Part 4
But the Princess did not want to marry Tito, for she did not love him, and when she found that her father would not listen to her pleadings, but told her that very night she should wed Tito, the little Princess ran out of the palace and threw herself face down on the grass and wept.
When it came time for the wedding she was nowhere to be found, and though the palace and the gardens were searched, it was all in vain. The Princess had disappeared.
What had happened was that while the Princess was crying and bemoaning her sad lot she heard a sound, and when she looked up there was a lake she had never seen at the foot of the garden, and on it a beautiful boat with a sail of silk the color of gold.
There was no one in the boat, and the Princess, forgetting her sorrow in her wonderment at this strange sight, ran down to the water’s edge, where another surprise awaited her. For the boat came sailing straight to the place where she stood.
The Princess stepped in, and away went the boat out over the blue water, and in a few minutes she was in a country she had never seen before.
The little Princess was not frightened, for she felt sure nothing worse could befall her than if she stayed at the palace and had to marry Tito, and, while she was sorry to leave her father, she could not be happy with a man she did not love.
The lake led to a river, along the banks of which were high hills and beautiful woods, and the Princess was so lost in admiring the beauty of the scene she did not notice they were approaching a castle until her boat sailed under a white marble bridge, which soon brought her at the steps which led into the garden of the castle.
Here the strange boat stopped and the Princess knew she was expected to get out.
She walked up the steps into a garden filled with pink and white roses, with a fountain of pearl and gold in the center which threw a perfumed spray all about, which filled the air with fragrance.
There were no paths in the garden, but the grass was like green velvet and yellow birds flittered among the small green trees and sang sweet songs.
Through the roses and trees the Princess saw the entrance to the castle, and on the broad steps of marble and gold came a queer-looking creature followed by more servants than the Princess had ever seen in her father’s palace.
The Princess did not feel at all afraid, although the strange-looking creature had the body of a beautiful leopard, while his head was that of the handsomest youth the Princess had ever beheld.
His hair was dark and as he came nearer to her the Princess saw that his eyes were deep blue, the kindest eyes she had ever seen.
He held out one huge paw toward her and then withdrew it and said, “I fear you will not care to take the paw of such a beast as I am, but I can assure you I will not harm you, Princess.”
“I am not afraid,” said the Princess, putting out her hand, “but tell me how you know that I am a princess?”
After the leopard-man had taken her hand he led her up the steps, and as they walked along he told her that no one but a princess could have entered the boat. “It had sailed for many a year in quest of the princess who would be willing to sail away in it,” he told her, “and as only a princess can help me, no one but a princess could get into the enchanted boat.”
When the Princess and the leopard-man entered the castle he told her his strange story. He was a prince who had been changed by a witch into the shape she saw, and the only thing that could save him was a gold root which grew far up on a blue mountain-peak.
“But that root must be brought to me by a princess and no one else,” said the leopard-man, “so you see how impossible it is that I shall ever regain my own shape.”
“If you will tell me where this blue mountain-peak can be found,” said the Princess, “I will undertake the task, for I do not wish to return to my father’s palace, and I would like to help you.”
“The enchanted boat will take you if you really wish to try,” said the leopard-man, “but I fear it is a task you are far from fitted to undertake, for no one can go with you; that would break the spell.”
The Princess, however, told him she would try, and at once set out on the strange errand, the boat sailing along the river and then out into the open sea.
By and by the Princess saw on the side of a high mountain, the top of which was blue, something growing which shone like gold, and she knew it must be the golden root for which she was seeking.
The enchanted boat sailed close to the foot of the mountain and stopped, and the Princess knew she was to get out, but how was she to reach the golden root which grew far up on the mountain?
The Princess stepped out of the boat on the rocks and sat down to think what she could do, for to climb up the steep, smooth side of the mountain was out of the question; if only she could fly she thought she might reach it.
Just then she heard a swishing sound, and, looking up, she saw a big eagle coming toward her with a broken leg.
