Part 16
So in the morning he gave a canoe to the King’s son, and it went on of itself without him turning or guiding it, till it brought him to the old man’s brother, and he got a welcome there and good treatment, and in the course of the night he asked that old man did he know where was Burnett’s orchard.
“I do not,” said he: “though I am two hundred years old I never heard of it. But go on,” he said, “to a brother I have that has a hundred years more than myself.”
So in the morning, he went into the canoe, and it went on of itself till it came to where the third old man was, that was older again than the other two, and the King’s son asked did he know where was Burnett’s garden. “I do not,” he said, “although I am three hundred years old; but I will tell you how you will know it,” he said. “Go on till you come to shore, where you will see a Swan-Gander standing by the water, and he is the one that can tell you and can bring you to it,” he said. “And ask him to bring you to that garden in the name of the Almighty God.”
So the King’s son went on in the canoe till he came where the Swan-Gander was standing on the shore. “Can you tell me,” says he, “where can I get the apples that are in Burnett’s orchard? And can you bring me there?” he said.
“Indeed,” said the Swan-Gander, “I am in no way obliged to your leader, or to whoever it was sent you to me and gave you that teaching. And those apples are well minded,” he said, “by wolves; and the only time they sleep is for three hours once in every seven years. And it chances they are asleep for those three hours at this time; and so I will bring you there,” he said.
With that he stretched out his wings, and he bade the King’s son to get on his back. And it was long before he could start flying with the weight that was on him; but at last he flew away, and he brought the King’s son to Burnett’s garden, and there was a high wall around it, but he flew over the wall, and put him down in the garden. The King’s son filled his bag with the apples, and when he had done that he went looking around, and he came to a large cottage in the garden, and he went in, and there was no one in the house but a beautiful young girl, and she was asleep. So he went away; but he brought with him the gold rings and the gold garters that he saw there in the window.
He got up again on the back of the Swan-Gander, but it was hard for it to rise with the weight of the bag of apples. But it did rise at last, and it brought him to where the old man was that was three hundred years old. The King’s son gave one of the apples to the old man, and no sooner did he eat it than his age left him, and he was like a boy of fifteen years.
He went on then to the two other old men, and gave an apple to both of them, and no sooner did they eat it than they were like young boys again.
Then the King’s son went back to the crossroads, for it was the end of the year and a day, and he was the first to come there, and he fell asleep. The two brothers came and saw him there, and they stole the bag of apples from under his head and put in the place of it a bag of apples that were no use at all. Then they went on to their father’s house, and they gave him the apples they had stolen, and he was cured on the moment; but they told him that what the youngest son was bringing to him was poison apples, that would bring him to his death.
The King was very angry when he heard that, and he went to his butler and said, “Go out to the wood where my son is, and shoot him, and bring his heart here with you on the top of a gun and throw it to the dogs at the door; for I will never have him, or anything belonging to him, brought into the house,” he said.
So the butler got the gun, and went out to the wood; and when he saw the young man he was going to shoot him. “Why would you do that?” said he. So the butler told him all the father ordered him; and the young man said, “Do not shoot me, but save me. And this is what you will do. Go into the wood until you meet with a woodcock, and shoot it, and take the heart out of it, for that is most like the heart of a man. Bring the woodcock’s heart to my father’s house,” he said, “and throw it to the dogs at the door.”
So the butler did that, and spared him, and took the woodcock’s heart and threw it to the dogs at the door.
It was a good while after that, a beautiful young lady came to the King’s doorway in a coach and four, and stopped at the door. “Send out my husband to me here,” she said. So the eldest son came out to her. “Was it you came to the garden for the apples?” says she. “It was,” says he. “What things did you take notice of in the cottage where I was?” says she.
So he began telling of this thing and that thing that never was in it at all.
And when she heard that she gave him a clout that knocked his head as solid as any stone in the wall.
Then the second son came out, and she asked him the same question, and he told the same lies, and she gave him another clout that left his head as solid as any stone in the wall.
