Ali Cogia told his story just as he had before, stating that he had left with Abul Hassan seven years before a thousand pieces of gold packed in a jar and covered over with olives.

"Is this the jar you left with Abul Hassan?" asked the boy, pointing to the jar Ali had brought into court.

Ali stated that it was.

"Abul Hassan, do you also say this is the jar Ali Cogia left with you?" asked the lad.

Abul answered that it was. He also asked to be allowed to take his oath that the jar had not been disturbed after it was left in his warehouse until Ali Cogia had returned and removed it.

"That is not necessary at present," answered the boy. "First let some expert olive merchants be brought in."

Several olive dealers, the most expert in the city, had been sent for, and they now came forward.

The lad asked these real merchants the same questions he had asked of the feigned merchants the night before. "How long," said he, "is it possible to keep olives good?"

And the merchants answered, as had the boys, "Not more than three years, for no matter how carefully they have been packed, after that time they lose both color and flavor."

"Look in that jar," said the lad, "and tell us how long you think those olives have been kept there."

The merchants examined the olives with the greatest care, and then they all agreed that the olives were of that year's growth and quite fresh.

"And do you not think it possible they may have been kept a year or so?"

"No, it is not possible," answered the merchants. "We know, of a surety, as we have already said, that these olives are of this year's growth, and have only recently been packed in the jar."

When Ali Cogia heard this he gave a cry of surprise, but Abul Hassan was silent; his face grew as pale as ashes, and his legs failed under him, for he knew that the merchants, in saying this, had pronounced sentence against him.

But the lad turned to the Caliph and begged that he might now be allowed to hand over the case to him. "When I pronounced sentence last night, it was but in play," said he. "But this is not play. A man's life is at stake, and I dare not pronounce sentence upon him."

To this request the Caliph agreed. "Abul Hassan, you have condemned yourself," he said. He then bade the guards take Abul Hassan away and execute him according to the law.

Before the wretched man was hanged, however, he confessed his guilt and told where he had hidden the thousand pieces of gold that belonged to Ali Cogia.

After Abul had been led away the Caliph caressed and praised the lad for conducting the case so wisely and with so much judgment.

"As for you," said he to the Cadi, "you have not shown the wisdom I demand from my judges. Learn from this child that such cases are not to be dismissed lightly, but to be inquired into with judgment and care. Otherwise it may go ill with you."

The Cadi retired, full of shame, but the Caliph ordered that a hundred pieces of gold should be given to the boy and that he should be sent home to his mother with honor.



OH!

A COSSACK STORY

There was once a man who had one son, and he was so lazy that he would not work at all. The father apprenticed him to a tailor, but the lad went to sleep between the stitches. He apprenticed him to a cobbler and the lad only sat and yawned instead of driving pegs. What to do with him the man did not know.

"Come," said the father one day, "we will go out into the wide world. It may be that somewhere or other we will find a master who can make you work."

The lad was very good-natured. "Very well," said he, "I am willing"; and he arose and stretched himself and yawned, and then he was ready to set out.

The father put on his cap and took a staff in his hand, and then he was ready, too.

The two of them journeyed along together, in step and out of step, and after a while they came to a deep wood. When they were well into it, the father grew so weary that he had to sit down and rest.

"Oh! what have I done that I should have such a lazy son!" he cried.

At once a little old, wrinkled, weazened man, all dressed in green, with a green face, green hair, and a green beard stood before them.

"Why did you call me," said he, "and what do you want?"

"I did not call you," answered the man.

"But you did call me, for I heard you. Did not you call 'Oh'? And that is my name."

"I said, 'Oh, what have I done to have such a lazy son,'" replied the man, "but I did not call you, for I did not know that was your name."

The Green one looked closely at the lad. "Is he so lazy?" he asked. "He looks a stout, healthy fellow."

"That is the worst of it," answered the father. "He is so stout and healthy that he eats me out of house and home, and not one stroke will he do to pay for it. I have tried to apprentice him to different masters, but they soon weary of him and drive him out."

"Very well; I will take him as an apprentice myself," answered the little man. "Leave him here with me for a year. Come back at the end of that time, and if you know him again and are able to choose him out from among my other apprentices, then you shall take him home with you, but if not, then he shall serve with me a year longer."

Very well, the father was willing to agree to that. It would only be for a year, for of course he would recognize his own son anywhere. So he left the lad with Oh and went on home again.

Oh took the lad down into the country that lies beneath this earth, and the way was not long. There everything was green. Oh's house was made of green rushes. His wife was green and his daughters were green and his dog was green, and when they gave the lad food to eat, it was green also.

The oldest daughter would have been a beauty if she had not been green all over—eyes, hair, and all. As soon as she saw the lad she loved him and would have been glad to have him for a husband, but he had no fancy for her.

"When I marry," said he, "it shall be some girl who is good red and white flesh and blood like myself."

"Never mind," said Oh. "After you have lived here for a while you will be glad enough to have her for a wife."

The lad lived down in the under country for a year, and Oh taught him much magic, and he was very useful to the old Green One.

But at the end of the year the father came back in search of his son. He stopped at the very same spot in the forest where he had stopped before and cried out in a loud voice, "Oh! Oh! I would like to see my son."

At once Oh appeared before him. "Come with me," he said, "but remember our bargain. If you know your son when you see him he is yours again, but if you do not know him, then he must stay with me and serve me still another year."

The man was very willing to agree, for it would be a strange thing if he did not know his own son when he saw him.

Oh led him down the short way to the land that is under this, and when he got there the man stared about him in wonder. Never had he seen so many green things in all his life before.

Oh took a handful of corn and scattered it about, calling as he did so. Then a great number of cocks that were pecking about the place came running and began to pick up the corn.

"Tell me now, which of these is your son?" asked Oh, "for one of them is he."

The man stared and scratched his head and stared again, but he could not tell, for one cock was just like another. He had to own that he could not tell which was his son.

"Very well," said Oh. "Then you will have to go home without him. Come back at the end of another year, and then if you know him from his mates you shall take him home with you, but if not then he shall stay with me a twelvemonth longer."

That did not suit the man at all, but he could not say no, for that was what the bargain had been.

At the end of the year the man came back to the forest again and called upon Oh, and Oh was quickly before him.

"Come along," said Oh. "You surely ought to know your son when you see him. If you do he shall go home with you, and I shall not say no to it, but if not then he shall stay with me a year longer."

When the man heard this he was troubled, for he feared the Green One meant to play some trick on him as he had before, and he wanted his son home again, lazy or not. Moreover the lad's mother was grieving for him.

Oh led the man down to the underworld and over to a field where a flock of rams was grazing.

"All these are my servants," said Oh, "and one of them is your son. Look well and tell me which is he, for unless you can choose him out he must stay here with me."

The man looked and looked, but he could not tell which of the rams was his son, for they all looked alike to him, so he had to go home without him.

When the lad's mother heard of this second trick the Green One had played on her husband she wept bitterly. "If we cannot find some way to get round him, we will never have the lad back again," she said.

"That is true," said the man; "but if our son looks like a cock, how can I tell him from other cocks; and if he looks like a ram, how can I tell him from other rams?"

Well, time slipped by, and the man and his wife grew poorer and poorer, for they were growing old, and they needed a young body in the house to work for them.

When it was about time for the man to set out for Oh's house his wife said to him, "See now! we have nothing left in the house but a small loaf and a bit of honeycomb. But we can do better than fill our stomach with them. Do you take them to the old Wise Woman who lives over beyond the hill. Tell her they are a gift, and then ask her what we can do to meet the tricks of the little old Green One."

The man did as his wife bade him, though he was hungry and would have been glad of a bit of the bread himself.

The Wise Woman was pleased with the gift, and thanked the man kindly. Then the man told her all his troubles and asked her how he was to get his son back again from Oh.

"Listen!" said the old woman. "Oh would gladly keep your son with him as a husband for his daughter, and if you do not bring the lad away with you this time, you will never have him back. This time Oh will show you a flock of doves, and one of them will be your son. Look closely at them, and the one that has tears in its eyes is he, for only a human soul can weep."

The father thanked the old woman and hurried back home again, and very soon after it was time to set out for Oh's house.

The man travelled along till he came to the wood and the place where he had come twice already, and he stood there and cried, "Oh! Oh!"

Then Oh appeared before him. "Here I am," said Oh, "ready and waiting for you. This time, as before, I tell you that if you know your son when you see him you shall take him away with you, but if, this time, you do not know him, then he is mine forever."

"Very well," said the man, "that is a bargain."

