did. Then he made a house, but put no light into it, so God had to

make the windows. Then the devil made a fire, but did not know how to kindle it.

He was now working away at moulding the wolf from clay. He worked so hard that the perspiration ran down his face. Scratching his head, he pulled out three hairs, but would not throw anything away--they were much too precious--so he stuck them in the head of the wolf between the eyes.

When he thought he had finished, he turned to God and said, "See what I have done."

"Yes," replied God, "I see, but what is it?"

"Thou shalt know more about it soon," replied the devil; and, turning to the wolf, which lay there lifeless, he said, "Up, wolf, and go for him." But the wolf never stirred.

Then God turned to St. Peter and said, "Just wait and see how I will pay him out," and, waving his hand over the wolf, he said, "Up, wolf, and go for the devil."

The devil can run fast, but never ran faster than on that day when the wolf jumped up and ran after him. In running he jumped into the lake. He dipped under the waters and saved himself from the fangs of the wolf. And ever since that time, the wolf has power over the devil: when he catches him, he eats him up. All the year round the devils are hiding in pools and bogs, but, from the night of St. Basil (1st January) until the Feast of Epiphany, the waters are holy, being sanctified through the Baptism. The devil can no longer stay in the water, and he must get on to the land, where the wolf lies in wait for him, and woe unto the devils who get too near the wolf.

When God and St. Peter saw the flight of the devil, they laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. Then God turned to St. Peter and said to him, "I give these wolves now into thy care." Poor St. Peter trembled from head to foot when he heard the charge that was given to him, but God reassured him and said, "Never fear, Peter, they will not harm thee; on the contrary, they will follow thee and listen to thy command, as if they were friendly dogs." And so it has remained. Once every year, on the day of the Feast of St. Peter, in the winter-time, all the wolves come together to an appointed place to meet St. Peter. Thither he comes with a huge book in his hand, in which are written the names of all the persons who had given themselves over to the devil, and he tells the wolves whom they are to eat.

The three hairs which the devil had put on the wolf are of a green colour, and make the wolf look ferocious, for they are the devil's hairs, and it is from them that the devil's fire got into the wolves' eyes, which are lit up by it.

VIII.

WHY DO THE EYES OF THE WOLF GLOW AND HIS HAIR BRISTLE?

The Story of the Wolf, God and the Devil.

When God had finished the creation of the world, and had made all the good animals and beasts, the devil thought he would also make some creatures. He took some of the clay and made the wolf. When he had finished God came to see what he had done. When he saw the brute he asked the devil what it was.

"Ho, thou wilt soon see what it is. Up, wolf, and go for him." But the wolf did not stir. There he lay where the devil had fashioned him. When the devil saw that the wolf did not move, that there was no life in him, he turned to God and said:

"Just make him go."

And God said, "Very well."

But before he made him go, he chipped the wolf about, and moulded him and fashioned him a bit better than the devil had done. Out of these chippings came the snakes and the toads. When he had finished shaping him, God cried:

"Up, wolf, and go for him."

Up jumped the wolf and went for the devil, who got so frightened that he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him.

When the devil saw that the wolf was running him close he pulled out three hairs from his body and threw them behind him on to the wolf. The wolf, who up to that time was hairless and smooth, was suddenly covered with thick bristles, which, in one way or another, were to prevent him from running so fast after the devil. It is for that reason that the wolf has such thick bristles, and his eyes glisten in the dark. They are the hair of the devil and the sparks which have got into him through the devil's hair. And since that time when he hears the wolves howling the devil takes to his heels, lest they catch him as God commanded them to do.

Polish, Lettish and other Slavonic variations of the legend concerning the creation of the wolf by the devil are given by Dähnhardt (l.c. pp. 147 ff.), yet none so full as the Rumanian version. According to one, the devil had made the wolf so as to have a creature of his own. But he endeavoured in vain to call his creature to life, for he would persistently say to it, "Arise, for I have made thee." Only, however, when he whispered into his ear, "Arise, God has made thee," did the wolf spring to his feet. Then he attacked the devil, who ran away and escaped with difficulty.

IX.

WHY DOES THE WOLF RUN AFTER THE DEVIL?

The Story of God, the Devil and the Stone.

According to a curious Rumanian version from Transylvania (in Archiv. f. Siebenburg Landeskunde, 23, pp. 4-8, abbreviated by Dähnhardt, pp. 152-3), the devil went to God and said to him, "O Lord, thou hast created man and so many other creatures, but thou hast not yet created the wolf." And God replied, "Very well," and, showing him a huge boulder near a forest, told him to go and say to the stone, "Devil, eat the stone." The devil went and said, "Stone, eat the wolf." The boulder did not move. The devil went to God and said, "The stone does not move." "What didst thou say?" "Stone, eat the wolf." "But thou must say, 'Devil, eat the stone.'" The devil went again to the stone and said, "Stone, eat the devil." Whereupon the stone moved and ate the devil, and in its place there stood a wolf with the face of the devil. Since then there are no more devils in the world, but wolves too many.

This story, as here abbreviated, is undoubtedly corrupted. The real form must have been at the beginning, "Stone, eat the devil," but the devil changed it into, "Devil, eat the stone," until he spoke exactly as he was told, and the stone turned into a wolf.

The wolf is dreaded as the most savage beast, and could therefore only be conceived by the popular imagination as the creation of the devil.

In the northern mythology there occurs the wolf Fenrir, whose father is Loki, the God of Fire, who will play such a decisive rôle at Doomsday. Hahn (No. 105) contains the following version:

After the creation of man, the devil boasted that he could create something better. God allowed him to do so. He took some clay and moulded it and made the wolf. Then God said to him, "Give him life, as I have done." The devil started blowing into the wolf until he got red and blue in the face, but all in vain. Then God took a cane and smote the wolf on his back, and that is why the back of the wolf looks broken in the middle, and he said, "Creature, eat thy maker." Up jumped the wolf and ate the devil. (Cf. Grimm, 148.)

X.

WHY THE GOAT'S KNEES ARE BARE.

The Story of God, the Fire and the Devil.

In the beginning the goats had wings, and used to fly about eating up the tops of the trees. They did it so thoroughly that they left no leaf or bud, and never allowed a tree to grow up. When God saw what mischief they were doing, and how they were destroying all the trees, he cursed them, and, taking away their wings, he said that henceforth they should only be able to climb up crooked trees. And so they do.

When they came down upon earth, finding themselves without wings, they went and made a pact with the devil, that they should henceforth help one another. The devil willingly entered into an agreement with them. It so happened that the devil's fire went out, and he was not able to rekindle it himself, so he sent the two goats to God to steal the fire from him. God had lit his fire, he had put the tripod over the fire, and had hung on it the bowl to cook his food in. Then he sat down quietly, watching the wood crackle and burn up. When the goats came they started a conversation with God, speaking of this and speaking of that, so that God should not see that they had come for the purpose of stealing fire. When they saw they could not get on, they decided to make a rush upon the fire, and to snatch a brand from it.

So they ran towards the tripod trying to snatch the fire. God, who knew what they were bent upon, took the ladle which was sticking in the food, and with the hot stuff on it he smote the goats on their knees. The goats started running, and they shrieked from the pain of the burning food on their knees, which burned the skin so that all the hair fell out, and from that time the goats have no hair on their knees, and the devil's beasts they have remained to this very day.

In other South-Slavonian versions (Dähnhardt, i. 142 f.) it is the Evil One who invents the fire, and God is anxious to obtain it from him in order to give it to mankind. The Evil One had deprived them of it. God sends St. Peter to the Evil One with an iron rod in his hands. This he was to poke in the fire until it got white hot; then he was to touch some wood and the fire would leap up. Pursued by the Evil One, who perceived the ruse, St. Peter struck the flint before the rod had got cold, and thus got the spark inside the flint. Thus it is that sparks fly when the flint is struck by iron.

As for the goats, the following variants and parallels are of interest:

According to an Armenian legend of Transylvania (Dähnhardt, 154; Wlislocki, 12), the goat is the very work of the Evil One. Jealous of God, who has made all the creatures, he boasted that he also would make a creature of his own. When he saw how God fashioned the lamb, one of the last of God's creatures, he set to work to make an animal in the likeness of the lamb. So he made a goat. But he wanted to make it more beautiful, so he added a beard and planted some pointed horns on its head. Then he asked God to give life to his creation. God did so, and thus made for man two new animals, the good, useful and meek lamb, and the mischievous goat. God then took a vase, in which he had put the intelligence of the animals, and, finding in it only a few drops of the liquid at the bottom of the vase, he said to the devil that he must be careful in the use of these drops. So he dropped a few on the head of the lamb, but when he was going to pour some on that of the goat the devil shook the vase, and thus many more drops fell on the head of the goat than on that of the lamb. The devil laughed and said, "My creature is cleverer than thine." To which God replied, "That may be, but thy creature shall play the fool and live on scanty food."

In a Polish version (Dähnhardt, i. 162), the goat is made by the devil almost in the same manner as he made the wolf in the tales Nos. 8, 9. And the goat comes to life only when, after saying "get up," he whispers, "by the power of God." When the goat rises, the devil in his fury gets hold of its tail and pulls it off; and ever since the goats have had no tails.

In the South-Slavonic tale, curiously enough, the sheep take the place of the goat and are made by the devil, which, in the light of the above version, is due to some confusion made by the story-teller between the ram and the goat. (Krauss, Sud-slav. Sagen, Leipzig 1883, No. 29, p. 109.)

