Chapter 3

For some time they had fair wind and fine weather, but after that they lay wind-bound under a rocky island. So the sailors went ashore and strolled about to spend the time, and there they found a huge egg, almost as big as a little house. So they began to knock it about with large stones, but, after all, they couldn't crack the shell. Then the lad came up with his sword to see what all the noise was about, and when he saw the egg, he thought it a trifle to crack it; so he gave it one blow and the egg split, and out came a chicken as big as an elephant.

"Now we have done wrong," said the lad; "this can cost us all our lives;" and then he asked his sailors if they were men enough to sail to Arabia in four-and-twenty hours if they got a fine breeze. Yes! they were good to do that, they said, so they set sail with a fine breeze, and got to Arabia in three-and-twenty hours. As soon as they landed, the lad ordered all the sailors to go and bury themselves up to the eyes in a sandhill, so that they could barely see the ships. The lad and the captains climbed a high crag and sate down under a fir.

In a little while came a great bird flying with an island in its claws, and let it fall down on the fleet, and sunk every ship. After it had done that, it flew up to the sandhill and flapped its wings, so that the wind nearly took off the heads of the sailors, and it flew past the fir with such force that it turned the lad right about, but he was ready with his sword, and gave the bird one blow and brought it down dead.

After that he went to the town, where every one was glad because the _King_ had got his daughter back; but now the _King_ had hidden her away somewhere himself, and promised her hand as a reward to any one who could find her, and this though she was betrothed before. Now as the lad went along he met a man who had white bear-skins for sale, so he bought one of the hides and put it on; and one of the captains was to take an iron chain and lead him about, and so he went into the town and began to play pranks. At last the news came to the _King's_ ears, that there never had been such fun in the town before, for here was a white bear that danced and cut capers just as it was bid. So a messenger came to say the bear must come to the castle at once, for the _King_ wanted to see its tricks. So when it got to the castle every one was afraid, for such a beast they had never seen before; but the captain said there was no danger unless they laughed at it. They mustn't do that, else it would tear them to pieces. When the _King_ heard that, he warned all the court not to laugh. But while the fun was going on, in came one of the _King's_ maids, and began to laugh and make game of the bear, and the bear flew at her and tore her, so that there was scarce a rag of her left. Then all the court began to bewail, and the captain most of all.

"Stuff and nonsense," said the _King_; "she's only a maid, besides it's more my affair than yours."

When the show was over, it was late at night. "It's no good your going away, when it's so late," said the _King_. "The bear had best sleep here."

"Perhaps it might sleep in the ingle by the kitchen fire," said the captain.

"Nay," said the _King_, "it shall sleep up here, and it shall have pillows and cushions to sleep on." So a whole heap of pillows and cushions was brought, and the captain had a bed in a side room.

But at midnight the _King_ came with a lamp in his hand and a big bunch of keys, and carried off the white bear. He passed along gallery after gallery through doors and rooms, up-stairs and down-stairs, till at last he came to a pier which ran out into the sea. Then the _King_ began to pull and haul at posts and pins, this one up and that one down, till at last a little house floated up to the water's edge. There he kept his daughter, for she was so dear to him that he had hid her, so that no one could find her out. He left the white bear outside while he went in and told her how it had danced and played its pranks. She said she was afraid, and dared not look at it; but he talked her over, saying there was no danger if she only wouldn't laugh. So they brought the bear in, and locked the door, and it danced and played its tricks; but just when the fun was at its height, the _Princess's_ maid began to laugh. Then the lad flew at her and tore her to bits, and the _Princess_ began to cry and sob.

"Stuff and nonsense," cried the _King_; "all this fuss about a maid! I'll get you just as good a one again. But now I think the bear had best stay here till morning, for I don't care to have to go and lead it along all those galleries and stairs at this time of night."

"Well!" said the _Princess_, "if it sleeps here, I'm sure I won't."