Then Oh took him down to the underworld. He called to a flock of doves that was perched on the roof and scattered a handful of peas on the ground for them. The doves flew down all about them and began to peck up the peas; but one dove would not eat but sat mournfully on a low bough and looked at them, and its eyes were full of tears.

"This one is my son," cried the man, pointing to the dove that wept.

As soon as he said this the dove changed its shape and became a young man, and this was the son, though he had become so fine and tall and handsome in these three years that his father could scarcely recognize him.

Then Oh was in a fine rage. He danced with fury and tore his beard.

"Very well," he cried, "he is yours now, but you shall not keep him long, and when I once get him back again he is mine forever."

But the lad paid no heed to his threats. He and his father were soon on the upper earth again, and they set out for home, one foot before the other.

On the way the father told the lad how badly it had gone with him and the mother in the past years; of how poor they were, and of how their hut was tumbling to pieces, and how their cow had died.

"Never mind," said the lad. "I learned quite a bit of magic from the Green One, and that should help us out now. Do you hear the huntsmen winding their horns farther on in the open?"

Yes, the father heard them.

"I will turn myself into a greyhound," said the lad. "The hunt is coming this way, and when the huntsmen see me they will want to buy me. Ask them three hundred dollars for me; no more, no less, but when they take me do not leave the leash on me, whatever you do. Take it off and put it in your pocket, and then all will be well with me. Fail to do this, and misfortune will surely overtake me."

The father promised to do as the son said, and then the lad turned himself into a greyhound, and he was so sleek and handsome that the man could not admire him enough; but about his neck was an old, worn leash that did not look as though it were worth a penny. It seemed a pity to leave it on the neck of such a handsome dog.

The man went on a little further and then he came to where a grand nobleman and his friends were hunting a hare. They had a pack of dogs with them but the hare had outrun them.

When the nobleman saw the man and the greyhound he stopped his horse.

"That is a fine greyhound you have there."

"Yes, it is," answered the man.

"Do you think it could course down the hare we are chasing?"

Yes, the man was sure it could.

"Then let me have it and I will pay you a good price for it."

Very well, he could have it for three hundred dollars, but that was without the leash; the leash was not for sale.

The nobleman laughed aloud, "when the dog is mine," he said, "he shall have a golden leash, for that one you have is fit for nothing but the ash heap."

The nobleman then paid the man three hundred dollars and unfastened the leash from the dog's neck.

Away he flew like the wind and soon caught the hare. But when the hunters reached the spot where the hare lay they could see nothing of the dog. Only a tall and handsome youth stood there, and he was flushed and hot as though he had been running.

"Have you seen my greyhound, a sleek and handsome dog?" asked the nobleman.

No, the youth had not seen any dog.

The nobleman called and whistled, and he and his huntsman hunted far and near, but they never found the greyhound.

As for the lad he set out on the road his father had taken and soon caught up with him.

"That was a very pretty trick," said the father; "but after all three hundred dollars is not much. It will barely buy us a cow and clothes and put a new roof on the hut."

"Yes, but that is not the only trick I know," answered the son. "Look at the hill over yonder and tell me what you see."

The father looked. "I see a company of fine ladies and gentlemen," answered the father, "and they are flying their falcons."

"I will change myself into a falcon, and when you have come to where they are you shall loose me, and I will strike down a quail. Then they will want to buy me. Sell me for three hundred dollars, no more, no less. But whatever you do take off my hood and keep it, or misfortune will surely overtake us."

The father promised he would do this, and then the lad turned himself into a falcon and perched upon his father's hand.

Presently the father came up to where the ladies and gentlemen were at their sport. They loosed their falcons, and the falcons flew after the quail, but always they failed to strike, and the quail escaped.

"That is poor sport," said the man. "I can show you better."

He took off the hood and cast his falcon at the quail, and it quickly struck down its prey.

The gentlemen and ladies were astonished at the quickness of the falcon and at the beauty of its feathers.

"Sell us the bird," they said.

Yes, the man was willing to do that, but his price was three hundred dollars without the hood; the hood was not for sale for love nor money.

All the fine folk began to laugh. "What do we want with that old hood?" they cried. "We will give the bird a hood that is worthy of a king."

So the man took the three hundred dollars and the hood and went on his way.

The one who had bought the falcon cast it at a quail, and it struck down its prey as before, but when the hunters reached the place where the birds had fallen they saw no falcon, but only a handsome young man who stood there looking down at the dead quail.

"What became of the falcon that was here?" they asked.

But the youth had seen no falcon.

He set out and soon overtook his father, who had not gone far. "And now art thou content?" he asked.

"Six hundred dollars is not a fortune," answered the man. "Since you have done so well you might have done better."

"Very well," answered the son. "We are now coming to a town where they are holding a fair. I will change myself into a horse, and you shall take me there and sell me for a thousand dollars,—no more, no less. But heed what I say. Do not sell the halter whatever you do, or evil will surely come of it."

"Very well," said the father. "I will remember."

The son then changed himself into a coal-black horse. His skin was like satin, his eyes like jewels, and when he moved, his hoofs scarcely seemed to touch the ground. But around his neck was an old leather halter that was scarcely fit for an old farm nag.

The father led the horse on to where the fair was being held, and at once a crowd gathered around him, all bidding for the horse. Some offered him more and some less.

"The price is a thousand dollars," said the father, "no more, no less. But that is without the halter."

Then the people all laughed. "Who wants the halter?" they cried. "What we offer is for the horse alone. The halter we would not take as a gift."

Then a rough looking, black-haired gypsy elbowed his way through the crowd. He was really the Green One who had taken on this form, though this the man did not know.

"I will give you two thousand," he cried. "One thousand for the horse and one thousand for the halter, but I will not have one without the other."

When the crowd heard this they laughed louder than ever. They thought the gypsy was crazy to offer such a price.

As for the father he stood there gaping and he did not know what to do.

"The price of the horse is a thousand dollars," he said.

"And a thousand for the halter," said the gypsy.

Well, two thousand dollars seemed a fortune to the man. Moreover he did not see what harm it could do to sell the halter too.

So he let the gypsy have the horse and the halter as well, and the gypsy paid him two thousand dollars and led the horse away.

And now the lad could not change himself back into his human shape, because the halter held him, and this Oh knew very well.

He led the horse back to the forest and down to the world that is under this. "Now I have you again," he said, "and this time you shall not escape me."

Then he called to his youngest daughter and bade her take the horse down to the river to drink.

When she had brought the horse to the river bank it said to her. "Loosen, I pray of thee, the halter, that I may drink more easily."

Then the girl, who was a stupid wench, loosened the halter. At once the lad slipped out of it and changed himself into a perch and fled away down the river.

But the Green One knew what had happened. He rushed down to the river and changed himself into a pike and pursued after the perch.

On and on they went, but the pike swam faster than the perch and was just about to catch it when the perch sprang clear out of the water.

The daughter of the Tsar was walking by the river, and she was such a beauty that it made the heart ache to look at her. On her arm she carried a basket.

As the perch leaped he changed himself into a ruby ring and fell into the basket.

The damsel was very much astonished to see the ring in her basket. She did not know where it had come from. She looked up, and she looked down, but she could see no one who could have thrown the ring.

Then she took it up and slid it upon her finger, and at once she loved it as she had never loved anything in all her life before.

She carried it to her father and said to him, "Look what a pretty ring I have found!"

"Yes," answered her father, "but where did you find it?"

"I found it in my basket, but how it came there I do not know."

The Tsaritsa's mother also admired the ring very much. Never had they seen such a brilliant and flashing ruby before.

Now at first, after the perch leaped out of the river and into the Tsaritsa's basket, Oh did not know what had become of him. He was obliged to go home and get out his magic books, and then he soon learned where the lad was.

He then changed himself into a venerable merchant, clothed in velvet robes and with a long white beard. He broke a stick from an ash tree and changed it into a horse, and mounted on it and rode away to the Tsar's palace.

Then he asked to speak with the Tsar, and so old and venerable did he look that they would not refuse him, but brought him before the Tsar.

"What dost thou want, old man?" asked the Tsar.

"Your majesty," answered the Green One, "I have had a great loss. I was crossing the river in a boat, and I had with me a very handsome ruby ring that I was carrying with me to my master, who is also a Tsar. Unfortunately I lost the ring overboard, and I thought it might perchance have washed up on the shore and have been picked up by one of thy servants."

"What was thy ring like?" asked the Tsar.

Then the pretended merchant described the Tsaritsa's ring exactly.

The Tsar sent for his daughter, and she came with the ring on her finger, for she would not take it off, either night or day.

"Let me see thy ring," said the Tsar.

He took her hand in his and examined the ring carefully, and it was in every respect exactly as the Green One had described it.