In a modern Greek legend, the devil made the goat, but he made the knees stiff, and the goats perished from hunger. One day Christ was walking upon earth, and he met the devil, who showed him the goats, and said to him: "I have also made something, but I cannot make it sit down; its knees are so stiff; so the goats die off." Whereupon Christ took his seal and placed it upon the goats' knees. Afterwards they could easily bend them. Hence the sign of the seal upon the goats' knees. (Politis, No. 842; Dähnhardt, pp. 153-4.)

In these two tales we have peculiar variants to some of the incidents in the Rumanian version, only so far as the connection of the goat with the Evil One and the bareness of the goats' knees are concerned, though the explanation is totally different from--nay, opposite to--that given in the Rumanian version, where the bareness is the sign of God's punishment of the goats.

A German tale (Grimm, 148) tells us: God made all the animals, even the wolves, which were his dogs. The devil made the goats, which destroyed the vines, the young trees, etc. The wolves then went and killed the goats, and God offered to pay the devil the price of his destroyed creatures, but only when all the oaks should lose their leaves. But the devil was told that one oak in Constantinople keeps its leaves all the year. He went in search of it for six months, and could not find it. When he returned, the other oaks had got their leaves again, and he got nothing. He poked out the eyes of the goats, and put his own in instead, and therefore they have the devil's eyes, and so the devil sometimes assumes their form.

These stories of the goat and the devil are probably one chapter of the larger and yet unwritten book on the goat-devil in popular beliefs and customs. It must suffice merely to mention the "scape-goat," the goat-demons (seirim of the Bible), the Greek fauns and satyrs. Satan, worshipped under the guise of a goat in the alleged orgies of the witches, is found in the record of the Inquisition in medieval accusations against the heretics. Is not the devil himself depicted in medieval imagery with the cloven hoof--of the goat and with the horns of the goat? The why and wherefore is another story. It is not here and now the place to enter upon it. The mischievous character of the goat, the amorous inclinations, the offensive smell, may to a certain extent have contributed later on to justify this equation of goat and devil, but there must be some other reason for making the goat, if not a type, at least the friend of Satan.

XI.

WHY DID NOAH GET DRUNK?

The Story of the Goat, Noah and the Vine.

It is said that the vine did not exist before the flood, and of course, therefore, there was no wine. The giants, whatever mischief they may have done, and however wicked may have been their ways, at any rate were never drunk. They only drank water, which is the eternal beverage for man and beast. When the flood came the giants and all the living creatures, except those whom Noah saved in the ark, were destroyed. When the flood had subsided, the animals went out, spread themselves over the earth, and multiplied very quickly.

Thus from the few head of cattle, sheep and goats there grew up soon a large number, and Noah was able to live by his cattle and his goats.

Of all these animals, Noah loved the goats best, especially when he saw them climbing about everywhere up the trees and up the rocks, going freely in all directions. One day Noah saw that one of the he-goats left the rest alone and went his own way, and when the evening came he came down dancing and jumping, quite jolly; this he repeated many days, and every evening he came home jumping and dancing, and frolicking like a madman. Noah, anxious to find out what was the reason of this peculiar behaviour of the goat, followed him quietly one day, and he found out what it was. There, on one of the hillsides, he saw a tree with very huge grapes, each one as big as a bucket. The goat went straight to these and ate his fill. Getting drunk, he laid himself down to sleep. When he woke up he started the game again, and so until the evening, when he returned home quite jolly.

Old Noah was greatly surprised at this sight, for he had never seen before any grapes; and so, climbing up as best he could, he plucked a bunch in order to take it home and show his family.

On his way home the heat grew unbearable, and he got very thirsty. He turned to the right, he turned to the left; nowhere a drop of water to be seen. I do not know what he thought; but, having the grapes in his hand, he put one in his mouth, and sucked at it. He found the juice very sweet and refreshing, so he took the other grapes and squeezed the juice into his mouth. Not satisfied with that, as his thirst was not yet quenched, he went back to the vine tree, and taking a whole cluster, he sucked it dry. When he returned, he felt somehow that his head had got rather heavier than usual, and his legs, on the contrary, were much lighter than before. Altogether he felt in a merry mood, and though old and advanced in years, he started singing a song. Getting near his house, the goat overtook him, frolicking and jumping as it had done every day.

What should enter Noah's head but to follow the example of the goat, frolicking and jumping, and in that state of high merriment both reached the house. When Noah got near the house, he looked at himself, and he could not make out what had happened to him, for he had lost almost all his clothes. They had fallen off him on the way. He could not get into the house, but, dropping down in front of it, he fell fast asleep. There his sons found him, and thinking that he was dangerously ill, put him on his bed and began wailing over him, for they were sure he was at death's door.

The next morning, to their astonishment, he woke hale and hearty, and there and then he told them all about the goat and the vine and the grape and the sweet juice. Then Noah gave orders that the vine should be taken from the hills and planted in his garden. Before he did so, he killed the goat and poured the blood of it on to the roots in remembrance of the fact that it was through the goat that he discovered the vine.

Thus far the Rumanian story, which, however, requires completion. As far as it goes it agrees almost verbatim with a story found in a very ancient Hebrew collection of legends (Midrash Abkhir); the sequel there is as follows: When Noah started planting the vine, the devil came and asked to be allowed to take a part in it. Noah willingly agreed. After killing the goat, the devil brought a lion, whose blood was also used to water the roots of the vine, and finally brought a swine, and his blood was also poured over the roots of the vine.

For this reason it comes to pass that, when a man drinks a little wine he gets merry and jumps and frolics like a young kid; and if he drinks a little more, he becomes hot and roars like the lion; and his last stage is reached when he wallows in the mire like the pig, for he has drunk the blood of all of them.

Here, then, we have a tale which shows how a man can become a beast without changing his human form, not like all the other tales, in which he remains a bird or a beetle to the end of his days.

A peculiar transformation of this legend is found in the following variant, in which the bones of the animals are substituted for their blood. The whole setting is different from the more primitive type preserved in the Rumanian.

When Saint Dionysios was still young, he once made a journey through Greece, in order to go to Naxia (the isle of Naxos), but the way being very long, he got tired and sat down on a stone to rest. While he was sitting, and looking down in front of himself, he saw at his feet a little plant sprouting from the earth, which seemed to him so beautiful that he resolved at once to take it with him and to plant it. He took the plant out of the ground and carried it away; but, as the sun was very hot just then, he feared that it might dry up before his arrival in Naxia. Then he found the small bone of a bird, and put the plant into it and went on. In his holy hand, however, the plant grew so quickly that it peeped forth from both sides of the bone. Then he again feared that it would dry up, and thought of a remedy. He found the bone of a lion, which was thicker than the bird's bone, and he put the bird's bone, together with the plant, into the bone of the lion. But the plant quickly grew, even out of the lion's bone. Then he found the bone of a donkey, which was still thicker, and he put the plant, together with the bird's and lion's bones, into the donkey's bone, and so he came to Naxia. When he was planting it, he saw that the roots had wound thickly round the bones of the bird, the lion and the donkey; and, as he could not take it out without injuring the roots, he planted it in the ground as it was, and it quickly grew up and produced, to his delight, the finest grapes, from which he made the first wine, which he gave to men to drink. But what a wonder did he see now! When men drank of it, they sang in the beginning like merry little birds; drinking more of it, they became strong as lions; and drinking still more, they became stupid like donkeys. (Hahn, Albn. Märchen, ii. 76; v. also Thumb, Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, Manchester, vol. ii. No. 1, Oct. 1914, p. 38 and note 50).

I add here a Christmas carol about the shepherd and the sheep, for it seems that at the basis of it lies the idea of God giving a special blessing to the sheep. It is a second stage after the idea of creation of the sheep by God.

XII.

GOD AND THE LAMB.

A Christmas Carol.

On the flowery mountain, O Lord, good Lord, Nica feeds his flock. He feeds them, He drives them, He touches the foremost, He gathers the hindmost, And leads them into the pasture. But where has he fixed the pasture? On the top of the mountains, Under the yellow plane tree. A summer breeze is blowing, Shaking the leaves, And scattering them over the plain. The sheep grew excited, And they made a great noise. They bleated, and the bleating reached the heaven and the earth. The Holy God heard them, And he came down to them, And thus he spake with his mouth: "Halloo, brave Nica, whose are these sheep, Which bleat so beautifully, So beautifully and devoutly?" Nica the brave replied: "O dear merciful God, As thou hast come and askest me, I will answer truly To whom these sheep belong: They are thine, As well as mine. I feed them; Thou guardest them. I milk them; Thou multipliest them. I shear them; Thou makest them grow." The good God replied And said to Nica the brave: "May they be given to thee From me as a gift-- From a good father To a clever son-- For thou art sweet of tongue. But thou shalt give me, On St. John's day, Two lambs; On St. George's day One suckling lamb; And on Ascension day A cake of cheese." Nica the brave May live in health, He and his brothers And his parents. May God keep you all.

This refers no doubt to the creation of the sheep by God--as mentioned before--and the manner in which the sheep were expected to help Adam after the fall. (v. Wolf Story No. 7.)

XIII.

THE HART AND THE MAKING OF THE WORLD.

A Christmas Carol.

