University of Virginia Library

HUNGARIAN-SLOVENISH STORIES.

THE Slovenes or Slovaks of North Hungary speak a
great number of dialects, their literary language being,
however, the Bohemian. They seem to be the débris of a
much larger nation or assemblage of nations, which was forced
out of the plains of Pannonia into the mountains by the invasion
of the Magyar or Hungarian horsemen, who, according
to the Russian chronicler Nestor, marched past Kief in
a.d. 898, on their way to establish themselves in their present
abode.

Their stories are not very dissimilar to the Bohemian
tales, although they do not resemble them so closely as the
Moravian stories do. No. 10 is one of the tales that especially
attracted my attention, and caused me to entertain the
idea of translating a considerable selection out of the
hundred given by Erben. No. 11 contains incidents which
occur again in the White Russian story (No. 22), and in
the great Russian tale of `Ivan Popyalof,' given by Ralston,
though in other respects the stories are very different. No. 22
is a superior variant of the German `Rumpelstilskin' given
by Grimm, and No. 13 is a specimen of an entirely different
kind of story, illustrating `The biter bitten.'

X.—THE THREE LEMONS.

There was once upon a time an old king who had an only
son. This son he one day summoned before him, and
spoke to him thus: `My son, you see that my head has
become white; ere long I shall close my eyes, and I do not
yet know in what condition I shall leave you. Take a wife,
my son! Let me bless you in good time, before I close my
eyes.' The son made no reply, but became lost in thought;
he would gladly with all his heart have fulfilled his father's
wish, but there was no damsel in whom his heart could take
delight.

Once upon a time, when he was sitting in the garden, and
just considering what to do, all of a sudden an old woman
appeared before him—where she came, there she came.
`Go to the glass hill, pluck the three lemons, and you will
have a wife in whom your heart will take delight,' said she,
and as she had appeared so she disappeared. Like a bright
flash did these words dart through the prince's soul. At
that moment he determined, come what might, to seek the
glass hill and pluck the three lemons. He made known his
determination to his father, and his father gave him for the
journey a horse, arms and armour, and his fatherly blessing.

Through forest-covered mountains, through desert plains,
went our prince on his pilgrimage, for a very, very great
distance; but there was nothing to be seen, nothing to be
heard of the glass hill and the three lemons. Once, quite
wearied out with his long journey, he threw himself down
under the cool shade of a broad lime-tree. As he threw
himself down, his father's sword, which he wore at his side,
clanged against the ground, and a dozen ravens began
croaking at the top of the tree. Frightened by the clang of
the sword, they rose on their wings, and flew into the air
above the lofty tree. `Hem! till now I haven't seen a

living creature for a long while,' said the prince to himself,
springing from the ground. `I will go in the direction in
which the ravens have flown; maybe some hope will disclose
itself to me.'

He went on—he went on anew for three whole days and
three nights, till at last a lofty castle displayed itself to him
at a distance. `Praise be to God! I shall now at any
rate come to human beings,' cried he, and proceeded
further.

The castle was of pure lead; round it flew the twelve
ravens, and in front of it stood an old woman—it was
Jezibaba[2] —leaning on a long leaden staff. `Ah, my son!
whither have you come? Here there is neither bird nor
insect to be seen, much less a human being,' said Jezibaba
to the prince. `Flee, if life is dear to you; for, if my son
comes, he will devour you.' `Ah! not so, old mother, not
so!' entreated the prince. `I have come to you for counsel
as to whether you cannot let me have some information
about the glass hill and the three lemons.' `I have never
heard of the glass hill; but stay! when my son comes
home, maybe he will be able to let you have the information.
But I will now conceal you somewhat; you will hide yourself
under the besom, and wait there concealed till I call
you.'

The mountains echoed, the castle quaked, and Jezibaba
whispered to the prince that her son was coming. `Foh!
foh! there is a smell of human flesh; I am going to eat
it!' shouted Jezibaba's son, while still in the doorway, and
thumped on the ground with a huge leaden club, so that the
whole castle quaked. `Ah, not so, my son, not so!' said
Jezibaba, soothing him. `There has come a handsome
youth who wants to consult you about something.' `Well,
if he wants to consult me, let him come here.' `Yes,

indeed, my son, he shall come, but only on condition that
you promise to do nothing to him.' `Well, I'll do nothing
to him, only let him come.'

The prince was trembling like an aspen under the besom,
for he saw before him through the twigs an ogre, up to
whose knees he didn't reach. Happily his life was safeguarded,
when Jezibaba bade him come out from under the
besom. `Well, you beetle, why are you afraid?' shouted
the giant. `Whence are you? What do you want?'
`What do I want?' replied the prince. `I've long been
wandering in these mountains, and can't find that which I
am seeking. Now I've come to ask you whether you can't
give me information about the glass hill and the three
lemons.' Jezibaba's son wrinkled his brow, but, after a
while, said in a somewhat gentler voice: `There's nothing
to be seen here of the glass hill; but go to my brother in
the silver castle, maybe he'll be able to tell you something.
But stay, I won't let you go away hungry. Mother, here
with the dumplings!' Old Jezibaba set a large dish upon
the table, and her gigantic son sat down to it. `Come and
eat!' shouted he to the prince. The prince took the first
dumpling and began to eat, but two of his teeth broke, for
they were dumplings of lead. `Well, why don't you eat?
maybe you don't like them?' inquired Jezibaba's son.
`Yes, they are good; but I don't want any just now.'
`Well, if you don't want any just now, pocket some, and go
your way.' The good prince—would he, nould he—was
obliged to put some of the leaden dumplings into his
pocket. He then took leave and proceeded further.

On he went and on he went for three whole days and three
nights, and the further he went, the deeper he wandered into a
thickly wooded and gloomy range of mountains. Before him it
was desolate, behind him it was desolate; there wasn't a single
living creature to be seen. All wearied from his long journey,

he threw himself on the ground. The clang of his silver-mounted
sword spread far and wide. Above him four and
twenty ravens, frightened by the clash of his sword, began to
croak, and, rising on their wings, flew into the air. `A good
sign!' cried the prince. `I will go in the direction in which
the birds have flown.'

