Section 24 of the Green Fairy Book—this is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, auto-volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ashley Jane. The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. Prince Vickle and Fair Helena. There was once upon a time a beautiful child called Helena. Her own mother had died when she was quite a child, and her stepmother was as cruel and unkind to her as she could be. Helena did all she could to gain her love, and performed the heavy work given to her to do cheerfully and well. But her stepmother's heart wasn't in the least touched, and the more the poor girl did, the more she asked her to do. One day she gave Helena twelve pounds of mixed feathers and bade her separate them all before evening, threatening her with heavy punishment if she failed to do so.  And when she had made one little heap of feathers, she sighed so deeply that they all blew apart again. So it went on, and the poor girl grew more and more miserable. She bowed her head in her hands and cried, Is there no one under heaven who will take pity on me? Suddenly a soft voice replied, Be comforted, my child, I have come to help you. Terrified to death, Helena looked up and saw a fairy standing in front of her, who asked in the kindest way possible. Why are you crying, my dear? Helena, who for long had heard no friendly voice, confided her sad tale of woe to the fairy, and told her what the new task she had been given to do was, and how she'd spared of ever accomplishing it.  Lie down and go to sleep, and I'll see that your work is done all right. So Helena lay down, and when she awoke all the feathers were sorted into little bundles, but when she turned to thank the good fairy she had vanished. In the evening her stepmother returned, and was much amazed to find Helena sitting quietly, with her work all finished before her. She praised her diligence, but at the same time racked her brain as to what hard tasks she could set her to do. The next day she told Helena to empty a pond near the house with a spoon which was full of holes. Helena set to work at once, but she very soon found that what her stepmother had told her to do was an impossibility. Full of despair and misery she was in the act of throwing the spoon away, when suddenly the kind fairy stood before her again and asked her why she was so unhappy. When Helena told her of her stepmother's new demand she said, Trust me and I'll do your task for you. Lie down and have a sleep in the meantime. Helena was comforted and lay down, and before you would have believed it possible the fairy roused her gently and told her the pond was empty. Full of joy and gratitude Helena hurried to her stepmother, hoping that now at last her heart would be softened towards her. But the wicked woman was furious at the frustration of her own evil designs, and only thought of what harder things she could get the girl to do. Next morning she ordered her to build before evening a beautiful castle and to furnish it all from garret to basement. Helena sat down on the rocks which had been pointed out to her as the site of the castle, feeling very depressed, at the same time with the lurking hope that the kind fairy would come once more to her aid. And so it turned out. The fairy appeared, promised to build the castle, and told Helena to lie down and go to sleep in the meantime. At the word of the fairy the rocks and stones rose and built themselves into a beautiful castle, and before sunset it was all furnished inside, and left nothing to be desired. You may think how grateful Helena was when she awoke and found her task all finished. But her stepmother was anything but pleased and went through the whole castle from top to bottom to see if she couldn't find some fault for which she could punish Helena. At last she went down into one of the cellars, to so dark that she felt down the steep stairs and was killed on the spot. So Helena was now mistress of the beautiful castle, and lived there in peace and happiness, and soon the noise of her beauty spread abroad, and many rulers came to try and gain her hand. Among them came one Prince Fickle by name, who very quickly won the love affair, Helena. One day as they were sitting happily together under a lime tree in front of the castle, Prince Fickle broke the sad news to Helena that he must return to his parents to get their consent to his marriage. He promised faithfully to come back to her as soon as he could, and begged her to await his return under the lime tree where they had spent so many happy hours. Helena kissed him tenderly at parting on his left cheek, and begged him not to let anyone else kiss him while they were parted, and she promised to sit and wait for him under the lime tree, but she never doubted that the Prince would be faithful to her, and would return as quickly as he could. And so she sat there for three days and three nights under the tree without moving, but when her lover never returned she grew very unhappy, and determined to set out to look for him. She took as many of her jewels as she could carry, and three of her most beautiful dresses, one embroidered with stars, one with moons, and the third with suns, all of pure gold. Far and wide she wandered through the world, but nowhere did she find any trace of her bridegroom. At last she gave up the search in despair. She could not bear to return to her own castle, where she had been so happy with her lover, but determined rather to endure her loneliness and desolation in a strange land.  Every day she drove the cattle to pasture, and all the time she thought of nothing but her faithless bridegroom. She was very devoted to a certain little calf in the herd, and made a great pet of it, feeding it out of her own hands. She taught it to Neil before her, and then she whispered in its ear, Neil, little calf! Neil! Be faithful, and Neil, not like Prince Fickle, who once on the time left his fair Helena under the line. After some years passed in this way, she heard that the daughter of the king of the country she was living in was going to marry a prince called Fickle. Everybody rejoiced at the news except poor Helena, to whom it was a fearful blow, for at the bottom of her heart she had always believed her lover to be true. Now it chanced at the way to the capital led right past the village where Helena was, and often when she was leading her cattle forth to the meadows, Prince Fickle rode past her, without ever noticing the poor herd-girl, so engrossed was he in thoughts of his new bride. Then it occurred to Helena to put his heart to the test, and see if it was possible to recall herself to him. So one day as Prince Fickle rode by, she said to her little calf, Neil, little calf! Neil! Be faithful, and Neil, not like Prince Fickle, who once on the time left his poor Helena under the line. One Prince Fickle heard her voice, it seemed to him to remind him of something, but of what he couldn't remember, for he hadn't heard the words distinctly, as Helena had only spoke them very low and with a shaky voice. Helena herself had been far too moved to let her see what impression her words had made on the prince, and when she looked round he was already far away. But she noticed how slowly he was riding, and how deeply sunk he was in thought, so she didn't quite give herself up as lost. In honour of the approaching wedding a feast lasting many nights was to be given in the capital. Helena placed all her hopes on this, and determined to go to the feast and there to seek out her bridegroom. When evening drew near she stole out of the peasant's cottage secretly, and going to her hiding-place she put on her dress embroidered with the gold suns, and all her jewels and loosed her beautiful golden hair, which up to now she'd always worn under a kerchief, and adorned thus she set out for the town. When she entered the ballroom eyes were turned on her, and everyone marveled at her beauty, but no one knew who she was. Prince Fickle too was quite dazzled by the charms of the beautiful maiden, and never guessed that she had once been his own lady-love. He never left her side all night, and it was with great difficulty that Helena escaped from him in the crowd when it was time to return home. Prince Fickle searched for her everywhere, and longed eagerly for the next night when the beautiful lady had promised to come again. The following evening the fair Helena started early for the feast. This time she wore her dress embroidered with silver moons, and in her hair she placed a silver crescent. Prince Fickle was enchanted to see her again, and she seemed to him even more beautiful than she had the night before. He never left her side and refused to dance with anyone else. He begged her to tell him who she was, but she refused to do so. Then he implored her to return again next evening, and this she promised him she would. On the third evening Prince Fickle was so impatient to see his fair enchantress again that he arrived at the feast hours before it began, and never took his eyes from the door. At last Helena arrived in a dress all covered with gold and silver, stars, and with a girdle of stars round her waist and a band of stars in her hair. Prince Fickle was more in love with her than ever, and begged her once again to tell him her name. Then Helena kissed him silently on the left cheek, and in one moment Prince Fickle recognised his old love. He begged for her forgiveness, and Helena, only too pleased to have gotten back again, did not, you may be sure, keep him waiting very long for her pardon, and so they were married and returned to Helena's castle, where they are no doubt still sitting happily together under the lime tree. