Part 2

Isaac's share was laid down in the forepart of the boat; and he himself took down the fish from the stands; yet he could not understand how it was that the stands were continually filled with fresh fish, no matter how many he took away, and when he sailed away they were still as full as ever. When he reached Bergen, he sold his fish, and got so much money for them that he was able to buy a new schooner, completely fitted out, and with a cargo to boot, as the man of Udröst had advised him. Late in the evening, when he was about to sail for home, the man came aboard and told him never to forget those who survived his neighbor, for his neighbor himself had died; and then he wished Isaac all possible success and good fortune for his schooner, in advance. "All is well, and all stands firm that towers in the air," said he, and what he meant was that there was one aboard whom none could see, but who would support the mast on his back, if need be.

Since that time fortune was Isaac's friend. And well he knew why this was so, and never forgot to prepare something good for whoever held the winter watch, when the schooner was drawn up on land in the fall. And every Christmas night there was the glow and shimmer of light, the sound of fiddles and music, of laughter and merriment, and of dancing on the deserted schooner.

NOTE

"The Island of Udröst" (Asbjörnsen, _Huldreeventyr_, Part I, p. 259, from Nordland, narrator not specified) is a legendary paradise, which appears at the moment of extremest peril to the Norsemen helplessly shipwrecked in the stormy sea. The Norsemen, whose fields near the boisterous waves yield but a niggardly return, cannot say too much regarding its lavish fruitfulness and its abiding peace. Udröst is almost an Isle of the Blest, an Avalon, to the fisherfolk whose lives are passed in want and constant danger.

III

THE THREE LEMONS

Once upon a time there were three brothers who had lost their parents, and since the latter had left their sons nothing upon which to live, they had to wander out into the world, and seek their fortune. The two older brothers prepared for the journey as well as they were able; but the youngest, whom they called "Mike by the Stove," because he was always sitting behind the stove whittling, they did not want to take with them. So they set out at early dawn; yet for all their hurrying Mike by the Stove reached the king's court as soon as they did. When they got there, they asked to be taken into the king's service. Well, said the king, he really had no work for them to do; but since they were so poor, he would see that they were kept busy; there was always something or other to do in such a big establishment: they could drive nails into the wall, and when they were through, they could pull them out again. And when that was done, they could carry wood and water into the kitchen. Mike by the Stove was quickest at driving his nails into the wall, and pulling them out again, and he had been quick, too, about carrying his wood and water. Therefore his brothers grew jealous, and said he had declared he could obtain the most beautiful princess in twelve kingdoms for the king--for the king's wife had died and he was a widower. When the king heard this, he told Mike by the Stove he had better do as he had said, else he would have him brought to the block, and his head chopped off.

Mike by the Stove replied that he had neither said nor thought anything of the kind; but that seeing the king was so severe, he would try it. So he took a knapsack full of food and set out. But he had only pushed a little way into the wood before he grew hungry, and thought he would sample the provisions they had given him at the king's castle. When he had sat down in all peace and comfort under a pine-tree by the side of the road, an old woman came limping along, and asked him what he had in his knapsack. "Meat and bacon, granny," said the youth. "If you are hungry, come and share with me!" She thanked him, satisfied her hunger, and then telling him she would do him a favor in turn, limped off into the wood. When Mike by the Stove had eaten his fill, he slung his knapsack across his shoulder once more, and went his way; but he had only gone a short distance before he found a whistle. That would be fine, thought he, to have a whistle, and be able to whistle himself a tune while he traveled, and before long he really succeeded in making it sound. That very moment the wood was alive with dwarfs, all of them asking with one voice: "What are my lord's commands? What are my lord's commands?" Mike by the Stove said he did not know he was their lord; but if he had any command to give, he would ask them to bring him the fairest princess in twelve kingdoms. That would be easy enough, said the dwarfs; they knew exactly who she was, and they could show him the way; then he himself could go and fetch her, since the dwarfs were powerless to touch her. They showed him the way, and he reached his goal quickly and without trouble, for no one interfered with him. It was a troll's castle, and in it were three beautiful princesses; but when Mike by the Stove stepped in, they acted as though they had lost their wits, ran around like frightened lambs, and finally turned into three lemons that lay on the window-ledge. Mike by the Stove was in despair, and very unhappy because he did not know what to do. But after he had reflected a while, he took the three lemons, and put them in his pocket; because, thought he, he might be glad he had done so should he grow thirsty during his journey, for he had heard that lemons were sour.

After he had traveled a way, he grew very warm and thirsty. There was no water to be found, and he did not know how he was to refresh himself. Then the lemons occurred to him, and he took one and bit into it. But in it sat a princess, visible up to her arms, and cried: "Water, water!" If she could not have some water, said she, she must die. The youth ran about everywhere like mad, looking for water; but there was no water there, and none to be found, and when he returned she was dead.