Slowly, slowly, O Lord, The little river Olt Has grown big, So big That the borders cannot be seen. But what is coming Down the Olt? Tall pines And dry fir trees. Among the pines, Among the fir trees, A three-year-old stag Is swimming. The stag swims, And lifts up its horns. On the top of his horns A cradle is hanging and swinging, A green cradle made of silk, Woven in six strands. But who sits in the cradle? The maiden, the young girl, With her tresses hanging down the back, Shining Like the holy sun. She sits and sews, And embroiders A collar for her father, A kerchief for her brother. But she stops and does not sew, Nor does her mouth keep quiet, For she is singing: "Slowly, slowly, Old stag, Slowly, slowly be thou swimming. Do not hinder my work. And the waves are rising; They might wash me off and carry me off thy horns. Slowly, slowly, Dear old stag, For I have three brothers at court, Where they learn many things. All the three are noted hunters, And good falconers. They will discover thee, And run after me. With their falcons they will pursue thee. With their dogs they will worry thee. With their lances they will prick thee. Slowly, slowly, Dear old stag-- For if my brothers find thee, They will make my wedding feast With thy poor flesh. With thy bones They will build My little house. With thy skin They will cover My little home. With thy blood They will paint My little courts. And with thy head They will celebrate The holy feast. They will place it Over the gate, At the entrance of the little garden. Of thy hoofs They will make Crystal cups, Out of which Nobles drink. On rare occasions-- On Christmas day and Epiphany-- When the whole world rejoices, I drink to the health of these houses For many years.

The mythical stag carrying on his horns a girl who is like the sun is similar to the bull of Mithras and to the bull in the Avesta, out of which the world was created. The stag provides here all the elements for the building of a house and for the merriment of the nobles. Each part of its body is accounted for.

XIV.

WHY IS THE FLY CALLED THE DEVIL'S HORSE?

The Fight of St. George and the Devil.

In Rumania, the dragon-fly is known as the devil's horse or perhaps the dragon's horse. It is also known as St. George's horse. The following legends explain this peculiar name.

We are told that in olden times there was continual strife between God and the devil. God, however, who is peacefully inclined, let the devil play his game as long as possible. He thought that perhaps after some time the devil might become better behaved. But what can you expect of the devil? He is what he is, and neither good nor bad treatment will change him. And so it proved even to God. He waited a very long time to see him quiet down and become more satisfied. But no sooner had God granted him one thing, than the devil asked for another, and so he went on asking continually. When at last God saw that nothing could be done with Satan, he armed his host of angels and gave each one a beautiful horse to ride on. One morning, at early dawn, they all mounted their horses and, led by St. George, who was riding at the head of the host, they started the fight with the devil.

After a time St. George--who rode a horse, which was like unto none of the others, wondrously beautiful--felt suddenly that his horse was backing instead of going ahead. So St. George found himself involved among his own host, and some other horses following his example, started moving backwards and hitting those who were riding behind them. He then suddenly heard the voice of God telling him to dismount, for his horse had been bewitched by the devil. "If that is the case," said St. George, "then be it the devil's own," and he let it go. And so it happened. Scarcely had it made three steps when it was changed into a flying insect, which we, upon this earth, call the devil's horse (libellula depressa).

A similar legend must have been current in West Europe and in England, as otherwise the English name of Dragon-fly could not be explained. At the root of it there must be some legend of St. George and the Dragon, in addition to the fight between the hosts of heaven and the army of Satan. This part must have entirely dropped out, and the knowledge and recollection of the part which St. George played was connected either with the worm, i.e. dragon probably transformed into an insect, or the horse of St. George, believed to have been a winged horse. To us here, however, the first part of the legend is of the utmost interest, for it is nothing less than the Biblical legend of the rebellion of Satan which led to the combat and to the fall. Satan had lost Paradise, and ever since then he had been yearning for the light of Paradise, either by attempting to steal the heavenly fire, as in the Goat stories, or by stealing the sun and moon as in some of the Christmas carols. Thereby he entered into a contest with the heavenly power. Though these variants do not contain much of the legendary fauna, they form an important part in the mythological conception which lies at the root of many of these creation-tales and legends.

XV.

THE DEVIL STEALING THE SUN.

A Christmas Carol.

In the glory of the heavens, On the outskirts of Paradise, Close to the throne of God-- The throne of Judgment-- Where the whole world gathers, Tables are decked, And the saints sit round the table. John St. John, Ilie St. Ilie, Peter St. Peter, With all the other saints, Are feasting joyously. The Lord came then to the table, Sat down at the table, Blessed the bread, And began To eat. They were eating, Or not eating, For on a sudden They lifted their eyes, And whom should they see from afar? The archangel Gabriel And the angel Michael, Who were coming, always coming, Drawing nearer and nearer, and then they reached the table. They bent their knees before the Lord, Bent their knees and prayed. And said the following: "Dost thou know, O Lord, or dost thou not know, What has happened in Paradise? What we have seen and what has been done? No sooner had St. Peter gone, And Ilie followed suit, And St. John had left us, When the heathen gods, realising it, Stormed Paradise, Entered inside, Robbed it and Have taken away the crown of Paradise. They have taken the moon, With its light. They have taken the twilight, With its glimmer. They have taken the stars, With their flowers. They have taken the sun, With its treasures. The heathen gods have further taken away The throne of judgment, Before which the whole world must appear. They have carried it all away into hell. Paradise is darkened, Whilst hell is lit up. We have fought as much as we could fight, But they overpowered us. They refuse to give up the spoil. We have now come to tell you, To bring our prayer as a sacrifice, That you may render us help, And come back with us to Paradise." When the Lord heard it, He made a sign to the saints, And turned his eyes upon the angels, And went with them To bear them company. First St. Ilie, Who is the most powerful saint; And second to him St. Peter, To smite the heathen gods with drought. They followed him. They started, John baptising, St. Ilie striking with his lightning flashes, St. Peter drenching with rains and downpours. When they arrived at hell St. Ilie struck with his lightning; St. Peter cursed them; St. John baptised them. The idols were seized with trembling. They fell on their knees, And submitted to St. John. The archangel Gabriel, Together with the angel Michael, Entered hell, Took everything In their arms, And brought them back to Paradise. Holy moon with its light, The twilight With its rays, The stars With their flowers, The sun With its treasures, The throne of judgment, Before which all men must appear, They brought them back to Paradise, And Paradise again shone brightly. Hell was darkened. They turned to the Lord, And prayed: "May, O Lord, thy will And thy kingdom last forever. To your health for many years to come."

This carol is full of apocryphal reminiscences and mythical elements. The contest between Satan and God, and between the evil and good powers is here described under the form of Satan, stealing the sun from heaven and plunging the world into darkness, but the angels, with the prophet Ilie (Elijah) at their head, are able to defeat the machinations of Satan, and to restore the sun to Paradise. Cf. among others the English poem, "The Harrowing of Hell," and the literature connected with the Gospel of Nicodemus. Wesselofsky has studied the transformation of the prophet Elijah into the Ilie of the popular faith, who rides the heavens with a thunderbolt in his hands, and smites the devil wherever he finds him. It is a combination of the prophet Elijah with a modified form of the Greek Helias. The archangels Gabriel and Michael are here in their proper place, whilst in the story of the dragon-fly they have been supplanted by St. George. We shall find the same saint disguised as a knight and almost forgotten as a saint in the legend of the Fly of Kolumbatsh, No. 21.

XVI.

WHY IS IT CALLED THE BULL-FLY?

The Story of God, the Sun and the Bulls.

In those days when God used to walk through fields and lanes carrying his knapsack on his back and feeding his herds and flocks, his oxen and cows, his sheep and goats, it is told that, once upon a time, feeling very tired, he went to sleep with his head upon a hillock of earth. He slept for a long while, and woke up very late. Before lying down, he told the older and stronger oxen to take care to behave themselves well, and also to look after the younger ones, so that there should not be any fight or trouble among them. But no sooner had he closed his eyes, when such a shouting and bellowing was started that one might think that the hills were falling and the earth was breaking up. The Lord sprang upon his feet as if he had been touched by fire, for the holy sun had come to him, and waking him up had said:--"O Lord, these creatures of yours have bellowed all night long so loud and so vigorously that you might have thought that they intended driving me away from the face of the earth. Look and see what they have done to me. They have fought against me so long that they have well-nigh torn my clothes into shreds and tatters, and with great difficulty I saved myself behind that flower-bed."

"What beetles are you speaking of?" asked the Lord.

"I mean your oxen which have behaved so badly. They are not worthy to be anything else but horned beetles."

"Let it be so! But I must first look into the matter, and if I find them guilty, I will punish them just as you wish."

And as the Lord had said, so he did. For, finding them guilty, he drove them away into the forest. There they climbed up the oak-trees, and suddenly they all became horned beetles, bull-flies, with larger and smaller horns, viz. the cows became cow-flies with smaller horns and the oxen bull-flies with larger horns, through God's punishment. That is why they are called the Lord's bulls and cows (Lucanus cervus).

According to another legend, the bull-flies were originally the angels who refused to help St. Elias in fastening the felloes to his fiery chariot. Therefore their mouths have been closed as with a vice, for ever, so that they be no longer able to speak, and that is why they are also called wheelwrights.

The horns of these bull-flies are used by women, who tie them into their hair against the evil eye. The sharp points of these horns have the same magical properties as the sharp points of the coral, or of the horns, fingers, etc., which figure so largely in the magical charms and amulets against the workings of the evil eye.

XVII.

WHY IS THE SAW-FLY RED?

The Story of Ileana, Voinic and the Archangel Gabriel.

The following legend is told of this little beetle.