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. There was once upon a time a poor woman who had one little daughter called Parsley. She was so called because she liked eating Parsley better than any other food. Indeed, she would hardly eat anything else. Her poor mother hadn't enough money always to be buying Parsley for her, but the child was so beautiful that she could refuse her nothing, and so she went every night to the garden of an old witch who lived near and stole great branches of the coveted vegetable in order to satisfy her daughter. This remarkable taste of the fair Parsley soon became known, and the theft was discovered. The witch called the girl's mother to her and proposed that she should let her daughter come and live with her, and then she could eat as much Parsley as she liked. The mother was quite pleased with this suggestion, and so the beautiful Parsley took up her abode with the old witch. One day three princes, whom their father had sent abroad to travel, came to the town where Parsley lived and perceived the beautiful girl combing and plating her long black hair at the window. In one moment they all fell hopelessly in love with her, and longed ardently to have the girl for their wife. But hardly had they with one breath expressed their desire, then mad with jealousy they drew their swords and all three set upon each other. The struggle was so violent and the noise so loud that the old witch heard it, and said at once, of course Parsley is at the bottom of all this. And when she had convinced herself that this was so, she stepped forward and, full of wrath over the quarrels and feuds Parsley's beauty gave rise to, she cursed the girl and said, I wish she were an ugly toad sitting under a bridge at the other end of the world. Hardly were the words out of her mouth, then Parsley was changed into a toad and vanished from their sight. The princes, now that the cause of their dispute was removed, put up their swords, kissed each other affectionately, and returned to their father. The king was growing old and feeble and wished to yield his scepter and crown in favor of one of his sons, but he couldn't make up his mind which of the three he should appoint as his successor. He determined that fate should decide for him. So he called his three children to him and said, my dear sons, I am growing old and weary of reigning, but I can't make up my mind to which of you three I should yield my crown, for I love you all equally. At the same time I would like the best and cleverest of you to rule over my people. I have, therefore, determined to set you three tasks to do, and the one that performs them best shall be my heir. The first thing I shall ask you to do is to bring me a piece of linen a hundred yards long so fine that it will go through a gold ring. The sons bowed low and, promising to do their best, they started on their journey without further delay. The two elder brothers took many servants and carriages with them, but the youngest set out quite alone. In the short time they came to three crossroads. Two of them were gay and crowded, but the third was dark and lonely. The two elder brothers chose the more frequented ways, but the youngest, bidding them farewell, set out on the dreary road. Wherever linen was to be bought, there the two elder brothers hastened. They loaded their carriages with bales of the finest linen they could find and then returned home. The youngest brother, on the other hand, went on his weary way for many days, and nowhere did he come across any linen that would have done. So he journeyed on, and his spirit sank with every step. At last he came to a bridge which stretched over a deep river flowing through a flat and marshy land. Before crossing the bridge he sat down on the banks of the stream and sighed dismally over his sad fate. Suddenly a misshapen toad crawled out of the swamp and, sitting down opposite him, asked, What's the matter with you, my dear prince? The prince answered impatiently. There's not much good my telling you, puttaki, for you couldn't help me if I did. Don't be too sure of that, replied the toad. Tell me your trouble and we'll see. Then the prince became most confidential and told the little creature why he had been sent out of his father's kingdom.  The prince had no wish to take such an insignificant bundle with him, but he didn't like to hurt puttaki's feelings by refusing it, so he took up the little packet, put it in his pocket, and bade the little toad farewell. Puttaki watched the prince till he was out of sight and then crept back into the water. The further the prince went, the more he noticed that the pocket in which the little roll of linen lay became heavier, and in proportion his heart grew lighter, and so, greatly comforted, he returned to the court of his father and arrived home just at the same time as his brothers with their caravans. The king was delighted to see them all again, and at once drew the ring from his finger and the trial began. In all the wagon-loads there was not one piece of linen, the tenth part of which would go through the ring, and the two elder brothers, who had at first sneered at their youngest brother for returning with no baggage, began to feel rather small. But what were their feelings when he drew a bale of linen out of his pocket, which in fineness, softness, and purity of colour was unsurpassable? The threads were hardly feasible, and it went through the ring without the smallest difficulty, at the same time measuring a hundred yards quite correctly. The father embraced his fortunate son and commanded the rest of the linen to be thrown into the water. Then, turning to his children, he said, Now, dear princes, prepare yourselves for the second task.  The sons were all despair over this demand, but, as they each wished to win the crown, they determined to do their best, and after a very few days set out on their travels again. At the crossroads they separated once more. The youngest went by himself along his lonely way, but this time he felt much more cheerful. Hardly had he sat down under the bridge and heaved a sigh, then Puttakey came out, and sitting down opposite him asked, What's wrong with you now, dear prince? The prince, who this time never doubted the little toad's power to help him, told her his difficulty at once.  She returned, dragging a hazelnut behind her, which she laid at the prince's feet and said, Take this nut home with you and tell your father to crack it very carefully, and you'll see then what will happen. The prince thanked her heartily and went on his way in the best of spirits, while the little Puttakey crept slowly back into the water. When the prince got home he found his brothers had just arrived with great wagon loads of little dogs of all sorts. The king had a walnut shell ready and the trial began, but not one of the dogs the two eldest sons had brought with them would in the least fit into the shell. When they had tried all their little dogs, the youngest son handed his father the hazelnut with a modest bow and begged him to crack it carefully. Hardly had the old king done so than a lovely, tiny dog sprang out of the nut shell and ran about on the king's hand, wagging its tail and barking lustily at all the other little dogs. The joy of the court was great. The father again embraced his fortunate son, commanded the rest of the small dogs to be thrown into the water and drowned, and once more addressed his sons. The two most difficult tasks have been performed. Now listen to the third and last. Whoever brings the fairest wife home with him shall be my heir. This demand seemed so easy and agreeable and the reward was so great that the princes lost no time in setting forth on their travels. At the crossroads the two elder brothers debated if they should go the same way as the youngest, but when they saw how dreary and deserted it looked they made up their minds that it would be impossible to find what they sought in these wilds, and so they stuck to their former paths. The youngest was very depressed this time and said to himself, anything else Puttacky could have helped me in, but this task is quite beyond her power. How could she ever find a beautiful wife for me? Her swamps are wide and empty and no human beings dwell there, only frogs and toads and other creatures of that sort. However, as he sat down as usual under the bridge and this time he sighed from the bottom of his heart.  