After he had gone on again a while, he grew still more thirsty, and since he found nothing with which to refresh himself, he took another lemon and bit into it. And another princess looked out, up to her shoulders, and she was even more beautiful than the first. She cried for water, and said that if she could not have some water she must die on the spot. Mike by the Stove ran about and looked under stones and moss; but he found no water, so this princess also died.

Mike by the Stove thought that things were going from bad to worse, and this was the truth, since the further he went the warmer it grew. The part of the country in which he was traveling was so parched and dried that not a drop of water was to be found, and he was half-dead with thirst. For a long time he hesitated before biting into the last lemon; but at last there was nothing else left to do. When he had bitten into it, a princess looked out: she was the most beautiful in twelve kingdoms, and she cried that if she could have no water, she must die on the spot. Mike by the Stove ran about and looked for water, and this time he met the king's miller, who showed him the way to the mill-pond. When he had come with her to the mill-pond, and had given her water, she came completely out of the lemon. But she had nothing to wear, and Mike by the Stove had to give her his smock. She put it on, and hid in a tree; while he was to go to the castle and bring her clothes, and tell the king he had found her, and how it had all happened.

Meanwhile the cook had come down to the pond to fetch water. When she saw the lovely face that was reflected in the pond, she thought it was her own, and was so pleased that she began to dance and jump around, because she had grown so beautiful.

"Let the devil fetch the water, I'm far too handsome to bother with it!" said she, and threw away the water-pail. And then she suddenly noticed that the face in the water was that of the princess who sat in the tree. This made her so angry that she pulled her down from the tree, and threw her into the pond. Then she herself put on Mike by the Stove's smock, and climbed into the tree. When the king arrived, and saw the swart, homely kitchen-maid, he grew red and white in turn; but when he heard the people say she was the greatest beauty in twelve kingdoms, he had to believe, willy-nilly, that there was something in it, and he did not want to be unjust to Mike by the Stove, who had taken so much trouble to find her. She might grow more beautiful in time, thought he, if she were adorned with jewels, and dressed in fine clothes, and so he took her home with him. Then they sent for wig-makers and seamstresses, and she was adorned and dressed like a princess; but for all their washing and bedizening, she remained swart and homely. After a while, when the kitchen-maid had to go to the pond to fetch water, she caught a great silver fish in her pail. She carried it up and showed it to the king, who thought it was a beauty; but the homely princess declared it to be the work of witches, and that they were to burn it, for she had noticed at once what it was. So the following morning the fish was burned, and they found a lump of silver in the ashes. Then the cook went up and told the king, and he thought it very strange; but the princess said it was witchcraft pure and simple, and that they were to bury the silver under the manure-pile. The king did not want to, but she gave him no peace until he consented, and finally said they were to do so. But on the following day a beautiful linden-tree stood where they had buried the lump of silver, and the leaves of the linden-tree glistened like silver, too. When they told the king he thought it remarkable; but the princess said it was no more nor less than witchcraft, and that the linden-tree must be cut down. This the king did not wish done at all; but the princess tormented him so that finally he yielded in this as well. When the maids went out and brought wood for the fire from the linden-tree, it was pure silver. "We need not tell the king and the princess anything about it," said one of them, "for they would only burn it up and melt it down. Let us keep it in the wardrobe instead. It might be very useful to us some day, if some one comes along, and we want to marry." They were all of the same mind, but when they had carried the wood a while, it grew terribly heavy. And when they looked to see why this was, the sticks of wood had turned into a little child, and before long she had become the most beautiful princess imaginable. The maids saw that there was some hocus-pocus about it, gave her clothes, ran off to fetch the youth who had been sent to find the most beautiful princess in twelve kingdoms, and told him their story. And when Mike by the Stove arrived, the princess explained to him how everything had happened, that the cook had thrown her into the pond, and that she had been the silver fish, the lump of silver, and the linden-tree, and the sticks of wood, and that she was the true princess. It was hard to get at the king, for the swart, homely cook was with him early and late; but at last they decided to tell him that a declaration of war had come from a neighboring monarch, and so they got him out. When he saw the beautiful princess, he fell so deeply in love with her that he wanted to marry her out of hand, and when he heard how badly the swart, homely cook had treated her, the latter was promptly punished. Then they held a wedding that was heard of and talked about in twelve kingdoms.

NOTE

The story of "The Three Lemons" is not a native Scandinavian growth, but of foreign extraction (Asbjörnsen, _Norske Folkeeventyr, Ny Samling_, Christiania, 1871, p. 22, No. 66), and is a tale very popular in the Orient. Yet Asbjörnsen heard it from a plain woman in Christiania, which would prove that it had become naturalized in the North.