I do not know how long ago it was that Ileana Cosinziana (Ileana the fay) walked about with her young, beautiful, and brave hero (Voinic inflorit), and, singing with a loud voice, they filled mountain and valleys with their music. It must have been long ago, for at that time the archangel Gabriel also walked the earth in the form of a very old man, leaning on iron crutches. He went about warning the people that God would send upon them a new flood of foreign tongues and wild nations, if they would not stop their quarrels and put an end to their curses. After having travelled through many countries and empires, St. Gabriel found himself one day at the top of a cliff, so high that it made your head turn when you looked down. There he met Ileana Cosinziana, who was weeping and singing a doleful tune. With her was Voinic inflorit, whom she had met in the land of the fairies, just as God makes men meet in their journeys. "How far art thou going?" asked Voinic, seeing the old man. "Much farther than thou wilt go," replied the archangel Gabriel. The young man looked up, feeling wroth with the answer. And quite naturally so, when he heard a very old man boasting that he was going much farther than he. Was he not a young sturdy man, and more likely to walk ever so much further than a bent-down old fellow grey of hair? "O old man, you must take me for a weakling, when you say that I cannot walk as far as you do."

"Young man, your sweet, strong voice will not be heard any more a year hence."

"And why?"

"Because such is the will of God."

"Yes, that might be so if you were the brother of Christ," replied the young man, sneering.

"I may not be the brother of Christ, but that of St. Peter I may well be. If you do not believe me, let us enter a wager that a year hence we will meet here again. But you will be weak and broken, much more so than you think me to be now."

"Well, be it so, but woe betide thee if I win the wager."

"So it shall be."

And wishing one another good-bye, each went his own way, bent on winning the wager.

"Who was that daring old man?" asked the Ileana; "it seems to me that he is not so old as his grey hair betokens. He is a valiant man. God knows who he may be, but one thing is certain, he is not an old man."

"How did you know it?"

"Well, when he put out his hand, he gripped mine with so much strength that he very nigh burnt my soul out of me with the fire of his hand."

When the young Voinic heard it, he got so angry that he was more like a wild beast than a human being, and being overpowered by his fury, got hold of her by the hair of her head and hurled her down the cliff so that she broke into a thousand pieces. He then began to run away so fast that the earth seemed to fly away under his feet. And thus he continued running through many lands and many countries, until the year had come round when he was to meet the old man again. On the last day of the year, Voinic remembered the wager, and looking into the water at the bottom of a well, he saw himself much weaker and older than the old man had looked a year ago. In his anger he threw himself into the well. But, in accordance with the will of God, the water would not keep him, and cast him out. He had got very old indeed, for the thoughts and worries had cut deep furrows into his face; his hair from black, turned white as the snow. This was because in his fury and in an unlucky hour he had killed his beloved Ileana by throwing her down the cliff.

The archangel Gabriel, who knew all that had happened, changed into a young man beautiful as the sun, valiant as a king and brave as a lion. He was mounted on a charger black as the night and swift as the wind. Thus arrayed, he came to the cliff where they had arranged to meet. Voinic noticed that against his will he had also come to that spot. How great then was his fright when, instead of a decrepit old man, he found there so valiant a knight.

"Good morning, Voinic."

"All hail! I am no longer a hero full of sap; I am now an old weak man."

"He, he, seest thou now that what I had told thee has come to pass? I have grown young and thou hast grown old. So it is, for who can alter the will of God? He can do what he likes, and man must submit to his decrees. So it is, indeed, but how now about our wager? Where is that beautiful maiden of thine, in whom thou didst believe more than in God?"

"She died soon after we met."

"True, she is dead, for thou, O wretch, hast killed her."

"I assuredly did not; she died by the will of God."

"Oh no, thou hast thrown her down the cliff. I know it well, for I have seen the rut on the cliff she fell down."

"That is not true, for I have buried her with the assistance of the priest of the next village. If thou dost not believe, come with me, and I will show thee the grave."

"This is an infamous lie. Thou hast murdered her. Thou come and I will show thee her real grave and her blood."

And, getting hold of him, he took him down and showed him a place which seemed covered with red blood. But it was no blood. It was a vast number of small red beetles. "Out of the blood of Ileana, seest thou, have come these little flies."

When Voinic heard this, he was seized with such a great fright that he became changed from the old bent man that he was into a small black insect, which unto this very day cries for his lost beloved Ileana. The people call it the little cricket, or rather the bull or cow of the Lord (Lygaeus equestris). The little red beetles which come out of the blood of Ileana they also call Easter beetle, for it was on Easter Day that she was thrown down the cliff.

XVIII.

WHY DOES THE SAW-FLY LIVE IN STABLES?

The Story of St. Mary and the Miserly Farmer.

Another legend of a totally different character is also told of this little beetle.

When the Holy Mother gave birth to Jesus, she had not enough milk in her breasts to suckle the child. Next to her on the right lived a very rich farmer who had a large number of cows. So the mother Mary sent to him, and asked him to give her a little milk, as much as was necessary to feed her little baby. But rich farmers are, as a rule, very stingy. So he replied, "I am not going to give my good milk to a witch to bewitch my cows and take away their gift."

The Holy Mother, on hearing his words, got very angry, especially when she heard that he had called her a witch. But she kept her counsel, and went to the neighbour on the left, who had only one cow. He was a kind-hearted man, and gave her at once a bowl full of milk. When she left, she blessed him and said: "On the morrow thou shalt not know what to do with the milk," i.e. he would have so much milk that he would not know how to handle it. And so it happened. When, on the next morning, he entered the stables he found them full of beautiful fat kine, from which the milk was running, so rich were they.

But the stingy neighbour the Holy Mother cursed, and said: "On the morrow thy stable shall be empty, and in lieu of cows, beetles shall be there." And so also it happened. When he entered the stables the next morning, he found them empty, and instead of the cows, which were no longer there, the stables were full of little red flies with black spots on their backs, crawling up the walls and filling the manger. And that is why they are called the cows and oxen of the Lord.

To obtain abundance of milk peasant women in the Bukovina go on a Tuesday evening to a place where there are a number of these insects. The next morning, before sunrise, they go there again and, taking a number of them, bring them home, chop them up with their choppers and, mixing them with the food, give them to the cows to eat. The cows will then yield much milk.

XIX.

WHY IS THE LADY-BIRD DAINTY?

The Story of the Wicked Maiden and the Archangel Michael.

In olden times, when the men were not yet so wicked and bad, there was no hell, for the good God saw that it would remain empty, as there would be no one to go there. The people were happy and grateful, and satisfied with whatever God gave them. It did not enter their minds to complain of God's wisdom and love. After a time the people multiplied so much that they could no longer have enough of anything. So they began to quarrel with one another. Those who had nothing, without knowing that they were doing anything wrong, began to demand whatever they wanted from the wealthy ones. They did not know that it was forbidden to take another man's property. For up till then no one knew what sin was. The Allmerciful God, who sees and knows everything, noting that strife and quarrels increased more and more among men, sent his trusty servant, the archangel Michael, to awaken mankind to the sense of sin, and to train them to good deeds. The archangel went among the people, enlightened their minds, and told them all about sin and wrong-doing, and what they had to do in order to avoid sin. That was just the knowledge that the people were lacking; but no sooner did they know what evil was, than, curiously enough, they took to wrong-doing. Jealousy, greed, strife, and murder were born among them. When God saw the obstinacy and perverseness of mankind, he let them go their own way to do whatever they liked, even if they acted against his wishes. In order to punish them, however, he decided not to allow them to get into Paradise. At the edge of the garden he made a deep well; so deep that it was very dark, almost black. He then took a fiery morning star, and cast him into the depth of the well, thus filling it with burning coals. And then he turned every wicked man into that fire so that he might repent. He called that place Hell: and so it has remained to this day. In order that men should know that God knows how to reward them, he at times left the gate of Paradise open, so that everyone, if he liked, could enter into it and see how beautiful it was. He also opened the gates of Hell, so that they might also see the tortures and hear the cries of the wicked.

Many people went and looked, and when they looked into Paradise, their hearts swelled with joy; but when they went and looked into Hell, their hearts got as small as a flea on account of the great fright they got, when they saw how severely God punished the sinner. They all repented of their evil ways, all of them, great and small, except one single person, who on no account would repent. This one was a girl as beautiful as an angel, and clever beyond comparison. She was strong, with a fine body, round and sleek as no other, and she had a head so beautiful that you might believe it was a picture. Her long black hair, soft like silk, shone like the feathers of a raven. Her eyes were black and sparkling--she could almost burn you up with her look--her mouth had lips as red as the berries of the field--her cheeks were white and smooth as snow lit up with two blood-red roses. I do not know--by God I do not--where there is anyone who would not have fallen in love with her. God sent the archangel Michael to take her out of this world and put her in Hell, there to repent of her sins of obstinacy and perversity. He went, but when he looked at her, he could not utter a single word. He felt as though he had a knot in his throat when he was to tell her that she must prepare for the journey. For he knew how terrible it is in Hell. So he returned to Heaven without taking the girl with him to throw her into the abysmal depths. When God saw him so sad, he asked him what was the cause of it.

"O Lord," said the archangel, "I have fulfilled all thy commands except one, which I could not fulfil; I had pity on the beauty of that girl. She is so beautiful that you cannot help feeling full of pity, and to feel a sweet shiver passing through you when you behold her. If it be possible, O Lord, let her live on for a while, perchance she will repent."

"O my son Michael, thou dost not know that thy pity will cause me much trouble and worry. Just look down and see. Since thou hast left her, she has increased the number of the wicked and sinful. For whoever looks at her is seized with lust. Everyone thinks only of her eyes and her face. When I sent thee, she was the only one left who was wicked, for she alone was possessed of pride, obstinacy and perverseness. Now the number has grown."