"Is this thy ring?" the Tsar asked of the merchant.

"Yes, your majesty, it is."

"Then," said the Tsar to his daughter, "it is right that thou shouldst return it to him."

The Tsaritsa wept and implored. She offered the merchant her pearls and every other gem she had if he would but let her keep the ring, but he refused.

"Very well, then, it shall be neither thine nor mine," cried the Tsaritsa, and she drew the ring from her finger and dashed it against the wall.

At once the ring changed into a hundred millet seeds and was scattered all over the floor.

But the Green One as quickly changed himself into a cock and ran about this way and that, pecking up the millet seeds and swallowing them. Ninety-nine millet seeds he found and ate, but the hundredth he did not find, because it had fallen beside the Tsaritsa's foot, and the hem of her robe covered it.

As soon as the cock had swallowed the ninety-ninth seed he sprang upon the window sill, and stretched his neck and crowed with triumph.

But the hundredth seed was really the lad, and in that moment he changed himself back into his human form, and before the cock knew what had happened, he caught hold of it and wrung its neck and that was the end of Oh and his magic.

As for the Tsaritsa, no sooner had she seen the lad than her heart went out to him, and she loved him even better than she had her ring, and she declared that he and he only should be her husband.

The Tsar did not know what to say to that, for it did not seem fitting that his daughter should marry a common man. But the Tsaritsa begged and plead with him till he could no longer withstand her.

So she and the lad were married with great pomp and magnificence.

His old father and mother were bidden to the wedding, and they could hardly believe their eyes when they saw their son stand there in those costly robes with a crown upon his head and the Tsaritsa beside him as his bride.

The old people were given a house to live in and plenty of money to spend, and they all lived in peace and happiness forever after.



THE TALKING EGGS

A STORY FROM LOUISIANA

There was once a widow who had two daughters, one named Rose and the other Blanche.

Blanche was good and beautiful and gentle, but the mother cared nothing for her and gave her only hard words and harder blows; but she loved Rose as she loved the apple of her eye, because Rose was exactly like herself, coarse-looking, and with a bad temper and a sharp tongue.

Blanche was obliged to work all day, but Rose sat in a chair with folded hands as though she were a fine lady, with nothing in the world to do.

One day the mother sent Blanche to the well for a bucket of water. When she came to the well she saw an old woman sitting there. The woman was so very old that her nose and her chin met, and her cheeks were as wrinkled as a walnut.

"Good day to you, child," said the old woman.

"Good day, auntie," answered Blanche.

"Will you give me a drink of water?" asked the old woman.

"Gladly," said Blanche. She drew the bucket full of water, and tilted it so the old woman could drink, but the crone lifted the bucket in her two hands as though it were a feather and drank and drank till the water was all gone. Blanche had never seen any one drink so much; not a drop was left in the bucket.

"May heaven bless you!" said the old woman, and then she went on her way.

And now Blanche had to fill the bucket again, and it seemed as though her arms would break, she was so tired.

When she went home her mother struck her because she had tarried so long at the well. Her blows made Blanche weep. Rose laughed when she saw her crying.

The very next day the mother became angry over nothing and gave Blanche such a beating that the girl ran away into the woods; she would not stay in the house any longer. She ran on and on, deeper and deeper into the forest, and there, in the deepest part, she met the old woman she had seen beside the well.

"Where are you going, my child? And why are you weeping so bitterly?" asked the crone.

"I am weeping because my mother beat me," answered Blanche; "and now I have run away from her, and I do not know where to go."

"Then come with me," said the old woman. "I will give you a shelter and a bite to eat, and in return there is many a task you can do for me. Only, whatever you may see as we journey along together you must not laugh nor say anything about it."

Blanche promised she would not, and then she trudged away at the old woman's side.

After a while they came to a hedge so thick and wide and so set with thorns that Blanche did not see how they could pass it without being torn to pieces, but the old hag waved her staff, and the branches parted before them and left the path clear. Then, as they passed, the hedge closed together behind them.

Blanche wondered but said nothing.

A little further on they saw two axes fighting together with no hand to hold them. That seemed a curious thing, but still Blanche said nothing.

Further on were two arms that strove against each other without a sound. Still Blanche was silent.

Further on again two heads fought, butting each other like goats. Blanche looked and stared but said no word. Then the heads called to her. "You are a good girl, Blanche. Heaven will reward you."

After that she and her companion came to the hut where the old woman lived. They went in, and the hag bade Blanche gather some sticks of wood and build a fire. Meanwhile she sat down beside the hearth and took off her head. She put it in her lap and began to comb her hair and twist it up.

Blanche was frightened, but she held her peace and built the fire as the old woman had directed. When it was burning the old woman put back her head in place, and told Blanche to look on the shelf behind the door. "There you will find a bone; put it on to boil for our dinners," said she.



Blanche found the bone and put it on to boil, though it seemed a poor dinner.

The old woman gave her a grain of rice and bade her grind it in the mortar. Blanche put the rice in the mortar and ground it with the pestle, and before she had been grinding two minutes the mortar was full of rice, enough for both of them and to spare.

When it was time for dinner she looked in the pot and it was full of good, fresh meat. She and the old woman had all they could eat.

After dinner was over the old woman lay down on the bed. "Oh, my back! Oh, my poor back! How it does ache," groaned she. "Come hither and rub it."

Blanche came over and uncovered the old crone's back, and she was surprised when she saw it; it was as hard and ridgy as a turtle's. Still she said nothing but began to rub it. She rubbed and rubbed till the skin was all worn off her hand.

"That is good," said the old woman. "Now I feel better." She sat up and drew her clothes about her. Then she blew upon Blanche's hand, and at once it was as well as ever.

Blanche stayed with the old woman for three days and served her well; she neither asked questions nor spoke of what she saw.

At the end of that time her mistress said to her, "My child, you have now been with me for three days, and I can keep you here no longer. You have served me well, and you shall not lack your reward. Go to the chicken-house and look in the nests. You will find there a number of eggs. Take all that say to you, 'Take me,' but those that say, 'Do not take me,' you must not touch."

Blanche went out to the chicken-house and looked in the nests. There were ever so many eggs; some of them were large and beautiful and white and shining and so pretty that she longed to take them, but each time she stretched out her hand toward one it cried, "Do not take me." Then she did not touch it. There were also some small, brown, muddy-looking eggs, and these called to her, "Take me!" So those were the ones she took.

When she came back to the house the old woman looked to see which ones she had taken. "You have done what was right," said she, "and you will not regret it." She then showed Blanche a path by which she could return to her own home without having to pass through the thorn hedge.

"As you go throw the eggs behind you," she said, "and you will see what you shall see. One thing I can tell you, your mother will be glad enough to have you home again after that."

Blanche thanked her for the eggs, though she did not think much of them, and started out. After she had gone a little way she threw one of the eggs over her shoulder. It broke on the path, and a whole bucket full of gold poured out from it. Blanche had never seen so much gold in all her life before.

She gathered it up in her apron and went a little farther, and then she threw another egg over her shoulder. When it broke a whole bucket full of diamonds poured out over the path. They fairly dazzled the eyes, they were so bright and sparkling.

Blanche gathered them up, and went on farther, and threw another egg over her shoulder. Out from it came all sorts of fine clothes, embroidered and set all over with gems. Blanche put them on, and then she looked like the most beautiful princess that ever was seen.

She threw the last egg over her shoulder, and there stood a magnificent golden coach drawn by four white horses, and with coachman and footman all complete. Blanche stepped into the coach, and away they rolled to the door of her mother's house without her ever having to give an order or speak a word.

When her mother and sister heard the coach draw up at the door they ran out to see who was coming. There sat Blanche in the coach, all dressed in fine clothes, and with her lap full of gold and diamonds.

Her mother welcomed her in and then began to question her as to how she had become so rich and fine. It did not take her long to learn the whole story.

Nothing would satisfy her but that Rose should go out into the forest, and find the old woman, and get her to take her home with her as a servant.

Rose grumbled and muttered, for she was a lazy girl and had no wish to work for any one, whatever the reward, and she would rather have sat at home and dozed; but her mother pushed her out of the door, and so she had to go.

She slouched along through the forest, and presently she met the old woman. "Will you take me home with you for a servant?" asked Rose.

"Come with me if you will," said the old woman, "but whatever you may see do not laugh nor say anything about it."

"I am a great laugher," said Rose, and then she walked along with the old woman through the forest.

Presently they came to the thorn hedge, and it opened before them just as it had when Blanche had journeyed there. "That is a good thing," said Rose. "If it had not done that, not a step farther would I have gone."