When the King heard all that, he knew they had deceived him, and that it was the youngest son who got the apples for his cure, and he began to cry after him and to lament that he was not living to come back again. “Would you like to know he is living yet?” says the butler. “I would sooner hear it than any word ever I heard,” says the King.
“Well he is living yet, and is in the wood,” says the butler.
When the young lady heard that, she bade the butler bring her to where he was, and they went together to the wood, and there they found him, where he had been living on the fruits of trees through the most of the year. When the young lady saw him, she said: “Was it you came to the house where I was in the garden?” “It was,” says he.
“What things did you take notice of in it?”
“Here they are,” says he. And he put his hand in his pocket, and brought out the gold rings and the golden garters, and the other signs he had brought away.
So she knew that he was the right one, and she married him, and they lived happy ever after, and there was great rejoicing in the King of Ireland’s house.
HOK LEE AND THE DWARFS
Retold by Andrew Lang
There once lived in a small town in China a man named Hok Lee. He was a steady, industrious man, who not only worked hard at his trade, but did all his own housework as well, for he had no wife to do it for him. “What an excellent, industrious man is this Hok Lee!” said his neighbors. “How hard he works! He never leaves his house to amuse himself or to take a holiday as others do!”
But Hok Lee was by no means the virtuous person his neighbors thought him. True, he worked hard enough by day, but at night, when all respectable folk were fast asleep, he used to steal out and join a dangerous band of robbers, who broke into rich people’s houses and carried off all they could lay hands on.
This state of things went on for some time, and though a thief was caught now and then and punished, no suspicion ever fell on Hok Lee, he was such a very respectable, hard-working man.
Hok Lee had already amassed a good store of money as his share of the proceeds of these robberies, when it happened one morning on going to market that a neighbor said to him:
“Why, Hok Lee, what is the matter with your face? One side of it is all swelled up.”
True enough, Hok Lee’s right cheek was twice the size of his left, and it soon began to feel very uncomfortable.
“I will bind up my face,” said Hok Lee. “Doubtless the warmth will cure the swelling.” But no such thing. Next day it was worse, and day by day it grew bigger and bigger till it was nearly as large as his head and became very painful.
Hok Lee was at his wits’ end what to do. Not only was his check unsightly and painful, but his neighbors began to jeer and make fun of him, which hurt his feelings very much indeed.
One day, as luck would have it, a traveling doctor came to the town. He sold not only all kinds of medicine, but also dealt in many strange charms against witches and evil spirits.
Hok Lee determined to consult him and asked him into his house. After the doctor had examined him carefully he spoke thus:
“This, Hok Lee, is no ordinary swelled face. I strongly suspect you have been doing some wrong deed which has called down the anger of the spirits on you. None of my drugs will avail to cure you, but if you are willing to pay me handsomely I can tell you how you may be cured.”
Then Hok Lee and the doctor began to bargain together, and it was a long time before they could come to terms. However, the doctor got the better of it in the end, for he was determined not to part with his secret under a certain price, and Hok Lee had no mind to carry his huge cheek about with him to the end of his days. So he was obliged to part with the greater portion of his ill-gotten gains.
When the doctor had pocketed the money he told Hok Lee to go on the first night of the full moon to a certain wood and there to watch by a
## particular tree. After a time he would see the dwarfs and little
sprites who live underground come out to dance. When they saw him they would be sure to make him dance too. “And mind you dance your very best,” added the doctor. “If you dance well and please them they will grant you a petition and you can then beg to be cured; but if you dance badly they will most likely do you some mischief out of spite.” With that he took leave and departed.
Happily the first night of the full moon was near, and at the proper time Hok Lee set out for the wood. With a little trouble he found the tree the doctor had described, and feeling nervous he climbed up into it.
He had hardly settled himself on a branch when he saw the little dwarfs assembling in the moonlight. They came from all sides, till at length there appeared to be hundreds of them. They seemed in high glee and danced and skipped and capered about, while Hok Lee grew so eager watching them that he crept farther and farther along his branch till at length it gave a loud crack. All the dwarfs stood still, and Hok Lee felt as if his heart stood still also.
