374,
386, 389, 394, 395, 396, 397, 399, 400, 401, 402
Post (finger) oozing blood, sign of misfortune to hero, 257
---- used as trysting place, 257
Poultry yard, hero and heroine locked in, 286
Presents, the beggar's, story of, 161-163
Priest, name for Tátos, also name for mythic horse, 345
Priests and their sermons, allegory of, 94
----, folk-tale allusion to, 205, 400
Princes, the three, story title, 110-117
Princess who never laughed, type story, 312
Princesses, the three, story title, 144-149
Property, obtaining of, by descent, 16, 34, 137; by force, 6; by
marriage, 7, 46, 53, 153
Proverbial sayings, Székely, ix.
Punchkin, incident in folk-tales, 205, 400
Punishment by immuration, 114
Punishment of false knight, story incident, 45
Puppies supposed to be born of heroine, 178, 185
Purse which never gets full, see "bag"
Pursuit obstacles, in story incident, 32-35, 160, 393-394
Puss in Boots, type story, 1-6, 303, 306
Pygmy race, 330
Queen of the faires, 294
Quinsy, cure for, xlix.
Rabbit, hero takes form of, 202
Races, stories indicating old feuds between, 380
Rats, witch's daughters changed to, 255
Raven, shooting at, story incident, 39
Red cap, devil and the, story of, 226-228
Red-haired people, unluck of meeting, 329
Red Knight, a false champion, 43, 114
Relations, quarrels of, allegory of, 94
Rhymes, children's, Cumanian, xvi.
Rich men, children of two, story title, 80-83
Riddles in folk-tales, 239, 240, 334
Ring, betrothal, in Magyar marriage, 366
----, poisonous, used by witch to kill heroine, 168
---- possessing power of waking wearer in case of need, 291
Ring, wedding, 3, 7
----, wife's means of recognising husband, 315
Rivers, fairy origin of, xxxix.
Robbers, twenty-four, story characters, 42
----, heroine protected by, 167
Rod, growth of, put as a test, 119
----, growth, magic, 71
Rose, gold, means of identifying heroine, 211-213
Rose, knight, story title, 54-58
Roumanian folk-tales quoted, 353, 387, 388, 391, 399, 407
Roumanian intrigues with Turkey alluded to, 124
Rug, used as obstacle in pursuit of hero, 160
Russian folk-tales quoted, 304, 306, 321, 325, 329, 338, 339, 341, 344,
347, 353, 355, 358, 359, 361, 362, 364, 373, 374, 379, 381, 389, 391,
392, 393, 394, 397, 398, 399, 400, 401, 404, 408, 411, 415, 420, 421
Russian marriage ceremony, 366
Sacrifice, human, in story incident, 112, 344
----, to stay the plague, 381
Saddle, magic, for magic horse, 63
----, old, used on Tátos horse, 198
Saddle and bridle demanded by hero for wages, 252
Sale at markets, used as story incident, 22
Saints' legends, place of, in mythology, x.
---- quoted, 339
Saints' Days, customs, l.-lix.
Sausage, magic, 219
Scab, cure for, xlix.
Scabbard growing on hero's side, 233
Scandinavian Huns, xi.
School, hero's attendance at, 7
Scottish folk-lore, 363, 368, 411
---- folk-tales quoted, 312, 346, 349, 398, 400
---- wedding custom, 369
Scurvy, cures for, xlvii.
Sea, mythical, in Hungarian folk-tales, 375-376
Secret, hero's life depends on keeping, 233, 244
Secret-keeping little boy and his little sword, story title, 233-244,
314
Secrets, transformation of hero on divulging, 314
Selection, magic powers in, 378
Serbian folk-tales quoted, 306, 323, 325, 339, 342, 347, 353, 361, 362,
373, 374, 386, 387, 388, 391, 392, 400, 401, 407, 408, 421
Serpents, hairs from devil's beard become, 192
Servants, animals so-called, 373
Servian witchcraft, 343
Service of hero with king, 263
Seventh son superstition, xxx.