Soon they came to the place where the axes were fighting. Rose looked and stared, and then she began to laugh.

A little later they came to where the arms were striving together, and at that Rose laughed harder still. But when she came to where the heads were butting each other, she laughed hardest of all. Then the heads opened their mouths and spoke to her. "Evil you are, and evil you will be, and no luck will come through your laughter."

Soon after they arrived at the old woman's house. She pushed open the door, and they went in. The crone bade Rose gather sticks and build a fire; she herself sat down by the hearth, and took off her head, and began to comb and plait her hair.

Rose stood and looked and laughed. "What a stupid old woman you are," she said, "to take off your head to comb your hair!" and she laughed and laughed.

The old woman was very angry. Still she did not say anything. She put on her head and made up the fire herself. Rose would not do anything. She would not even put the pot on the fire. She was as lazy at the old woman's house as she was at home, and the old crone was obliged to do the work herself. At the end of three days she said to Rose. "Now you must go home, for you are of no use to anybody, and I will keep you here no longer."

"Very well," said Rose. "I am willing enough to go, but first pay me my wages."

"Very well," said the old woman. "I will pay you. Go out to the chicken-house and look for eggs. All the eggs that say, 'Take me', you may have, but if they say, 'Do not take me', then you must not touch them."

Rose went out to the chicken-house and hunted about and soon found the eggs. Some were large and beautiful and white, and of these she gathered up an apronful, though they cried to her ever so loudly, "Do not take me." Some of the eggs were small and ugly and brown. "Take me! Take me!" they cried.

"A pretty thing if I were to take you," she cried. "You are fit for nothing but to be thrown out on the hillside."

She did not return to the hut to thank the old woman or bid her good-by but set off for home the way she had come. When she reached the thorn thicket it had closed together again. She had to force her way through, and the thorns scratched her face and hands and almost tore the clothes off her back. Still she comforted herself with the thought of all the riches she would get out of the eggs.

She went a little farther, and then she took the eggs out of her apron. "Now I will have a fine coach to travel in the rest of the way," said she, "and gay clothes and diamonds and money," and she threw the eggs down in the path, and they all broke at once. But no clothes, nor jewels, nor fine coach, nor horses came out of them. Instead snakes and toads sprang forth, and all sorts of filth that covered her up to her knees and bespattered her clothing.

Rose shrieked and ran, and the snakes and toads pursued her, spitting venom, and the filth rolled after her like a tide.

She reached her mother's house, and burst open the door, and ran in, closing it behind her. "Look what Blanche has brought on me," she sobbed. "This is all her fault."

The mother looked at her and saw the filth, and she was so angry she would not listen to a word Blanche said. She picked up a stick to beat her, but Blanche ran away out of the house and into the forest. She did not stop for her clothes or her jewels or anything.

She had not gone very far before she heard a noise behind her. She looked over her shoulder, and there was her golden coach rolling after her. Blanche waited until it caught up to her, and then she opened the door and stepped inside, and there were all her diamonds and gold lying in a heap. Her mother and Rose had not been able to keep any of them.

Blanche rode along for a long while, and then she came to a grand castle, and the King and Queen of the country lived there. The coach drew up at the door, and every one came running out to greet her. They thought she must be some great Princess come to visit them, but Blanche told them she was not a Princess, but only the daughter of a poor widow, and that all the fine things she had, had come out of some eggs an old woman had given her.

When the people heard this they were very much surprised. They took her in to see the King and Queen, and the King and Queen made her welcome. She told them her story, and they were so sorry for her they declared she should live there with them always and be as a daughter to them.

So Blanche became a grand lady, and after a while she was married to the Prince, the son of the old King and Queen, and she was beloved by all because she was so good and gentle.

But when Blanche's mother and sister heard of the good fortune that had come to her, and how she had become the bride of the Prince, they were ready to burst with rage and spite. Moreover they turned quite green with envy, and green they may have remained to the end of their lives, for all that I know to the contrary.



THE FROG PRINCESS

A RUSSIAN STORY

There was once a Tsar[1] who had three sons, and they were all dear to him, but the youngest, Ivan, was the dearest of them all.

When the Princes grew to manhood the Tsar began to talk and talk to them about getting married, but it so happened not one of the Princes had ever seen the girl he wished to have for a wife. There were many in the kingdom whom they might well have loved, but not one of them meant more to any of the Princes than another.

"Very well, then," said the Tsar at last, "we will leave it to chance. Take your bows and arrows and come with me into the courtyard. You shall each shoot an arrow, and in whatever places your arrows fall, there shall you take your brides."

The Princes were not greatly pleased with this plan, but still they dared not say no to their father. They took their bows and went with him into the courtyard.

First the eldest son shot his arrow, and he aimed it toward the east, where the sun rises. The arrow fell upon the balcony of a great nobleman's house.

Well and good! The nobleman had a daughter, and she was so stately and handsome that the Prince was very glad to take her for a wife.

Then the second Prince shot an arrow and aimed it toward the west, where the sun is in its glory. He was no less lucky than his brother, for his arrow fell into the court of a rich merchant, and he also had a daughter who was a beauty. So the second son took her for a bride, and he was well content.

Last of all Prince Ivan shot his arrow, and he aimed neither toward the east nor the west, but straight up into the sky above him. Then a sudden gust of wind arose and caught the arrow and blew it away so that it fell in a great swamp. In this swamp were no rich nor beautiful ladies, but only a poor, green, croaking frog.

When the young Prince Ivan saw where his arrow had fallen he was in despair. "How can I marry a frog," said he, "and have her rule with me as my Princess?"

"It is a great pity," said the Tsar; "nevertheless what I have said I have said, and where your arrow fell there must you take your bride."

So Prince Ivan was married to the frog, and the Tsar built a castle on the edge of the swamp for them to live in.

Now the Tsar was growing old, and he began to consider in his mind to which of his sons he would leave his kingdom. Gladly would he have left it to his youngest son, who was his favorite, but it did not seem right that a frog should ever rule over the kingdom as Queen.

At last he called the three Princes before him and said, "My sons, to-morrow let your wives bake me some soft white bread. I will eat of it, and in this way I will know which of you has the cleverest wife, and he who has the cleverest wife shall inherit my kingdom."

After they had heard him the three Princes went away to their own homes, and Prince Ivan was very sad.

"What ails you, my dear husband," said the frog, "that you hang your head and are so downcast?"

"It is no wonder I am downcast," answered Prince Ivan. "My father has commanded that you shall make him a loaf of soft white bread to-morrow, and well I know that your webby fingers can never make bread that he would taste or even so much as look at."

"Do not be too sure of that," answered the frog. "Sleep in peace, and I promise that to-morrow I will provide a loaf that even the Tsar will be glad to eat of."

The Prince did not believe this, but grief is heavy, so no sooner was he in bed than he fell into a deep sleep.

Then the frog arose from beside him and went into a far-off room and took off her frog-skin; for she was really a Princess who had been enchanted. She combed her hair and washed herself and then she went out on the balcony of the castle and cried, "Nurses dear, nurses dear, bring me a loaf of bread such as I used to have in the palace of my own dear father, the King."

After she had called this three times three crows appeared, carrying among them a fine napkin embroidered with gold, and in this napkin was a loaf of bread. They laid the napkin before the Princess and bowed three times, croaking solemnly, and then they flew away again into the night.

The Princess took up the bread and went back into the room and put on her frog-skin again; after that she returned to her chamber and lay down beside her husband.

The next day when the Prince was ready to set out for the Tsar's palace, the frog brought him the loaf of bread still wrapped in the napkin.

"Take this, dear husband," said she, "and carry it to your father, the Tsar, but do not open it on the way lest the dust should spoil the fineness of the bread."

The Prince took the loaf and rode away with it, but he could not forbear from peeping into the napkin to see what was there, and what he saw filled him with admiration and wonder. Quickly he rode on his way, and soon reached the Tsar's palace.

The two older brothers were there, and each brought a loaf of fine white bread that his wife had made.

When Prince Ivan entered his brothers could not forbear from smiling. "Come!" said they, "show us quickly what kind of bread the Frog Princess has made. Does it smell of reeds and rushes?"

The young Prince made no answer but gave what he carried to his father.

When the Tsar saw the fineness of the napkin and the beautiful embroidery upon it he was very much surprised. But he was still more surprised when he opened the napkin and saw what it contained. Never before had he seen such bread. Not only was it soft and light and fine, but it was molded along the sides in cunning scenes, castles and cities, moats and bridges, and upon the top was the imprint of the royal eagle, perfect even to the claws and feathers.