Then one of the dwarfs called out: “Some one is up in that tree. Come down at once, whoever you are, or we must come and fetch you.”
In great terror Hok Lee proceeded to come down; but he was so nervous that he tripped near the ground and came rolling down in the most absurd manner. When he had picked himself up he came forward with a low bow, and the dwarf who had first spoken and who appeared to be the leader said: “Now, then, who art thou and what brings thee here?”
So Hok Lee told him the sad story of his swelled cheek, and how he had been advised to come to the forest and beg the dwarfs to cure him.
“It is well,” replied the dwarf. “We will see about that. First, however, thou must dance before us. Should thy dancing please us, perhaps we may be able to do something; but shouldst thou dance badly we shall assuredly punish thee, so now take warning and dance away.”
With that, he and all the other dwarfs sat down in a large ring, leaving Hok Lee to dance alone in the middle. He felt half-frightened to death, and besides was a good deal shaken by his fall from the tree and did not feel at all inclined to dance. But the dwarfs were not to be trifled with.
“Begin!” cried their leader, and “Begin!” shouted the rest in chorus.
So in despair Hok Lee began. First he hopped on one foot and then on the other, but he was so stiff and so nervous that he made but a poor attempt, and after a time sank down on the ground and vowed he could dance no more.
The dwarfs were very angry. They crowded round Hok Lee and abused him. “Thou to come here to be cured, indeed!” they cried. “Thou hast brought one big cheek with thee, but thou shalt take away two.” And with that they ran off and disappeared, leaving Hok Lee to find his way home as best he might.
He hobbled away, weary and depressed, and not a little anxious on account of the dwarfs’ threat.
Nor were his fears unfounded, for when he rose next morning his left cheek was swelled up as big as his right, and he could hardly see out of his eyes. Hok Lee felt in despair, and his neighbors jeered at him more than ever. The doctor, too, had disappeared, so there was nothing for it but to try the dwarfs once more.
He waited a month till the first night of the full moon came round again, and then he trudged back to the forest and sat down under the tree from which he had fallen. He had not long to wait. Ere long the dwarfs came trooping out till all were assembled.
“I don’t feel quite easy,” said one. “I feel as if some horrid human being were near us.”
When Hok Lee heard this he came forward and bent down to the ground before the dwarfs, who came crowding round and laughed heartily at his comical appearance with his two big cheeks.
“What dost thou want?” they asked; and Hok Lee proceeded to tell them of his fresh misfortunes and begged so hard to be allowed one more trial at dancing that the dwarfs consented, for there is nothing they love so much as being amused.
Now, Hok Lee knew how much depended on his dancing well, so he plucked up a good spirit and began, first quite slowly and faster by degrees, and he danced so well and gracefully, and made such new and wonderful steps, that the dwarfs were quite delighted with him.
They clapped their tiny hands and shouted:
“Well done, Hok Lee, well done. Go on—dance more, for we are pleased.”
And Hok Lee danced on and on, till he really could dance no more and was obliged to stop.
Then the leader of the dwarfs said: “We are well pleased, Hok Lee, and as a recompense for thy dancing thy face shall he cured. Farewell.”
With these words he and the other dwarfs vanished, and Hok Lee, putting his hands to his face, found to his great joy that his cheeks were reduced to their natural size. The way home seemed short and easy to him, and he went to bed happy and resolved never to go out robbing again.
Next day the whole town was full of the news of Hok’s sudden cure. His neighbors questioned him, but could get nothing from him, except the fact that he had discovered a wonderful cure for all kinds of diseases.
After a time a rich neighbor, who had been ill for some years, came and offered to give Hok Lee a large sum of money if he would tell him how he might get cured. Hok Lee consented on condition that he swore to keep the secret. He did so, and Hok Lee told him of the dwarfs and their dances.
The neighbor went off, carefully obeyed Hok Lee’s directions, and was duly cured by the dwarfs. Then another and another came to Hok Lee to beg his secret, and from each he extracted a vow of secrecy and a large sum of money. This went on for some years, so that at length Hok Lee became a very wealthy man and ended his days in peace and prosperity.
