The Enchanted Doe

THERE was once a certain king named Jannone, who, desiring greatly to have children, had prayers continually made to Thor that he would grant his wish; and he was so charitable that at last he had nothing in his pocket. Then he bolted his door fast and shot with a cross-bow at whoever came near.

Now, it happened that about this time a long-bearded ragamuffin was passing that way; and not knowing that the king had turned over a new leaf, or perhaps knowing it and wishing to make him change his mind again, he went to Jannone and begged for food and shelter in his house. But with a fierce look and a terrible growl, the king said to him, "If you have no other candle than this, you may go to bed in the dark. The time is gone by; I am no longer a fool." And when the old man asked what was the cause of this change, the king answered,

"From my desire to have children I have spent and have lent to all who came and all who went, and have squandered away my wealth. At last, seeing that the beard was gone, I laid aside the razor."

"If that is all," answered the old man, "you may set your mind at rest, for I promise that your wish shall be fulfilled, on pain of losing my ears."

"Be it so," said the king, "and I pledge my word that I will give you one half of my kingdom in case."

The old ragamuffin said, "You have only to get the heart of a sea-dragon, and have it dressed for table by a young maiden. And as soon as the heart is dressed, give it to the queen to eat, and you'll see that what I say will speedily come to pass."

"If that is so," answered the king, "I must this very moment get the dragon's heart."

So he sent out a hundred fishermen, and they got ready all kinds of fishing-tackle, drag-nets, casting nets, seinenets, bow-nets, and fishing-lines; and they tacked and turned, and cruised in all directions, till at last they caught a dragon; then they took out its heart and brought it to the king, who gave it to a handsome young lady to dress.

When the heart was dressed, and the queen had tasted it, in a few days she and the young lady both had a son, so like the one to the other that nobody could tell which was which. And the boys grew up together in such love for one another that they could not be parted for a moment. Their attachment was so great that the queen began to be jealous at seeing her son show more affection for the son of one of her servants than he did for herself; and she did not know how to remove this thorn from her eyes.

Now, one day the prince wished to go hunting with his companion, he had a fire lighted in the fireplace in his chamber, and began to melt lead to make balls; and being in want of something, he went to look for it. Meanwhile the queen came in to see what her son was about, and finding nobody there but the son of her servant, she thought to put him out of the world. Stooping down, she flung the hot bulletmould at his face, which hit him over the brow and gave him an ugly wound.

She was just going to repeat the blow when her son Fonzo came in. She pretended that she was only come to see how he was, after giving him a few trifling caresses she went away.

Girlum, pulling his hat down on his forehead, said nothing of his wound to Fonzo, but stood quite quiet, though he was burning with the pain. And as soon as they had done making balls, he requested leave of the prince to go away for a long time. Fonzo, all in amazement, asked him the reason; but he answered, "Ask no more, my dear Fonzo, it is enough to know that I have to leave you; and Valhalla knows that in parting with you, who are my heart, the soul is ready to leave my bosom. But since it cannot be otherwise, farewell, and remember me!"

Then, after embracing the prince and shedding many tears, Girlum went to his own room and put on a suit of armour and a magic sword. Then he armed himself from top to toe. When he had taken a horse out of the stable and was just putting his foot into the stirrup, Fonzo came weeping and said, that since his friend was resolved to abandon him, he must at least leave him some token of his love. On this Girlum laid hold on his dagger and stuck it into the ground, and at once a fine fountain rose up. Then said he to the prince, "This is the best token I can leave you, for by the flowing of this fountain you will know the course of my life. If you see it run clear, know that my life is likewise clear and tranquil; if you see it turbid, think that I am passing through troubles; and if you find it dry (the rain- bearded thundergod forbid!), depend on it that the oil of my lamp is all consumed, and that I have paid my toll to nature."

So saying he took his sword, and sticking it into the ground he made a plant of myrtle spring up, saying to the prince, "As long as you see this myrtle green, know that I am flourishing. If you see it wither, think that my fortunes are not the best in the world. But if it becomes quite dried up, you may say a deep goodbye to me."

Girlum set out on his travels, and journeying on and on, after various adventures, he at last arrived at Long-Trellis, just at the time when they were holding a splendid tournament there, and the hand of the king's daughter was promised to the victor. Here Girlum presented himself and bore him so bravely that he overthrew all the knights who were come. Then Prine, the king's daughter, was given to him in marriage, and a great feast was made.

When Girlum had been there some months in peace and quiet, an unhappy fancy came into his head for going out to hunt.