The bird fell at her feet, and, as so many strange things had already happened, the Princess did not feel afraid of the big creature, for she felt sure that in some way he would help her.
“Oh, you poor hurt bird!” she said, tearing off a piece of her dress to bind up its leg; then from a stream falling from the mountain she brought in the hollow of her hand water for him to drink.
At night the Princess took off her cloak and covered the eagle, while she huddled close to the mountain and behind a rock to keep the cold from herself.
In the morning she was surprised to find the eagle had flown away, but on the rocks was her cloak, and two feathers from the wings of the bird lay beside it.
The Princess put on her cloak and took up one of the feathers, and to her surprise the hand that held the feather flew up over her head.
She picked up the other feather with the other hand and up she was carried, her cloak spreading out like a pair of wings.
With the feathers she guided herself until she alighted on the top of the blue-peaked mountain.
She laid the feathers down and began to dig for the root which the Prince had said was the only thing that could save him.
When she had enough of the golden root she again took the feathers, one in each hand, and flew down to the water, where the enchanted boat, which had sailed away when she left it, now stood waiting.
The feathers from the eagle she put carefully on the rocks, but the bird was nowhere to be seen, and, knowing that it must have been a part of the magic plan to help her, the Princess sailed away, feeling sure the eagle was safe and his broken leg quite well.
When she reached the castle of the leopard-man he was on the steps to meet her and without waiting to enter the castle he took the golden root from her and tasted it.
The leopard body disappeared and there he stood before her, a tall, handsome youth whom any maiden, even a princess, would fall in love with.
The Princess told him her story and the Prince told her they would go at once to her father and he would ask for her hand, for he had already asked for her heart and found that it was his.
The enchanted boat took them back to the garden of the King, where they found that the Queen, when she knew that her son had lost the chance of becoming King when the Princess disappeared, had put the King in a dungeon under the palace and she and her son had become the rulers of the kingdom.
The Prince quickly undid all this mischief by setting the King free, and when he found out how treacherous his Queen really was he sent her, with her son, away from the palace and told them never to return or they would both be put in prison.
He was a kind-hearted King and gave them gold to care for them the rest of their days, and it did not take them long to leave the palace, you may be sure, for already the wedding feast was being made ready for the marriage of the Princess and her Prince.
The enchanted boat now was not needed, and that with the lake disappeared, but when the Princess set out with her husband to go to the castle she found that it was within her father’s kingdom that the Prince had lived.
At the end of the castle garden where the Prince and the Princess live is a long stone seat, and at one end grows a bush of golden flowers, the like of which no one ever saw before, and at the other is the figure of a big eagle made of gold and bronze, but only the Princess and her husband know what these things mean.
NICKO AND THE OGRE
Once upon a time there lived on the banks of a deep, wide river an ogre who ate all the fish in the river, never letting the people who lived in the town come near the river to fish.
And this was not all the ogre did. He would make such a noise when he slept that all the children were frightened so they could not sleep at night, and the people decided at last that something must be done.
One day a youth named Nicko said he would go to an old witch who lived in the forest and ask her what could be done.
So to this witch the youth went. “There is only one way to get rid of the ogre,” she told Nicko, “and that secret is known only to a mermaid, who comes up from the river every night and sings to the ogre.”
Of course the ogre would see Nicko if he went to the mermaid when she was singing, so he decided to have a suit made of green and silver that would make him look like a huge fish and dive into the river, hoping in that way to find the home of the mermaid and learn the secret she knew.
One night after the mermaid had finished her song to the ogre, Nicko slipped from behind a rock where he was hidden, dressed in his green-and-silver suit, and swam to the place he had seen the mermaid go under the water.
Down, down he went, and just before he reached the bottom of the river the mermaid turned around and saw him.
She had never seen such a beautiful big fish before and the silver glistened and shone so in the moonlight that the mermaid was filled with envy.