IV

THE NEIGHBOR UNDERGROUND

Once upon a time there was a peasant who lived in Telemarken, and had a big farm; yet he had nothing but bad luck with his cattle, and at last lost his house and holding. He had scarcely anything left, and with the little he had, he bought a bit of land that lay off to one side, far away from the city, in the wildwood and the wilderness. One day, as he was passing through his farm-yard, he met a man.

"Good-day, neighbor!" said the man.

"Good-day," said the peasant, "I thought I was all alone here. Are you a neighbor of mine?"

"You can see my homestead over yonder," said the man. "It is not far from your own." And there lay a farm-holding such as he had never before seen, handsome and prosperous, and in fine condition. Then he knew very well that this must be one of the underground people; yet he had no fear, but invited his neighbor in to drink a glass with him, and the neighbor seemed to enjoy it.

"Listen," said the neighbor, "there is one thing you must do for me as a favor."

"First let me know what it is," said the peasant.

"You must shift your cow-stable, because it is in my way," was the answer he gave the peasant.

"No, I'll not do that," said the peasant. "I put it up only this summer, and the winter is coming on. What am I to do with my cattle then?"

"Well, do as you choose; but if you do not tear it down, you will live to regret it," said his neighbor. And with that he went his way.

The peasant was surprised at this, and did not know what to do. It seemed quite foolish to him to start in to tear down his stable when the long winter night was approaching, and besides, he could not count on help.

One day as he was standing in his stable, he sank through the ground. Down below, in the place to which he had come, everything was unspeakably handsome. There was nothing which was not of gold or of silver. Then the man who had called himself his neighbor came along, and bade him sit down. After a time food was brought in on a silver platter, and mead in a silver jug, and the neighbor invited him to draw up to the table and eat. The peasant did not dare refuse, and sat down at the table; but just as he was about to dip his spoon into the dish, something fell down into his food from above, so that he lost his appetite. "Yes, yes," said the man, "now you can see why we don't like your stable. We can never eat in peace, for as soon as we sit down to a meal, dirt and straw fall down, and no matter how hungry we may be, we lose our appetites and cannot eat. But if you will do me the favor to set up your stable elsewhere, you shall never go short of pasture nor good crops, no matter how old you may grow to be. But if you won't, you shall know naught but lean years all your life long."

When the peasant heard that, he went right to work pulling down his stable, to put it up again in another place. Yet he could not have worked alone, for at night, when all slept, the building of the new stable went forward just as it did by day, and well he knew his neighbor was helping him.

Nor did he regret it later, for he had enough of feed and corn, and his cattle waxed fat. Once there was a year of scarcity, and feed was so short that he was thinking of selling or slaughtering half his herd. But one morning, when the milk-maid went into the stable, the dog was gone, and with him all the cows and the calves. She began to cry and told the peasant. But he thought to himself, that it was probably his neighbor's doings, who had taken the cattle to pasture. And sure enough, so it was; for toward spring, when the woods grew green, he saw the dog come along, barking and leaping, by the edge of the forest, and after him followed all the cows and calves, and the whole herd was so fat it was a pleasure to look at it.

NOTE

"The Neighbor Underground" (Idem, p. 149, from Halland, told Asbjörnsen by a Hallander whom he met at Björnsjo, fishing) will not surprise the reader who knows the Danish tale of the "Ale of the Trolls." Now and again the underground folk and trolls show themselves to be kind and grateful beings, when their wishes are granted, and when they are not annoyed by obtrusive curiosity.

V

THE SECRET CHURCH

Once the schoolmaster of Etnedal was staying in the mountains to fish. He was very fond of reading, and so he always carried one book or another along with him, with which he could lie down, and which he read on holidays, or when the weather forced him to stay in the little fishing-hut. One Sunday morning, as he was lying there reading, it seemed as though he could hear church bells; sometimes they sounded faintly, as though from a great distance; at other times the sound was clear, as though carried by the wind. He listened long and with surprise; and did not trust his ears--for he knew that it was impossible to hear the bells of the parish church so far out among the hills--yet suddenly they sounded quite clearly on his ear. So he laid aside his book, stood up and went out. The sun was shining, the weather was fine, and one group of churchgoers after another passed him in their Sunday clothes, their hymn-books in their hands. A little further on in the forest, where he had never before seen anything but trees and brush, stood an old wooden church. After a time the priest came by, and he was so old and decrepit that his wife and daughter led him. And when they came to the spot where the schoolmaster was standing, they stopped and invited him to come to church and hear mass. The schoolmaster thought for a moment; but since it occurred to him that it might be amusing to see how these people worshiped God, he said he would go along, if he did not thereby suffer harm. No, no harm should come to him, said they, but rather a blessing. In the church all went forward in a quiet and orderly manner, there were neither dogs nor crying children to disturb the service, and the singing was good--but he could not make out the words. When the priest had been led to the pulpit he delivered what seemed to the listening schoolmaster a really fine and edifying sermon--but one, it appeared to him, of quite a peculiar trend of thought, which he was not always able to follow. Nor did the "Our Father in heaven ..." sound just right, and the "Deliver us from evil ..." he did not hear at all. Nor was the name of Jesus uttered; and at the close no blessing was spoken.