And on he went in that direction, on he went as fast as
his feet could carry him, till all at once a lofty castle displayed
itself to him! He was still far from the castle, and
already its walls were glistening in his eyes, for the castle
was of pure silver. In front of the castle stood an old
woman bent with age, leaning on a long silver staff, and this
was Jezibaba. `Ah, my son! How is it that you have
come here? Here there is neither bird nor insect, much
less a human being!' cried Jezibaba to the prince; `if life is
dear to you, flee away, for if my son comes, he will devour
you!' `Nay, old mother, he will hardly eat me. I bring
him a greeting from his brother in the leaden castle.'
`Well, if you bring a greeting from the leaden castle, then
come into the parlour, my son, and tell me what you are
seeking.' `What I am seeking, old mother? For ever so
long a time I've been seeking the glass hill and the three
lemons, and cannot find them; now I've come to inquire
whether you can't give me information about them.' `I
know nothing about the glass hill; but stay! when my son
comes, maybe he will be able to give you the information.
Hide yourself under the bed, and don't make yourself known
unless I call you.'

The mountains echoed with a mighty voice, the castle
quaked, and the prince knew that Jezibaba's son was coming
home. `Foh! foh! there's a smell of human flesh; I'm
going to eat it!' roared a horrible ogre already in the doorway,
and thumped upon the ground with a silver club, so
that the whole castle quaked. `Ah! not so, my son, not

so; but a handsome youth has come and has brought you a
greeting from your brother in the leaden castle.' `Well, if
he's been at my brother's, and if he has done nothing to him,
let him have no fear of me either; let him come out.' The
prince sprang out from under the bed, and went up to him,
looking beside him as if he had placed himself under a very
tall pine. `Well, beetle, have you been at my brother's?'
`Indeed, I have; and here I've still the dumplings, which
he gave me for the journey.' `Well, I believe you; now
tell me what it is you want.' `What I want? I am come
to ask you whether you can't give me information about the
glass hill or the three lemons.' `Hem! I've heard formerly
about it, but I don't know how to direct you. Meanwhile,
do you know what? Go to my brother in the golden castle,
he will direct you. But stay, I won't let you go away
hungry. Mother, here with the dumplings!' Jezibaba
brought the dumplings on a large silver dish, and set them on
the table. `Eat!' shouted her son. The prince, seeing
that they were silver dumplings, said that he didn't want to
eat just then, but would take some for his journey, if he
would give him them. `Take as many as you like, and
greet my brother and aunt.' The prince took the dumplings,
thanked him courteously, and proceeded further.

Three days had already passed since he quitted the silver
castle, wandering continuously through densely wooded
mountains, not knowing which way to go, whether to the
right hand or to the left. All wearied out, he threw himself
down under a wide-spreading beech, to take a little breath.
His silver-mounted sword clanged on the ground, and the
sound spread far and wide. `Krr, krr, krr!' croaked a flock
of ravens over the traveller, scared by the clash of his sword,
and flew into the air. `Praise be to God! the golden castle
won't be far off now,' cried the prince, and proceeded, encouraged,
onwards in the direction in which the ravens

showed him the road. Scarcely had he come out of the
valley on to a small hill, when he saw a beautiful and wide
meadow, and in the midst of the meadow stood a golden
castle, just as if he were gazing at the sun; and before the
gate of the castle stood an old bent Jezibaba, leaning on a
golden staff. `Ah! my son! what do you seek for here?'
cried she to the prince. `Here there is neither bird nor
insect to be seen, much less a human being! If your life is
dear to you, flee, for if my son comes, he will devour you!'
`Nay, old mother, he'll hardly eat me,' replied he. `I
bring him a greeting from his brother in the silver castle.'
`Well, if you bring him a greeting from the silver castle,
come into the parlour and tell me what has brought you to
us.' `What has brought me to you, old mother? I have
long been wandering in this mountain range, and haven't
been able to find out where are the glass hill and the three
lemons. I was directed to you, because haply you might
be able to give me information about it.' `Where is the
glass hill? I cannot tell you that; but stay! when my son
comes, he will counsel you which way you must go, and
what you must do. Hide yourself under the table, and stay
there till I call you.'

The mountains echoed, the castle quaked, and Jezibaba's
son stepped into the parlour. `Foh! foh! there's a smell
of human flesh; I'm going to eat it!' shouted he, while
still in the doorway, and thumped with a golden club upon
the ground, so that the whole castle quaked. `Gently, my
son, gently!' said Jezibaba, soothing him; `there is a handsome
youth come, who brings you a greeting from your
brother in the silver castle. If you will do nothing to him,
I will call him at once.' `Well, if my brother has done
nothing to him, neither will I do anything to him.' The
prince came out from under the table and placed himself
beside him, looking, in comparison, as if he had placed

himself beside a lofty tower, and showed him the silver
dumplings in token that he had really been at the silver
castle. `Well, tell me, you beetle, what you want!' shouted
the monstrous ogre; `if I can counsel you, counsel you I
will; don't fear!' Then the prince explained to him the
aim of his long journey, and begged him to advise him
which way to go to the glass hill, and what he must do to
obtain the three lemons. `Do you see that black knoll that
looms yonder?' said he, pointing with his golden club; `that
is the glass hill; on the top of the hill stands a tree, and on
the tree hang three lemons, whose scent spreads seven miles
round. You will go up the glass hill, kneel under the tree,
and hold up your hands; if the lemons are destined for you,
they will fall off into your hands of themselves; but, if they
are not destined for you, you will not pluck them, whatever
you do. When you are on your return, and are hungry or
thirsty, cut one of the lemons into halves, and you will eat
and drink your fill. And now go, and God be with you!
But stay, I won't let you go hungry. Mother, here with
the dumplings!' Jezibaba set a large golden dish on the
table. `Eat!' said her son to the prince, `or, if you don't
want to do so now, put some into your pocket; you will eat
them on the road.' The prince had no desire to eat, but
put some into his pocket, saying that he would eat them on
the road. He then thanked him courteously for his hospitality
and counsel, and proceeded further.