Shepherd, story character, 13, 91, 141
Shepherd Paul, story title, 244-249
Shepherd's daughter given to devil instead of heroine, 191
Ship that sails over land and sea, 316
Shirt, silk, given to hero to increase strength, 248
Shoe, Cinderella's, 149
Shoes, in folk-tales, 387
Shoes thrown after the bride, 369
Shooting incidents in folk-tales, 329
Sicilian folk-tales quoted, 338
Siculus, people of Székely, ix., xiii., xiv.
Sillyhood, name for the caul, 378
Silver bridge, dragon's house near, 196, 200
---- of dazzling brightness, story incident, 20
Silver horse, concealment in, 139
Silver objects mentioned in story incidents, 61, 130, 143, 150
_Sindibad_, book of, quoted, 360
Sins, washing away of, allegory of, 93
Sisters, twelve, marry twelve brothers, story incident, 159
Skin, delicacy of heroines, 354
Skin, assumption of snake's, 342
Skull, boiling of, used in divination to get news of absent lover, 279
Slavonic folk-tales quoted, 323, 306
Sleep, magic, falls on watchers of heroine, 183
----, mode of, as a test of princely origin, 77
Sleeping beauty incidents in folk-tales, 396
Smell, giants sense of, 340
Smithy, hero takes refuge at, 203
Snake in Russian Puss in Boots story, 304
----, prince in form of, 283; proposes to marry king's daughter, 284
---- teaches hero language of animals, 301
----, three-headed, sacrifice of king's daughter to, 344
---- with girl's head, restores life to hero, 55
---- field, task of hero's to clean, 316
---- friends, 342
Snake-skin, story title 282-287, 417
Snakes-skin, assumption of, by heroine, 342
Snipe, origin of, 359
Snow-water collected in March, youth-giving qualities of, 372
Social organisation of the fairies, xxxvii.
Son marrying mother in Finnish story, 308
Song, singing a, means of discovering truth, 299
Songs, mystic, for restoration of life, 341
----, wedding and love, 370
Spade, golden, used to dig up Tátos foal, 256
Spanish belief in herb to restore eyesight, 322
Spanish folk-tales quoted, 313, 329, 334, 347, 360, 392, 394, 402, 407,
408
Spanish wedding customs, 369
_Spectator_, wedding songs quoted from, 370
Spinning in folk-tales, 330
Spinning-girl (the lazy) who became queen, story-title, 46-49
Spitting, enchantment by, 395
Spittle, fairy, makes objects speak, xxxiii.
---- speaking of, to delude pursuers, 321
---- used by witch to disfigure heroine, 166
Sports at weddings, Magyar, 389
Spring of poisonous water, dragon's wife takes form of, 202
Sprites, xlv.
Squirrel, shooting at, story incident, 40
Staff broken at hanging ceremony, 407
Stag, means of finding heroine, 186
Star, morning, horse similar to, 63
---- superstitions, 410
Stars, child born with, on his face, 338
----, marks of, on hero's forehead, 387
----, three, on left breast of king's daughter, 140
----, kicking of, by high-stepping horses, 130
Steel dropping from raven's back, story incident, 39
---- hoop, hero takes form of, 201
Stepsister, heroine of tale, 207
Stephen the murderer, story title, 7-13; variants of, 306-312
Stone cut with wooden knife by hero, 247
Stone, giants turned to pillars of, 316
---- hero turned into, 71; hero's animal servants turned into, 115
Stone-boulders eaten by giants for food, 247
Stone-column, removal of, as task for hero, 18
Stone-crusher, character in story, 245, 246
Stonemasons, story characters, 18
Stones, with imprint of giant's heel, xxv; of fairies xxxiv.-xxxv.
xxxix.
Stones, (precious) superstitions, lxiv.
Strength of giant kept apart from his body, 71
----, secret of, revealed in order to kill hero, 326
Strength-giving substances, 353
Student who was forcibly made king, story-title, 76
Students' careers alluded to, see "college" "school"
Subterfuge for gaining a wife, 4
Subterranean houses of the fairies, xxxviii.