When mass had been said, the schoolmaster was invited to the parsonage. He gave the same answer he had already returned, that he would be glad to go if he suffered no harm thereby. And as before, they assured him he would not lose; but rather gain thereby. So he went with them to the parsonage, just such an attractive and well-built parsonage like most in the neighborhood. It had a garden with flowers and apple-trees, with a neat lattice fence around it. They invited him to dinner, and the dinner was well cooked and carefully prepared. As before, he said that he would gladly accept their invitation, if he came to no harm thereby, and was given the same reply. So he ate with them, and said later that he had noticed no difference between this food and the Christian dinner he had received when, once or twice, he had been asked to dinner by the priest of the village church. When he had drunk his coffee, the wife and daughter drew him aside into another room, and the wife complained that her husband had grown so old and decrepit that he could not keep up much longer. Then she began to say that the schoolmaster was such a strong and able man, and finally, that she and her daughter would like to have him for priest, and whether he would not stay and succeed the old father. The schoolmaster objected that he was no scholar. But they insisted that he had more learning than was needed in their case, for they never had any visits from the bishop, nor did the dean ever hold a chapter, for of all such things they knew nothing. When the schoolmaster heard that, he said that even though he had the necessary scholarship, he doubted very much that he had the right vocation, and since this was a most important matter for him and for them, it would be unwise to act too hurriedly, so he would ask for a year to think it over. When he had said that, he found himself standing by a pond in the wood, and could see neither church nor parsonage. So he thought the matter was at an end. But a year later, just as the term he had set was up, he was working on a house, for during the school vacation he busied himself either with fishing or carpentering. He was just straddling a wall when he saw the pastor's daughter, the one whom he had seen in the mountains, coming straight toward him. She asked him if he had thought over the matter. "Yes," said he, "I have thought it over, but I cannot; since I cannot answer for it before God and my own conscience." That very moment the pastor's daughter from underground vanished; but immediately after he cut himself in the knee with the ax in such wise that he remained a cripple for life.

NOTE

"The Secret Church" (Asbjörnsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, 217, from Valders, told by a pastor), impresses one with its weirdness, in contrast to the preceding tale of friendly neighborly understanding with the underground folk. In Norway stories are still told of these churches in the wilderness, and of the chiming of their bells, which are supposed to be of evil omen to those who hear them. The idea of the church of ice, in Ibsen's "Brand," may have its root in such folk-tale.

VI

THE COMRADE

Once upon a time there was a peasant boy, who dreamed that he would get a princess, from far, far away, and that she was as white as milk, and as red as blood, and so rich that her riches had no end. When he woke, it seemed to him as though she were still standing before him, and she was so beautiful and winning that he could not go on living without her. So he sold all that he had, and went forth to look for her. He wandered far, and at last, in the winter-time, came into a land where the roads all ran in straight lines, and made no turns. After he had wandered straight ahead for full three months, he came to a city. And there a great block of ice lay before the church door, and in the middle of it was a corpse, and the whole congregation spat at it as the people passed by. This surprised the youth, and when the pastor came out of the church, he asked him what it meant. "He was a great evil-doer," replied the pastor, "who has been executed because of his misdeeds, and has been exposed here in shame and derision." "But what did he do?" asked the youth.

"During his mortal life he was a wine-dealer," answered the pastor, "and he watered the wine he sold."

This did not strike the youth as being such a terrible crime. "Even if he had to pay for it with his life," said he, "one might now grant him a Christian burial, and let him rest in peace." But the pastor said that this could not be done at all; for people would be needed to break him out of the ice; and money would be needed to buy a grave for him from the church; and the gravedigger would want to be paid for his trouble; and the sexton for tolling the bells; and the cantor for singing; and the pastor himself for the funeral sermon.

"Do you think there is any one who would pay all that money for such an arrant sinner's sake?" inquired the pastor.

"Yes," said the youth. If he could manage to have him buried, he would be willing to pay for the wake out of his own slender purse.

At first the pastor would hear nothing of it; but when the youth returned with two men, and asked him in their presence whether he refused the dead man Christian burial, he ventured no further objections.