Swiftly he paced from hill into dale, from dale on to a
fresh hill, and never stopped till he was beneath the glass
hill itself. There he stopped, as if turned to a stone. The
hill was high and smooth; there wasn't a single crack in it.
On the top spread the branches of a wondrous tree, and on
the tree swung three lemons, whose scent was so powerful
that the prince almost fainted. `God help me! Now, as it
shall be, so it will be. Now that I'm once here, I will at

any rate make the attempt,' thought he to himself, and
began to climb up the smooth glass; but scarcely had he
ascended a few fathoms when his foot slipped, and he himself,
pop! down the hill, so that he didn't know where he
was, or what he was, till he found himself on the ground at
the bottom. Wearied out, he began to throw away the
dumplings, thinking that their weight was a hindrance to
him. He threw away the first, and lo! the dumpling fixed
itself on the glass hill. He threw a second and a third, and
saw before him three steps, on which he could stand with
safety. The prince was overjoyed. He kept throwing the
dumplings before him, and in every case steps formed themselves
from them for him. First he threw the leaden ones,
then the silver, and then the golden ones. By the steps
thus constructed he ascended higher and higher till he
happily attained the tompost ridge of the glass hill. Here
he knelt down under the tree and held up his hands. And
lo! the three beautiful lemons flew down of themselves into
the palms of his hands. The tree disappeared, the glass
hill crashed and vanished, and when the prince came to
himself, there was no tree, no hill, but a wide plain lay
extended before him.

He commenced his return homeward with delight. He
neither ate nor drank, nor saw nor heard, for very joy.
But when the third day came, a vacuum began to make
itself felt in his stomach. He was so hungry that he would
gladly have then and there betaken himself to the leaden
dumplings if his pocket hadn't been empty. His pocket
was empty, and all around was just as bare as the palm of
his hand. Then he took a lemon out of his pocket and cut
it into halves; and what came to pass? Out of the lemon
sprang a beautiful damsel, who made a reverence before
him, and cried out: `Have you made ready for me to eat?
Have you made ready for me to drink? Have you made

pretty dresses ready for me?' `I have nothing, beautiful
creature, for you to eat, nothing for you to drink, nothing
for you to put on,' said the prince, in a sorrowful voice, and
the beautiful damsel clapped her white hands thrice before
him, made a reverence and vanished.

`Aha! now I know what sort of lemons these are,' said
the prince; `stay! I won't cut them up so lightly.' From
the cut one he ate and drank to his satisfaction, and thus
refreshed, proceeded onwards.

But on the third day a hunger three times worse than
the preceding, assailed him. `God help me!' said he;
`I have still one remaining over. I'll cut it up.' He then
took out the second lemon, cut it in halves, and lo! a
damsel still more beautiful than the preceding one placed
herself before him. `Have you made ready for me to eat?
Have you made ready for me to drink? Have you made
pretty dresses ready for me?' `I have not, dear soul! I
have not!' and the beautiful damsel clapped her hands thrice
before him, made a reverence, and vanished.

Now he had only one lemon remaining; he took it in his
hand and said: `I will not cut you open save in my father's
house,' and therewith proceeded onwards. On the third
day he saw, after long absence, his native town. He didn't
know himself how he got there, when he found himself at once
in his father's castle. Tears of joy bedewed his old father's
cheeks: `Welcome, my son! welcome a hundred times!'
he cried, and fell upon his neck. The prince related how
it had gone with him on his journey, and the members of
the household how anxiously they had waited for him.

On the next day a grand entertainment was prepared;
lords and ladies were invited from all quarters; and beautiful
dresses, embroidered with gold and studded with pearls
were got ready. The lords and ladies assembled, took their
seats at the tables, and waited expectantly to see what would

happen. Then the prince took out the last lemon, cut it
in halves, and out of the lemon sprang a lady thrice as
beautiful as had been the preceding ones. `Have you
made ready for me to eat? Have you made ready for me
to drink? Have you got pretty dresses ready for me?' `I
have, my dear soul, got everything ready for you,' answered
the prince, and presented the handsome dresses to her. The
beautiful damsel put on the beautiful clothes, and all rejoiced
at her extraordinary beauty. Ere long the betrothal
took place, and after the betrothal a magnificent wedding.

Now was fulfilled the old king's wish; he blessed his son,
resigned the kingdom into his hands, and ere long died.

The first thing that occurred to the new king after his
father's death was a war, which a neighbouring king excited
against him. Now he was constrained for the first time to
part from his hard-earned wife. Lest, therefore, anything
should happen to her in his absence, he caused a throne to
be erected for her in a garden beside a lake, which no one
could ascend, save the person to whom she let down a
silken cord, and drew that person up to her.

Not far from the royal castle lived an old woman, the
same that had given the prince the counsel about the three
lemons. She had a servant, a gipsy, whom she was in the
habit of sending to the lake for water. She knew very well
that the young king had obtained a wife, and it annoyed her
excessively that he had not invited her to the wedding,
nay, had not even thanked her for her good advice. One
day she sent her maidservant to the lake for water. She
went, drew water, and saw a beautiful image in the water.
Under the impression that this was her own reflection, she
banged her pitcher on the ground, so that it flew into a
thousand pieces. `Are you worthy,' said she, `that so
beautiful a person as myself should carry water for an old
witch like you?' As she uttered this she looked up, and

lo! it wasn't her own reflection that she saw in the water,
but that of the beautiful queen. Ashamed, she picked up
the pieces and returned home. The old woman, who knew
beforehand what had occurred, went out to meet her with
a fresh pitcher, and asked her servant, for appearance' sake,
what had happened to her. The servant related all as it
had occurred. `Well, that's nothing!' said the old woman.
`But, do you know what? Go you once more to the lake,
and ask the lady to let down the silken cord and draw you
up, promising to comb and dress her hair. If she draws
you up, you will comb her hair, and when she falls asleep,
stick this pin into her head. Then dress yourself in her
clothes and sit there as queen.'