Oh Puttacky, this time you can't help me, for the task is beyond even your power, replied the prince. Still, answered the toad, you may as well tell me your difficulty, for who knows, but I may be able to help you this time also. The prince then told her the task they had been set to do. I'll help you right enough, dear prince, said the little toad.  With these words Puttacky, with the spring quite unlike her usual slow movements, jumped into the water and disappeared. The prince rose up and went sadly on his way, for he didn't believe it possible that the little toad could really help him in his present difficulty. He had hardly gone a few steps when he heard sound behind him and, looking round, saw a carriage made of cardboard drawn by six big rats coming towards him.  In the carriage itself sat Puttacky, who kissed her hand to the prince out of the window as she passed by. Sunk deep in thought over the fickleness of fortune that had granted him two of his wishes and now seemed about to deny him the last and best, the prince hardly noticed the absurd equipage and still less did he feel inclined to laugh at its comic appearance.  But what was his joy and surprise when suddenly, round the same corner but coming towards him, there appeared a beautiful coach drawn by six splendid horses with outriders, coachmen, footmen, and other servants all in the most gorgeous liveries and seated in the carriage was the most beautiful woman the prince had ever seen and in whom he at once recognized the beautiful parsley, for whom his hearth had formally burned. The carriage stopped when it reached him and the footmen sprang down and opened the door for him. He got in and sat down beside the beautiful parsley and thanked her heartily for her help and told her how much he loved her. And so he arrived at his father's capital at the same moment as his brothers who had returned with many carriage loads of beautiful women. But when they were all led before the king the whole court with one consent awarded the prize of beauty to the fair parsley. The old king was delighted and embraced his thrice fortunate son and his new daughter-in-law tenderly and appointed them as his successors to the throne. But he commanded the other women to be thrown into the water and drowned like the bales of linen and the little dogs. The prince married Puttackie and reigned long and happily with her and if they aren't dead I suppose they are living still. End of Puttackie, read by Aubrey Kirkham, section 26 of the Green Fairy Book. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Aubrey Kirkham, The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. The Story of Hawk Lee and the Dwarves There once lived in a small town in China, a man named Hawk 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 Hawk 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 Hawk 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 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 Hawk Lee. He was such a very respectable, hard-working man. Hawk 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 Hawk Lee? What is the matter with your face?  True enough, Hawk Lee's right cheek was twice the size of his left, and it soon began to feel very uncomfortable.  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. Hawk Lee was at his wits' end what to do. Not only was his cheek 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. Hawk Lee determined to consult him and asked him into his house. After the doctor had examined him carefully, he spoke thus. This, oh Hawk Lee, is no ordinary swelled face. I strongly suspect you have been doing some wrong deed which has calmed down the anger of the spirits on you. None of my drugs will avail to cure you, but if you were willing to pay me handsomely, I can tell you how you may be cured. Then Hawk 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 Hawk 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 games. When the doctor had pocketed the money, he told Hawk 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 Hawk 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 whilst Hawk Lee grew so eager watching them that he crept further and further along his branch till at length it gave a loud crack. All the dwarfs stood still and Hawk Lee felt as if his heart stood still also. Then one of the dwarfs called out. Someone is up in that tree. Come down at once, whoever you are, or we must come and fetch you. In great terror Hawk 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 a poo appeared to be the leader said, Now then, who art thou and what brings thee here? So Hawk 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 should 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 Hawk 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. It 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 Hawk 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 Hawk Lee and abused him. Thou to come here to be cured indeed they cried. Thou hath brought one big cheek with thee, but thou shalt take away two. And with that they ran off and disappeared, leaving Hawk 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 dwarf's threat. Nor were his fears unfounded for when he rose the next morning his left cheek was swelled up as big as his right and he could hardly see out of his eyes. Hawk 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. Air long the dwarfs came trooping out till all were assembled. I do not feel quite easy, said one. I feel as if some horrid human being were near us. When Hawk Lee heard this he came forward and bent down to the ground before the dwarfs who came round and laughed hardly at his comical appearance with his two big cheeks. What dost thou want? they asked. And Hawk Lee proceeded to tell them of his fresh misfortunes and begs 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 Hawk 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, Hawk Lee, well done. Go on, dance more, for we are pleased. And Hawk 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, Hawk Lee, and as a recompense for thy dancing, thy face shall be cured. Farewell. With these words he and the other dwarfs vanished and Hawk 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 Hawk'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 Hawk Lee a large sum of money if he would tell him how he might get cured. Hawk Lee consented on the condition that he swore to keep the secret. He did so and Hawk Lee told him of the dwarfs and their dances. The neighbor went off, carefully obeyed Hawk Lee's directions and was duly cured by the dwarfs. Then another and another came to Hawk Lee to bake 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 Hawk Lee became a very wealthy man and ended his days in peace and prosperity. From the Chinese. The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. End of The Story of Hawk Lee and the Dwarfs. Section 27 of The Green Fairy Book. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Maria Therese. The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. The Story of the Three Bears. Once upon a time there were three bears who lived together in a house of their own in a wood. One of them was a little small wee bear and one was a middle-sized bear and the other was a great huge bear. They had each a pot for their porridge, a little pot for the little small wee bear and a middle-sized pot for the middle bear and a great pot for the great huge bear.  And they had each a bed to sleep in, a little bed for the little small wee bear and a middle-sized bed for the middle bear and a great bed for the great huge bear. One day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and poured it into their porridge pots, they walked out into the woods while the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths by beginning too soon to eat it. And while they were walking, a little old woman came to the house. She could not have been a good, honest old woman, for, first she looked in at the window, and then she peeped in at the keyhole, and seeing nobody in the house, she lifted the latch. The door was not fastened, because the bears were good bears, who did nobody any harm and never suspected that anybody would harm them. So the little old woman opened the door and went in, and well pleased she was when she saw the porridge on the table. If she had been a good little old woman, she would have waited till the bears came home, and then perhaps they would have asked her to breakfast, for they were good bears, a little rough or so as the manner of bears is, but for all that very good natured and hospitable. But she was an impudent, bad old woman, and said about helping herself. So first she tasted the porridge of the great huge bear, and that was too hot for her, and she said a bad word about that, and then she tasted the porridge of the middle bear, and that was too cold for her, and she said a bad word about that, too. And