He told it to the king, who said to him, "Keep your wits about you, for in these woods there is an ogre who changes his form every day, one time appearing like a wolf, at another like a lion, now like a stag, now like a donkey, now like one thing and now like another; and by a thousand tricks he decoys those who are so unfortunate as to meet him into a cave, where he devours them."

Girlum, who did not know what fear was, paid no heed to the advice of his father-in-law, and as soon as the sun was up he set out for the chase. On his way he came to the dark wood where the ogre lived. The monster was close at hand. Seeing Girlum coming, the ogre turned himself into a beautiful doe, and as soon as Girlum saw the creature he gave chase. But the doe doubled and turned, and led him about here and there at such a rate that at last she decoyed him into the very heart of the wood, where she brought down such a tremendous snowstorm that it looked as if the sky was going to fall.

Girlum, finding himself in front of the ogre's cave, went into it to seek shelter, and being benumbed with the cold he took some sticks which he found inside, and pulling his steel out of his pocket he kindled a large fire. As he was standing by it to dry his clothes the doe came to the mouth of the cave and said, "Hello, give me leave to warm myself a little while, for I am shivering with the cold."

Girlum, who was of a kind disposition, said to her, "Draw near, and welcome."

"I would gladly," answered the doe, "but that I am afraid you would kill me."

"Fear nothing," answered Girlum; "come, trust to my word."

"If you wish me to enter," rejoined the doe, "tie up those dogs that they may not hurt me, and tie up your horse that he may not kick me."

So Girlum tied up his dogs and tethered his horse, and the doe said, "I am now half assured, but unless you bind fast your sword, by the soul of my grandsire I will not go in!" Then Girlum, who wished to become friends with the doe, put away his sword.

As soon as the ogre saw Girlum defenceless, he took his own shape, and laying hold on him, flung him into a pit that was at the bottom of the cave, and covered it up with a stone, to keep him to eat.

In the meantime, Fonzo, who morning and evening visited the myrtle and the fountain to learn news of the fate of Girlum, found the one withered and the other troubled. He at once thought that his friend was passing through misfortunes. Desiring to help him, he mounted his horse without asking leave of his father or mother. He armed himself well, took with him two enchanted dogs, and went rambling through the world. He roamed and rambled here and there and everywhere till at last he came to Long-Trellis, which he found all in mourning for the supposed death of Girlum.

Scarcely was he come to the court when everyone, thinking it was Girlum, because they were so like one another, hastened to tell Prine the good news. She ran tumbling down the stairs, and embraced Fonzo, exclaimed, "My husband, my heart, where have you been all this time?"

Fonzo at once understood that Girlum had come to this country and had left it again. So he resolved to examine into the matter carefully, to learn from the princess where his friend might be found. Hearing her say that he had put himself in great danger by hunting, especially if the cruel ogre had met him, he concluded that his friend must be in the forest. So without waiting another moment, in spite of the prayers of Prine and the commands of the king, off he rode to the forest with his enchanted dogs. The same thing befell him that had befallen Girlum; and entering the cave he saw his friend's arms and dogs and horse fast bound. Then he became certain that their owner had there fallen into a snare. The doe told him to put away his arms, and tie up his dogs and horses; but he at once set them on her, and they tore her to pieces. And as he was looking about for some other traces of his friend, he heard his voice down in the pit. Lifting up the stone, he drew out Girlum, with all the others whom the ogre had buried alive to fatten. Then embracing each other with great joy, the two friends went home, where Prine, seeing them so much alike, did not know which to choose for her husband. But when Girlum took off his cap she saw the old wound, and recognized and embraced him.

After staying with them a merry month, Fonzo wished to return to his own country and to his own nest. Girlum sent a letter by him to his mother, bidding her come and share his greatness. This she did, and lived happily with her son and his wife Prine.

Don Aldino Pear

There were once three brothers who owned a pear-tree and lived on the pears. One day one of the brothers went to pick these pears, and found that they had been gathered.

"Oh! brothers! what shall we do, for our pears have been picked?"

So the eldest went and remained in the garden to guard the pear-tree during the night. He fell asleep, however, and the next morning the second brother came and said:

"What have you done, my brother? Have you been sleeping? Do you not see that the pears have been picked? Tonight I will stay."

That night the second brother remained.

The next morning the youngest went there and saw more of the pears picked, and said,

"Were you the one that was going to keep a good watch? Go, I will stay here tonight; we shall see whether they can cheat me to my face."