"O, Lord, if it be only possible, do not uproot that example of womankind, for she is beautiful, and it is not likely that another like her will ever be born."

"Very well, then, I will let her live on, perchance she will repent and get better; but if she does not grow better at the end of one year, I will send thee again, and then thou wilt throw her down into the depths of Hell."

"Well, let thy will be done."

And with these words they separated, God going to mend the hinges of the world, and the archangel to teach and to enlighten the mortals. So, going through many countries, walking on foot or riding in a car, when a year had past he came at last again to the house of the beautiful maiden. There was a vast multitude assembled before her house. He pushed his way among the people to see at what they were looking. The beautiful maiden was enticing the people to follow only pleasure and pride.

"It is not good," so she spoke, "to believe only in what God and his counsellors tell us. We must do what we think best, for no evil will happen to us."

When the archangel Michael heard these words, he grew very furious, and, with a mighty effort, he got near her, so as to seize her and hurl her into the fire of Hell.

"Do not carry her to Hell," said the voice of God; "for she might start fresh mischief and wickedness there also, and engender strife: she had better be changed into some insignificant insect."

When the archangel heard the command, he got hold of her by the hair of her head, and he whirled her round so many times that she became as small as a speck; and then, throwing her away, she turned into a small red insect with black points on her wings, which was called Bubureaza (Coccinella septempundata). To this very day, when you put her on your finger, she will show you the way you are to go, but it is better for men to do the reverse and go in the opposite direction; for she leads one only to evil.

XX.

WHY DOES THE GAD-FLY STING THE CATTLE?

The Story of God, St. Peter and the Lazy Shepherd.

In olden times God and St. Peter used to walk about in the world, to see what was happening, and how the world was going on. And after they had seen what happened in one province, they used to go to another.

Once upon a time, after leaving a certain village, they got into a deep and dark forest. Walking along for a while, they lost their way, and did not know how to get out of it. Tired and hungry, they walked on, lost in that thick and gloomy wood, when suddenly before them they saw a field, in which grass and flowers were growing and herds of cattle were feeding. The cowherd lay fast asleep under the shadow of a tree. He could take it easily, for the cattle were not suffering from flies, and were wandering quietly about the field. God and St. Peter rejoiced greatly when they saw a man lying there. They went up to him and woke him, and asked him to tell them the way which would take them out of the forest. The cowherd, being asked by God which was the quickest road, did not even lift up his head to give a polite answer. But lying outstretched on the grass, he merely moved his right leg and, half asleep and lazy as he was, and pointing in one direction, said, "If you wish to get out to the world of men, just go that way and you will get there." Then, turning over on the other side, he again fell asleep.

God and St. Peter, resenting the rudeness of the cowherd, said, "Are these, then, thy manners? Very well, thou wilt no longer be lazy from this day onwards. Thy cattle will no longer feed quietly; the gad-fly, which I am sending, will sting them, and they will run like mad whither their feet and their eyes will carry them." And so it happened. The gad-fly came and the cows and oxen suddenly started running like mad in all directions, and so it has remained to this very day.

The cowherd, when he saw the cattle running like mad things with their tails in the air, jumped up like one stung to madness, and started running after them to bring them back. But in vain, for the cattle, which had run away as quickly as you strike a spark from the flint, entered into a swamp.

After they had thus punished the cowherd, God and St. Peter went on walking without knowing whither they were going. So again, after a long walk in that same forest, they came to another meadow, where a shepherd tended his flock of sheep. But the sheep were running all the time so fast that you could not see their legs. Hither and thither they went, and the shepherd after them, out of breath, and the sweat running down his face, hoping that he might get them together. But the sheep were as if they had been bewitched, so fast did they run. And whilst the shepherd could scarcely keep on his legs, and the sweat was standing on his forehead like beads, God and St. Peter approached him and asked him which was the way they were to go to come back to this world. Although he was dead tired and hot, the shepherd none the less stopped still and, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, said:

"Please, take that way, for if you follow that road, you will soon get to the end of the forest."

They took the way he showed them, and soon they found themselves in this world. And God said to his companion:

"From this day onward, the flock of this shepherd, who has given us good advice, so courteously, shall no longer suffer from the gad-fly (and the running madness), and they shall only run at times of rain and wind. They will henceforth feed quietly, and the shepherd also will be able to sit down and play his pipe." And from that day on the sheep feed quietly, and the shepherd can tend them in peace and comfort, for the sheep do not suffer from the gad-fly (Hypoderma bovis), whilst the cowherds must weary their legs, as otherwise their cattle would disappear.

There is a Macedonian variation:

Once upon a time God changed into a very old man. Walking one day in a terrific heat, he met a cowherd and asked him for a drop of water, for he said he would die of thirst. "Die," replied the cowboy, and would neither give him a drop of water nor tell him where to find it.

God found afterwards a shepherd hotly pursuing his sheep, and the perspiration running down him. "Give me a drop of water, for I die," said God.

"I give you willingly, but my sheep have run away and I do not know how to gather them"; and going to a fountain at the foot of a hill he took some in his fur cap and gave him to drink. God gathered the sheep, and blessed them to be God's flock, who should never henceforth separate on the road or be scattered. Remembering the cowherd, he cursed him and said: "The gad-fly is always to scatter his herd just when the heat is greatest, so that he may run like mad."

Therefore the sheep always walk together in flocks, and gather together in hot summer weather in the shade. And for that reason the oxen are driven mad by the fly in the hot season, and they run like mad as if they were ridden by devils. The cowherd has to run after them, and there are but few fountains in Thessaly from which to slacken his thirst.

XXI.

WHY DOES THE FLY OF KOLUMBATSH POISON THE CATTLE?

The Ballad of the Knight and the Dragon.

Numerous ballads recount the same story of the origin of the Poison-fly of Kolumbatsh, with slight variations, of which the most complete is the following:

High up in the green forest What does appear? High up in the forest of Cerna, At the ford of Rushava, Have gone forth, verily gone forth, From some village nigh, Very early in the morning, Through dew and mist, Three sisters, Beautiful maidens. The elder sister, Dressed sweetly, Fair like a pink flower, Surpassing a fairy, When you espy her breast, White like a lily. The younger sister, Darling Maria, Full of pride In her eyebrows, In her eyes and lashes, And when you look into her eyes, You are like one smitten by the evil eye. The youngest sister, Like unto a dove, Ana Ghirosana, Like the fairy Sanziana, Surpassed them all. She is like the evening star, And the star of morn, The flower of flowers. They played and frolicked, And gathered flowers. They made wreaths, And while they twisted them they sang. Through the forest the singing was heard. Thus they went on, Until, overcome, The youngest lay down, And went to sleep. The elder two, The sisters twain, When night arrived, To their home they turned. They left the youngest behind, Who was fast asleep, Until the dawn appeared, When she called for them. But none heard her, Except the little cuckoo, Beautiful and brave, Who flitted among the trees, And sang with a loud voice. "Dear Cuckoo mine, Listen to me, you brave one! Lead me out into the open, To the road of carriages, That I find my sisters, For I will be unto thee a cousin!" "My sweet one! I do not know Whether I will lead thee into the open or not, For I have many cousins, As many as there are flowers on the mountain!" "Cuckoo, cuckoo, listen, O brave one! Lead me into the open, To the road of cars. I will be a sister unto thee." The cuckoo replied: "No, my child, no, For I have sisters as many As flowers that bloom in spring." "Cuckoo, cuckoo, listen, O brave one! Lead me into the open, That I may find my sisters, For I will be a wife unto thee As long as I live." "O no, for I am not a young man Able to wed. I am only a little bird, And I know not of a beloved one." Then suddenly appeared from a rock The most horrible fright, Gruesome and cruel-- Twisting and crawling across the path-- A terrible dragon. Running after her, He coiled himself round her, Twisted his tail Round her waist; he encircled her. She was seized with terror, And shrieked aloud. The forest resounded. High up the Cerna, Very high up the river, Many a brave has passed, And all were laid low. A valiant Ruman, Ioan Iorgovan, Whose arms were like clubs, Was riding upon a horse, Swift as the eagle, Followed by two little dogs, Keen and quick. He was riding gaily, Walking up the Cerna Quite quickly, His horse prancing, Encouraging his dogs, And waving his lance. He suddenly heard a noise, But he did not understand, However much he strained, Whether it was the voice of a man Or that of a woman. For the waves of the Cerna raged, Sounding loud through the forest. So he turned himself back, And said to the Cerna: "O my clean Cerna, Stop, I pray thee, stop, For I will throw Into thy bed, And I will give thee a silver lamprey, And a golden distaff, With dragon's eyes, Which will spin and turn by itself." The Cerna heard him, And at once stood still. Then Ioan Iorgovan, With arms like clubs, At once heard And knew the voice, That it was not that of a man, But that of a woman. Then he got angry, Spurred on his horse, And, striking it hard, He roared like a lion, Splitting the air. The dragon got sight of him, And, seized with fear, it ran away. But he followed it, And jumped across the Cerna, And approached it. The dragon waited for him, And asked him: "Ioan Iorgovan, With arms like clubs. With what kind of a good message Dost thou come this day to me? Or hast thou the thought To destroy me? I pray thee, grant me peace, And turn back to thy home. I swear on my head That, dead, I shall be worse. For, if thou killest me, My head will rot. Worms will breed; Flies will swarm, Who will bite thy horse. It will burst of the poison, The oxen will run mad, The plough will come to a standstill!" "Accursed snake! Thou still bandiest words. I will teach the country, And the people will hearken to me. They will raise the smoke, And thy flies they will choke. My horse will not die, But thou shalt perish, For I have heard That thou hast killed A beautiful maid With thy robber's jaw." "Ioan Iorgovan, When I heard thy approach, Thy horse's trot, Roaring like a dragon, I at once left the maid Safe and unhurt. I pray thee, Leave me alone, And turn back to thy home. I swear on my head, Worse shall I be dead." Ioan Iorgovan, With arms like clubs, Brandished his sword, Hit the snake, And cut it up in pieces. The maid looked on Until he had finished it, Then she showed herself, And thus she spake: "Ioan Iorgovan, With arms like clubs, Lead me out in the open, To the carriage road, That I may meet my sisters, For I shall be unto thee a wife As long as I be alive." When he beheld her, Wonder seized him Of her beauty and of her youth. "Ho, my beautiful flower, Who art like a young fairy, Be then to me a wife As long as you be alive." He then embraced her And kissed her. He then looked on-- May it burst-- There was the dragon's head Running away, Painting the Cerna red with his blood. And it ran across the Danube, Until it hid itself in the dark cave. There it rotted. The worms bred And flies swarmed. And so it is to this very day; When the fly comes out It bites the horses, It poisons the oxen, And stops the plough.

