Part 6

"As you know, this shoemaker was skilled at making shoes, and especially skilled in stealing leather, my King. He believed that the ease with which a king treads upon his handiwork will blot out the theft in procuring the leather. The story runs that this morning he went to the soup-house to get his usual bowl of soup. A stranger waited upon him. As he put the bowl to his lips the soup turned clear as water, and in it appeared two pictures. The first was the likeness of the stranger before him, and on his breast was the name, 'King Savoda.' The second represented himself standing before a great white throne. His soul was uncovered, and over it were written the names of the ones from whom he had stolen leather. His soul was the shape of a boot; and there he stood trying to make a shoe to cover it from the sight of Him who sat upon the throne as the Great Judge. The longer he looked the more fearful became the second. In a fit of despair he gulped down the soup so fast that it strangled him, and he fell dead at the counter. So, my King, is he not shoeing his soul? My King, the people say that Savoda, who was a stranger to the shoemaker, knew not what he saw in the bowl. He simply thought he was weak from overwork and, in keeping with his good nature, he straightway gave him a decent burial."

"Ha, ha! The dreams of a porter frighten not his king. If there be no real workman about, find me a cobbler."

"A cobbler there is at the turn of the square, but, O my King, his failure at making you shoes will be equaled only by your success in cutting off his head."

"Porter, you are wide-awake when you speak of cutting off heads. Take this leather and my measure to the cobbler. Remind him that to-morrow is the coronation, and that no shoes for the King means no head for the cobbler."

The porter departed, and the cobbler soon received the leather and the measure and the message and, despite the gloom of the latter, he worked bravely on until he had completed his task. Being very tired, he fell asleep. When he awoke he found that the cat had turned the candle over on one of the shoes, and, as a result, the upper was burned completely out. He had received just leather enough to make the shoes, and there was no more of that kind to be had. The hour of the coronation was near at hand. What was he to do? Just then the porter came in. Without saying a word he put the shoes under his arm and carried them to the king. As soon as the king saw them he ordered the cobbler's head to be taken off.

The cobbler had hardly finished kissing his wife and children when the king's soldiers seized him and began dragging him through the streets toward the block. A terrible voice then sounded forth. It was more like thunder than that of a human being's. The soldiers knew it was the voice of the great giant Lubercal; so they left the cobbler and hastened to save themselves. After giving the cobbler something to refresh him, the giant put him in one of his coat pockets and carried him off to his mountain home. The cobbler soon found there were two others in the pocket with him.

"Ah," said they, "we are glad you are in here."

"Ah," said the cobbler, "you are no gladder than I. They were about to cut my head off out there. How relieved I feel!"

"On the life of us," said they, "we don't see where the relief comes in. As we see it, you have simply exchanged a beheading for an eating. So certain were we to be eaten by the giant and his wife for supper that we had already said our prayers. As you are so big and tender, it may be the giant will feast upon you to-night and leave us for breakfast, giving us a chance to escape in the darkness. We are told that he always refreshes the one he is going to eat first. So, you see we are glad you are in here."

By this time the giant had reached his home. He took all three out, and said to his wife: "Here they all are. Prepare the cobbler first. The other two will keep."

We must now leave the cobbler and his friends to their fate with the giant and his wife, and return to the coronation at the palace. The palace is thronged with noblemen, and Savo is pacing up and down barefooted and bareheaded. We know why he is barefooted; but why is he bareheaded? He had the crown placed upon the throne instead of on his head. He did this he said in order to start a new custom; but it was simply to hide, if possible, the mishap with the shoe.

The king and his noblemen soon sat down to supper. The order was, eat a while and boast a while. To make the events of the supper clear we must know something that took place at the gate just before the coronation.

The porter had served under the old King Mesina, and had kept fairly straight. Being a wise man, he saw that Savo was weak and his kingdom would soon fall, so he set about making himself whole. As soon as Savo cast aside the shoes because of the burnt one, he saw the possibilities of a fortune in the good one. His business that night was to sit at the palace gate and admit the guests. To every simple looking nobleman that passed he would hold up the good shoe and say: "How much am I offered for a shoe that is so fine the king will not wear it?"