The Tsar could not admire it enough. Still he was not willing to leave the kingdom to Prince Ivan and so make a queen of a frog.

"This is very beautiful, but a loaf of bread is soon eaten and forgotten," said he. "I now wish each one of you to bring me a carpet to lay before my throne, and he who brings me the finest carpet, him will I make my heir."

The Princes returned to their own homes, and the youngest one was very sad and sorrowful.

"What ails you, my dear husband?" asked the frog. "Why are you so downcast, and why do you hang your head. Was not the Tsar pleased with the bread you carried to him?"

"He was well pleased," answered the Prince; "but now he has commanded each one of us to bring him a carpet, and to him who brings the finest carpet he will leave his kingdom. No wonder I am sad, for where, in this swamp, can I find a carpet such as I require?"

"Do not trouble yourself about that," answered the frog. "Do you go and lie down and go quietly to sleep. I will supply you such a carpet as you need."

The Prince did not believe her, but because grief is heavy he lay down and soon fell into a deep sleep.

Again as before the frog stole away to a distant chamber and laid aside her frog-skin. Then she went out on the balcony and cried aloud three times; "Nurses dear, nurses true, bring me a carpet such as lay before my bed in my own home."

At once the three crows appeared, carrying among them a carpet rolled up and covered with a piece of embroidered velvet. They laid the roll before the Princess, bowed three times, and then flew away again.

The Princess carried the carpet back into the chamber and put on her frog-skin again, and then she went back and lay down quietly beside the Prince.

The next morning when the Prince was ready to set out, the frog brought the roll of carpet to him.

"Here," said she; "carry this to your father, but do not open it upon the way lest the dust spoil its beauty."

The Prince took the carpet and rode away. When he reached the Tsar's palace his two brothers were already there, and each had brought with him a piece of carpet so fine and rich that it was difficult to say which of the two was the more beautiful.

When the older brothers saw Ivan they began to laugh. "Come!" said they. "Let us see what kind of a carpet he has brought from his swamp home. No doubt it is very wonderful."

The Prince laid the roll of carpet upon the floor and opened it out and when they saw it every one was struck with wonder. The elder Princes had not a word to say. Never before had they seen such a carpet. Not only was it as thick and soft as eiderdown, but it shone with wondrous colors that changed as one looked at them, and it was embroidered with gold in strange designs.

The Tsar was filled with admiration. All the same he still was unwilling to have a frog reign in his kingdom.

"This is all very well," said he, "and never before have I seen such a beautiful carpet. But now I wish you all to appear before me to-morrow with your wives. Let the Princesses wear their most beautiful dresses and their finest jewels, and whichever of you has the wife best fitted to be Queen, to him will I leave the kingdom."

When the Prince Ivan heard this he was in despair. How could he ever bring the frog to court and present her to the Tsar as though she were a beautiful Princess?

When he went home the frog at once asked him why he was so sad and woebegone. "Is not the kingdom to be yours?" she asked.

"No," answered the Prince, "for now my father, the Tsar, has demanded something else of us." He then told her how the Tsar had bidden him and his brothers bring their wives to court, and had said that whichever of the Princesses was the finest and most beautiful should reign as Queen, and her husband should be the Tsar.

"Do not trouble over that," said the frog. "Only go to bed and sleep quietly. The kingdom shall still be yours."

Then the Prince went to bed, but he only closed his eyes and pretended to go to sleep, for he had grown very curious as to how the frog had been able to provide him with the wonderful loaf and the carpet.

The frog kept very still until she thought the Prince was asleep. Then she arose quietly from his side and slipped away, but the Prince also arose and followed her without her being aware of it. She went to the far-off chamber, and there she laid aside her frog-skin; and when the prince saw her in her human form he was amazed at her beauty, and his heart melted within him for love of her, for her hair was like spun gold, her eyes as blue as the sky, and her skin as white as milk. Never had he seen such a beauty.

The Princess went out on a balcony as she had before, and cried aloud three times, "Nurses dear, nurses true, bring me fine clothes and jewels to wear, richer than ever were seen before."

At once the three crows appeared, carrying with them jewels and fine robes all encrusted with gems and embroidery. These they laid at the Princess's feet and bowed three times, croaking hoarsely, and then they flew away.

The Princess took the robes and jewels back into the chamber to hide them, and while she was doing this Prince Ivan returned to his bed and lay down and closed his eyes as though he were asleep. When the frog came back she looked at him carefully, but he kept so still she never guessed that he had stirred from where he lay.

The next morning the frog bade Ivan ride away alone to the palace of the Tsar. "I will follow you," she said, "and when you hear a great noise, say, 'That is my little Froggie, driving up in her basket made of rushes.'"

The Prince promised to do this and then he rode away to the palace of the Tsar.

His brothers were already there, and their two wives were with them, both so handsome and so magnificently dressed that each looked finer than the other.

When Ivan came in they all began to laugh. "Where is thy dear frog?" they asked. "Is she still asleep among her reeds and rushes, or is she too hoarse to come?"

Even as they spoke there was a great noise outside,—a roaring and rumbling like thunder.

The palace shook until it seemed as though it would fall about their ears. Every one was terrified. Only Prince Ivan was calm.

"There is my little Froggie now," he said; "she is driving up in her little basket of rushes."

At once the noise ceased, the doors were flung open, and a magnificent Princess swept into the room. Never was such a beauty seen before. Her golden hair fell almost to the floor and was bound about with jewels. Her robes were stiff with embroidery and gems. The other Princesses paled before her as stars pale before the rising moon.

Prince Ivan took her by the hand and led her to the Tsar. "This is my dear Princess," said he, "and surely it is she and she only who should reign over this land."

Well, there were no two ways to that. The Tsar could hardly contain himself for joy over the beauty of Prince Ivan's bride. A great feast was spread, and the Tsar himself led the Princess to the table. She sat at his right hand and drank from his jewelled cup, and all was joy and merriment. Only the older brothers and their wives were sad, for they knew they had missed all chance of gaining the kingdom.

Now while they were still at the table, all eating and drinking, Prince Ivan arose and made some excuse for leaving the room. He went quietly and mounted his horse and rode back to his own castle.

There he made haste to the room where his wife had left her frog-skin. He hunted about until he found it, and then he threw it into the fire, for he did not intend that she should ever hide herself away in it again.

At once a clap of thunder sounded, and the Princess stood before him. Her eyes were streaming with tears, and she wrung her hands in grief.

"Alas and woe is me!" she cried. "Why did you burn my frog-skin? A little longer, and I would have been free. Now I must go away and leave you forever."

"But where are you going?" cried the Prince in despair. "Wherever it is I will follow and find you."

"Seek me beyond the seven mountains, beyond the seven seas, in the kingdom of Koshchei the Deathless, for it is in his house I will be," answered the Princess. Then she turned into a great white swan and flew out through the window and far, far away; so far the Prince could no longer see her.

Then Prince Ivan was filled with grief; and he neither stayed nor tarried but set out at once in search of his Princess.

He journeyed on and journeyed on a short way and a long way, and then he met an old man with a grey beard that hung down far below his belt.

"Good day, good youth," said the old man.

"Good day, grandfather," answered Ivan.

"Whither do you journey with so sad a face?" asked the stranger.

"I journey over land and over sea in search of the kingdom of Koshchei the Deathless," answered Ivan.

"Then you have a long journey before you," said the old man. "But why do you seek the kingdom of Koshchei the Deathless, that terrible man?"

"I seek it that I may find what is lost." Then Ivan told the old man his story, all about his frog bride and how she had turned into a Princess,—how he had burned the frog-skin and how she had flown away as a swan, and that now life would be nothing but a burden to him until he could find her again.

The old man shook his head. "Alas! alas! You should never have burned the frog-skin!" he said. He then told Ivan that the name of the Princess was Vasilisa the Fair. "Her mother was the sister of Koshchei the Deathless," said the stranger, "and when she was born it was foretold that before she was eighteen Koshchei should lose his life because of her. It was for this reason that he changed her into a frog and set her in the midst of the lonely swamp. In a month and a day from now the Princess would have been eighteen, and the danger to Koshchei would have been over. Then he would have allowed her to lay aside her frog-skin and take back her human shape. But now he is angry and has carried her away to his castle, and only by the grace of Heaven will you be able to find her and set her free."

The old man then gave Prince Ivan a little ball. "Take this," he said, "and roll it before you as you go. It will show you which way to travel, and with its help you may reach the kingdom of Koshchei."

Ivan took the ball and thanked the old man and journeyed on. He rolled the ball before him, and in whichever direction it rolled he followed.

He went along and went along, until after a while he came to a forest, and there he saw a bear.