It wasn't necessary to use much persuasion to the gipsy;
she took the pin, took the pitcher, and returned to the
lake. She drew water and looked at the beautiful queen.
`Dear me! how beautiful you are! Ah! you are beautiful!'
she screamed, and looked with coaxing gestures into her
eyes. `Yes,' said she; `but you would be a hundred times
more beautiful if you would let me comb and dress your
hair; in truth, I would so twine those golden locks that
your lord could not help being delighted.' And thus she
jabbered, thus she coaxed, till the queen let down the silken
cord and drew her up.

The nasty gipsy combed, separated, and plaited the golden
hair till the beautiful queen fell sound asleep. Then the
gipsy drew out the pin, and stuck it into the sleeping queen's
head. At that moment a beautiful white dove flew off the
golden throne, and not a vestige remained of the lovely
queen save her handsome clothes, in which the gipsy speedily
dressed herself, took her seat in the place where the queen
sat before, and gazed into the lake; but the beautiful
reflection displayed itself no more in the lake, for even in the
queen's clothes the gipsy nevertheless remained a gipsy.

The young king was successful in overcoming his enemies,
and made peace with them. Scarcely had he returned to
the town, when he went to the garden to seek his delight,
and to see whether anything had happened to her. But
who shall express his astonishment and horror, when, instead
of his beautiful queen, he beheld a sorry gipsy. `Ah, my
dear, my very dear one, how you have altered!' sighed he,
and tears bedewed his cheeks. `I have altered, my beloved!
I have altered; for anxiety for you has tortured me,' answered
the gipsy, and wanted to fall upon his neck; but the king
turned away from her and departed in anger. From that
time forth he had no settled abode, no rest; he knew
neither day nor night; but merely mourned over the lost
beauty of his wife, and nothing could comfort him.

Thus agitated and melancholy, he was walking one day
in the garden. Here, as he moved about at haphazard, a
beautiful white dove flew on to his hand from a high tree,
and looked with mournful gaze into his bloodshot eyes.
`Ah, my dove! why are you so sad? Has your mate been
transformed like my beautiful wife?' said the young king,
talking to it and caressingly stroking its head and back.
But feeling a kind of protuberance on its head, he blew the
feathers apart, and behold! the head of a pin! Touched
with compassion, the king extracted the pin; that instant
the beautiful mourning dove was changed into his beautiful
wife. She narrated to him all that had happened to her,
and how it had happened; how the gipsy had deluded her,
and how she had stuck the pin into her head. The king
immediately caused the gipsy and the old woman to be
apprehended and burnt without further ado.

From that time forth nothing interfered with his happiness,
neither the might of his enemies nor the spite of wicked
people. He lived with his beautiful wife in peace and love;
he reigned prosperously, and is reigning yet, if he be yet alive.

XI.—THE SUN-HORSE.

There was once upon a time a country, sad and gloomy
as the grave, on which God's sun never shone. But there
was a king there, and this king possessed a horse with a
sun on his forehead; and this sun-horse of his the king
caused to be led up and down the dark country, from one
end to the other, that the people might be able to exist
there; and light came from him on all sides wherever he
was led, just as in the most beautiful day.

All at once the sun-horse disappeared. A darkness worse
than that of night prevailed over the whole country, and
nothing could disperse it. Unheard-of terror spread among
the subjects; frightful misery began to afflict them, for they
could neither manufacture anything nor earn anything, and
such confusion arose among them that everything was
turned topsy-turvy. The king, therefore, in order to liberate
his realm and prevent universal destruction, made ready to
seek the sun-horse with his whole army.

Through thick darkness he made his way as best he could
to the frontier of his realm. Over dense mountains thousands
of ages old God's light began now to break from another
country, as if the sun were rising in the morning out of
thick fogs. On such a mountain the king came with his
army to a poor lonely cottage. He went in to inquire
where he was, what it was, and how to get further. At a
table sat a peasant, diligently reading in an open book.
When the king bowed to him he raised his eyes, thanked
him, and stood up. His whole person announced that he
was not a man like another man, but a seer.

`I was just reading about you,' said he to the king, `how
that you are going to seek the sun-horse. Journey no
further, for you will not obtain him; but rely on me: I will
find him for you.' `I promise you, good man, I will recompense

you royally,' replied the king, `if you bring him here
to me.' `I require no recompense; return home with your
army—you're wanted there; only leave me one servant.'

The next day the seer set out with the servant. The
way was far and long, for they passed through six countries,
and had still further to go, till in the seventh country they
stopped at the royal palace. In this seventh country ruled
three own brothers, who had to wife three own sisters, whose
mother was a witch. When they stopped in front of the
palace, the seer said to his servant: `Do you hear? you
stay here, and I will go in to ascertain whether the kings
are at home; for the horse with the sun is in their possession—the
youngest rides upon him.' Therewith he transformed
himself into a green bird, and, flying on the gable
of the eldest queen's roof, flew up and down and pecked at
it until she opened the window and let him into her chamber.
And when she let him in he perched on her white
hand, and the queen was as delighted with him as a little
child. `Ah, what a dear creature you are!' said she, as she
played with him; `if my husband were at home he would
indeed be delighted with you; but he won't come till
evening; he has gone to visit the third part of his country.'

All at once the old witch came into the room, and, seeing
the bird, screamed to her daughter, `Wring the accursed
bird's neck, for it's making you bleed!' `Well, what if it
should make me bleed? it's such a dear; it's such an
innocent dear!' answered the daughter. But the witch
said: `Dear innocent mischief! here with him! let me
wring his neck!' and dashed at it. But the bird cunningly
transformed itself into a man, and, pop! out through the
door, and they didn't know whither he had betaken himself.