At last there came a nobleman whose bluntness equaled the porter's wit. He took the shoe, and left the porter a bag of gold.

As has been said, the order at the supper was eat a while and boast a while.

Nobleman after nobleman told of some precious keepsake he had, and its history. At last they called on the nobleman with the shoe. He was so slow to respond that he was roundly hissed by the guests, as having nothing worthy the attention of a king. This was too much for nobility at a feast. He first told a strange story of how he came into possession of the shoe. Then he snatched it from his pocket so quickly that it dropped from his hand and fell plump into the king's dish of soup.

"Soldiers of the king," said Savo, "cast the intruder into prison, and see that his head comes off bright and early to-morrow morning."

Thus ended the coronation. The guests departed, and Savo retired for the night. Just after the nobleman was placed in prison the giant Lubercal passed the palace gate and saw the porter asleep beside his bag of gold. Knowing what had happened, he took the porter and the bag of gold around to the prison. There was a huge chimney leading down into the cell where the nobleman was. The giant reached down and brought out the nobleman and put the porter in his place. The nobleman and his bag of gold were carried by the giant to his mountain home.

In the meantime what had become of the cobbler and his two friends?

They were still at the home of the giant, safe and sound, with no fear of being eaten. What had the giant meant by telling his wife to prepare the cobbler first? Simply that he had heard the conversation that passed among the three men in his pockets as he went home, and as he was of a rather grim but jovial nature he made pretence of devouring his captives. Of these three we know of the cobbler, but who were the two friends? One was the captain that Savo had put in prison for bringing the dwarf. The other was Savoda.

The giant Lubercal thought that Savo might make away with them during the coronation, so he protected them in this way.

Early the next morning Savo sent word to the jailer to dispatch the man in the cell and bring the head to him. It was done; but, when the head was brought, Savo almost fell from his throne.

"My porter! my porter!" said Savo, "you have been dealt with foully. How dare you, Jailer, to turn the nobleman out and put my porter in his place? Soldiers of the king, seize the deceiver, and off with his head."

Before the soldiers could carry out the order the giant Lubercal appeared before the palace and sent his voice through the halls.

"Come, Savo," said he, "it is time to reckon."

The giant first took from his pocket the cobbler, who was red-eyed and sneezing, and bidding him no longer to fear King Savo, gave him his liberty. When the cobbler was set free he secured the burnt shoe, that it might remind him never again to fall asleep over his work, and hastened to his family.

Lubercal then followed this by freeing the nobleman, with a similar injunction. When the nobleman was given his liberty, he distributed the bag of gold among the poor, and, after awaiting Savoda's coronation, departed to his own estates.

Then the giant Lubercal now, in keeping with King Mesina's will, put Savoda upon the throne, and made Savo gate-keeper.

A good giant was Lubercal? Well, he was not so good, after all, as one other act will show. Even giants must live by some law.

The law by which Lubercal was controlled allowed him to be king if he could steal the whole nation at once. To do this all the people must be gathered into one house. Lubercal's aim was to deceive the people into building a house large enough to hold them all, and then proclaim himself king.

He suggested to Savoda that he force his people to erect such a house, so that the whole nation might come together and celebrate his (Savoda's) accession to the throne. Savoda did so. After much time and labor, the house was ready. The morning of the fatal day arrived--the day on which Lubercal intended to put into execution his plan of stealing the throne and Savoda's people. Lubercal stood upon the mountain and sent his voice ringing over the country. Savoda and the people thought this a good omen, and expected the giant to come down and rejoice with them. While King Savoda was arranging his crown, in walked the dwarf.

"Good morning, my King," said he. "I have come to rescue you and your people this day from the hands of the designing Lubercal." Noting Savoda's look of suspicion and incredulity the dwarf continued: "I see, my King, that you have little faith in my remark. Go you now to the temple, and ere the day is done you shall see your own salvation."