Prince Ivan would have shot it, but the bear cried to him, "Do not shoot me, Prince. Take me with you as a servant, and the time may come when I can help you."

"Very well," said the Prince. "Come with me"; so he journeyed on with the bear at his heels.

Presently he saw a wild duck and would have shot it, but the duck called to him, "Do not shoot me, dear Prince. Take me with you, and I will be a faithful servant. The time may come when you will need me."

"Very well," answered the Prince. "You also may come with us as a companion."

So the Prince journeyed along with the bear at his heels and the duck flying overhead.

After a while they came to the edge of a river, and there lay a great fish, gasping out its life in the sunlight.

"Now at last I shall have a good meal," said the Prince.

But the fish cried to him in a human voice, "Throw me back into the river, Prince, that I may live. The time may come when I can do you a good turn also."

So the Prince had mercy on the fish and threw it back into the water.

After that he and his companions traveled on a long way. They journeyed over seven mountains and crossed seven seas, and so they came at last to the kingdom of Koshchei the Deathless.

There the Prince saw a little hut. It stood on hen's legs and turned this way and that, whichever way the wind blew. There was no getting at the door. Then the Prince cried, "Little hut, stand the way my mother built you with your back away from me and your door before me."

At once the hut whirled round and stood with the open door in front of him.

Prince Ivan entered in, and saw a bony-legged Baba Yaga lying on the stove with her grey hair over her face.

"Who are you? And what seek you here in the kingdom of Koshchei the Deathless?" she cried.

"Do not ask questions but rise up and give me food and drink," said the Prince; "for I am both hungry and thirsty."

The Baba Yaga arose and served him food and drink. He ate and gave part to the bear and the duck. Then he told the Baba Yaga why he had come there—that he was wandering in search of his dear wife, Vasilisa the Fair.

The old witch shook her head. "It will be a hard thing to rescue her," she said. "Koshchei is very powerful. Only in one way can you overcome him. Not far from here stands a tree. It is as hard as rock, so that no ax can dent it, and so smooth that none can climb it. On the top of it is a nest. In the nest is an egg. A duck sits over the egg to guard it. In that egg is a needle, and only with that needle can you kill Koshchei the Deathless."

The Baba Yaga then led Prince Ivan to the door and pointed out to him where the tree grew, and Prince Ivan hurried on toward it, with his two faithful servants, the bear and the duck.

But when he reached the tree he looked at it with despair. It was indeed very smooth and high,—as smooth as glass, and when he tried his hunting knife upon it the knife bent and crumpled in his hand.

"Master, now is the time that I can help you," said the bear. He went to the tree and clasped it and shook it, so that its roots cracked, and it fell with a mighty noise.

At once the duck that was guarding the egg caught it up in its claws and flew away with it. But Ivan's duck pursued so fiercely that the other was forced to drop the egg in order to defend itself.

Unfortunately they had both flown over a river, and into this river the egg dropped and was lost to sight.

Ivan sat down upon the bank of the river and wept. "Alas, alas!" he cried. "Now truly is my dear wife lost to me, for never can I recover the egg from the river."

Hardly had he spoken when the fish he had thrown back into the river appeared, bearing the egg in its mouth.

Now Ivan's grief was turned to rejoicing. He broke the egg and took out the needle. Then, with the little ball to lead him, he soon made his way to Koshchei's palace.

The Deathless One rushed out to meet him, but Ivan attacked him with the point of the needle. It was in vain Koshchei tried to protect himself. Ivan drove the needle into him deeper and deeper, and presently Koshchei sank down dead before him, no better than a lump of clay.

Prince Ivan strode across him and on into the castle. From room to room he went, and in the deepest dungeon he found the Princess Vasilisa, his own dear wife. She threw herself into his arms, weeping with joy.

Then they went to Koshchei's treasure room and took from it all the most precious jewels,—all that the faithful bear could carry they loaded upon his back and carried away with them.

After that they journeyed back to their own kingdom, and if any one was glad to see them it was the Tsar himself.

He built for them a castle close to his own, where they could not even see the swamp. There Ivan and his frog princess lived in the greatest love and happiness, and after the old Tsar's death they themselves ruled over the kingdom as the Tsar and Tsaritsa.

——-

[1] King.



THE MAGIC TURBAN, THE MAGIC SWORD AND THE MAGIC CARPET

A PERSIAN STORY

There were once two brothers, the sons of a rich merchant, and when he died he left all his estate to be divided between them equally. This was done, and the elder at once set about trading and improving his condition, so that very soon he became twice as rich as he had been.

But the younger son had no luck. Everything he undertook failed. Moreover, he never had the heart to say no to a friend in need. So before long he was left with not a penny in his purse or a roof over his head.

In his distress he went to his elder brother and asked help of him.

"How is this?" said the elder. "Our father left the same to both of us, and I have prospered in the world and have now become a rich man, but you have not even a roof to shelter your head or a bite to eat."

"Well, that's a long tale," said the younger, "and what is done is done. But give me another chance, and it may be that this time I will succeed in the world."

After they had talked a long time the elder brother consented to give him fifty dollars, but if he wasted that the way he had the rest of his property, he was not to come back again.

The younger brother took the money and went off with it, but it was not long before it had slipped through his fingers just the way his other money had. Before long he was back at his brother's door, asking for help again.

The older brother scolded and reproached him. He was a spendthrift and a waster. But in the end he gave him another fifty dollars, and bade him be off, and not dare to return again.

The younger brother went off with the fifty dollars and this time he was sure he would succeed with it. But his luck was still no better than it had been before. Soon it was all gone, and back he came to his brother's house.

So it went on. The older brother could not rid himself of him. At last the elder brother, seeing there would be no peace for him as long as he remained where he was, made up his mind to sell all his possessions and take the money and journey to a far land without telling his younger brother anything about it.

This he did, but somehow or other the younger one got wind of it. He found what ship his brother was to sail on, and then he crawled aboard at night, when nobody was watching, and hid himself among the cargo.

The next day the ship set sail. Soon they were out at sea. Then the elder brother came out on deck and strutted up and down, and he rejoiced at heart that he had shaken off the younger lad and with good luck might never see him again.

But just as he thought this, whom should he see but the lad coming across the deck to meet him and give him greeting.

The elder was a sick and sorry man. It seemed there was no ridding himself of his brother. At the first port they touched he left the ship, and his brother got off with him, for he had no idea of being left behind.

The elder brother stood there on the shore and looked about him. Then he said, "Listen, now! It is a long way to the town. Do you stay here while I go on farther, beyond yon spit of land, and see whether I can find a dwelling where I can buy us a couple of horses; for I have no wish to journey on foot."

The younger brother was for going along too, but to this the elder would not consent. No, no; the lad was to stay there and watch a box that the elder brother had brought along. (The box had nothing in it, but this the younger brother did not know.)

So the elder brother set out and soon was out of sight, and the younger one sat on the box and kicked his heels and waited, and waited and waited and waited; but his brother never did come back.

Then the lad knew the older one had made a fool of him. He looked in the box and found it empty. So off he set to see whether he could make his own way in the world and no thanks to any one.

He journeyed on a short way and a long way, and so he came to a place where three men were quarreling together fiercely, and the things they were quarreling over were an old turban, a piece of carpet, and a sword.

As soon as they saw the lad they stopped quarreling and ran and caught hold of him. "You shall decide! You shall decide!" they shouted all together.

"What is it you wish me to decide?" asked the lad.

Then the men told him they were three brothers, and that when their father died he had left them these three things,—the turban, the carpet, and the sword. Whoever placed the turban on his head would at once become invisible. Whoever sat on the carpet had only to wish himself wherever he would be, and the carpet would carry him there in a twinkling, and the sword would cut through anything, and no magic could stand against it.

"These things should belong to me, because I am the eldest," cried one of the men.

"No, I should have them because I am the strongest and stoutest," said the second.

"But I am the youngest and weakest and need them most," cried the third. They then began to quarrel again and even came to blows.

"Stop, stop," cried the lad. "You said that I should decide this matter for you, so why quarrel about it? But before I decide I must try the things and see whether what you have told me is really so."

To this the brothers agreed. First they gave him the sword, and the lad took it in his hand and aimed a blow at a rock near by, and the sword cut through the rock as smoothly and easily as though it had been a piece of cheese.

"Now give me the turban," said the lad.

The brothers gave him the turban, and he placed it upon his head and at once became invisible!

"Now the carpet."

The brothers spread out the carpet on the ground, and the lad seated himself upon it with the turban still upon his head and the sword in his hand! Then he wished himself far away in some place where the brothers would never find him.