Summons by whistle and whip, 372
Sun, child born with, on top of head, 337
----, on forehead of twin son, 52; of king's daughter, 140
----, comparison of hero with, 342
----, hero's beauty like the, 56
----, myth of, in folk-tale, 328
----, stoppage of, to admire heroine's beauty 112
Sunbeams, woman appearing on, 364
Swahili folk-tales quoted, 306, 322, 342, 364, 386, 391, 397, 400, 408
Swallow, herb known to, will restore eyesight 322
Swan-maiden incident, 101, 363-365, 315 390
Swedish folk-tales quoted, 306, 330, 333, 334, 362, 386, 388, 391, 397,
401, 405,415
Swedish giant beings, 340
Swedish wedding songs, 370
Swineherd helps hero of tale, 261
Swineherd hero-prince takes situation as, 296
Swineherd's daughter given to devil instead of heroine, 190
Sword, clanking of hero's, denoting approbation, 235, 241
Sword possessing power of slaying numbers, 293
Sword, unsheathed, placed between wife and husband's substitute, 116,
375
---- used by hero, 63, 66; growing in garden, 233; kills hero's enemies,
243
Swords, magic, in folk-tales, 350, 406
Székely folk-medicine quoted, 342
----, origin of the, ix., xii.-xv.
Table-cloth, magic, 162
---- used by hero to carry goods, 273
Tartar conquest alluded to, 118-119, 124
Tartars, dog-headed, 377
Tasks in folk-tales, 18, 27, 47, 153, 192-193, 273-275, 313, 315, 379,
390, 392, 393, 415
Tátos, giant's horse, xxv., 197, 345
Teeth, children born with, 378
Telescope, wonderful, bought by prince to win a bride, 156
Thorn-tree, cure for ague by shaking, 403
Thornton Abbey, Lincolnshire, battle legend about, 382
Three, significance of the number, 101
---- canes, riddle of, solved by hero, 239
---- foals, riddle of, solved by hero, 240
---- legs, foal with, 257
---- Princes, Three Dragons, and the Old Woman with the Iron Nose,
story of, 196-206
---- sisters in tale, 224
---- sons, hero youngest of, 250
---- wishes type story, 217-219
Threshold, ceremonies at, 332, 333
----, folk-lore of, 410-411
Tinder, shot from squirrel's tree, story incident, 40
Time, rapid passing of, in folk-tales, see "age," "year"
----, stopping of, story incident, 42, 362
Toad used as means to bewitch heroine, 222
Tools, assistance by, to youngest son, 390
---- work by themselves, Frisian, 316
Toothache of king ceasing only with granting hero's wishes, 197
Tower, hero immured in, 240
Town draped in black cloth, 374
Trance, heroine falls into, through treachery, 172, 174
Transformation of hero and heroine to avoid pursuit, 321
Transylvania, wedding customs, 369
----, races occupying, ix.
Travelling, speed of, in folk-tales, xxiv.-xxv., 26, 350
---- with magic wings, 142
Treasure, buried, ghosts as guards of, 231, 232, 405
----, buried, legends, xxix., xxx.
Treasures, offered by witch as reward refused by hero, 255
Tree, good luck coming from being under, 387
----, grown from remains of murdered princes, 135
----, heroine and her children take refuge in, 179
----, heroine placed amongst branches of, 213
----, magic growth of, 146
----, sap of, used for cure of illness, 138
----, witch seated in, 57, 115
Tree-comber, character in story, 244
Trees, magic, on borders of Operencian Sea, 256
----, kissing each other means of hero crossing water, 258
----, notched by hero to guide his path, 258
Triangle traced by witch, 256
Tribal blood feud incident, _Arabian Nights_, 360
Trolls, assume shape of magpies, in Sweden, 364
Truth and falsehood, travels of, story title, 36-39
Trynetyrk, giant beings, Norwegian, 340
Tumuli, called giants graves, x.
Turkish sultan in folk-tales, xx.