then she went to the porridge of a little small wee bear, and tasted that, and that was near too hot or too cold, but just right, and she liked it so well that she ate it all up. But the naughty old woman said a bad word about the little porridge pot, because it did not hold enough for her. Then the little old woman sat down in the chair of the great huge bear, and that was too hard for her. And then she sat down in the chair of the middle bear, and that was too soft for her, and then she sat down in the chair of the little small wee bear, and that was neither too hard nor too soft, but just right. So she seated herself in it, and there she sat till the bottom of the chair came out, and down came she, plump upon the ground, and the naughty old woman said a wicked word about that, too. Then the little old woman went upstairs into the bed chamber in which the three bears slept, and first she lay down on the bed of the great huge bear, but that was too high at the head for her, and next she lay down on the bed of the middle bear, and that was too high at the foot for her, and then she lay down upon the bed of this little small wee bear, and that was neither too high at the head nor at the foot, but just right. So she covered herself up comfortably, and lay there till she fell fast asleep. By this time the three bearers thought their porridge would be cool enough, so they came home to breakfast. Now the little old woman had left the spoon of the great huge bear standing in his porridge. Somebody has been at my porridge, said the great huge bear and his great craft voice, and when the middle bear looked at his, he saw that the spoon was standing in it, too. They were wooden spoons.  Somebody has been at my porridge, said the middle bear and his middle voice. Then the little small wee bear looked at his, and there was a spoon in the porridge, but the porridge was gone.  Upon this the three bears, seeing that someone had entered their house and eaten up the little small wee bear's breakfast, began to look about them. Now the little old woman had not put the hard cushion straight when she rose from the chair of the great huge bear. Somebody has been sitting in my chair, said the great huge bear and his great, rough, craft voice, and the little old woman had squatted down on the soft cushion of the middle bear.   Then the three bears thought it necessary that they should make further search, so they went upstairs into their bed chamber. Now the little old woman had pulled the pillow of the great huge bear out of its place. Somebody has been lying in my bed, said the great huge bear and his great, rough voice. Then the little old woman had pulled the bolster of the middle bear out of its place. Somebody has been lying in my bed, said the middle bear and his middle voice. And when the little small wee bear came to look at his bed, there was the bolster in its place, and the pillow in its place upon the bolster, and upon the pillow was the little old woman's ugly, dirty head, which was not in its place, for she had no business there. Somebody has been lying in my bed, and here she is!  The little old woman had heard in her sleep the great, rough, rough voice of the great huge bear, but she was so fast asleep that it was no more to her than the roaring of wind or the rumbling of thunder. And she had heard the middle voice of the middle bear, but it was only as if she had heard someone speaking in a dream. But when she heard the little small wee voice of the little small wee bear, it was so sharp and so shrill that it awakened her at once. Up she started, and when she saw the three bears on one side of the bed, she tumbled herself out at the other and ran to the window. Now the window was open, because the bears, like good, tidy bears as they were, always opened their bed chamber window when they got up in the morning. Out the little old woman jumped, and whether she broke her neck in the fall or ran into the wood and was lost there, or found her way out of the wood and was taken up by the constable and sent to the house of correction for a vagrant as she was, I cannot tell. But the three bears never saw anything more of her. And of the story of the three bears. Section 28 of The Green Fairy Book. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. Section 28 of The Green Fairy Book. Recording by Aubrey Kirkham. Once upon a time there lived a king and queen who left one another dearly. Indeed the queen, whose name was Santorina, was so pretty and so kind-hearted that it would have been a wonder if her husband had not been fond of her. While King Grittlean himself was a perfect bundle of good qualities, for the fairy who presided at his christening had summoned the shades of all his ancestors and taken something good from each of them to form his character. Unfortunately, though, she had given him rather too much kindness of heart, which is a thing that generally gets its possessor into trouble. But so far all things had prospered with King Grittlean. However, it was not to be expected such good fortune could last, and before very long the queen had a lovely little daughter who was named Placida. Now the king, who thought that if she resembled her mother in face and mind she would need no other gift, never troubled to ask any of the fairies to her christening, and this offended them mortally, so that they resolved to punish him severely for thus depriving them of their rights. So to the despair of King Grittlean the queen first of all became very ill, and then disappeared altogether. If it had not been for the little princess there is no saying what would have become of him. He was so miserable. But there she was to be brought up, and luckily the good fairy LaLotte, in spite of all that had passed, was willing to come and take charge of her, and of her little cousin, Prince Vivian, who was an orphan and had been placed under the care of his uncle, King Grittlean, when he was quite a baby. Although she neglected nothing that could possibly have been done for them, their characters, as they grew up, plainly proved that education only softens down natural defects, but cannot entirely do away with them. For Placida, who was perfectly lovely, and with a capacity and intelligence which enabled her to learn and understand anything that presented itself, was at the same time as lazy and indifferent as it is possible for anyone to be. While Vivian, on the contrary, was only too lively, and was forever taking up some new thing as promptly tiring of it, and flying off to something else which held his fickle fancy and equally short time. As these two children would possibly inherit the kingdom, it was natural that their people should take a great interest in them, and it fell out that all the tranquil and peace-loving citizens desired that Placida should one day be their queen, while the rash and quarrelsome hoped great things for Vivian. Such a division of ideas seemed to promise civil wars and all kinds of troubles to this state, and even in the palace the two parties frequently came into collision. As for the children themselves, though they were too well brought up to quarrel, still the difference in all their tastes and feelings made it impossible for them to like one another, so there seemed no chance of their ever consenting to be married, which was a pity, since that was the only thing that would have satisfied both parties. Prince Vivian was fully aware of the feeling in his favor, but being too honorable to wish to injure his pretty cousin, and perhaps too impatient and volatile to care to think seriously about anything, he suddenly took it into his head that he would go off by himself in search of adventure. Luckily this idea occurred to him when he was on horseback, for he would certainly have set out on foot rather than lose an instant. As it was, he simply turned his horse's head without another thought than that of getting out of the kingdom as soon as possible. This abrupt departure was a great blow to this state, especially as no one had any idea what had become of the prince. Even King Gridolin, who had never cared for anything since the disappearance of Queen Santorina, was roused by this new loss, and though he could not so much as look at the Princess Placida without shedding floods of tears, he resolved to see for himself what talents and capabilities she showed. He very soon found out that in addition to her natural indolence, she was being as much indulged and spoiled by day as if the fairy had been her grandmother, and was obliged to rummage straight very seriously upon the subject. The lot took his reproaches meekly, and promised faithfully that she would not encourage the Princess in her idleness and indifference any more. From this moment, poor Placida's troubles began. She was actually expected to choose her own dresses, to take care of her jewels, and to find her own amusements. But rather than take so much trouble, she wore the same old frock from morning till night, and never appeared in public if she