At night the youngest brother began to play and dance under the pear-tree. While he was not playing, a fox, believing that the youth had gone to sleep, came out and climbed the tree and picked the rest of the pears. When it was coming down the tree, the youth quickly aimed his gun at it and was about to shoot. The fox said:

"Don't shoot me, Don Aldino; for I will have you called Don Aldino Pear, and will make you marry the king's daughter."

Don Aldino answered, "And where shall I see you again? What has the king to do with you? With one kick that he would give you, you would never appear before him again."

Still , out of pity Don Aldino Pear let her escape. The fox went away to a forest and caught all sorts of game, squirrels, hares, and quails, and carried them to the king. It was a sight. "Sir Majesty, Don Aldino Pear sends me; you must accept this game."

The king said, "Listen, little fox, I accept this game; but I have never heard this Don Aldino Pear mentioned."

The fox left the game there, and ran away to Don Aldino. "Softly, Don Aldino, I have taken the first step; I have been to the king and carried him the first game, and he accepted it."

A week later the fox went to the forest, caught the best animals, squirrels, hares, birds, and took them to the king. "Don Aldino Pear sends me to you with this game."

The king said to the fox, "My daughter, I don't know who this Don Aldino Pear is; I am afraid you have been sent somewhere else! I will tell you what: have this Don Aldino Pear come here, so that I can get to know him."

The fox wished to leave the game, and said, "I am not mistaken; my master sent me here; and for a token he said that he wished the princess for his wife."

The fox returned to Don Aldino Pear, and said to him, "Softly, things are going well; after I have been to the king again, the matter is settled."

Don Aldino said, "I will not believe you until I have my wife."

The fox now went to an ogress and said, "Friend, friend, don't we have to divide the gold and silver?"

"Certainly," said the ogress to the fox; "go and get the measure and we will divide the gold from the silver."

The fox went to the king and did not say, "The ogress wants to borrow your measure;" but she said, "Don Aldino Pear wants to borrow, for a short time, your measure to separate the gold from the silver."

"What!" said the king, "has this Don Aldino Pear such great riches? Is he then richer than I?" And he gave the fox the measure. When he was alone with his daughter he said to her, in the course of his conversation:

"This Don Aldino Pear must be very rich, for he divides the gold and silver."

The fox carried the measure to the ogress, who began to measure and heap up gold and silver. When she had finished, the fox went to Don Aldino Pear and dressed him in new clothes, a watch with diamonds, rings, a ring for his betrothed, and everything that was needed for the marriage. "Behold, Don Aldino," said the fox, "I am going before you now; you go to the king and get your bride and then go to the church."

Don Aldino went to the king; got his bride, and they went to the church. After they were married, the princess got into the carriage and the bridegroom mounted his horse. The fox made a sign to Don Aldino and said,

"I will go before you; you follow me and let the carriages and horses come after."

They started on their way, and came to a sheep-farm which belonged to the ogress. The boy who was tending the sheep, when he saw the fox approach, threw a stone at her, and she began to weep. "Ah!" she said to the boy; "now I will have you killed. Do you see those horsemen? Now I will have you killed!" The youth, terrified, said:

"If you will not do anything to me I will not throw any more stones at you."

The fox replied:

"If you don't want to be killed, when the king passes and asks you whose is this sheep-farm, you must tell him: 'Don Aldino Pear's,' for Don Aldino Pear is his son-in-law, and he will reward you."

The cavalcade passed by, and the king asked the boy:

"Whose is this sheep-farm?" The boy replied at once:

"Don Aldino Pear's."

The king gave him some money.

The fox kept about ten paces before Don Aldino, and the latter did nothing but say in a low tone:

"Where are you taking me, fox? What lands do I possess that you can make me believed to be rich? Where are we going?" The fox replied:

"Softly, Don Aldino, and leave it to me."

They went on and on, and the fox saw another farm of cattle, with the herdsman. The same thing happened there as with the shepherd: the stone thrown and the fox's threat. The king passed. "Herdsman, whose is this farm of cattle?"

"Don Aldino Pear's."

And the king, astonished at his son-in-law's wealth, gave the herdsman a piece of gold.

Don Aldino was pleased on the one hand, but on the other was perplexed and did not know how it was to turn out. When the fox turned around, Aldino said:

"Where are you taking me, fox? You are ruining me."

The fox kept on as if she had nothing to do with the matter. Then she came to another farm of horses and mares. The boy who was tending them threw a stone at the fox. She frightened him, and he told the king, when the king asked him, that the farm was Don Aldino Pear's.