Afterwards he again transformed himself into a green
bird, flew on the gable of the middle sister, and pecked at

it till she opened the window for him. And when she let
him in he flew on to her white hand, and fluttered from one
hand to the other. `Oh, what a dear creature you are!'
cried the queen, smiling; `my husband would indeed be
delighted with you if he were at home; but he won't come
till to-morrow evening; he has gone to visit two thirds of
his kingdom.'

Thereupon the witch burst into the room. `Wring the
accursed bird's neck! wring its neck, for it's making you
bleed!' cried she as soon as she espied it. `Well, what if
it should make me bleed? it's such a dear, such an innocent
dear!' replied the daughter. But the witch said:
`Dear innocent mischief! here with it! let me wring its
neck!' and was already trying to seize it. But at that
moment the green bird changed itself into a man, ran out
through the door, and disappeared, as it were, in the clap
of a hand, so that they didn't know whither he had gone.

A little while afterwards he changed himself again into a
green bird and flew on the gable of the youngest queen's
roof, and flew up and down, and pecked at it until she
opened the window to him. And when she had let him
in he flew straight on to her white hand, and made himself
so agreeable to her that she played with him with the
delight of a child. `Ah, what a dear creature you are!'
said the queen; `if my husband were at home he would
certainly be delighted with you, but he won't come till the
day after to-morrow at even; he has gone to visit all three
parts of his kingdom.'

At that moment the old witch came into the room.
`Wring, wring the accursed bird's neck!' screamed she in
the doorway, `for it is making you bleed.' `Well, what if
it should make me bleed, mother? it is so beautiful, so
innocent,' answered the daughter. The witch said, `Beautiful
innocent mischief! here with him! let me wring his

neck!' But at that moment the bird changed itself into a
man, and pop! out through the door, so that none of them
saw him more.

Now the seer knew where the kings were, and when they
would arrive. He went to his servant and ordered him to
follow him out of the town. On they went with rapid step
till they came to a bridge, over which the kings were obliged
to pass.

Under this bridge they stayed waiting till the evening.
When at even the sun was sinking behind the mountains,
the clatter of a horse was heard near the bridge. It was the
eldest king returning home. Close to the bridge his horse
stumbled over a log of wood, which the seer had thrown
across the bridge. `Ha! what scoundrel was that who
threw this log across the road?' exclaimed the king in anger.
Thereat the seer sprang out from under the bridge and
rushed upon the king for `daring to call him a scoundrel,'
and, drawing his sword, attacked him. The king, too, drew
his sword to defend himself, but after a short combat fell
dead from his horse. The seer bound the dead king on the
horse, and gave the horse a lash with the whip to make him
carry his dead master home. He then withdrew under the
bridge, and they waited there till the next evening.

When day a second time declined towards evening, the
middle king came to the bridge, and, seeing the ground
sprinkled with blood, cried out, `Somebody's been killed
here! Who has dared to perpetrate such a crime in my
kingdom?' At these words the seer sprang out from under
the bridge and rushed upon the king with drawn sword,
exclaiming, `How dare you insult me? Defend yourself as
best you can!' The king did defend himself, but after a
brief struggle yielded up his life under the sword of the seer.
The seer again fastened his corpse upon the horse, and gave
the horse a lash with the whip to make him carry his dead

master home. They then withdrew under the bridge and
waited till the third evening came.

The third evening, at the very setting of the sun, up darted
the youngest king on the sun-horse, darted up with speed, for
he was somewhat late; but when he saw the red blood in
front of the bridge, he stopped, and gazing at it exclaimed,
`It is an unheard-of villain who has dared to murder a man
in my kingdom!' Scarcely had these words issued from his
mouth when the seer placed himself before him with drawn
sword, sternly bidding him defend himself, `for he had
wounded his honour.' `I don't know how,' answered the
king, `unless it is you that are the villain.' But as his
adversary attacked him with a sword, he, too, drew his, and
defended himself manfully.

It had been mere play to the seer to overcome the first
two kings, but it was not so with this one. Long time they
fought, and broke their swords, yet victory didn't show itself
either on the one side or on the other. `We shall effect
nothing with swords,' said the seer, `but do you know what?
Let us turn ourselves into wheels and start down from the
hill; the wheel which breaks shall be the conquered.'
`Good!' said the king; `I'll be a cart-wheel, and you shall
be a lighter wheel.' `Not so,' cunningly said the seer; `you
shall be the lighter wheel, and I will be the cart-wheel;' and
the king agreed to it. Then they went up the hill, turned
themselves into wheels, and started downwards. The cartwheel
flew to pieces, and bang! right into the lighter wheel,
so that it all smashed up. Immediately the seer arose out
of the cart-wheel and joyfully exclaimed, `There you are, the
victory is mine!' `Not a bit of it, sir brother!' cried the
king, placing himself in front of the seer; `you have only
broken my fingers. But do you know what? Let us make
ourselves into flames, and the flame which burns up the
other shall be the victor. I will make myself into a red

flame, and do you make yourself into a bluish one.' `Not
so!' interrupted the seer; `you make yourself into a bluish
flame, and I will make myself into a red one.' The king
agreed to this also. They went into the road to the bridge,
and, changing themselves into flames, began to burn each
other unmercifully. Long did they burn each other, but
nothing came of it. Thereupon, by coincidence, up came
an old beggar with a long gray beard, a bald head, a large
scrip at his side, leaning upon a thick staff. `Old father!'
said the bluish flame, `bring some water and quench this
red flame; I'll give you a penny for it.' The red flame
cunningly exclaimed, `Old father! I'll give you a shilling if
you'll pour the water on this bluish flame.' The old beggar
liked the shilling better than the penny, brought water and
quenched the bluish flame. Then it was all over with the
king. The red flame turned itself into a man, took the sun-horse
by the bridle, mounted on his back, called the servant,
thanked the beggar for the service he had rendered, and
went off.