But just then the bear curled himself up and lay down by the stove; and it was settled at last that the _Princess_ should sleep there too, with a light burning. But as soon as the _King_ had well gone, the white bear came and begged her to undo his collar. The _Princess_ was so scared she almost swooned away; but she felt about till she found the collar, and she had scarce undone it before the bear pulled his head off. Then she knew him again, and was so glad there was no end to her joy, and she wanted to tell her father at once that her deliverer was come. But the lad would not hear of it; he would earn her once more, he said. So in the morning when they heard the _King_ rattling at the posts outside, the lad drew on the hide and lay down by the stove.

"Well, has it lain still?" the king asked.

"I should think so," said the _Princess_; "it hasn't so much as turned or stretched itself once."

When they got up to the castle again, the captain took the bear and led it away, and then the lad threw off the hide, and went to a tailor and ordered clothes fit for a prince; and when they were fitted on he went to the _King_, and said he wanted to find the _Princess_.

"You're not the first who has wished the same thing," said the _King_, "but they have all lost their lives; for if any one who tries can't find her in four-and-twenty hours his life is forfeited."

Yes; the lad knew all that. Still he wished to try, and if he couldn't find her, 'twas his look-out. Now in the castle there was a band that played sweet tunes, and there were fair maids to dance with, and so the lad danced away.

When twelve hours were gone, the _King_ said:

"I pity you with all my heart. You're so poor a hand at seeking; you will surely lose your life."

"Stuff!" said the lad; "while there's life there's hope! So long as there's breath in the body there's no fear; we have lots of time!" and so he went on dancing till there was only one hour left.

Then he said he would begin to search.

"It's no use now," said the _King_; "time's up."

"Light your lamp; out with your big bunch of keys," said the lad, "and follow me whither I wish to go. There is still a whole hour left."

So the lad went the same way which the _King_ had led him the night before, and he bade the _King_ unlock door after door till they came down to the pier which ran out into the sea.

"It's all no use, I tell you," said the _King_; "time's up, and this will only lead you right out into the sea."

"Still five minutes more," said the lad, as he pulled and pushed at the posts and pins, and the house floated up.

"Now the time is up," bawled the _King_; "come hither, headsman, and take off his head."

"Nay, nay!" said the lad; "stop a bit, there are still three minutes! Out with the key, and let me get into this house."

But there stood the _King_ and fumbled with his keys, to draw out the time. At last he said he hadn't any key.

"Well, if you haven't, I _have_," said the lad, as he gave the door such a kick that it flew to splinters inwards on the floor.

At the door the _Princess_ met him, and told her father this was her deliverer, on whom her heart was set. So she had him; and this was how the beggar boy came to marry the daughter of the King of Arabia.

PRINCE LINDWORM

Once upon a time, there was a fine young _King_ who was married to the loveliest of Queens. They were exceedingly happy, all but for one thing--they had no children. And this often made them both sad, because the _Queen_ wanted a dear little child to play with, and the _King_ wanted an heir to the kingdom.

One day the _Queen_ went out for a walk by herself, and she met an ugly old woman. The old woman was just like a witch: but she was a nice kind of witch, not the cantankerous sort. She said, "Why do you look so doleful, pretty lady?" "It's no use my telling you," answered the _Queen_, "nobody in the world can help me." "Oh, you never know," said the old woman. "Just you let me hear what your trouble is, and maybe I can put things right."

"My dear woman, how can you?" said the _Queen_: and she told her, "The _King_ and I have no children: that's why I am so distressed." "Well, you needn't be," said the old witch. "I can set that right in a twinkling, if only you will do exactly as I tell you. Listen. To-night, at sunset, take a little drinking-cup with two ears" (that is, handles), "and put it bottom upwards on the ground in the north-west corner of your garden. Then go and lift it up to-morrow morning at sunrise, and you will find two roses underneath it, one red and one white. If you eat the red rose, a little boy will be born to you: if you eat the white rose, a little girl will be sent. But, whatever you do, you mustn't eat _both_ the roses, or you'll be sorry,--that I warn you! Only one: remember that!" "Thank you a thousand times," said the _Queen_, "this is good news indeed!" And she wanted to give the old woman her gold ring; but the old woman wouldn't take it.