could possibly avoid it. However this was not all. King Gridolin insisted that the affairs of the kingdom should be explained to her, and that she should attend all the councils and give her opinion upon the matter in hand whenever it was asked of her, and this made her life such a burden to her that she implored LaLotte to take her away from a country where too much was required of an unhappy Princess. The fairy refused at first, with a great show of firmness, but who could resist the tears and entreaties of anyone so pretty as Placida. It came to this in the end, that she transported the Princess just as she was, causally tucked up upon her favorite couch, to her own grotto, and this new disappearance left all the people in despair, and Gridolin went about looking more distracted than ever. But now let us return to Prince Vivian, and see what his restless spirit had brought him to. Though Placida's kingdom was a large one, his horse had carried him gallantly to the limit of it, but it could go no further, and the Prince was obliged to dismount and continue his journey on foot, though this slow mode of progress tired his patients severely. After what seemed to him a very long time, he found himself all alone in a vast forest, so dark and gloomy that he secretly shuddered. However, he chose the most promising looking path he could find, and marched along it courageously at his best speed, but in spite of all his efforts, night fell before he reached the edge of the wood. For some time he stumbled along, keeping to the path as well as he could in the darkness, and just as he was almost wearied out, he saw before him a gleam of light. This sight revived his drooping spirits, and he made sure that he was now close to the shelter and supper he needed so much. But the more he walked towards the light, the further away it seemed. Sometimes he even lost sight of it altogether, and you may imagine how provoked and impatient he was by the time he finally arrived at the miserable cottage from which the light proceeded. He gave a loud knock at the door, and an old woman's voice answered from within, but as she did not seem to be hurrying herself to open it, he redoubled his blows, and demanded to be let in imperiously, quite forgetting that he was no longer in his own kingdom. But all this had no effect on the old woman, who only noticed all the uproar he was making by saying gently, You must have patience. He could hear that she really was coming to open the door to him, only she was so very long about it. Before she chased away her cat, lest it should run away when the door was open, then he heard her talking to herself and made out that her lamp wanted trimming, and that she might see better who it was that knocked, and then that it lacked fresh oil, and she must refill it. So what with one thing and another she was an immense time trotting to and fro, and all the while she now and again bade the prince have patience. When at last he stood within the little hut he saw with despair that it was a picture of poverty, and that not a crumb of anything eatable was to be seen, and when he explained to the old woman that he was dying of hunger and fatigue, she only answered tranquilly that he must have patience. However, she presently showed him a bundle of straw on which he could sleep. But what can I have to eat? cried Prince Vivian sharply. Wait a little, wait a little, she replied. If you will only have patience, I am just going out into the garden to gather some peas. We will shell them at our leisure. Then I will light the fire and cook them, and when they are thoroughly done we can enjoy them peaceably. There is no hurry. I shall have died of starvation by the time all that is done, said the prince roofily. Patience, patience, said the old woman, looking at him with her slow, gentle smile. I can't be hurried. All things come at last to him who waits. You must have heard that often. Prince Vivian was wild with aggravation, but there was nothing to be done. Come, then, said the old woman. You shall hold the lamp to light me while I pick the peas. The prince in his haste snatched it up so quickly that it went out, and it took him a long time to light it again with two little bits of glowing charcoal which he had to dig out from the pile of ashes upon the hearth. However, at last the peas were gathered and shelled, and the fire lighted, but then they had to be carefully counted, since the old woman declared that she would cook fifty-four and no more. In vain did the prince represent to her that he was famished, that fifty-four peas would go no way towards satisfying his hunger, that a few peas, more or less, surely could not matter. It was quite useless. In the end he had to count out the fifty-four, and worse than that, because he dropped one or two in his hurry. He had to begin again from the very first to be sure the number was complete. As soon as they were cooked the old Dom took a pair of scales and a morsel of bread from the cupboard, and was just about to divide it when Prince Vivian, who really could wait no longer, sees the whole piece and ate it up, saying in his turn, patience, you mean that for a joke, said the old woman, as gently as ever, but that is really my day, and some day you will know more about me. Then they ate their twenty-seven peas, and the prince was surprised to find that he wanted nothing more, and he slept assuately upon his bed of straw as he had ever done in his palace. In the morning the old woman gave him milk and bread for his breakfast, which he ate contentedly, rejoicing that there was nothing to be gathered or counted or cooked, and when he had finished he baked her to tell him who she was. That I will, with pleasure, she replied, but it will be a long story. Oh, if it's long I can't listen, cried the prince. But, said she, at your age you should attend to what old people say and learn to have patience. But, but, said the prince in his most impatient tone, old people should not be so long-winded. Tell me what country I have got into, and nothing else. With all my heart, said she, you are in the forest of the black bird. It is here that he utters his oracles. An oracle, cried the prince, oh, I must go and consult him. Thereupon he drew a handful of gold from his pocket and offered it to the old woman, and when she would not take it he threw it down upon the table and was off like a flash of lightning, without even staying to ask the way. He took the first path that presented itself and followed it at the top of his speed, often losing his way or stumbling over some stone or running up against a tree and leaving behind him without regret the cottage which had been as little to his taste as the character of its possessor. After some time he saw in the distance a huge black castle which commanded a view of the whole forest. The prince felt certain that this must be the abode of the oracle, and just as the sun was setting he reached its outermost gates. The whole castle was surrounded by a deep boat and the drawbridge and the gates and even the water and the moat were all of the same somber hue as the walls and towers. Upon the gate hung a huge bell, upon which was written in red letters. Mortal, if thou art curious to know thy fate, strike this bell and submit to what shall be fall thee. The prince, without the smallest hesitation, snatched up a great stone and hammered vigorously upon the bell, which gave forth a deep and terrible sound. The gate flew open and closed again with a thundering clang the moment the prince had passed through it, while from every tower and battlement rose a wheeling, screaming crowd of bats which darkened the whole sky with their multitudes. Anyone but Prince Vivian would have been terrified by such an uncanny sight, but he strode stoutly forward till he reached the second gate, which was open to him by sixty black slaves covered from head to foot in long mantles. He wished to speak to them, but soon discovered that they spoke an utterly unknown language and did not seem to understand a word he said. This was a great aggravation to the prince, who was not accustomed to keep his ideas to himself, and he positively found himself wishing for his old friend patience. However, he had to follow his guides in silence, and they led him into a magnificent hall. The floor was of ebony, the walls of jet, and all the hangings were of black velvet, but the prince looked rounded in vain for something to eat, and then made signs that he was hungry. In the same manner he was respectfully given to understand that he must wait, and after several hours the sixty hooded and shrouded figures reappeared, and conducted him with great ceremony, and also very, very slowly, to a banqueting hall, where they all placed themselves at a long table. The dishes were arranged down the center of it, and with his usual impetuosity the prince seized the one that stood in front of him to draw it nearer, but soon found that it was firmly fixed in its place. Then he looked at his solemn and lugubrious