They kept on and came to a well, and near it the ogress was sitting. The fox began to run and pretended to be in great terror. "Friend, friend, see, they are coming! These horsemen will kill us! Let us hide in the well, shall we not?"

"Yes, friend," said the ogress in alarm.

"Shall I throw you down first?" said the fox.

"Certainly, friend."

Then the fox threw the ogress down the well, and then entered the ogress' palace. Don Aldino Pear followed the fox, with his wife, his father-in-law, and all the riders. The fox showed them through all the apartments, displaying the riches, Don Aldino Pear contented at having found his fortune, and the king still more contented because his daughter was so richly settled. There was a festival for a few days, and then the king, well satisfied, returned to his own country and his daughter remained with her husband.

One day the fox was looking out of the window, and Don Aldino Pear and his wife were going up to the terrace. Don Aldino Pear took up a little dust from the terrace and threw it at the fox's head.

The fox raised her eyes. "What is the meaning of this, after the good I have done you, miserable fellow?" said she to Don Aldino. "Take care or I will speak!"

The wife said to her husband,

"What is the matter with the fox, to speak thus?"

"Nothing," answered her husband. "I threw a little dust at her and she got angry."

Don Aldino took up a little more dust and threw it at the fox's head. The fox, in a rage, cried,

"Aldino, you see I will speak! And I declare that you were the owner of a pear- tree!"

Don Aldino was frightened, for the fox told his wife everything. So he took an earthen jar and threw it at the fox's head, and so got rid of her. Thus - the ungrateful fellow that he was - he killed the one who had done him so much kindness, but nevertheless he enjoyed all his wealth with his wife.

[Crane, retold]

Ti-Tiriti-Ti

ONCE on a time there was a little old peasant who had but one small field no bigger than the palm of your hand, and all full of stones and briars. He had set up a hayrick in it, and there he lived, digging, sowing, and weeding, from year's end to year's end, and farming it as best he could.

When it was time to rest he would pull a whistle from his pocket, and "Ti-tiriti-ti" went the tune, always the same one; then he would go to work again.

But all this time the poor little bit of a field, full of stones and briars, yielded him more profits than a farm. When his neighbours gathered in twenty times what they had sown, he was sure to have a hundredfold, to say the least.

Some of his neighbours were full of spite and envy. At one time not one of them would have taken that bit of ground, even as a gift; and now that he had it, there was nothing they would not have done to get it away from him.

"I say, neighbour, don't you want to get rid of that heap of stones? . . . I know someone who would pay you three times its value."

But the peasant would answer:

"These stones are all my own, Not even the king on his throne can make me give them away!""

And another would say: "Neighbour, don't you want to get rid of these stones? I know somebody who would be glad to pay you three times their value."

But the answer was always:

"These stones are all my own,
Not even the king on his throne
Can make me give them away!""

Now, it once happened that the king passed that way, accompanied by his ministers. When he saw the little field (which looked more like a garden, so green and flourishing was its crop, while the corn in the fields round about was so poor and faded it looked like the bristles of an old brush), he stopped, struck with amazement, and said to his ministers, "What a fine crop of corn! I would willingly buy that field."

"May it please your majesty, but it is not for sale. It belongs to a very odd sort of man, who answers all offers with these words:

"These stones are all my own,
Not even the king on his throne
Can make me give them away!""

"Oh, I should like to see if he'll answer me that way!" said the king; and he ordered the peasant to be called to him.

"Is it true that you would not give up your field even to the king?"

"You have so many fields, what good would my poor heap of stones do you?"

"But supposing he wanted them . . .?"

"Supposing he wanted them? . . . Ah!

"These stones are all my own,
Not even the king on his throne
Can make me give them away!""

The king made believe to have taken no offence at this; but during the night he sent a hundred guardsmen to trample down the crop without making any noise, so as not to leave so much as one blade of grass standing upright. You may think what a sight met the peasant's eyes the next morning when he came out from his hayrick. Everything destroyed! And all his kind neighbours standing there staring over the hedge with the greatest satisfaction, though they tried to look as if they were sorry.

"Ah, neighbour, neighbour!" said they. " If you had but sold your heap of stones in time, this misfortune would not have befallen you!"

But to all this he answered not a word, just as though they had not been speaking to him. When they had all taken themselves off about their business, he pulled his whistle out of his pocket, and "Ti-tiriti-ti" the corn began to rise up again; and "Ti-tiriti-ti" it all stood up quite straight, as if nothing had happened to it.