So the _Queen_ went home and did as she had been told: and next morning at sunrise she stole out into the garden and lifted up the little drinking-cup. She _was_ surprised, for indeed she had hardly expected to see anything. But there were the two roses underneath it, one red and one white. And now she was dreadfully puzzled, for she did not know which to choose. "If I choose the red one," she thought, "and I have a little boy, he may grow up and go to the wars and get killed. But if I choose the white one, and have a little girl, she will stay at home awhile with us, but later on she will get married and go away and leave us. So, whichever it is, we may be left with no child after all."

However, at last she decided on the white rose, and she ate it. And it tasted so sweet, that she took and ate the red one too: without ever remembering the old woman's solemn warning.

Some time after this, the _King_ went away to the wars: and while he was still away, the _Queen_ became the mother of twins. One was a lovely baby-boy, and the other was a _Lindworm_, or Serpent. She was terribly frightened when she saw the _Lindworm_, but he wriggled away out of the room, and nobody seemed to have seen him but herself: so that she thought it must have been a dream. The baby _Prince_ was so beautiful and so healthy, the _Queen_ was full of joy: and likewise, as you may suppose, was the _King_ when he came home and found his son and heir. Not a word was said by anyone about the _Lindworm_: only the _Queen_ thought about it now and then.

Many days and years passed by, and the baby grew up into a handsome young _Prince_, and it was time that he got married. The _King_ sent him off to visit foreign kingdoms, in the Royal coach, with six white horses, to look for a Princess grand enough to be his wife. But at the very first cross-roads, the way was stopped by an enormous _Lindworm_, enough to frighten the bravest. He lay in the middle of the road with a great wide open mouth, and cried, "A bride for me before a bride for you!" Then the _Prince_ made the coach turn round and try another road: but it was all no use. For, at the first cross-ways, there lay the _Lindworm_ again, crying out, "A bride for me before a bride for you!" So the _Prince_ had to turn back home again to the Castle, and give up his visits to the foreign kingdoms. And his mother, the _Queen_, had to confess that what the _Lindworm_ said was true. For he was really the eldest of her twins: and so he ought to have a wedding first.

There seemed nothing for it but to find a bride for the _Lindworm_, if his younger brother, the _Prince_, were to be married at all. So the _King_ wrote to a distant country, and asked for a Princess to marry his son (but, of course, he didn't say which son), and presently a Princess arrived. But she wasn't allowed to see her bridegroom until he stood by her side in the great hall and was married to her, and then, of course, it was too late for her to say she wouldn't have him. But next morning the Princess had disappeared. The _Lindworm_ lay sleeping all alone: and it was quite plain that he had eaten her.

A little while after, the Prince decided that he might now go journeying again in search of a _Princess_. And off he drove in the Royal chariot with the six white horses. But at the first cross-ways, there lay the _Lindworm_, crying with his great wide open mouth, "A bride for me before a bride for you!" So the carriage tried another road, and the same thing happened, and they had to turn back again this time, just as formerly. And the King wrote to several foreign countries, to know if anyone would marry his son. At last another _Princess_ arrived, this time from a very far distant land. And, of course, she was not allowed to see her future husband before the wedding took place,--and then, lo and behold! it was the _Lindworm_ who stood at her side. And next morning the Princess had disappeared: and the _Lindworm_ lay sleeping all alone; and it was quite clear that he had eaten her.

By and by the _Prince_ started on his quest for the third time: and at the first cross-roads there lay the _Lindworm_ with his great wide open mouth, demanding a bride as before. And the _Prince_ went straight back to the castle, and told the _King_: "You must find another bride for my elder brother."

"I don't know where I am to find her," said the _King_, "I have already made enemies of two great Kings who sent their daughters here as brides: and I have no notion how I can obtain a third lady. People are beginning to say strange things, and I am sure no _Princess_ will dare to come."