A DREADFUL BOAR
By Adele M. Fielde
A poor Old Woman, who lived with her one little granddaughter in a wood, was out gathering sticks for fuel and found a green stalk of sugar-cane which she added to her bundle. She presently met an elf in the form of a Wild Boar, that asked her for the cane. She declined giving it to him, saying that at her age to stoop and to rise again was to earn what she picked up, and she was going to take the cane home and let her little granddaughter suck its sap.
The Boar, angry at her refusal, said that during the coming night he would come and eat her granddaughter instead of the cane, and went off into the wood.
When the Old Woman reached her cabin she sat down by the door and wailed, for she knew that she had no means of defending herself against the Boar. While she sat crying a vender of needles came along and asked her what was the matter. She told him, but all that he could do for her was to give her a box of needles. The Old Woman stuck the needles thickly over the lower half of the door, on its outer side, and then went on crying.
Just then a Man came along with a basket of crabs, heard her lamentations, and stopped to inquire what was the matter. She told him, but he said he knew no help for her, but he would do the best he could for her by giving her half his crabs. The woman put the crabs in her water jar, behind her door, and again sat down and cried.
A Farmer, who was coming along from the fields, leading his ox, also asked the cause of her distress and heard her story. He said he was sorry he could not think of any way of preventing the evil she expected, but that he would leave his ox to stay all night with her, as it might be a sort of company for her in her loneliness. She led the ox into her cabin, tied it to the head of her bedstead, gave it some straw, and then sat down to cry again.
A courier returning on horseback from a neighboring town was the next to pass her door, and he dismounted to inquire what troubled her. Having heard her tale, he said he would leave his horse to stay with her, and make the ox more contented. So she tied the horse to the foot of the bed, and, thinking how surely evil was coming upon her, she burst out crying anew.
A boy just then came along with a snapping turtle that he had caught and stopped to ask what had happened to her. On learning the cause of her weeping he said it was no use to contend against sprites, but that he would give her his snapping turtle as a proof of his sympathy. She took the turtle, tied it in front of her bedstead, and continued to cry.
Some men who were carrying millstones then came along, inquired into her trouble, and expressed their compassion by giving her a millstone, which they rolled into her back yard. While they were doing this a Man went by carrying hoes and a pickaxe, and he stopped and asked her why she was crying so hard. She told him her grief, and he said he would gladly help her if he could, but he was only a well digger and could do nothing for her except to dig a well. She pointed out a place in the backyard, and he went to work and quickly dug a well.
On his departure the old woman cried again, until a Paper Seller came and inquired what was the matter. When she told him he gave her a large sheet of white paper, as a token of pity, and she laid it smoothly over the mouth of the well.
Nightfall came. The old woman shut and barred her door, put her granddaughter snugly on the wall side of the bed, and then lay down beside her to await the foe.
At midnight the Boar came and threw himself against the door to break it in. The needles wounded him sorely, so that when he had gained an entrance he was heated and thirsty, and went to the water jar to drink.
When he thrust in his snout the crabs attacked him, clung to his bristles, and pinched his ears, till he rolled over and over to free himself.
Then in a rage he approached the front of the bed; but the snapping turtle nipped his tail and made him retreat under the feet of the horse, who kicked him over to the ox, and the ox tossed him back to the horse. Thus beset, he was glad to escape to the back yard to take a rest and to consider the situation.
Seeing a clean paper spread on the ground, he went to lie upon it, and fell into the well. The Old Woman, hearing the fall, rushed out and rolled the millstone down on him and crushed him.
THE FIVE QUEER BROTHERS
By Adele M. Fielde
An old woman had five grown-up sons that looked just alike. The eldest could gulp up the ocean at a mouthful; the second was hard enough to nick steel; the third had extensible legs; the fourth was unaffected by fire; the fifth lived without breathing. They all concealed their peculiar traits, and their neighbors did not know they were queer.