In the royal palaces there was deep grief at the murder of
the two kings; the entire palaces were draped with black
cloth, and the people crowded into them from all quarters
to gaze at the cut and slashed bodies of the two elder brothers,
whose horses had brought them home. The old witch,
exasperated at the death of her sons-in-law, devised a plan
of vengeance on their murderer, the seer. She seated herself
with speed on an iron rake, took her three daughters
under her arms, and pop! off with them into the air.

The seer and his servant had already got through a good
part of their journey, and were then crossing desert mountains,
a treeless waste. Here a terrible hunger seized the
servant, and there wasn't even a wild plum to assuage it.
All of a sudden they came to an apple-tree. Apples were
hanging on it; the branches were all but breaking under

their weight; their scent was beautiful; they were delightfully
ruddy, so that they almost offered themselves to be
eaten. `Praise be to God!' cried the delighted servant; `I
shall eat one of those apples with an excellent appetite.'
`Don't attempt to gather one of them!' cried the seer to
him; `wait, I'll gather some for you myself.' But instead
of plucking an apple, he drew his sword and thrust it
mightily into the apple-tree; red blood spouted out of it.
`There,' said he, `you would have come to harm if you had
eaten any of those apples, for the apple-tree was the eldest
queen, whose mother placed her there to put us out of this
world.'

After a time they came to a spring; water clear as crystal
bubbled up in it, all but running over the brim and thus
attracting wayfarers. `Ah!' said the servant, `if we can't
get anything better, let us at any rate have a drink of this
good water.' `Don't venture to drink of it!' shouted the
seer; `but stay, I'll get you some of it.' Yet he didn't get
him any water, but thrust his drawn sword into the midst of
it; it was immediately discoloured with blood, which began
to flow from it in mighty waves. `That is the middle queen,
whose mother placed her here to put us out of this world,'
said the seer, and the servant thanked him for his warning,
and went on, would he, nould he, in hunger and thirst,
whithersoever the seer led him.

After a time they came to a rose-bush, which was red with
delightful roses, and filled the air round about with their
scent. `Oh, what beautiful roses!' said the servant; `I
never saw such beauties in all my life. I'll go and gather a
few of them; I will at any rate comfort myself with them if
I can't assuage my hunger and thirst.' `Don't venture to
gather one of them!' cried the seer; `I will gather them for
you.' With that he cut into the bush with his sword; red
blood spurted out, as if he had cut the vein of a human

being. `That is the youngest queen,' said the seer to his
servant, `whom her mother, the witch, placed here with the
intention of taking vengeance upon us for the death of her
sons-in-law.' They then went on.

When they crossed the frontier of the dark realm, flashes
flew in all directions from the horse's forehead, and everything
came to life again, beautiful regions rejoiced and
blossomed with the flowers of spring. The king didn't
know how to thank the seer sufficiently, and offered him
the half of his kingdom as a reward, but he declined it.
`You are king,' said he; `rule over the whole realm, and I
will return to my cottage in peace.' He took leave and
departed.

XII.—THE GOLDEN SPINSTER.

Far away somewhere beyond the Red Sea, there was a
certain young lord. When he had grown up in body and
mind, he bethought himself that indeed it would not be a
bad thing to look round him in the world and seek out a
nice wife for himself, and a good mistress for his household.
Well, as he determined, so he did. He went out into the
world, but could not find such a one as he would have
liked. At last he went somehow into the house of a
widow, who had three daughters, all maidens. The two
elder were as active as wasps for work, but the youngest,
who was named Hanka, was like a leaden bird for everything
that wanted doing. When the young lord came to them
at spinning time he was astounded. `How is it,' thought
he, `that Hanka can be sleeping in the chimney-corner, while
the other spinsters are hard at work at their tasks?' He
said to their mother: `But, old lady, tell me, why don't
you make that one, too, take a distaff? She is quite a
grown-up girl, and would amuse herself by work.' `Ah!

young sir,' replied the mother, `I would allow her to spin
with all my heart; I would fill her distaff myself; but what
then? She is such a spinster, that by herself she would by
morning spin up not only all our spinning materials, but all
the thatch from the roof, and that into golden threads; nay,
at last she would betake herself to my gray hairs; I am
obliged, therefore, to give her a holiday.' `If this be so,'
said the delighted suitor, `and if it is God's will, you can
give her to me to wife. You see, I have a nice establishment—flax,
hemp, whole heaps of the finer and commoner
kinds of tow; she could spin away to her heart's content.'
At such language the old woman did not take long for
consideration, and Hanka woke from her slumbers. They
brought the bridegroom expectant a handsome olive-coloured
handkerchief out of the clothes-chest, adorned him with
periwinkles, and performed the marriage ceremony that very
evening. The other spinsters were somewhat mortified at
Hanka's good fortune, but finally were content at it, hoping
that they, too, would get rings on their fingers,[3] now that
the idle hand, as they nicknamed Hanka, had obtained a
husband. The next day our young bridegroom ordered his
horses to be harnessed, and when all was ready, placed the
tearful bride beside him in a handsome carriage, gave his
hand to his mother-in-law, called out `Farewell!' to the
bride's sisters, and they left the village at a gallop.