Now, down in a little cottage near a wood, there lived the _King's_ shepherd, an old man with his only daughter. And the _King_ came one day and said to him, "Will you give me your daughter to marry my son the _Lindworm_? And I will make you rich for the rest of your life."--"No, sire," said the shepherd, "that I cannot do. She is my only child, and I want her to take care of me when I am old. Besides, if the _Lindworm_ would not spare two beautiful Princesses, he won't spare her either. He will just gobble her up: and she is much too good for such a fate."

But the _King_ wouldn't take "No" for an answer: and at last the old man had to give in.

Well, when the old shepherd told his daughter that she was to be _Prince Lindworm's_ bride, she was utterly in despair. She went out into the woods, crying and wringing her hands and bewailing her hard fate. And while she wandered to and fro, an old witch-woman suddenly appeared out of a big hollow oak-tree, and asked her, "Why do you look so doleful, pretty lass?" The shepherd-girl said, "It's no use my telling you, for nobody in the world can help me."--"Oh, you never know," said the old woman. "Just you let me hear what your trouble is, and maybe I can put things right."--"Ah, how can you?" said the girl, "For I am to be married to the _King's_ eldest son, who is a _Lindworm_. He has already married two beautiful Princesses, and devoured them: and he will eat me too! No wonder I am distressed."

"Well, you needn't be," said the witch-woman. "All that can be set right in a twinkling: if only you will do exactly as I tell you." So the girl said she would.

"Listen, then," said the old woman. "After the marriage ceremony is over, and when it is time for you to retire to rest, you must ask to be dressed in ten snow-white shifts. And you must then ask for a tub full of lye," (that is, washing water prepared with wood-ashes) "and a tub full of fresh milk, and as many whips as a boy can carry in his arms,--and have all these brought into your bed-chamber. Then, when the _Lindworm_ tells you to shed a shift, do you bid him slough a skin. And when all his skins are off, you must dip the whips in the lye and whip him; next, you must wash him in the fresh milk; and, lastly, you must take him and hold him in your arms, if it's only for one moment."

"The last is the worst notion--ugh!" said the shepherd's daughter, and she shuddered at the thought of holding the cold, slimy, scaly _Lindworm_.

"Do just as I have said, and all will go well," said the old woman. Then she disappeared again in the oak-tree.

When the wedding-day arrived, the girl was fetched in the Royal chariot with the six white horses, and taken to the castle to be decked as a bride. And she asked for ten snow-white shifts to be brought her, and the tub of lye, and the tub of milk, and as many whips as a boy could carry in his arms. The ladies and courtiers in the castle thought, of course, that this was some bit of peasant superstition, all rubbish and nonsense. But the _King_ said, "Let her have whatever she asks for." She was then arrayed in the most wonderful robes, and looked the loveliest of brides. She was led to the hall where the wedding ceremony was to take place, and she saw the _Lindworm_ for the first time as he came in and stood by her side. So they were married, and a great wedding-feast was held, a banquet fit for the son of a king.

When the feast was over, the bridegroom and bride were conducted to their apartment, with music, and torches, and a great procession. As soon as the door was shut, the _Lindworm_ turned to her and said, "Fair maiden, shed a shift!" The shepherd's daughter answered him, "_Prince Lindworm_, slough a skin!"--"No one has ever dared tell me to do that before!" said he.--"But I command you to do it now!" said she. Then he began to moan and wriggle: and in a few minutes a long snake-skin lay upon the floor beside him. The girl drew off her first shift, and spread it on top of the skin.

The _Lindworm_ said again to her, "Fair maiden, shed a shift."

The shepherd's daughter answered him, "_Prince Lindworm_, slough a skin."

"No one has ever dared tell me to do that before," said he.--"But I command you to do it now," said she. Then with groans and moans he cast off the second skin: and she covered it with her second shift. The _Lindworm_ said for the third time, "Fair maiden, shed a shift." The shepherd's daughter answered him again, "_Prince Lindworm_, slough a skin."--"No one has ever dared tell me to do that before," said he, and his little eyes rolled furiously. But the girl was not afraid, and once more she commanded him to do as she bade.