The king, quite sure of his affair, sent for the peasant and began, "I hear there is someone who bears you a grudge, my man, and that last night your crop of corn was half-destroyed. Now, sell me that heap of stones of yours; when the folk know they are mine they'll keep at a respectful distance."

"Please, what has been told you is not true; my crop is finer than ever."

The king bit his lips. So, then, his orders had not been obeyed! And he blamed the ministers. But when they told him that the poor guardsmen could not even move they had stamped so hard all night, he was astounded.

"Then to-night turn all my flocks into the field!"

Next morning, when the peasant came out from his hayrick, what a sight he beheld! The ground was perfectly stripped and as smooth as satin.

And his good neighbours, as usual, were saying:

"Ah, neighbour, neighbour! If you had but taken advice, and sold that heap of stones there, this new misfortune would not have fallen upon you!"

But he, without a word, went shuffling about as if they had not been speaking to him.

When at last they had all gone about their business, out he pulled his whistle, and "Ti-tiriti-ti" the corn began to sprout up again; and "Ti-tiriti-ti" the corn was waving high and green, as if nothing had ever happened to it.

This time the king was quite sure he had won the day. He wanted to see that man! Just think what a face he would make!

So no sooner did the peasant come into his presence than he said. "There really must be someone who bears you a grudge, poor fellow. I hear that last night your crop of corn was again quite destroyed. Come now! You sell me that heap of stones of yours; when the people know they belong to me, they'll look at them from a respectful distance."

"But my crop is not destroyed. It is finer than ever!"

The king bit his lips for spite. Then his orders had not been obeyed this time either!

And he found fault with his ministers. But the ministers told him that the nocks had eaten so much during the night that the sheep were all swollen to bursting, and that half of them had already died of repletion! The king was more astonished than ever.

"There is some mystery in all this. You must find it out. I give you three days' time!"

Now. there was no joking with the king. The ministers set to scratching their bald heads, in hopes of getting some idea out of them, and they thought and thought! . . .

At last one proposed to go in the night-time, and hide behind that accursed peasant's hayrick till daybreak. Who could know what might happen? That was a good idea! So they went; and as there were several openings in the rick, they set to peeping in through them.

All night the king was not able to close an eye for thinking of what had happened, and next morning, first thing, he had his ministers called to him.

"Oh, please! What a sight we have seen! What a sight we have seen!"

"What have you seen then? You look mighty well pleased, all of you."

"Well, that peasant has a whistle, and the moment he begins to play on it, the inside of his hayrick changes into a sumptuous castle."

"And then?"

"And then out comes a young girl, more lovely than sunlight; and he plays "Ti-tiriti-ti" and makes her dance to his playing. After that he says to her:

"Fair daughter, if the king would win your hand,
Seven years in sun and rain then must he stand.
If seven years in sun and rain he will not bide,
Then, daughter, you can never be his bride!"

"And then?"

"And then he began playing again, and in a twinkling the splendid palace once more became a hayrick."

"I'll give it to him with his sun and rain! But let us first see this miracle of beauty!"

And the next night he went, accompanied by his ministers. And behold! the peasant pulled out his whistle from his pocket; and "Ti-tiriti-ti" in a trice the haystack was changed into a royal dwelling; and, "Titiriti-ti" the lovely maiden appeared and began to dance. At that sight the king went clean out of his wits. "Oh, what a beauty she is! She shall be mine! She shall be mine!" And without losing any time he began knocking at the entrance.

The peasant stopped playing; and all at once the royal palace became a hayrick again; but there was no sign of its opening; and the king, though burning with impatience, was forced to go home as he had come. Before dawn, however, he sent a messenger in great haste. The king wanted to see the peasant immediately.

The peasant came and presented himself. What did the king command of him?

"My will is that you give me your daughter for my bride. She shall be made queen, and you prime minister."

"Please, but there is a condition to fulfil:

"Whoever would win my daughter's hand
Seven years in sun and rain must stand.
If seven years he stand not in sun and in rain
Whoever he be, he shall woo her in vain."

The king would have rarely liked to give him such sun and rain as he would not forget in a hurry. But then there was the maiden at stake, and for love of her he would do anything.

So he shrugged his shoulders, and replied: "Then I shall wait seven years in sun and rain." He placed the government of his kingdom in the hands of the ministers for all the time he would be absent, and went to live with the old peasant, exposed all day to the scorching sun, or the pouring rain, even when it came down in bucketfuls.