“Oh, beautiful fish, tell me where you got your shining coat! I must have a dress like it at once,” she said, swimming along beside Nicko.
“I will tell you, beautiful mermaid, willingly, and I will bring you a dress of wonderful brightness,” said Nicko, “if you will tell me how the people who live in the river town can get rid of the ogre you sing to every night.”
The mermaid no longer smiled when she heard this; her face looked sad and unhappy.
“That can never be done; for the way to be rid of the ogre is beyond my power, although I know the secret,” answered the mermaid; “but you cannot help me.”
“Well, if I cannot help you, at least tell me how it could be brought about that the river folk could be rid of their trouble.”
“A mortal must come to this river and live here,” said the mermaid. “And he must marry me. Now you see how impossible it is for any one to learn the rest of the secret, for who would marry a mermaid and live at the bottom of the river?”
Nicko had fallen in love with the pretty mermaid at first sight, and when he heard this he said: “Show me your home, pretty maid. Perhaps I can help you, even if I am only a fish.”
To the very bottom of the river the mermaid took Nicko, and when they stood on the white sand before her home of crystal Nicko said:
“Mermaid, I love you! Behold your mortal lover. Will you be my wife?”
As he spoke he threw off the green-and-silver costume he wore, and there stood the mortal who had come to woo her.
The pretty little mermaid blushed and hung her head. “I did not know; I could never have guessed you were a mortal,” she stammered.
“Of course you couldn’t,” said Nicko, almost forgetting why he was there, he was so very much in love with the pretty creature. “Now where shall I find your father?” he asked.
The little mermaid clapped her tiny hands, and from under the rock came many little silver-colored fish, swimming all around her.
“Run quickly and tell the dolphin to find Father Neptune,” said the mermaid.
Soon the water began to roll and tumble about, and Nicko saw swimming toward them two sea-horses drawing a chariot in which stood a man carrying in one hand a curious and big three-pronged fork.
“He is Father Neptune,” said the mermaid. “Ask him for me if you wish.”
“Well, young mortal, what do you wish here at the bottom of my river?” asked Father Neptune.
At first Nicko did not know what to say, for Father Neptune was very big and stern-looking; but when he saw the little mermaid swim up to him and lean her head against his shoulder he took courage and spoke.
“I wish to marry your daughter,” he said, “and live at the bottom of the river.”
Father Neptune began to smile. “The spell is broken for you, my dear,” he said to the little mermaid, “and I am glad. I would have helped you before this if I could, but it was not in my power.
“She is yours, mortal youth,” said Neptune. “I pronounce you man and wife. And now we will see what can be done to get rid of that awful ogre on the bank of the river. He has bothered me so much, I shall be glad to have him gone.”
“Now we are married,” said the mermaid to Nicko, “I can tell you I am not a mermaid at all, but a king’s daughter who was changed into a mermaid to sing for the ogre because my father did not invite the dreadful ogre to a feast at his palace one night.
“The ogre cast a spell over me which could be broken only when a mortal should come to the bottom of the river and ask me to marry him, which the ogre thought never could happen.
“Now it is my turn to have the ogre changed into another form, and if Father Neptune will consent I will ask the old forest witch to change him into a big rock in the middle of the river.”
“Very well, my dear,” said Father Neptune, “a big rock will be an addition to my river, and when I run in here to rest my sea-horses will have a place to play and my dolphins a place to sit.”
“Good-by, Father Neptune,” said the mermaid. “I shall no longer wear this form after to-night, for when I touch the land I shall be a mortal again.”
“I will take you to the shore,” said Father Neptune; “jump in, both of you.” It took only a minute for the sea-horses to dash to the top of the river, and another for them to bring the chariot to the bank of the river near the forest.
Nicko jumped out and lifted the little mermaid to the ground, which she no sooner touched than before him stood a beautiful young girl on two dainty feet.