neighbors, and saw that each one was supplied with a long hollow reed through which he slowly sucked up his portion, and the prince was obliged to do the same, though he found it a frightfully tedious process. After supper they returned as they had come to the ebony room, where he was compelled to look on while his companions played interminable games of chess, and not until he was nearly dying of weariness today, slowly and ceremoniously as before, conduct him to his sleeping apartment. The hope of consulting the oracle woke him very early the next morning, and his first demand was to be allowed to present himself before it, but, without replying, his attendants conducted him to a huge marble bath, very shallow at one end and quite deep at the other, and gave him to understand that he was to go into it. The prince, nothing lulled, was for springing at once into deep water, but he was gently but forcibly held back and only allowed to stand where it was about an inch deep, and he was nearly wild with impatience when he found that this process was to be repeated every day in spite of all he could say or do, the water rising higher and higher by inches, so that for sixty days he had to live in perpetual silence, ceremoniously conducted to and fro, supping all his meals through the long reed, and looking on at innumerable games of chess, the game of all others which he detested most. But at last the water rose as high as his gin, and his bath was complete, and that day the slaves in their black robes, and each having a large bat perched upon his head, marched in slow procession with the prince in their midst, chanting a melancholy song, to the iron gate that led into a kind of temple. At the sound of their chanting another band of slaves appeared, and took possession of the unhappy Vivian. They looked to him exactly like the ones he had left, except that they moved more slowly still, and each one held a raven upon his wrist, and their harsh croakings re-echoed through the dismal place. Holding the prince by the arms, not so much to do him honor as to restrain his impatience, they proceeded by slow degrees up the steps of the temple, and when they at last reached the top he thought his long waiting must be at an end. But on the contrary, after slowly enshrouding him in a long black robe like their own, they led him into the temple itself, where he was forced to witness numbers of lengthy rites and ceremonies. By this time Vivian's active impatience had subsided into passive weariness. His yawns were continual and scandalous, but nobody heeded him.  It was of enormous size, and was perched upon a thick bar of iron which ran across from one side of the temple to the other.  Then the curtain fell before it once more, and the prince, after many ceremonies, was presented with a raven which pursed upon his wrist, and was conducted slowly back to the iron gate. Here the raven left him, and he was handed over once more to the care of the first band of slaves, while a large bat flickered down and settled upon his head of its own accord. And so he was taken back to the marble bath, and he had to go through the whole process again, only this time he began in deep water which receded daily, inch by inch. When this was over the slaves escorted him to the outer gate, and took leave of him with every mark of esteem and politeness, to which it is to be feared he responded but indifferently. Since the gate was no sooner opened than he took to his heels and fled away with all his might, his one idea being to put as much space as possible between himself and the dreary place into which he adventured so grashly, just to consult a tedious oracle who after all had told him nothing. He actually reflected for about five seconds on his folly, and came to the conclusion that it might sometimes be advisable to think before one acted. After wandering about for several days until he was weary and hungry, he at last succeeded in finding a way out of the forest, and soon came to a wide and rapid river, which he followed, hoping to find some means of crossing it. And it happened that as the sun rose the next morning, he saw something of a dazzling whiteness moored out in the middle of the stream. Upon looking more attentively at it, he found that it was one of the prettiest little ships he had ever seen, and the boat that belonged to it was made fast to the bank quite close to him. The prince was immediately seized with the most ardent desire to go on board the ship, and shouted loudly to attract the notice of her crew, but no one answered. So he sprang into the little boat and rode away without finding it at all hard work, for the boat was made all of white paper, and was as light as a rose leaf. The ship was made of white paper, too, as the prince presently discovered when he reached it. He found not a soul on board, but there was a very cozy little bed in the cabin, and an ample supply of all sorts of good things to eat and drink, which he made up his mind to enjoy until something new happened. Having been thoroughly well brought up at the court of King Gridolin, of course he understood the art of navigation, but when once he had started, the current carried the vessel down at such a pace that before he knew where he was, the prince found himself out at sea, and a wind springing up behind him just at this moment soon drove him out of side of land. By this time he was somewhat alarmed, and did his best to put the ship about and get back to the river, but wind and tide were too strong for him, and he began to think of the number of times from his childhood up that he had been warned not to meddle with water, but it was too late now to do anything but wish vainly that he had stayed on shore, and to grow heartily weary of the boat and the sea and everything connected with it. These two things, however, he did most thoroughly. To put the finishing touch to his misfortunes, he presently found himself be calmed in mid-ocean, a state of affairs which would be considered trying by the most patient of men, so you can imagine how it affected Prince Vivian. He even came to wishing himself back at the castle of the Blackbird, for there at least he saw some living beings, whereas on board the white-paper ship he was absolutely alone, and could not imagine how he was ever to get away from his weary-some prison. However, after a very long time he did see land, and his impatience to be on shore was so great that he at once flung himself over the ship's side that he might reach it sooner by swimming. But this was quite useless. For spring, as far as he might from the vessel, it was always under his feet again before he reached the water, and he had to resign himself to his fate and wait with what patience he could muster until the winds and waves carried the ship into a kind of natural harbor which ran far into the land. After his long imprisonment at sea, the Prince was delighted with his sight of the great trees which grew down to the very edge of the water, and leaping lightly on shore he speedily lost himself in the thick forest. When he had wandered a long way he stopped to rest beside a clear spring of water, but scarcely had he thrown himself down upon the mossy bank when there was a great rustling in the bushes close by, and out sprang a pretty little gazelle, panting and exhausted, which fell at his feet, gasping out, Oh, Vivian, save me! The Prince in great astonishment leapt to his feet, and had just time to draw his sword before he found himself face to face with a large green lion which had been hotly pursuing the poor little gazelle. Prince Vivian attacked it gallantly and a fierce combat ensued, which, however, ended before long in the Prince's dealing his adversary a terrific blow which felled him to the earth. As he fell the lion whistled loudly three times with such force that the forest rang again, and the sound must have been heard for more than two leagues round, after which having apparently nothing more to do in the world he rolled over on his side and died. The Prince, without paying any further heed to him or to his whistling, returned to the pretty gazelle, saying, Well, are you satisfied now? Since you can talk, pray tell me instantly what all this is about, and how you happen to know my name. Oh, I must rest for a long time before I can talk, she replied, and besides, I very much doubt if you will have leisure to listen, for the affair is by no means finished. In fact, she continued in the same language tone, you had better look behind you now. The Prince turned sharply round into his horror, saw a huge giant approaching with mighty strides crying fiercely, Ooh, has made my lion whistle, I should like to know. I have, replied the Prince boldly, but I can answer for it that he will not do it again.  