For better or worse! Poor Hanka sat by her youthful
husband mournful and tearful, just as if the chickens had
eaten up all her bread. He talked to her enough, but
Hanka was as mute as a fish. `What's the matter with
you?' said he. `Don't be frightened. At my house,
indeed, there will be no going to sleep for you. I shall give
you all that your heart desires. You will have flax, hemp,
fine and coarse tow enough for the whole winter, and I

have got in a store of apples for spittle.' But our Hanka
became more sorrowful the further they went. Thus they
arrived in the evening at the young lord's castle, got down
from the carriage, and, after supper, the future lady was
conducted into a large room, in which, from top to bottom,
lay nothing but spinning materials. `Well,' said he, `here
you have distaff, spindle, and spindle-ring, and rosy apples
and a few peas for spittle—spin away! If you spin all this,
by morning, into golden threads, we shall be man and wife
at once; if not, I shall cause you to be put to death without
further ado.' Thereupon the young lord went out and left
the spinster to spin. When Hanka was left alone, she
didn't seat herself under the distaff, for she didn't even know
how to twirl the threads, but began sorrowfully to exclaim:
`Oh God! God! here I am come out to vile disgrace!
Why did not my mother teach me to work and spin like
my two sisters? I might then have reposed in peace at
home; but, as it is, sinful creature that I am, I must perish
miserably.' As she was thus expressing her feelings, the
wall suddenly opened, and a little mannikin stood before
the terrified Hanka, with a red cap on his head and an
apron girt round his waist; before him he pushed a little
golden hand-cart. `Why have you your eyes so tearful?'
inquired he of Hanka. `What has happened to you?'
`As if, sinful soul that I am, I should not weep,' said she;
`only think, they have ordered me to spin all these spinning
materials into golden threads by morning, and if I don't do
so, they will have me put to death without any ceremony.
Oh God! God! what shall I do, forlorn in this strange
world?' `If that is all,' said the mannikin, `don't be
frightened. I will teach you to spin golden threads cleverly;
but only on this condition, that I find you this time next
year in this very place. Then, if you do not guess my
honourable name, you will become my wife, and I shall
convey you away in this cart. But, if you guess it, I shall
leave you in peace. But this I tell you: if you choose to
hide yourself anywhere this time next year, and if you fly ever
so far beneath the sky, I shall find you, and will wring your
neck. Well, have you agreed to this?' It was not, sooth to
say, very satisfactory to Hanka; but what could the poor
thing do? At length she bethought herself: `Let it be
left to God, whether I perish this way or that! I agree.'
The mannikin, on hearing this, made three circuits round
her with his golden cart, seated himself under the distaff,
and repeating:
taught and instructed her to spin golden threads. After
this, as he came, so he departed, and the wall closed up
of itself behind him. Our damsel, from that time forth a
real golden spinster, sat under the distaff, and seeing how
the spinning materials decreased and the golden threads
increased, spun and spun away, and by morning had not
only spun up all, but had had a good sleep into the bargain.
In the morning, as soon as the young lord awoke, he dressed
himself and went to visit the golden spinster. When he
entered the room he was all but blinded by the glitter, and
wouldn't even believe his eyes, that it was all gold. But
when he had satisfied himself that so it was, he began to
embrace the golden spinster, and declared her his true and
lawful wife. Thus they lived in the fear of God, and if our
young lord had previously loved his Haniczka for the
golden spinning, he then loved her a thousand times more
for the beautiful son that she in the meantime bore him.

But what? There's no footpath without an end, neither
could the joy of our wedded pair endure for ever. Day
passed after day, till finally the appointed time approached

within a span. Now our Hanka began to be more sorrowful
from moment to moment; her eyes were as red as if they
were baked, and she did nothing but creep like a shadow
from room to room. And, indeed, it was a serious thing for
a young mother to have to lose all at once her good husband
and her beautiful son! Hitherto her poor husband knew
nought about anything, and comforted his wife as well as
he could; but she would not be comforted. When she
bethought herself what a nasty dwarf she was going to obtain
instead of her shapely husband, she all but dashed herself
against the walls from excessive agony. At last she managed
to overcome herself, and revealed everything to her husband
as it had occurred to her on that first night. He became,
from horror, as pale as a whitewashed wall, and caused proclamation
to be made throughout the whole district that, if
anyone knew of such a dwarf, and should make known his
real name, he would give him a piece of gold as large as his
head. `Ah! what a windfall such a piece of gold as that
would be!' whispered neighbour to neighbour, and they dispersed
on all sides, examined all corners, all but looked into
the mouseholes, searched and searched as for a needle, but,
after all, couldn't find anything out. Nobody knew and
nobody had seen the dwarf, and as for his name, no living
soul could guess it. Under such circumstances the last day
arrived; nothing had been seen or heard of the mannikin,
and our Hanka, with her boy at her breast, was wringing
her hands at the prospect of losing her husband. Her
unhappy husband, whose eyes were almost exhausted from
weeping, in order, at any rate, to escape from beholding the
agony of his wife, took his gun on his shoulder, fastened his
faithful hounds in a leash, and went out hunting. After
hunting time—it was about the hour of afternoon luncheon
—it began to lighten on all sides and in all directions, rain
poured so that it would have been a shame to turn a dog
out into the roads, and in this tempest all our young lord's
servants sought shelter where they could, and got so lost
that he remained with only one on a densely wooded
unknown hill, and that as soaked and dripping as a rat.
Where were they to seek shelter before the ever-increasing
storm? where to dry themselves? where to obtain harbour
for the night? The unlucky pair, master and servant, looked
round on all sides to see whether they couldn't espy a
shepherd's hut or a cattle-shed; but where nothing is, there
is nothing. Finally, when they had almost strained their
eyes out of the sockets, they saw where, out of the hole of
the side shaft of a mine, puffs of smoke were rolling, as from
a limekiln. `Go, lad,' said the young lord to the servant,
`look whence this smoke issues; there must be people
there. Ask them whether they will give us lodging for the
night.' The servant went off and returned in a jiffy with
the intelligence that neither door, nor shed, nor people were
there. `Fie, you're only a duffer!' said the lord to his
servant with chattering teeth. `I'll go myself; you, for a
punishment, shall drip and freeze.' Well, the noble lord
took the job in hand, but neither could he espy anything,
save that in one place smoke kept continually issuing out of
the side shaft. At last in disgust he said: `Whatever devil
on devil may bring, know I must whence all this smoke
comes.' So he went to the hole itself, knelt beside it and
peeped in. As he was thus peeping, he espied, somewhere
under ground, where food was cooking in a kitchen, and
covers were laid for two on a stone table. Round this table
ran a little mannikin in a red cap with a golden hand-cart
before him, and from time to time, after making the circuit,
he sang:
And again he ran like mad round the table and shouted:
The young lord wanted nothing more; he ran as fast as
his legs could carry him to his servant, and, as it now cleared
up a little, they were fortunate enough to find a path, by
which they hastened home. He found his wife at home in
agony, in misery, streaming with tears; for she thought she
would not be able even to take leave of her husband, as he
was so long away. `Don't afflict yourself, my wife,' were
the young lord's first words when he entered the room. `I
know what you require; his name is Martynko Klyngas.'
And then he, without delay, recounted to her everything,
where he had gone and what had happened to him. Hanka
could scarcely keep on her feet for joy, embraced and kissed
her husband, and betook herself joyfully into the room, in
which she had spent the first night, to finish spinning the
golden threads. At midnight the wall opened, and the
mannikin with the red cap came in, as he had done that
time last year, and running round her with the golden cart
shouted with the utmost power of his lungs:
`I'll have a try to guess,' said Hanka; `your name is
Martynko Klyngas.' As soon as she had uttered this, the
little dwarf seized his cart, threw his cap on the ground, and
departed as he had come; the wall closed, and Hanka
breathed in peace. From that time forth she spun no more
gold, and, indeed, neither was it necessary for her so to do,
for they were rich enough. She and her husband lived
happily together, their boy grew like a young tree by the
water's side; and they bought a cow, and on the cow a bell,
and here's an end to the tale I tell.'