King Savoda and his people, after further insistence, though still not convinced, went to the temple, while the dwarf hastened to encounter the giant.

Again we must go back, in order to make clear events soon to be narrated.

Savo had been too silly to remain king, yet he was wise enough to see the force that removed him. He therefore set about finding the source of Lubercal's strength. While Lubercal was away he went up into the mountain and hid himself where he could see, but could not be seen. Lubercal soon came, and straightway tried to pull up a large tree by the roots. At first he failed to move it. He then went to a large cask containing fluid of some kind, and smelled it. At the next trial he pulled the tree halfway up. He went back to the cask and smelled again. Then he walked to the tree and with a slight effort snatched it from the ground and tossed it down the mountain.

"Ah," said Savo, "I have the secret of your strength. It is in that fluid."

Then Lubercal sat down, and began to talk to himself of how his strength lay in smelling the fluid in the cask, and how his length of days depended upon the running of the old-fashioned clock that hung beside a tree.

That night, as the giant slept, Savo slipped to the cask and examined it. He found it had two chambers, and that the fluid was in the lower one. He climbed into the upper chamber, thinking he might find some way of letting the fluid out. He found none, and to his surprise smelling the fluid made him weak instead of strong. He soon became so weak he could not get out; so there he stayed until morning. At daybreak he first heard the giant's voice ringing over the country. He next heard the shouts of King Savoda and his people as they were hurrying to the great temple, and lastly, the small clear voice of the dwarf piping out a challenge to Lubercal.

"Giant Lubercal, I have come to thwart your designs upon King Savoda and his people. Strength, I suppose will be your weapon; but wit shall be mine. The war is on. Here's at you."

"A flea in a kettle of hot water, my little man, is not more at a disadvantage than you are with me," said Lubercal; "but if you want a quick, easy death, come on."

At this the dwarf scratched the giant's great toe, but did not even make it bleed.

"For that, sir," said the giant, "you shall serve to whet my appetite for breakfast."

Now, according to an ancient custom, the giant could not eat a human being without first closing his eyes and saying a long blessing. While he was thus engaged, the dwarf turned himself into a fierce bird and circled above the giant's head. Every now and then he would strike the giant a stinging blow. After a hard struggle the giant succeeded in catching him. He held him tightly in his great hand; but in a flash the dwarf turned to a flea. The giant was not well proportioned. His body was large, with a deep crease between the shoulders, and his arms were so short they could not reach it.

The dwarf found the crease and began to bite. The giant soon became frantic. He ran to the tree; and, in trying to kill the dwarf, he broke the old-fashioned clock upon the running of which depended the length of his days.

He lay upon his back and rolled and tumbled, and then with marvelous force he drew up his limbs and straightened them out. One of his feet struck the cask, and fluid and Savo were dashed down the steep mountain-side. The once mighty Lubercal soon became so weak that the dwarf assumed his original form, tied a rope around his neck, and led him into the temple where King Savoda and his people were celebrating. At the dwarfs command Lubercal told the assembled multitude of his designs against them, and begged that he be allowed to return to his mountain home and breathe out his last as his forefathers had done. He returned, and soon a terrible wail told the people he was no more.

"Honor to whom honor is due," said King Savoda. "Let us honor the dwarf who has saved our whole nation. Truly, the power of his wit shall be felt in the affairs of this people."

"My great and good King," said the dwarf, "I am honored in being in your midst, and happy in seeing you happy. My life work is ended and I am ready to go."

As the autumn leaf falls withered to the ground, so the dwarf fell dead at the king's feet.

"My people," said King Savoda, "let us spend the rest of the day mourning for the dwarf and honoring his memory. How shall we best do this?"

"My King," said an aged man, "I have a suggestion."

"What have you done that you should be allowed to even make a suggestion concerning so great a person as the dwarf," said the King.

"My good and wise King, look closely and you will see that I am the captain who was imprisoned for bringing the dwarf into this kingdom."