Thus far this, the most complete version.

There are a number of other variants, but the central idea is the same, that the poison-fly (Musca Columbaca) comes from the head of the dragon, slain by the knight Ioan Iorgovan.

The people show the imprint of the hoofs and the traces of Iorgovan's dogs on the high cliff overhanging the banks of the Danube.

This legend, localised in Rumania on the borders of Servia, is of special interest for hagiography. It is nothing else but a variant of the legend of St. George and the Dragon. It has assumed a peculiar form, differing greatly from the other versions of that fight, which is known all over the East and West, and lives in many forms and versions. In the Rumanian hagiography there are at least two or three versions of the legend as found in the Vitae Sanctorum and the Synaxarium of the Greek and Slavonic Church. Thus it is found in one of the oldest Rumanian prints, the Homiliary of 1646, the very first book printed at Jasi, in Moldavia, in the Rumanian language. It occurs also in part in the Lives of the Saints by the Archbishop Dositheus, who used MS. collections for his book, printed also in Jasi, in 1682. An elaborate version is to be found in the great collection of the Lives of the Saints in twelve volumes, by Bishop Benjamin of Moldavia, and then reprinted in Bucharest in 1836. All these collections are full of apocryphal matter, and the Life of St. George makes no exception. There is one point more to which attention must be drawn in this connection, viz. the influence of the Genoese and Venetian traders who had established emporia along the Danube and the Black Sea, among them one which to this very day has retained the name of St. George. Along the Danube, on the left bank, on what is now Rumania, stands that place, called Giurgiu in honour of the patron saint of the Genoese who found it. Thus, from many quarters, one or the other version became known to the folk, and was localised at that point where the Carpathian mountains seem to dip into the Danube, to emerge again on the other side and continue rising and forming the chain of the Balkans. From a philological point of view the name Iorgu Iorgovan denotes Servian influences.

XXII.

WHY IS THERE A WORM IN THE APPLE?

The Story of God and the False Teachers.

Before God came upon the earth there were a number of men who were very clever, and who followed the rule of the devil. They claimed that they could change themselves into dogs and cats, for the devil, who took much pleasure in his clever people, helped them. Those who saw them, believed them to be gods, and worshipped them and brought them gifts. The devil almost jumped out of his skin with delight, for he hoped that all the nations would do likewise, and soon God would be forgotten. But God was watching the doings of the devil quietly from above, until at last, seeing to what lengths he was going, he said:

"By God! it is no good sitting here with my hands in my lap. I must go down and put matters straight."

So God took on the form of man, and went down among the people, going from country to country and from village to village. At last, one day, he made it known through all the land that all the clever men should come together at a certain place to perform their arts, and whoever would win in that competition, he would give him a sackful of gold.

On the appointed day, all the clever men came together in a big hall which God had prepared. It was surrounded by numerous apple-trees on all sides. The clever men did what they could, each one more clever than the other. They changed themselves into cats and dogs. At last God said to them:

"You have all done very well, but I would ask you to make me an apple like those on the trees here around."

In vain did they try to make an apple, but they could not succeed. So God sent lightning among them, which so terrified them that they crawled into the apples to hide themselves there. And God turned them into caterpillars that can only live in apples. This is the origin of the worm (Carpocapsa pomonella) which infests the orchards of apples and pears. In order to protect them from this pest the Rumanians of Bukovina keep a special Day of the worms, on the Tuesday in the first week of the month of May. On it, it is strictly forbidden to work, and it is good to give away a cake and other good things in alms for the benefit (of the souls) of these men turned into flies. It is also good to bring into the orchard a red Easter egg, which has been taken to Church.

Whoever catches an orchard worm and spits on its head, he spits on the devil between the horns.

Whoever throws any of these worms into the fire throws into it the devil's servant.

If we should call the "clever" men by the name of "Perfecti," of which the former is an excellent translation, we might find in this legend a slightly changed report of an act of accusation raised by the Inquisition against the Albigenses and Cathars whose teachers went by the name of "Perfecti." These men were accused of being the servants and tools of the devil, and of possessing the power of changing themselves into animals, the cat being the special animal of the devil. It was said, moreover, that they enticed the world to the worship of the devil, and that they had almost succeeded in turning whole nations away from the true worship of God, so that it required his own interposition in order to save the world from the machinations of these men. He turned them into worms, which at any rate continued to exist in apples and pears--the Inquisition has turned them into dust and ashes. And yet their memory is preserved, in spite of persecution and lives on in the memory of the people.

XXIII.

WHY ARE THE LOCUSTS VORACIOUS?

The Story of the Arrogant King and the Monks.

It is related that when the Emperor Por married his daughter he made a great banquet, as big as had never been done before, for he called all the kings and governors, and so many guests came together that one might have thought that they would eat up even Por's ears.

But Por the emperor knew what he had to do, and he prepared food for all. He opened casks of wine, which had been kept closed for a thousand years, and he spread tables in a field as large as a country, and he brought musicians who were so skilled that one would have liked to listen to them for ever.

Everything had he prepared, only one thing had he forgotten. He did not call the priests and the nuns. The priests he left out just because he wanted to insult them, and he did not think of having the marriage service performed in a Church.

"What do I want them for?" he said, "all this can be done without their blessing, and to have popas (priests) always about you in your house, by God, is not quite a lucky thing, for it is well known if you meet a popa in your way you are sure to have no luck, for you have met the devil."

The priests, seeing that Por had mocked at them, and the mothers of the Church (the nuns) got very angry. They began ringing the bells and praying, and they fasted three days on end, hoping that God would hearken to their prayer and would punish the Emperor Por in such signal manner as God alone in his wisdom could do.

And God, as it seems, hearkened to their prayer, for while the tables were laden with meat and drink, and all the guests had sat themselves down to eat and drink, suddenly the heavens grew dark, a mighty wind arose, and out of the sky came down a thick black cloud of winged things with large mouths, voracious and hungry.

They settled on the tables and devoured every bit of food that could be found, and drank every drop of wine. The guests turned sick at this horrible sight, and, falling ill, they all died there and then. From a wedding feast it became a huge burial, the fame of which spread throughout the lands. No one knew why this misfortune had befallen them, only Por understood what had happened, and before his death he said:

"Nothing can be done without the mercy and grace of God. And this has been my punishment."

These were the locusts (Pachytylus migratorius) which God sends upon men when they forget the true God.

The rôle assigned here to the official priests, the "popa" of the orthodox religion, is in perfect harmony with that sectarian teaching which could not find words strong and opprobrious enough against the "official" Church and its ministers. The belief is still alive in Rumania that to meet a "popa," as he is called, is an evil omen, and the people will often desist from some enterprise if a popa has met them. There are practices by which the evil consequences of such a meeting could be averted; but they belong to those of primitive society. This story seems also to have been originally a satire against these popas. They were the original locusts who descended upon the tables of the rich and mighty, but now the point has been blunted and the lesson deliberately turned round, making the locusts the means of punishment for ignoring the priests. The man who told this tale must have had a mischievous twinkle in his eye, not lost on his hearers, but evidently lost upon him who wrote it down afterwards.

The Emperor Por is none else than the Indian King Porus who plays so important a part in the legendary history of Alexander the Great. This is one of the most popular Rumanian chap-books--probably the oldest in Rumanian folk-lore. There are a number of traces of this legendary history in the Rumanian popular literature. We shall meet another reference to it in the history of the cricket, No. 65, and of the cuckoo, No. 91.

This story evidently belongs to the cycle of legends in which an emperor tries to invite God and his host to dine with him, boasting that he would be able to feed them. He decks tables along the sea shore and waits for God to come to the banquet. But a wind rises and blows everything into the sea. A sage explains to the emperor that thus far only one of the servants of God--the wind--has partaken of his banquet. (v. Gaster, Exempla of the Rabbis, No. 12.)

XXIV.

WHY DOES THE GRASSHOPPER RUN TO AND FRO?

The Story of Jesus and the Unkind Reaper.