When he looked around Father Neptune was gone and the Princess (for we must call her so now) said: “We must hurry to the witch and tell her before sunrise, or the ogre will have another day in which to bother the river-town people.”
When the old witch saw the Princess she began to laugh. “Ha-ha!” she said. “Now the ogre will be in my power. Leave him to me, my dear. I will change him into any shape you wish.”
The Princess told her she wished him changed into a huge rock to be placed in the middle of the river.
“Come along, my pretties; you shall see it done,” said the old witch, clapping her hands as she spoke.
Up from behind the cave jumped a big broomstick, and on it hopped the witch and the Princess and Nicko, and off they flew to the place where the ogre sat fishing by the river.
When they were near enough for the old witch to touch him with her crooked cane she leaned over and tapped him on the head and said:
“In the middle of the river, To dwell there forever, A rock you shall be So all folks may see.”
A peal of thunder that shook the woods around was heard, and then a loud splash.
When the mist of the splashing water cleared Nicko and the Princess saw a huge black rock in the middle of the river, and the next thing they knew they were flying through the air with the old witch again.
“Here is your home, Princess,” said the witch at last. “They will be waiting for you and your husband, for I sent word you had been rescued, and a feast is being made in honor of your marriage.”
Before Nicko or his bride could thank the witch she was far above their heads and flying away.
The King and the Queen were overjoyed to have their daughter again and gave Nicko such a welcome that he quite forgot his home by the river and never returned.
But this did not matter, as he was an orphan, but no one thought of him as being the cause of the ogre’s disappearance. The people in the river town knew the ogre had gone, and they cared not who brought it about.
Nicko and the Princess lived happily ever after, and one day became the King and Queen in the country where they lived.
THE GINGERBREAD ROCK
Once there lived near a forest a little boy named Hans and his sister, whose name was Lisbeth.
Their parents had died when they were tiny and their uncle had taken them because he thought they could do all the work and so save the money he would have to pay for a servant.
But this uncle was a miser and gave Hans and Lisbeth very little to eat, so very little that often they went to bed very hungry.
One night when they were more hungry than usual, for they had worked hard all day, Hans whispered from his cot in one corner of the room: “Lisbeth, let us get up and go into the woods. It is bright moonlight and we may be able to find some berries. I am so hungry I cannot go to sleep.”
So out of the house they went, making sure their uncle was sound asleep, and soon they were running along the path through the woods.
Suddenly Hans stopped and drew Lisbeth back of a tree. “Look!” he said, in a whisper, “there is smoke coming from the side of that great rock.”
Lisbeth looked and, sure enough, a tiny curling smoke was coming from a little opening in the rock.
Very cautiously the children crept up to the rock and Hans stood on tiptoe and sniffed at the smoke.
“It is a pipe,” he whispered into Lisbeth’s ear. “Some one is inside the rock, smoking.”
“No one could live inside a rock,” said Lisbeth, creeping closer and standing on a stone that she, too, might sniff at the curling smoke.
Lisbeth became curious when she discovered it was the smoke from a pipe. “You could boost me, Hans,” she said, “and I could peep in and see if some one is inside.”
Hans told her he did not think it was nice to peek, but Lisbeth told him it was very different from peeking into a house, and so Hans boosted her, for he was just as curious as his sister.
Lisbeth grasped the edge of the opening in the big rock with both her little hands, when, to the surprise of both children, it crumbled and Lisbeth lost her balance.
Over went both of them on the soft moss, and when they sat up Lisbeth held something in both her little hands.
“It’s cake!” she said, with wide open eyes. “No; it is gingerbread!” she corrected, as she tasted it.
And, sure enough, it was gingerbread; the rock, instead of being stone, was all gingerbread.
Hans and Lisbeth forgot the smoke and their curiosity in the joy of their discovery, and soon both of them were eating as fast as they could big pieces of the Gingerbread Rock.