The King looked, and seeing the man had spoken truthfully, told him to draw near.

"You shall no longer be the captain of a ship, but the first of my wise men. We will follow your suggestion. Let us have it."

"My King," said the captain, "yonder mountain-top upon which the giant Lubercal now lies dead is a solid rock. I suggest that you send your best workmen in stone up there. As they look upon the giant, let them shape out of the rock his exact image with the arms extended. Let them lay a marble slab across the arms, and upon this place the image of the dwarf."

The King was so impressed with the suggestion that he sent hundreds of his best workmen to carry it out. A signal told when they had finished the work. Then the King, followed by the people bearing the body of the dwarf, ascended the mountain. He was much pleased with the images, and ordered that the bodies of the giant and the dwarf be buried in the solid rock side by side.

As he started to leave he heard some one say:

"My brother, Savoda, I am nigh unto death. Hear me ere I depart."

The King turned and, seeing it was his brother Savo, clasped him in his arms, and placed a kiss upon his cheek. Savo in a few words begged his brother to forgive him for what he had done, told him of his adventure in the cask and how it ended. He then kissed his brother again and again, and expired. Savoda was so overcome that he had to be borne to his palace. Knowing their King's feelings in the matter, the workmen made an exact image of Savo, and placed it beside that of Lubercal, after which his body was buried close to the others. At the command of the king a huge stone was placed near the statues to remind the king and people of their duty.

Ever after that people would take their children to the mountain top and tell them the story of the king's shoes and the lessons to be learned from it.

King Savoda lived a long and useful life. His people loved him for his wisdom and goodness. He left twin sons to succeed him. They were so small that both sat in the same chair. They always agreed, and under them the kingdom flourished. They were so much like their father that the people called them the double king with one soul, borrowed from their father.

HOW MR. RABBIT SECURES A PRETTY WIFE AND RICH FATHER-IN-LAW

Mr. Rabbit was hard to please in love affairs. Those upon whom his eyes fell were either too ugly or too poor, and in some cases both. At last he concluded that the greatest failure in the world is courting that does not end in a wedding.

He arose early one morning and sat down by the roadside to think over the different flowers along the path of love that had proven thorns to his soul. As he sat there, taking them up and dismissing one by one, with a frown on his face and a bachelor-like sourness in his soul, he chanced to see a beautiful maiden tripping over the meadows. As soon as he saw that she was pretty, he believed he loved her, as soon as he learned that her father was rich, he knew it.

"O soul, my poor wounded soul! a smile from yon creature of grace and beauty would cure you. Let us haste and secure the remedy. I can well afford to exchange a task like this for the smiles of so pretty a wife and her father's pocket-book."

Mr. Rabbit knew his only stock in trade was wit, so he sharpened this and visited the girl's father. He walked up to the old gentleman and said:

"Good morning, sir. My name is Mr. Rabbit. I have come to be your son-in-law, and your daughter has my letter of introduction."

The old gentleman was so surprised at Mr. Rabbit's words he did not call his daughter to test their truthfulness. He admired his visitor's boldness and readiness of speech and, after talking awhile, invited him out to breakfast. Having learned the girl's name during the conversation, Rabbit spoke to her on coming out, and also took her by the hand. Now, he carried in his hand a stamp bearing the words "I propose."

After breakfast the old gentleman asked his daughter if she had Mr. Rabbit's letter of introduction, and she answered by holding up her hand. Then he asked her if she had ever met him before, and she said she had not. Without further ado he seized Rabbit by the throat and said:

"My dear child, this whole thing has been forced upon you. Now, how shall I punish the impudent young whelp?"

"Why, father," said she in her sweetest tones, "let both of us punish him by making him your son-in-law."

Seeing that he could not withstand the combined forces of Cupid, his only daughter, and a wily lover, the old gentleman said: "Well, Mr. Rabbit, you may have the girl on the condition that you go down to the great frog settlement and prove that you are master of all the frogs there. This must be done by to-morrow at twelve o'clock."