Another large kind of locust or grasshopper is also known by the name of "little horse" or "mower." For the explanation of the last name the following legend is told:

Once upon a time when Jesus and St. Joseph hid themselves for fear of the heathen in some very high grass which reached to their waist, it is told that a giant came there to cut the grass, and he carried a huge scythe, and with each stroke he cut down a large swath. Christ and St. Joseph, seeing the work of that man and fearing lest they should be discovered by the heathen if all the grass were cut down, asked him not to cut any more. But when he heard that Christ begged him to stop, he just went on with his work more furiously, full of spite, for was not he also a heathen who wanted to catch him? When Christ saw this he prayed to God to put as many obstacles in the giant's way as possible, for it was still some time before the sun would set, and he would otherwise quickly finish the cutting of the whole field. God heard him, and he sent a heat so fierce that it dried up even the tongue in the man's mouth. The mower, however, did not care. He only cast off all his clothes and went on with his work in his shirt. When God saw that the giant would not stop he changed the weather and made it so bad that you would not have allowed a dog to leave the house. But the mower went on with his work undisturbed. The only thing which he did was to pick up the clothes which he had cast off and to put them on again, and he made swaths as wide as the high road.

When Christ saw the progress which he made he trembled like a reed. He feared lest the heathen would catch him. Angrily, he knelt down, and cursing the giant, he said: "Cursed shalt thou be, thou disobedient and callous mower, all thy life henceforth thou shalt be always only mowing and never gain any benefit from it. As long as the world stands thou shalt always be running to and fro among the reapers, who will cut thy legs as a punishment for not having listened to me." No sooner was this curse uttered, when the giant was turned into a small green insect with long legs, which to this very day is seen hopping between the blades of grass on meadows and fields, running in front of the scythes of cutters of grass. This insect is called the mower (Locusta viridissima).

XXV.

ANOTHER STORY OF THE GRASSHOPPER.

St. Mary and the Wicked Innkeeper.

There is another legend of the origin of the grasshopper.

When Christ was born in the stable, the animals which were there were starved to death by the owner. There was no one who would as much as put a handful of hay into the manger. The Holy Mother, full of pity for the poor animals, asked the master of the house to give them at least a forkful of hay. The master, however, shrugging his shoulders said that all that he had, was gone and he could not give her even as little as a handful. "If that be so, why did not you provide more hay last summer?" asked the Holy Mother.

"Why? just because I was too lazy to cut more."

"If that be so," replied the Holy Mother, angrily, "then thou shalt become a mower, and all thy life thou shalt not do anything else, but from early morning to late at night thou shalt cut grass and yet have no benefit therefrom."

No sooner had she uttered these words than the master was turned into the grasshopper called the "mower," and such has he remained to this very day.

XXVI.

WHY DOES THE NUN BEETLE COVER ITS FACE?

The Story of St. Peter and the Girl Messenger.

In the time of the Holy Apostles, there was great trouble among the heathen giants, as they did not know whom to elect as ruler. The heathen then came in large numbers to the Christians, asking for their vote, and came even to St. Peter, who was then the headman of the Apostles. St. Peter, realising the importance of this election, took counsel with his brothers the Apostles. They decided to call together all the Christians in an Assembly to decide which part they were to take. A good number came together. But as at that time the Christians were scattered far and wide, and lived a good way distant one from another, and also were afraid of the heathen, the greater number stayed at home.

For in such troublous times who would have liked to leave his wife and children alone at home? Moreover, at that time Christians were not permitted to meet, for when the heathen caught them speaking to one another, they poured oil upon them and burned them like torches. Still, when St. Peter had got a few counsellors together, they discussed what was best to be done. The one said one thing, the other another, as people do even to-day when talking in council, but if you think you are getting on any further, you are waiting in vain, for nothing comes out of it.

St. Peter, who was more learned than the rest, saw that no good was coming out of their deliberations, and as he was the headman, he got up from his seat and said, "If we are to give our people good and sound advice, we all know that as for battle, good and strong men are wanted, so we must also have clever men. Unfortunately, however, there are no such men in our midst. We also know that if the heathen see us going from house to house, and find out our intentions, it might go very ill with us. We must therefore find out other means, so that our enemies should not even suspect our action. I, as the oldest among you, have come to the conclusion that we must get some very clever women. We might then possibly win our case. Let us make a list of all such women and instruct them carefully. We can then send them to the houses of the Christians to advise them what to do."

"Excellent," replied the other learned men, and they called out all the clever women from the list which they had made, and by teaching them day and night, they fitted them for their work and sent them to the houses of the Christians. Before they left, however, they were told that they were neither to turn back and look at anything, nor were they to look straight into the eyes of strangers, for their eyes were bewitched by the devil, nor should they speak to strangers, who would pour poison into their souls. After receiving these instructions, they all covered their faces and left only holes for their eyes. Then they took food for the journey, taking care to fast regularly for two days and eating only on the third. One of them, called "Nun," going into a town where the people were dressed up more richly than in any other town, met a young man, tall as a reed, white as foam, with a crisp upturned moustache, a small well-proportioned mouth, and eyes glittering like those of a snake. He stood quite alone! The young man, cunning as the young men of our days are, no sooner set eyes on the young woman, when he began to tell her of all that is in the heavens and upon earth, and made her forget her errand and the instructions which she had received. So she unveiled her face, and began to talk in such a manner that no man would have stopped her from going on. In the end she told him even of the intentions of the Christians and of the teaching of St. Peter. As soon as he had heard all she had to tell him, the young man disappeared, for he was none else than the son of Satan. St. Peter, who knew all that had happened, for the angel of God had told him, started after the young woman in order that he might stop her from revealing to others the intentions of the Christians. He found her in a meadow playing with some children.

"Thy name is nun, thy name shall remain nun (Mantissa religiosa), but thou shalt not have any longer a human shape, as thou hast thrown away the veil, and has denied thy beautiful face."

When the nun beheld St. Peter she got frightened, and tried to pull the veil over her face, which was uncovered, but she could not do it, for God had changed her into a little green beetle which to this very day joins its front legs, and it looks as if it intended to cover its face with them.

This legend has been turned into a charm against a bad wife. Put the nun under her head at night, and say three nights consecutively the following charm:

"Faithless Nun, St. Peter had taught thee; St. Peter has sent thee to do good to the Christians, to give them good teaching; to the ignorant thou hast given instruction. But thy conduct was bad, For thou hast spoken to the enemies, And hast shown thy uncovered face; And God has punished thee. I now have also a wife, like unto a spark, with bad tongue and evil speech-- Evil in every way-- Bad, envious, cheating, Restless, Always in motion, with a heart full of sin. Thou, O faithless Nun, smitten by God, Condemned by men, Make my wife to become good. From bad and faithless, make her good and faithful. From cheating and envious, make her good and loving. Otherwise, woe unto her. Woe unto thy kind, For I will set upon it and utterly destroy it. I will fall upon it and annihilate it.

She will then repent of her evil ways. This charm is only to be used in the case when the wife is younger than the husband.

In the charm we have the "historical" or narrative element, in the legend we have the symbolical in the application which is assumed to run on parallel lines--the woman must also be faithful, obedient, chaste, must not look into other people's eyes nor talk to strangers--a grave danger for her soul. And finally the "threat" that unless the "nun" will do the bidding, she will be severely chastised, just like the demons in older conjurations, who are first cajoled and then threatened. It is thoroughly typical, and shows the depths of belief in the power of even the little insect which is, however, still seen as a "nun" in a human form well instructed and powerful, in spite of its actual "disguise." No real line of demarcation is drawn between the human being and the meanest creature. In popular belief and imagination they all live and move on the same plane.

There is another tale told about this insect, which seems to be another attempt to explain its name Nun.

XXVII.

WHY IS THE BEETLE CALLED THE NUN?

The Story of the Devil's Daughter in the Cloister.

It is said that the devil--may he go into the wild desert and remain there--had a very bad-tempered daughter. She was so bad that in the whole world there was none other like her to make a couple of them. When the devil saw that, devil though he was, he was yet no match for his daughter, he slyly got her into a convent and made a nun of her, in the hope that she might perchance repent and change for the better. But the daughter remained what she was; ill-tempered and bad. She kept making mischief without end. God, who could not tolerate a daughter of the devil in a convent, and seeing also that the daughter of the unclean was doing all kinds of mischief, changed her into an insect. The other sisters, seeing what had happened, called it Nun, and this has remained its name to our very days.

It is curious that this insect should bear the name "nun" in almost all European languages. I am not aware, however, of any legend except the Rumanian explaining the name.

XXVIII.

WHY IS THE WASP THE GIPSIES' BEE?

The Story of the Wasp, the Gipsies and the Rumanians.

In the beginning the wasp belonged to the Rumanians, and the bee to the Gipsies. When the former saw how useless, nay, dangerous, the wasps were, and how useful the bees, they cheated the Gipsies into changing with them.

Those of aforetime tell us that when God made the living creatures which move with the sun, he made the bee first. The Gipsy, impudent and greedy, as he has remained to this very day, stole the bee from the hand of God saying, "Give it to me, O Lord, that I may eat of its honey, I and my little ones. And of the wax--I will make candles to light them up for thee in the Church." God did not say anything, but kept silent and looked angrily at the Gipsy, for he was annoyed at the Gipsy's impudence. He made up his mind to punish him. He therefore at once made the big wasp, and, after he had made it, he gave it to the Rumanians, saying, "Take this, for the bee has been ordained for the Gipsy, and he has taken his share." The Rumanian took the wasp, and thanked God. Sometime afterwards the Gipsy met the Rumanian, and he asked him whether his bee had brought him much honey. The Rumanian, smart as ever, replied, "My bee has filled many barrels, for this bee carries the honey in bagfuls, as it was big and strong."