Hans and Lisbeth were not greedy children. So when they had satisfied their hunger they ran off home without taking even a piece of the gingerbread with them to eat the next day.
They were soon in bed and asleep, and if each had not told to the other the same story the next morning they would have been sure they had dreamed it all.
The next night they were hungry, as usual, and when the moon was well up in the sky out they crept again and ran into the woods.
But this time there was no curling smoke to guide them, and they tried several rocks before they found the gingerbread. For, strange to say, the place they had broken away did not show at all and there were so many rocks the children could not find it.
But at last Hans cried out with joy, “Here it is, Lisbeth!” and held up a big piece of gingerbread he had broken off.
Lisbeth, in her hurry to get a piece, broke off much more than she intended, and, to the surprise of both children, a big opening was made, large enough for them to step through.
“Perhaps we may find out where the smoke came from,” said Lisbeth, suddenly remembering the smoke they had seen the night before.
Eating as they went, both of them stepped inside the rock and walked into a big room where, by the table, sat an old man asleep.
His glasses had tumbled off his nose and the pipe he had been smoking was on the floor beside him, where it had tumbled. His lamp had gone out and his paper had slipped from his hand.
Lisbeth and Hans looked at him and then at the gingerbread they held. “It is his house,” said Hans.
“And we are eating it up! What shall we do?” asked Lisbeth, looking very much frightened.
“Better wake him up and tell him,” said Hans, “and perhaps he will let us bake some more and mend the place we have broken.”
“I’ll pick up his paper and pipe and brush up the ashes,” said tidy little Lisbeth, “and you light his lamp, and perhaps he will forgive us when we tell him we did not know it was his house we were eating.”
But instead of being cross when he awoke, the old man smiled at them and asked, “Did you eat all you wanted of the gingerbread?”
Hans told him they were very sorry and that they did not know any one lived inside when they ate the gingerbread.
“We will bake you some more and patch the place we made,” said Lisbeth.
“Right through that door you will find the kitchen,” said the old man. “Run along, if you like, and bake it.”
And such a kitchen as Hans and Lisbeth found, for Hans went along, you may be sure, to fix the fire for his sister!
The shelves and cupboards were filled with flour and butter and eggs and milk and cream and meat and pies, cookies, puddings, but no gingerbread.
“We will get breakfast first for the man,” said Lisbeth, “for I am sure he must be hungry and it is growing light. Look out the window.”
To Hans’s surprise there was a window. Then he saw a door, and when he looked out he found they were in a pretty white house with green blinds and not a rock, as he had supposed.
Hans and Lisbeth became so interested in cooking they quite forgot their own home or the unkind uncle who almost starved them, and when the breakfast was ready they put it on the table beside the old man.
“I thought you would like your breakfast,” explained Lisbeth, “and now we will make the gingerbread and repair your house.”
“After breakfast you may, if you like,” said the old man, “but first both of you must eat with me.”
My, how Hans and Lisbeth did eat, for while Lisbeth had cooked only ham and eggs enough for the old man’s breakfast, there seemed to be quite enough for them all.
And while they are eating we will see what the miser uncle was doing, for he had called the children at break of day and they were not to be found.
It happened that the ground was damp and the uncle saw the prints of their feet from the door to the road and along the road to the path in the woods, and then the soft leaves and moss did not show where they went.
Thinking they had run away and gone into the woods, their uncle hurried along, calling their names at the top of his voice.
As he came near the Gingerbread Rock the children heard him and began to tremble. “It is uncle,” said Hans. “He will be very angry because we have not done our work.”
“Sit still,” said the old man as the children started to leave the table, and, taking his pipe, the old man sat down under a little opening like a tiny window and began to smoke.
Soon the children could hear their uncle climbing up outside, and they knew he had seen the smoke just as they had the night before, and was trying to look in.
Then they heard him tumble just as Lisbeth had when the Gingerbread Rock broke off in her hands, and they knew he had discovered it was good to eat, for all was still for a few minutes.