Immediately he found himself in the outskirts of a large city. He stepped from the carpet and rolled it up and took the turban from his head and looked about him. He had no idea of going back to return the things to the brothers, and if they waited for him they waited a long time. "It will teach them not to quarrel but to live at peace with each other," said the lad to himself. Then he made his way to the nearest house, for he was hungry and meant to ask for a bite to eat.

He knocked, and an old woman opened the door, and she was so old that her chin and her nose met.

"Good day, mother," said the lad.

"Good day to you," answered the crone.

"Will you give me a bite to eat, for the love of charity?"

Yes, the crone would do that. She gave him a bite and a sup and a bit over, and while he was eating and drinking she sat and talked with him.

"What is the news here in the city?" asked the lad.

"Oh the same news as ever."

"And what is that? For I am a stranger here and know no more of yesterday or the week before than of to-day."

"Then I will tell you. Over yonder lies the castle, and the King lives there. He has only one daughter, and she is a beauty, you may believe. Every night the Princess disappears from the castle, and where she goes no one can tell but herself, and she will not. So the King has offered a reward to any one who will find out. The half of his kingdom he offers and the hand of the Princess as well, if only any one can tell him where she goes."

"That is a good hearing," said the lad. "I have a mind to try for that prize myself."

"No, but wait a bit," said the old woman. "There is another side to the story, for if you try and fail your head will be lifted from your shoulders with a sharp sword, and you are too fine a young man to lose your life in that way."

But the lad was determined to try. In vain the old woman warned and entreated him. He thanked her for the meal he had eaten, and then off he set for the palace. There he told the errand that had brought him and after that it did not take long for him to get to see the King.

"So you think you can find out where the Princess goes at night," said the King.

Yes, the lad thought he could.

Very well, then, he might have a try at it, but he must remember that if he tried and failed his head would be cut from his shoulders with a sharp sword.

Yes, the lad understood that, and he was ready to take the risk.

So that night he was taken to the door of a room in a high tower, and the room was of iron and had only one door and one window. Into this room the Princess was put every night, and it would be the duty of the lad to watch at the door and see either that she did not leave it, or where she went.

Presently the Princess came upstairs and passed by the lad without so much as a glance, but his heart leaped within him, she was so beautiful.

She opened the door to go in, and the lad put on his turban of darkness and slipped in after her, but the Princess did not know that because he was invisible. She closed the door tight and sighed three times, and then a great black demon stood before her, and he was terrible to look upon, he was so huge and ugly.

"Oh, my dear Lala," said the Princess, "let us be off at once. I do not know why, but I feel so frightened, just as though some misfortune were about to come upon me."

"That is nonsense," said the demon. "But do you seat yourself upon my head, and we will be off at once."

The demon wore a buckler upon his head, and now he stooped, and she seated herself upon it, but the lad was quick and sprang up and took his place beside her.

"Ai! Ai!" cried the demon, "but you are heavy to-day, Princess."



"I do not know what you mean," answered the Princess. "I am no heavier and no lighter than I was last night."

Then the demon flew out through the window and away through the night so fast that the lad had much ado to keep from falling off.

After a while they came to a garden the like of which the lad had never seen before and never expected to see again, for the leaves of the trees were of silver, and the branches were of gold, and the fruits were emeralds and rubies.

As they passed through it the lad stretched out his hand and broke off a twig and put it in his bosom. Then all the trees in the garden began to sigh and moan.

"Child of man! Child of man! why do you break and torture us?"

The Princess shuddered. "Some one besides ourselves is here in the garden," she cried.

"That cannot be, or we would see him," answered the demon, but he was frightened and flew on faster than before.

Presently they came to another garden and it was even more wonderful than the first, for here the trees were of diamonds, and the fruits of every kind of precious stones you can think of.

As they passed through it the lad stretched out his hand and broke off a twig. Then all the trees began to sigh and moan.

"Child of man! Child of man! Why do you break and torture us?" they cried.

"Oh, my dear Lala, what did I tell you?" asked the Princess. "I am afraid"; and she trembled all over her body.

The demon answered nothing, but he flew on even faster than ever.

Soon after they came to a magnificent palace, and the demon flew in through a window and alighted. Then the Princess and the lad leaped down from the buckler, and the demon was glad to have the weight off him. After that he vanished.

The Princess opened a door and went into another room, with the lad close behind her, and there was the King of all the demons, and he was so huge and black that the demon Lala was nothing to him.

"My dearest dear one, why are you so late to-night?" asked he of the Princess.

"I do not know what was the matter," answered the fair one, "but something is terribly wrong"; and she told him all that had happened.

The Demon laughed at her. "You are nervous," said he. "But come! You have not kissed me yet."

He came close to the Princess to kiss her, but the lad stepped between them and gave the Demon such a push that he almost fell over; at the same time he himself gave the Princess a kiss upon the cheek.

"Why do you push me away?" cried the Demon, and he was very angry.

The Princess began to tremble again. "I did not push you," said she. "Moreover, some one kissed me on the cheek. I am sure somebody is in the room with us."

The King Demon looked all around, but he could see nobody. Then he called a slave to bring the Princess the jeweled slippers she always wore when she came to his palace.

The slave brought the slippers on a golden cushion, and they were crusted over with pearls and precious stones. He knelt before the Princess, and she took one and put it on, but at the same time the lad took the other and slipped it in his bosom. The Princess and the Demon did not know what had become of it. They hunted everywhere, but they could not find it.

"There, now! See how careless you are," said the Demon; and he bade the slave bring another pair of slippers.

This the slave did, but it was the same with this pair as with the others. While the Princess was putting on one slipper the lad took the other and hid it in his bosom. The Princess and the Demon and the slave all looked for it, but they could not find it.

At that the Princess flew into a passion and threw both the slippers away from her.

"I do not care," said she; "and now I will not wear any slippers at all."

"Never mind!" answered the Demon. "We will have a sherbet together, and after that we will eat."

He clapped his hands, and another slave appeared, bearing two crystal goblets full of sherbet. The Princess took one goblet and the Demon the other. Just as they were about to drink the lad smote the crystal goblet from the Princess's hand so that it fell upon the marble floor and was shattered, and all the sherbet was spilled.

The lad picked up a splinter of the crystal and hid it in his bosom with the golden twig, the diamond twig, and the two slippers. But the Princess shook and trembled until she could hardly stand, and even the Demon was troubled.

"Why did you cast the goblet on the floor?" he asked.

"I did not," answered the Princess, "but some one struck it from my hand"; and she began to weep.

The Demon comforted her and bade other slaves bring in the feast that had been prepared for him and the Princess.

Quickly the slaves brought it and placed it before them. The lad had never seen such a feast. All the dishes were of gold and were carved to represent scenes in demon life, and the handles were set thick with precious stones and enamelled in strange colors. There were all sorts of delicious things to eat, so that the lad's mouth watered at the smell of them.

The Demon and the Princess sat down to eat, but it was small good the Princess got of the feast, for every time the Demon put anything on her plate the lad snatched it away and ate it, and the Princess was left hungry. The lad also took one of the golden forks and one of the golden spoons and hid them in his bosom.

"What did I tell you," cried the Princess. "Something is wrong! Something is terribly wrong."

"Yes, I can see that myself," said the King Demon. "You had better go on home again, for we will get no pleasure out of this night, and that I can easily see."

Lala was called, the Princess mounted the buckler in haste, and away the Demon flew with her. But this time the lad did not fly with them.

He waited until they were gone, and then he drew the Sword of Sharpness and smote the King Demon's head from his shoulders.

At once a clap of thunder sounded; the castle rocked, and the walls crumbled about him. The trees in the gardens were withered, and a thick darkness fell, while all about him sounded cries and groans.

But the lad seated himself upon the carpet and wished himself back at the door of the room in the tower, and there he was in a twinkling, long before Lala had flown in through the window with the Princess, even though he flew as swiftly as the wind.

The lad took off the Turban of Darkness, and rolled up the carpet, and lay down and closed his eyes as though he were asleep.

Presently the Princess opened the door and peered out. There lay the lad, snoring and with his eyes closed. The Princess drew a sharp needle and ran it into the lad's heel, but he never flinched, so she felt sure he was asleep.

"Thou fool!" said she scornfully. "Sleep on, and to-morrow thou shalt pay the penalty."

Then she went back into the room and closed the door.

The next day the Princess called the guards and bade them carry the lad away and cut the head from his shoulders.

"Wait a bit," said the lad. "Do not be in such a hurry. First we must appear before thy father the King; he must decide in this case, and it may be I have something to tell him that will be worth the hearing."