"Oh," cried the Gipsy, "I see that he has deceived me; my bee has not filled a cup with honey, and my duckies have not even rubbed their lips with honey. Let us exchange our bees, my little Rumanian."

"But what do you give in addition?"

"What shall I give you? By God, I have nothing. I will make an axe of my iron and give it to you."

"Well, then, let it be so. Bring here your hive and I will bring you mine."

"I will do so," and the Gipsy went with the Rumanian to the hut and gave him the hive. The Rumanian took it home, and when they reached the forest the Rumanian showed him a big tree, as thick as a barrel and high as the heavens, where the Rumanian had put before the wasps and where they had grown to a very large number.

"Here, you Gipsy, are my bees in this hollow tree. It is full of honey enough to satisfy your whole nation of Gipsies and some to remain over."

"Thank you. May God bless you," replied the Gipsy.

The Rumanian went home to look after the bees. The Gipsy gathered his whole nation together. They brought copper pans and pots and ladders, and came to the tree to eat of the honey to their fill. Arrived there, they leaned the ladder just against the hole by which the wasps went out and came in. Full of courage, as the Gipsy is by nature, he took a pot for the honey and climbed up the ladder. No sooner had he got there when a wasp thrust its sting into him. Another stung him on the nose, and another, and again another, and the Gipsy could not see out of his eyes because of the pain, and he began howling there on the top of the tree. He forgot the honey and everything, and cried, "Keep the ladder, keep the pot, keep me also, for we are falling," and down he came with a thud. How long he lay there with broken bones I do not know, but I do know that he had had enough of wasps' honey to last him to the end of his days. Since then the bees belong to the Rumanians, and the wasps are the Gipsies' bees.

XXVIII. A.

ANOTHER VERSION OF THE WASP LEGEND.

Another legend which omits the first part of the story does not mention anything about the Gipsy stealing the bee from God, but simply tells of a Gipsy who found a hive in the forest, and taking it home, went about bragging of his wonderful hive and of the honey. A clever Rumanian, finding a wasp nest, told the Gipsy that his bees were making gold, and induced him to change with him. Since then the bees belong to the Rumanians.

XXIX.

WHY DOES THE HORNET LIVE IN SMOKY PLACES?

The Story of God and the Odd Present.

When God had finished making the trees and grass, the sun and moon, and all that lives and moves, he sat down on his seat and ordered all the creatures to come to him that he might bless them. Every one came and brought a gift according to its best, and God blessed each one according to its nature. The sheep brought wool and milk, and the Lord blessed it, and bade it clothe the house of the Rumanians with its wool and feed the babies with its milk. The bee brought sweet honey and wax with the perfume of all the flowers. God blessed it, so that with the honey man's food should be sweetened, and the wax should light the Church at the Holy Office. Thus each creature got the blessing according to its ways. Now came the turn of the hornet, by nature lazy and accustomed to live by theft. What could she bring? and again, how could she come with empty hands before the throne of the Almighty? So, finding a piece of cardboard, she picked it up and brought it to God. The Lord understood the trick which the hornet wanted to play on him, and how lazy she was. He, therefore, cursed her that all her work should be as brittle as bits of cardboard, and she should live only by theft. Her habitation should be the chimney, and her nest should be broken by everybody. So has it remained to this very day. The nests look as if they had been made of cardboard, they hang down from the smoky chimneys of houses, as if they were to be smoked; she lives by theft and even upon dead bodies, and her nest is always broken up.

XXX.

WHY IS THE HORNET SO SPITEFUL?

The Story of the Children of Cain.

It is told that one of the descendants of Cain had many children, one worse than the other. When sent on an errand to bring one thing, out of spite they would bring another; they were of no good to anyone. Their mother, who was a wicked and stingy bird (eagle), did nothing else from morning to evening but curse and shout and peck at them. The youngest, who was the worst, finding his mother in a violent temper, started quarrelling with her so loudly that the noise could be heard at the other end of the country. They even went so far as to fight one another. The mother, who was a strong woman, got the best of her son at first, but the youngster, biting her in the throat, drank all her blood until she died. Before dying, however, the mother cursed him that none of his children should ever be prosperous, though they should be very numerous. They should live in the hollows of trees and feed on dead human bodies. They should become flies with poisonous stings, and their blood should change into poison. When he heard his mother's curse the youth ran into the forest, and the quicker he ran the more it appeared to him that he became smaller and lighter, until one morning he found himself changed into a hornet with a yellow body.

XXX. A.

HORNET CHARM.

The hornet is used for the following charm:

If people wish a dog to become savage, they take some hornets, and mixing them with the food, give it to the puppies to eat, and say the following words: "Just as the hornet is burning and unbearable, so shalt thou become hot and savage and intolerable, and thou shalt not tolerate any one else besides me and those of this household...."

The hornet's nest in the stubble indicates the strength of the winter and the depth of the snow, according as it is built high or low.

XXXI.

WHY HAS THE WOODPECKER SUCH A LONG BEAK AND WHY DOES IT PECK AT THE TREES?

The Story of God and the Inquisitive Woman.

Know that the woodpecker was originally not a bird but an old woman with a very long nose, which she put into everybody's pots and pans, sniffing about, eavesdropping, inquisitive and curious about everything whether it belonged to her or not, adding a little in her tale-bearing and taking off a bit from another tale, and so making mischief among her neighbours. When God saw her doings, he took a huge sack and filled it with midges, beetles, ants, and all kinds of insects, and, tying it tightly, gave it to the old woman, and said to her: "Now take this sack and carry it home, but beware of opening it, for if your curiosity makes you put your nose into it you will find more than you care for, and you will have trouble without end."

"Heaven forbid," replied the old hag, "that I should do such a thing; I am not going against the will of God. I shall be careful." So she took the sack on her back and started trotting home, but whilst she was carrying it her fingers were already twitching, and she could scarcely restrain herself, so no sooner did she find herself a short distance away than she sat down in a meadow and opened the sack. That was just what the insects wanted, for no sooner did she open it than they started scrambling out and scampered about the field, each one running his own way as fast as its little legs would carry it. Some hid themselves in the earth, others scrambled under the grass, others, again, went up the trees, and all ran away as fast as they could.

When the old woman saw what had happened, she got mightily frightened, and tried to gather the insects to pack them up again, and put them back into the sack. But the insects did not wait for her. They knew what to do, and a good number escaped into the field. Some she was able to catch, and these she packed into the sack, and tied it up. Then came the Voice of God, who asked her what she had done, and if that was the way she kept her promise.

"Where are the insects, beetles and midges, which I gave you to carry? From this moment you shall change into a bird and go about picking up all these insects until you get my sack full again, and only then can you become a human being again."

And so she changed into a woodpecker; the long beak is the long nose of the old woman, and she goes about hunting for these midges, beetles and ants in the hope of filling up the sack, when she would again resume her human shape. But to this very day she has not completed her task, and has remained the woodpecker.

XXXII.

WHY HAS THE PELICAN A BIG POUCH UNDER ITS BEAK?

The Story of God and the Disobedient Man.

The story of the woodpecker finds its closest parallel in the story of the pelican. It is difficult to say which of the two is the original, and which has been borrowed from the other. Certain legends have been adapted to more than one subject, in the same manner as ballads and tales and legends are often transferred from one hero or another. It is that elasticity of adaptation, which to a certain extent gives them the popularity which they enjoy. It is the very essence of the tale not to be too much localised, but on the contrary to be able to pass from one country to another, and to be fitted to the most diverse circumstances and persons, so long as the general framework has been retained. Popular imagination has no patience, and, in fact, no room, for rigid forms or for mathematical formulae. The material which it handles must be soft as wax to be moulded and kneaded, and thin like gossamer to be woven into many strands. Of course, the work of it can be seen in the variations in the theme and in its adaptation to the new purpose. Thus in the following story:

God and St. Peter were once upon a time walking upon the earth. There came a great swarm of creeping things like rats, snakes, scorpions and other vermin of this kind, as well as beetles, insects, ants and so on. They crowded round them, and with great impudence worried them, nay, even tried to bite them. St. Peter, who felt annoyed by the constant worry of the vermin, said at last to God:

"What is the good of keeping all these vermin upon the earth? see how impudent, how aggressive they are! They molest even us, and try to bite us, what then must the poor human beings be suffering through them?"

"Very well," said God, "if it is thy wish, and thou thinkest to save mankind of the attacks and molestations of these animals, I will try to do as thou desirest."

So he gathered them all together and put them in a huge sack, and tied it carefully by the mouth, and he said to St. Peter, "Let us go and throw it into the sea."

On the way they fell in with a man, who was going in the same direction. And God said to him, "Whither art thou going?"

"I am going to the sea for fishing."

"I will pay thee well," said God, "if you will take this sack and take it to the sea and empty it into it. But mind, you must not open it before you reach the shore; there, turning the sack upside down, loosen it gently and let everything fall straight into the water. Be careful and carry out my orders exactly, otherwise instead of obtaining a reward you will get yourself into serious trouble."

"For sure," replied the man, "I know how to carry out orders, you may rely on me, I will do exactly as I am bidden." Then, shouldering the sack, he went on his way to the sea. The sack was somewhat heavy and the way to the sea rather long. Tired by the weight of the sack, he sat down in the midst of his journey and rested. Then he asked himself:

"What can be in that sack? why should those old men want me to empty it into the sea? I will just loosen it a little and see." And so he