"It shall be done," said Mr. Rabbit.

He dressed himself as strangely as possible, and, taking a looking-glass in his hand, went down to the frog settlement. He stood by the branch and waved the glass until the frogs gathered around him.

"This is not the place," said he. "This is not the place."

"Yes, it is," said an old frog. "It is the very place that has been here all the time."

Mr. Rabbit looked again and said: "It is the place, sure enough."

"Didn't I tell you so?" said the old frog. "If this place had moved, we would have known it."

This served to open the conversation. While talking, Rabbit held the glass so the frogs could see themselves. He told them it was a soul-drawing machine, and that by looking into it the soul would come out of the body and go behind the glass.

"Do you know," said Rabbit, "why Mr. Snake swallows so many of you? It is simply to get your souls. As the soul is in the body, he must swallow the body, also. Let him see that the soul is out of the body, and he will no longer bother the body, but go after the soul. If the soul is behind the glass, he can't get it. So you see, gentlemen, every frog should have a glass. All he has to do is to carry the glass with him, and, when Mr. Snake comes, just hold it up so as to see himself. Mr. Snake, seeing the soul out of his reach, will scamper off."

All agreed with Rabbit, but wanted to know where glasses sufficient for all could be had.

"Ah," said Rabbit, "that is my business here. I have come to build a factory for making them. All you have to do is to turn the wheel I will make. This wheel will turn the mill and out will come the glasses. There will be no charges."

The frogs agreed to turn the wheel as long as needed. Then Rabbit built a watermill for grinding wheat and corn, and put the wheel above the water. The frogs knew no better.

"In order to turn the wheel," said Mr. Rabbit, "you frogs must be divided into as many bands as there are paddles to the wheel. The first band must jump upon a paddle and force it down, then jump into the water and swim to shore ready for the next turn. Each band must do so in turn, and the wheel will go round. There are several things you must do. You must not be seen until I give the signal. Then you must come, start the wheel, and keep it going until I tell you to stop. At the second signal you must bellow as loudly as you can, or your souls will be so long in getting behind the glass that Mr. Snake will catch them. On the third signal you must dance as you come around, or the glass will be easily broken."

All agreed, and said there should not be a single hitch in the programme.

Then Rabbit sent for his father-in-law to come, and bring his wheat with him. He did so; but laughed at Rabbit's mill-wheel.

"The wheat will be ground," said Rabbit, approaching the water and giving the signal agreed upon with the frogs.

At the first signal the frogs came by hundreds and sent the wheel over and over again in great haste. At the second signal they began to bellow; and, at the third, to dance. This procedure was continued, and in a short time the wheat was all ground.

"Now," said Mr. Rabbit, "I am not a member of the family as yet, but see what a means of income I am. How will it be further on? By the way, my father-in-law-to-be, how do you like the wedding-march my slaves are playing for me?"

"Very well, my son Rabbit, very well," said the old gentleman. "Come, let us have the ceremony." They then proceeded to the magistrate, when Mr. Rabbit and the young lady were duly wedded.

What became of the mill? Mr. Rabbit cared nothing for a cheap affair like that when he had succeeded in securing a pretty wife and rich father-in-law.

What about the frogs?

There is no telling how long they turned the wheel, bellowed, and danced; or how they got the glasses from between the millstones.

THE LITTLE BOY AND MISTER DARK

My name is Little Boy, an' I'se gwine ter tell you er story 'bout myself an' Mister Dark. Once 'twuz night, an' my Mammy an' my Daddy an' my dawg an' my cat an' myself wuz in de big cabin-room. My Daddy, he dun skinned de rabbit fer de breakfust time, an' my Mammy, she dun stirred up de hoecakes fer ter go 'long wid de rabbit, an' I dun make up my mind ter sleep till I gits er appertite fer bofe de cakes an' de rabbit. Meanwhile my cat, she says: "Meaw, meaw!" an' my dawg's tail says: "I whop, whop on de floor."