Thereupon he rushed at the Prince, branching an immense serpent, which was coiled about his wrist. Vivian, without losing his coolness, aimed a terrific blow at it with his sword, but no sooner had did he touch the snake than it changed into a giant, and the giant into a snake, with such rapidity that the Prince felt perfectly giddy, and this happened at least half a dozen times, until at last, with a fortunate stroke, he cut the serpent at halves, and picking up one morsel, flung it with all his force at the nose of the giant, who fell insensible on top of the lion, and in an instant a thick black cloud rolled up which hid them from view, and when it cleared away, they had all disappeared. End of Prince Vivian and Princess Placida, Part 1 Section 29 of the Green Fairy Book This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org.  I will tell you with pleasure, she answered, but where is the hurry? I want you to come back with me to the Green Castle, but I don't want to walk there. It is so far, and walking is so fatiguing. Let us set out at once, then, replied the Prince severely, or else really I shall have to leave you where you are, surely a young and active gazelle like you ought to be ashamed of not being able to walk a few steps. The further off this castle is the faster we ought to walk, but as you don't appear to enjoy that, I will promise that we will go gently, and we can talk by the way. It would be better still if you would carry me, she said sweetly, but as I don't like to see people giving themselves trouble, you may carry me, and make that snail carry you. So saying, she pointed languidly, with one tiny foot at what the Prince had taken for a block of stone, but now he saw that it was a huge snail. What? I ride a snail, cried the Prince. You were laughing at me, and beside we should not get there for a year. Oh, well then don't do it, replied the gazelle. I am quite willing to stay here. The grass is green, and the water clear, but if I were you I should take the advice that was given me, and ride the snail. So though it did not please him at all, the Prince took the gazelle in his arms, and mounted upon the back of the snail, which glided along very peaceably, entirely declining to be hurried by frequent blows from the Prince's heels. Invane did the gazelle represent to him that she was enjoying herself very much, and that this was the easiest mode of conveyance she had ever discovered. Prince Vivian was wild with impatience, and thought that the green castle would never be reached. However, at last, they did get there, and everyone who was in it ran to see the Prince dismount from his singular steed. But what was his surprise, when having at her request sent the gazelle gently down upon the steps which led up to the castle, he saw her suddenly change into a charming princess, and recognized in her his pretty cousin Placida, who greeted him with her usual tranquil sweetness. His delight knew no bounds, and he followed her eagerly up into the castle, impatient to know what strange events had brought her there. But after all, he had to wait for the Prince's story. For the inhabitants of the green lands, hearing that the giant was dead, ran to offer the kingdom to his vanquisher, and Prince Vivian had to listen to various complementary harangues, which took a great deal of time, though he cut them as short as politeness allowed, if not shorter. But at last he was free to rejoin Placida, who at once began the story of her adventures. After he had gone away, said she, they tried to make me learn how to govern the kingdom, which weird me to death, so that I begged and prayed Lelotte to take me away with her. And this she presently did, but very reluctantly. However, having been transported to her grotto upon my favorite couch, I spent several delicious days soothed by the soft green light, which was like a beach-wood in the spring, and by the murmuring of bees in the tinkle of falling water. But alas, Lelotte was forced to go away to a general assembly of the fairies, and she came back in great dismay, telling me that her indulgence to me had cost her dear, for she had been severely reprimanded, and ordered to hand me over to the fairy Murlifage, who was already taking charge of you, and who had been much commended for her management of you. Fine management, indeed, interrupted the Prince. If it is to her I owe all the adventures I have met with.  I can tell you all about my doings afterwards, and then you can judge for yourself. At first I was grieved to hear Lelotte cry, resumed the Princess. But I soon found that grieving was very troublesome, so I thought it better to be calm. And very soon afterwards I saw the fairy Murlifage arrive, mounted upon her great unicorn. She stopped before the grotto, and bad Lelotte bring me out to her, at which she cried worse than ever, and kissed me a dozen times, but she dared not refuse. I was lifted up on to the unicorn behind Murlifage, who said to me, Hold on tight, little girl, if you don't want to break your neck. And indeed I had to hold on with all my might.  However, at last we stopped at a large farm, and the farmer and his wife ran out, as soon as they saw the fairy, and helped us to dismount. I knew that they were really a king and queen, whom the fairies were punishing for their ignorance and idleness. You may imagine that I was by this time half dead with fatigue, but Murlifage insisted upon my feeding for unicorn before I did anything else. To accomplish this I had to climb up a long ladder into the hayloft and bring down, one after the other, twenty-four handfuls of hay. Never, never before did I have such a wearisome task. It makes me shudder to think of it now. And that was not all. In the same way I had to carry the twenty-four handfuls of hay to the stable, and then it was supper time, and I had to wait upon all the others. After that I really thought I should be allowed to go peaceably to my little bed. But oh, dear no. First of all I had to make it, for it was all in confusion, and then I had to make one for the fairy and tuck her in and draw the curtains round her, beside rendering her a dozen little services which I was not at all accustomed to. Finally, when I was perfectly exhausted by all this toil, I was free to go to bed myself, but as I had never before undressed myself and really did not know how to begin, I lay down as I was. Unfortunately the fairy found this out, and just as I was falling into a sweet slumber, she made me get up once more, but even then I managed to escape her vigilance, and only took off my upper robe. Indeed, I may tell you in confidence that I always find disobedience answered very well. One is often scolded, it is true, but then one has been safe some trouble. At the earliest day of dawn Merlefitch woke me and made me take many journeys to the stable to bring her word how her unicorn had slept and how much hay he had eaten and then to find out what time it was and if it was a fine day. I was so slow and did my errand so badly that before she left she called the king and queen and said to them, I am much more pleased with you this year. Continue to make the best of your farm if you wish to get back to your kingdom and also take care of this little princess for me, and teach her to be useful, that when I come I may find her cured of her faults, if she is not. Here she broke off with a significant look and mounting my enemy the unicorn speedily disappeared. Then the king and queen turning to me asked me what I could do. Nothing at all, I assure you, I replied in a tone which really ought to have convinced them, but they went on to describe various employments and tried to discover which of them would be most to my taste. However, at last I persuaded them that to do nothing whatever would be the only thing that would suit me and that if they really wanted to be kind to me they would let me go to bed and to sleep and not tease me about doing anything. To my great joy they not only permitted this, but actually when they made their own meals the queen brought my portion up to me, but early the next morning she appeared at my bedside saying with an apologetic air, my pretty child, I am afraid you must really make up your mind to get up today. I know quite well how delightful it is to be thoroughly idle, for when my husband and I were king and queen we did nothing at all from morning to night, and I sincerely hope that it will not be long before those happy days will come again for us. But at present we have not reached them, nor have you, and you know from what the ferry said that perhaps worse things may happen to us if she is not obeyed. Make haste, I beg of you, and come down to breakfast, for I have put by some delicious cream for you. It was really very tiresome, but as there was no help for it I went down.  