[This story may be compared with `Rumpelstiltskin' in
Grimm. The principle is the same; but, I think, the
variation in the details is much in favour of the Slavonic
tale.]

XIII.—ARE YOU ANGRY?

Where it was, there it was, a certain village there was, in
which lived a father with three sons. One of them was
silly, and always sat in the chimney corner,[4] but the other
two were considered clever. One of these went out to
service in a village not far off. His mother put on his back
a wallet full of cakes baked under the ashes. He went into
a house and made an engagement with the master upon the
terms that whichever got angry first was to have his nose
cut off. The servant went to thresh. He was not called
by his master either to breakfast or to dinner. His master
asked him: `Well, Mishek, are you angry?' `What have
I to be angry for?' Evening came, and supper was cooked;
again they did not ask Mishek. His master asked him:
`Well, Mishek, are you angry?' `What have I to be angry
for?' He wasn't angry, for the cakes from home still held
out. But during the second and third day the wallet was
emptied, and again he wasn't summoned to dinner. His
master asked him: `Mishek, are you not angry?' `Wouldn't
even the devil be angry, when you are thus killing me with
hunger?' Then his master pulled out a knife and cut off
Mishek's nose. He hastened home noseless, and complained
to his father and brothers of his wicked master. `You

simpleton!' said the next brother, Pavko. `Stay, I'll go!
Hey, mother, bake some cakes under the ashes!' Pavko
started off and went straight to the same village and to the
same house, and made an engagement with the same master,
on the terms that whichever was the first to become angry
was to have his nose cut off. They set him, too, to thresh
for three days, but neither on the first, nor on the second,
nor on the third day, did they call him to take a meal.
`Pavko, are you not angry?' `Wouldn't even devils be angry
with you? My belly has already grown to my backbone.'
Thereupon his master pulled out a knife and cut off Pavko's
nose. Pavko went home noseless, and said to his elder
brother: `That's a cruel house of entertainment; the devil's
got my nose.' Then Adam, the youngest, shouted from the
chimney-corner: `You are idiots! I'll go, and you'll see
that I shall make a good job of it.' He went with cakes
baked under the ashes in his wallet, and hit right upon the
same village in which his brothers had been, and engaged
himself with the same master upon the terms that whichever
got angry first should have his nose cut off. But Adam
knew how to proceed intelligently. When his master didn't
call him to dinner, he went to the public-house with what
he had threshed and pawned it all. His master came and
didn't see a grain of corn. Adam then asked him:
`Master, are you angry?' `Why should I be angry?' This
occurred several times, and his master always said that
he wasn't angry, for fear of losing his nose. Once there
came a day on which the master and mistress were obliged
to be from home, and they ordered Adam by their return
to kill the first sheep that looked at him when he entered
the stable, to dress it and boil it in a caldron, putting
parsley with it. Adam went into the stable with great
banging and noise, so that all the sheep looked at him at
once, whereupon he slaughtered them all. One he dressed
and put in the caldron, but instead of parsley he threw in a
dog called by that name. His master and mistress came
and asked Adam whether he had done everything properly?
He said: `I've slaughtered the sheep and thrown Parsley
into the caldron till I saw his feet. Now, master, are you
angry?' `What have I to be angry about?' he replied, for
he preferred keeping his nose. On Christmas Eve, when
they had to go to church, it was very dark. Adam's master
said to him: `It would be a good thing if somebody would
light us as far as the church.' `Go! go! I'll light you.'
He took fire and set the roof on fire, till the whole house
was in flames. The master hurried up, and Adam said to
him: `Master, are you angry?' `Why should I be angry?'
said he; for his nose was dearer to him than his house.
But what was he to do without a house, without everything?
They went into the world, master, mistress, and servant.
They wanted to put him to death; and planned together,
that when he was asleep his master should throw him into
the water. But Adam was up to this; he didn't lie down
on the side nearest the water, but got up in the night and
threw his mistress, who was on that side, into the water.
His master woke, and saw that his wife was gone; and
began to cry out. But Adam asked him: `Well, master,
are you angry?' `Wouldn't even the devil be angry, now
that you've done me out of everything?' Adam took a
knife and cut off his master's nose. He then took to his
heels, went home, and said to his brothers: `Now you see,
you wiseacres, that I've earned the nose.'