Poor king! After a short time no one would have been able to recognise him; his skin was burnt to such a degree that he seemed made of terracotta. But he had one compensation, however. Every now and again, when it was night, the peasant would pull out his whistle, and before beginning his tune would say to him, "You must remember well that

"Who touches rends,
Who speaks offends!"

And then "Ti-tiriti-ti," in less time than I tell you the hayrick became a sumptuous palace, and "Ti-tiriti-ti" the maiden appeared, more beautiful than the sun, moon and stars!

All the time she danced the king simply devoured her with his eyes. He had to make a great effort not to rush up to her, fold her in his arms, and say, "You shall be my queen!" His great love for her, and the fear of losing her, alone kept him back.

Six years, six months, and six days had already flown. The king rubbed his hands for joy. Soon, very soon, that maiden, more beautiful than the sun, moon and stars, would become his bride, and he would return to his castle, a king as before, only much, much happier than he had ever been!

But bad luck would have it that one night the peasant took out his whistle as usual and began playing without reminding him,

"Who touches rends,
Who speaks offends!"

When he saw her the king could no longer restrain himself, and running up to the fair maiden, embraced her, crying, "You shall be my queen! You shall be my queen!"

Like a flash of lightning the maiden was turned into a knotty trunk of a tree!

"Yet I had warned you!" said the peasant,

"Who touches rends,
Who speaks offends!""

The king seemed turned to stone with grief and amazement. Must he begin all over again? Yes, he must begin all over again. Well, over again he began. He roasted himself in the sun.

"Sun, fair sun above,
I suffer here for love!"

He let himself be drenched by the rain.

"Rain, good, gentle rain,
For the maid I suffer pain."

And when the peasant would pull his whistle out of his pocket, and, "Ti-tiriti-ti," the maiden appeared and began to dance, he devoured her with his eyes from a corner, but as quiet and still as oil, for he did not feel inclined to begin all over again another time. And again six years six months, and six days had passed away, and the king began to rub his hands for joy.

But misfortune would have it that one night, when the maiden was dancing to the sound of the peasant's whistle as she had never danced before, with such grace! such elegance! the king could stand it no longer, and rushing up to her, embraced her, crying, "Ah, my queen! my queen!"

And what should he find in his arms again but the knotty trunk of a tree!

"Ah, king, king," said the old peasant, "I told you,

"Who touches rends,
Who speaks offends!""

The wretched King stood stock-still in dismay and disappointment. " Must I begin all over again?"

"Yes, you must begin all over again!" And he began again

"Sun, fair sun above,
I suffer here for love!"

He let himself be drenched by the rain.

"Rain, good, gentle rain,
For the maid I suffer pain."

This time, however, he was more on his guard, and when at last the seven years appointed had passed, he won the maiden more beautiful than sunlight. He could hardly believe it was true.

But what had happened in the meanwhile? Well, his ministers and subjects, thinking he had gone mad, had forgotten all about him, and had conferred the crown, some years before, on one of his relations. So when the king presented himself at his castle with his fair bride leaning on his arm, the soldiers who stood at the gate as sentinels, said, "You cannot pass here, sir! You cannot pass here!"

"I am the king! call down my ministers!" But the old ones he had known were all dead, and those of the new king let him talk till he was tired. He then turned to his people. "How is this? Do you not recognise your king?" The people very civilly laughed in his face, but otherwise paid him not the slightest attention. Quite in despair he went back to the peasant's little field, where the hayrick once stood; but to his surprise he saw a splendid building worthy of being a king's castle. He went upstairs, but instead of the peasant there came forward to meet him a handsome old man with a flowing white beard. It was no other than the great wizard Druscell!

"Don't lose heart!" he said, and taking the king by the hand he led him into a splendid hall where stood a large basin full of clear water. The wizard, seizing the basin, poured its contents on his head, and the king, from being a rather elderly-looking man, once more became a blooming youth, as when he was but twenty years of age.

Then the wizard said to him: "Look out of the window and play on this whistle, and you shall see!"

And so the king did, playing "Ti-tiriti-ti" and behold a large army of magnificent men clad in full armour came streaming over the hills and down into the valley.

War was declared, and while the soldiers fought, he stood on the top of a rising ground and played away "Ti-tiriti-ti", never stopping till the battle was won.

Then he returned to his own castle, conquering and triumphant. To celebrate his wedding with the fair maid he loved so well, gave his people a whole month of feasting and merry- making.

And soon was given to him a son and heir,
And they all lived happily without a care.