And so this went on until nine _Lindworm_ skins were lying on the floor, each of them covered with a snow-white shift. And there was nothing left of the _Lindworm_ but a huge thick mass, most horrible to see. Then the girl seized the whips, dipped them in the lye, and whipped him as hard as ever she could. Next, she bathed him all over in the fresh milk. Lastly, she dragged him on to the bed and put her arms round him. And she fell fast asleep that very moment.

Next morning very early, the _King_ and the courtiers came and peeped in through the keyhole. They wanted to know what had become of the girl, but none of them dared enter the room. However, in the end, growing bolder, they opened the door a tiny bit. And there they saw the girl, all fresh and rosy, and beside her lay--no _Lindworm_, but the handsomest prince that any one could wish to see.

The _King_ ran out and fetched the _Queen_: and after that, there were such rejoicings in the castle as never were known before or since. The wedding took place all over again, much finer than the first, with festivals and banquets and merrymakings for days and weeks. No bride was ever so beloved by a King and Queen as this peasant maid from the shepherd's cottage. There was no end to their love and their kindness towards her: because, by her sense and her calmness and her courage, she had saved their son, _Prince Lindworm_.

THE LASSIE AND HER GODMOTHER

Once on a time a poor couple lived far, far away in a great wood. The wife was brought to bed, and had a pretty girl, but they were so poor they did not know how to get the babe christened, for they had no money to pay the parson's fees. So one day the father went out to see if he could find any one who was willing to stand for the child and pay the fees; but though he walked about the whole day from one house to another, and though all said they were willing enough to stand, no one thought himself bound to pay the fees. Now, when he was going home again, a lovely lady met him, dressed so fine, and she looked so thoroughly good and kind; she offered to get the babe christened, but after that, she said, she must keep it for her own. The husband answered, he must first ask his wife what she wished to do; but when he got home and told his story, the wife said, right out, "No!"

Next day the man went out again, but no one would stand if they had to pay the fees; and though he begged and prayed, he could get no help. And again as he went home, towards evening the same lovely lady met him, who looked so sweet and good, and she made him the same offer. So he told his wife again how he had fared, and this time she said, if he couldn't get any one to stand for his babe next day, they must just let the lady have her way, since she seemed so kind and good.

The third day, the man went about, but he couldn't get any one to stand; and so when, towards evening, he met the kind lady again, he gave his word she should have the babe if she would only get it christened at the font. So next morning she came to the place where the man lived, followed by two men to stand godfathers, took the babe and carried it to church, and there it was christened. After that she took it to her own house, and there the little girl lived with her several years, and her _Foster-mother_ was always kind and friendly to her.

Now, when the _Lassie_ had grown to be big enough to know right and wrong, her _Foster-mother_ got ready to go on a journey.

"You have my leave," she said, "to go all over the house, except those rooms which I shew you;" and when she had said that, away she went.

But the _Lassie_ could not forbear just to open one of the doors a little bit, when--POP! out flew a Star.

When her _Foster-mother_ came back, she was very vexed to find that the star had flown out, and she got very angry with her _Foster-daughter_, and threatened to send her away; but the child cried and begged so hard that she got leave to stay.

Now, after a while, the _Foster-mother_ had to go on another journey; and, before she went, she forbade the _Lassie_ to go into those two rooms into which she had never been. She promised to beware; but when she was left alone, she began to think and to wonder what there could be in the second room, and at last she could not help setting the door a little ajar, just to peep in, when--POP! out flew the Moon.

When her _Foster-mother_ came home and found the moon let out, she was very downcast, and said to the _Lassie_ she must go away, she could not stay with her any longer. But the _Lassie_ wept so bitterly, and prayed so heartily for forgiveness, that this time, too, she got leave to stay.