Twelve brothers marry twelve sisters, 159, 263, 267
Twins, golden-haired, born to heroine, 184
Twilight, myth of, in folk-tales, 327
Uliva (St.) legend of, quoted, 339
Underground people, in folk-tales, 408
Useless article found on road, source of wealth to finder, 354
Valuable, three things, story title, 155-157
Vargaluska (dancing), concealed name of dwarf, 48
Vasfogu, Bába, story character, 5
Vikings, probable legend of, quoted, 352
Vine-growing as task for hero, 18
Vomiting of persons eaten, incident in folk-tales, 399
Walachian folk-tales, quoted, 338, 395, 396
Watching, youngest son successful in, 390
Water, foal washed in to gain strength, 256
---- immersion, cure of maiming by, story incident, 53
---- possessing power of transforming human being into animal, 220
----, reflection of heroine's face in, 135
----, want of, causes death of princesses who were cut from oranges, 133
----, youth-giving, from fairies' well, 289, 293, 295
---- of life, allegory of, 93, 250-262
Water-spring, blocking up by devils, story incident, 37
----, magic origin of, 72
Wayland Smith, legend quoted, 351
Weaving in folk-tales, 330
----, soldiers produced by, 68
Wedding customs, Magyar, 365
---- festivities, 104-105
---- party, greeting to, 80
Weeding operations in story incident, 81
Well, frog residing in, 224
----, holy, flowers from, used at marriages, Palócz, 412
----, mud from, cures blindness, 152
---- worship, xxxii.
Wells, marvellous powers of water, 373
Wend, folk-tales quoted, 359
Were-wolves, 344
Whale, heroine devoured by, 222
Wheat, dirty, heroine set task of cleaning, 208, 209, 211
Whip, magical, 16, 27, 107
Whistle, magic, 392
---- given by grateful animals for summons, 153
---- commanding obedience from insects, fish, or mice, 252, 253
Whistle and whip, a method of summons, 372
Widower and his daughter, story of, 207-216
Wife, lord's power over vassals, alluded to, 18
Wife of hero desired by king, 314
Wife-beating of, story incident, 23
Wife's kindred, interposition of, 24
Wine taken by hero to renew strength, 201, 248
---- drank by foal for food, 265
Wings, magic, for travelling, 142
Winifred, St., well of, in Flintshire, 373
Wishes, the, story of, 217-219
Witches, assist youngest son, hero, 61
---- burning of, 181
---- changes into pigeon, story incident, 160
----, children of, born with teeth, 378
---- drugs hero, 253, 254, 255
----, fear of, for animals, 57, 115
----, giants supposed to be, xxiv.
---- guardian of castle in Hades, 68
---- in Magyar folk-lore, xli.-xliv.
---- kills her own children by ruse, 159, 268
----, magical powers of, xlii.
----, method of seeing, xli.
----, mother of giants, 57
---- with iron nose, 241, 243
---- year consists of three days, 252
Witch's daughter personates heroine, 221
---- daughters in shape of horses, 252
---- maid helps hero, 204
Witchcraft defeated by the drawing of blood, 343
Wives, dragon's, destroyed by hero, 203
Wodin, dragon sacred to, 325
Wolf, assistance of, to hero, 153
Wolf, in Finnish grateful animal story, 305
Wolves, country inhabited by, 188, 195
Woman's curiosity, story title, 301-302, 313
Woman, old, made young by hero, 260
Women, aged, direct hero in quest, 258
Wood-grouse in Karelian grateful animal story, 305
Woodpecker in folk-tales, 362, 372
----, influence of, on hero's actions, 99, 108-109
Worcestershire folk-lore, 378
Words, story turning on similarity of, 84
World, underground, visited by hero, 247
World's beautiful woman, story of, 163
Wrestling of hero with strong men, 245
Yarborough Camp, Lincolnshire, legend concerning, 382
Year of service given by hero, 157
---- of three days duration, 98
Yellow Hammer, King, story character, 2
Yorkshire finger-lore, 330, 331
---- folk-lore, 349, 398
---- superstitions, 402
Youngest, success of, 389-391
Youngest brother, story hero, 40, 55, 60, 92, 97, 116, 153, 157, 203
---- daughter, story heroine, 27, 43, 49, 159
---- prince successful in quest, 288
---- prince and youngest princess, story title, 137-141
---- sister heroine of tale, 207, 224-226
---- son successful, 150, 196, 250
Youth, allegory of, 93
---- giving plants, 109
---- giving water, 288, 372-373
----, power to restore, possessed by pelican, 251, 258, 262
WESTMINSTER: PRINTED BY NICHOLS AND SONS, 25, PARLIAMENT STREET.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
All obvious printer errors were corrected.
Some spelling was corrected for consistency.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Folk-Tales of the Magyars - Collected by Kriza, Erdélyi, Pap, and Others" ***
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