The Princess could not refuse this, so she and the lad were brought before the King, and the lad began to tell his story. When he came to the part where the great black Demon had come and flown away with the Princess she turned first as red as blood and then as pale as death.

"It is not true!" she cried, but the King bade her be silent.

Then the lad told how they had flown through the gardens. "It is all a wicked lie," moaned the Princess, but the lad drew forth the twigs he had broken from the trees and showed them to the King as proof of his truth.

After that the lad told of how they had entered the castle, and how the King Demon had tried to kiss the Princess, and of the shattered goblet and the uneaten feast, and he had the splinter of crystal and the spoon and fork to show, so the King knew it was all true, and the Princess looked as though she wished she were dead.

Last of all he told how the Princess had returned on the Demon's buckler, and how he had remained behind and cut off the King Demon's head, and how the castle had fallen and the gardens had withered, and all had become darkness and confusion.

When the Princess heard this she gave a shriek of joy. "Then you have saved me!" she cried. "Never again need I fly forth at night at the will of the Demon nor be his slave!"

Then it was her turn to tell her story. She told how one time the King Demon had seen her walking in the palace gardens and had fallen in love with her, and how he had used his magic to gain power over her. She told how she hated him and feared him, but how against her will he had forced her to come to visit him every night in his castle and had sent the demon Lala to fetch her. But now that the King Demon was dead, she was free, and it was the lad who had saved her.

When the King, her father, heard this, he marveled greatly. Glad was he that such a brave lad was to be his son-in-law, for that was his promise. The lad and the Princess were betrothed then and there, and the King gave orders that a grand wedding feast should be prepared, for they were to be married as soon as possible. All the good folks far and near were invited to come to the feast.

The lad's elder brother was invited with the rest, but he never dreamed that the brave lad who was to marry the Princess was his own younger brother.

He came to the palace on the feast day and took his place at the table with the other guests, and then he looked up at the three thrones where the King and the Princess and the lad were sitting, and there it was his own younger brother who sat there.

When the man saw that he was afraid, for he remembered how he had deserted the lad on the seashore to live or die as fate willed, and he feared he might be punished for it.

But the younger brother bore him no grudge, but was grateful to him for what he had done. As soon as he saw the elder one there among the guests, he sent a servant for him and placed him in the seat of honor and called him brother.

So all was happiness and rejoicing. Everybody was happy, but the lad and the Princess were happiest of all, because they loved each other and had just been married.



THE THREE SILVER CITRONS

A PERSIAN STORY

There was once a King who had three sons, and he loved them all equally, one no more than the other.

When he had grown old and felt his strength leaving him, he called the three Princes before him.

"My sons," said he, "I am no longer young, and soon the time will come when I must leave you. I have it in mind to give the kingdom to one or the other of you now and not to leave it for you to quarrel over after I have gone. You have reached a time of life when you should marry. Go forth into the world and seek, each one of you, a bride for himself. He who brings home the most beautiful Princess shall have the kingdom."

The three Princes were well content with what their father said. At once the two elder ones made ready to set out; but the youngest one said he would wait a bit. "It is not right," said he, "that our father should be left alone in his old age. I will wait until my brothers return, and then I too will start out to try my fortune in the world."

That was good hearing for the older Princes, for they had always been a bit jealous of their younger brother and were just as well pleased not to have him with them.

Before they set out they packed a bag full of food to carry with them, for they had no wish to starve by the wayside. They took baked meats and boiled meats, and little cakes and big cakes, and fine white bread, and wine to drink.

Well, off they set, and on they went, a short way and a long way, until they came to the edge of a forest, and there they sat down in the shade to eat; and when they spread the food out before them it made a fine feast I can tell you.

Just as they were about to begin an old woman came hobbling out of the forest. She was so old that her nose and her chin met and she was so bent that she could barely get along even with the help of the crutch she had.

"Good masters, give me a bite and a sup, I beg of you," she said. "It is a hundred years since I have tasted anything but black bread."

"If you have lived on black bread that long you can live on it a little longer," said one of the Princes, and then they both laughed. However, they bade the old crone come back there after they had gone, and it might be she would find some broken bits lying round, and those she might have if she cared to gather them up.

Then the Princes went on eating and drinking, and after they had finished they journeyed on again.

Presently they came to a cross roads, and there they separated; one went east and one went west. The eldest Prince took the east road, and soon it brought him to a castle, and in this castle lived a Princess who was as pretty as a picture. It was not long before the Prince won her to be his wife, for he was a stout and comely lad, and as soon as they were married he set out for home, taking his bride with him.

As it happened with the eldest Prince, so it did with the second brother. He also found a castle and a Princess, and won her to be his bride, and brought her home with him to his father's house; and when the two Princesses met it was hard to choose between them, they were both so pretty. It seemed as though the kingdom would have to be divided between the elder brothers and their pretty brides.

But first it was only right that the youngest Prince should have a chance, so now that his brothers had returned he was ready to set out into the wide world and see what sort of a beauty he could pick up. His brothers laughed at him, for they had never had much of an opinion of his wit, even though they were jealous of him.

"Only see that she has two eyes and a stout pair of hands," said they. "Our Princesses will find something for her to do about the palace, no doubt, and as for you, you shall always have a warm place in the chimney corner where you can sit."

The youngest Prince answered never a word, but he put some food in a scrip and off he set.

He journeyed on and on, a short way and a long way, and then he too came to the forest and sat down in the shade to eat, as his brothers had done before him.

Presently the old crone came hobbling out from the forest, and she was more bent and hideous than ever.

"Good youth, give me a bite and sup, I beg of you," she said. "It is a hundred years since I have tasted anything but black bread."

"Then it is high time you had something else to eat," said the Prince, and he gave her the best of all he had, both food and wine.

The old woman ate and drank, and by the time she finished there was little enough left for the Prince. Then she drew out from her sleeve a pretty little pipe and gave it to him. "Take this," she said, "and if there is anything you wish for play a tune upon the pipe, and it may help you to find it."

After that she disappeared into the forest again.

The Prince hung his scrip over his shoulder, and then he was ready to set out, but first he thought he might as well see what the pipe was good for. He set it to his lips and blew a tune.

Immediately a score of little black Trolls with long noses appeared before him. "Master, here we are!" they cried. "What would you have of us?"

"I did not know I was your master," thought the Prince, but what he said was, "What I want is the prettiest Princess in twelve kingdoms for a bride, and if you can get me such a one I'll thank you kindly."

"We know where to find such a Princess, and we can show you the way," said the oldest and blackest of the Trolls, "but we ourselves cannot touch her. You will have to win her for yourself."

Well, that suited the Prince, and if they would only show him the Princess he would do his best to get her. So off they set, and presently they came to a high mountain, and it belonged to the King of the Trolls. The Prince blew upon the pipe again, and the mountain opened before him. He went in, and there he was in a great chamber, where the Troll kept the three daughters of three Kings whom he had taken captive and brought there, and they were so beautiful that their beauty lighted the whole place so there was no need of lamps.

When the girls saw the Prince they were terrified and began to run about this way and that, looking for a place to hide; but they could find no place, for the chamber was quite smooth and bare. Then they changed themselves into three silver citrons and rolled about this way and that, all over the room.

The Prince was terribly distressed that the girls had changed into citrons, for they were so lovely that he would have been glad to have any one of them for a wife.

However, he took up the citrons and hid them in his bosom, and then, as there seemed nothing better to do, he set out for home again, for after having seen three such beauties as that he would never be satisfied with any one else.

After a while as he journeyed he came to the wood where he had seen the old crone before, and there she was, waiting for him.

"Well, and did you get what you set out to search for?" she asked.

"I did and I didn't," answered the Prince;—and then he told her the whole story and showed her the three citrons that he still carried in his bosom. "They are three beauties, I can tell you," said he, "but of what use are they as long as they remain as citrons?"

"I may be able to help you again," said the old hag. She then gave him a silver knife and a little golden cup. "Keep the citrons until you come to a running stream. Then take one,—whichever one you please,—and cut it open with this knife. At once one of the Princesses will appear. She will ask you for a drink of water. Give it to her immediately in this golden cup, and after that she will remain with you and you can have her for your wife."

The Prince was delighted. He took the knife and cup and thanked the old woman gratefully, and then she again disappeared in the shadow of the forest.

The Prince journeyed on until he came to a running stream, and it was not so very far from his father's palace. Then he got out the knife and the cup and one of the citrons. He cut the citron, and at once one of the Princesses appeared before him. If she had looked a beauty when he saw her in the mountain she was ten times lovelier, now that he saw her in the light of day. The Prince could only gape and gape at her.