In vain did I answer, nothing at all, if it please you, madam. The queen at last gave me a spindle on about four pounds of hemp upon a disc staff, and sent me out to keep the sheep, assuring me that there could not be a pleasant or occupation, and that I could take my ease as much as I pleased. I was forced to set out, very unwillingly, as you may imagine, but I had not walked far before I came to a shady bank in what seemed to me a charming place. I stretched myself causally upon the soft grass, and with the bundle of hemp for a pillow slept as tranquilly as if there were no such things as sheep in the world, while they, for their part, wandered hither and thither at their own sweet will, as if there were no such thing as a shepherdess, planting every field and browsing upon every kind of forbidden daisy, until the peasants, alarmed by the havoc they were making, raised a clamour, which at last reached the ears of the king queen who ran out and seeing the cause of the commotion, hastily collected their flock. And indeed, the sooner the better, since they had to pay for all the damage they had done. As for me I lay still and watched them run, for I was very comfortable, and there I might be still if they had not come up all panting and breathless, and compelled me to get up and follow them. They also reproached me bitterly, but I had hardly tell you that they did not again trust me with the flock. But whatever they found for me to do was always the same thing. I spoiled and mismanaged it all, and was so successful in provoking even the most patient people, that one day I ran away from the farm, for I was really afraid the queen would be obliged to beat me. When I came to the little river in which the king used to fish, I found the boat tied to a tree, and stepping in I infacened it, and floated gently down with the current. The gliding of the boat was so soothing that I did not trouble myself in the least when the queen caught sight of me and ran along the bank, crying, My boat, my boat, husband, come and catch the little princess who was running away with my boat. The current soon carried me out of hearing of her and I dreamed the song of the ripples and the whisper of the trees, until the boat suddenly stopped, and I found it was stuck fast beside a fresh green meadow, and that the sun was rising. In the distance I saw some little houses which seemed to be built in a most singular fashion, but as I was, by this time, very hungry, I set out towards them, but before I had walked many steps I saw that the air was full of shining objects which seemed to be fixed, and yet I could not see what they hung from. I went nearer and saw a silken cord hanging down to the ground, and pulled it just because it was so close to my hand. Instantly the whole meadow resounded to the melodious chiming of a peal of silver bells, and they sounded so pretty that I sat down to listen, and to watch them as they swung shining into the sunbeams. Before they ceased to sound came a great flight of birds, and each one perching upon a bell added its charming song to the concert. As they ended I looked up and saw a tall and stately dame advancing towards me, surrounded and followed by a vast flock of every kind of bird.  "'Who dares to come where I allow no mortal to live, lest my bird should be disturbed. Still, if you were clever at anything,' she added, "'I might be able to put up with your presence.' "'Madam,' I answered, rising, "'you may be very sure that I shall not do anything to alarm your birds. I only beg you, for pity's sake, to give me something to eat.' "'I will do that,' she replied, "'before I send you where you deserve to go.' And thereupon she dispatched six jays, who were her pages, to fetch me all sorts of biscuits, while some of the other birds brought ripe fruits. In fact I had a delicious breakfast, though I do not like to be waited upon so quickly. It is so disagreeable to be hurried.' I began to think I should like very well to stay in this pleasant country, and I said so to the stately lady, but she answered with the greatest disdain. "'Do you think I would keep you here?' "'You!' "'Why, what do you suppose would be the good of you in this country, where everyone is wide awake and busy?' "'No, no. I have shown you all the hospitality you will get from me.' With these words she turned and gave a vigorous pull to the silken rope which I mentioned before, but instead of a malodious chime, there arose a hideous clanging which quite terrified me, and in an instant a huge black bird appeared, which alighted at the fairies' feet, saying in a frightful voice. "'What do you want of me, dear sister?' "'I wish you to take this little princess to my cousin, the giant of the Green Castle at once,' she replied, and bake him from me to make her work day and night upon his beautiful tapestry. "'At these words the great bird snatched me up, regardless of my cries, and flew off at a terrific pace. "'All you were joking, cousin,' interrupted Prince Vivian. "'You mean as slowly as possible.  "'I cannot bear arguing. Perhaps this was not even the same bird. At any rate he carried me off at a prodigious speed, and sent me gently down in this very castle of which you were now the master. We entered by one of the windows, and when the bird had handed me over to the giant, from whom you have been good enough to deliver me, and given the fairies' message, it departed.  "'All well. We must teach you how to work. You won't be the first we have cured off laziness. See how busy all my guests are.' I looked up as he spoke, and saw that an immense gallery ran all round the hall, in which were tapestry frames, spindles, scams of wool, patterns, and all necessary things. Before each frame about a dozen people were sitting, hard at work, at which terrible sight I fainted away, and as soon as I recovered they began to ask me what I could do. It was in vain that I replied as before, and with the strongest desire to be taken at my word, nothing at all. The giant only said, "'Then you must learn to do something. In this world there is enough work for everybody.' It appeared that they were working into the tapestry, all the stories that the fairies like best, and they began to try and teach me to help them. But from the first class where they tried me to begin with, I sank lower and lower, and not even the most simple stitches could I learn. In vain they punished me by all the usable methods. In vain the giant showed me his menagerie, which was entirely composed of children who would not work. Nothing did me any good, and at last I was reduced to drawing water for the dying of the wolves, and even over that I was so slow that this morning the giant flew into a rage and changed me into a gazelle. He was just putting me into the menagerie when I happened to catch sight of a dog, and was seized with such terror that I flew away at my utmost speed and escaped through the outer court of the castle. The giant, fearing that I should be lost altogether, sent his green lion after me, with orders to bring me back, cost what it might, and I should certainly have let myself be caught, or eaten up, or anything, rather than run any further if I had not luckily met you by the fountain. But oh, concluded the princess, how delightful it is once more to be able to sit still in peace. I was so tired of trying to learn things. Prince Vivian said that, for his part, he had been kept a great deal too still, and had not found it at all amusing, and then he recounted all his adventures with breathless rapidity, how he had taken shelter with dame patients, and consulted the oracle, and voyaged in the papership. Then they went hand in hand to release all the prisoners in the castle, and all the princes and princesses, who were in cages in the menagerie. For the instant the green giant was dead they had resumed their natural forms. As you may imagine, they were all very grateful, and Princess Placida entreated them never, never to do another stitch of work so long as they lived, and they promptly made a great bonfire in the courtyard, and solemnly burnt all the embroidery frames and spinning wheels. Then the princess gave them splendid presents, or rather, sat by while Prince Vivian gave them, and there were great rejoicings in the green castle, and everyone did his best to please the prince and princess. But with all their good intentions they often made mistakes. For Vivian and Placida were never of one mind about their plans, so it was very confusing, and they frequently found themselves obeying the prince's orders very, very slowly, and rushing off with lightning speed to do something that the princess did not wish to have done at all, until, by and by, the two cousins took to consulting with, and consoling one another in all these little vexations, and at last came to be so fond of each other that for Placida's sake Vivian became quite patient, and for Vivian's sake Placida made the most unheard of exertions. But now the fairies who had been watching all these proceedings with interest thought it was time to interfere, and ascertain by further trials if this improvement was likely to continue, and if they really loved one another. So they caused Placida to seem to have a violent fever, and Vivian to languish and grow dull, and made each of them very uneasy about the other, and then, finding a moment when they were apart, the fairy, Merlifich, suddenly appeared to Placida and said, I have just seen Prince Vivian, and he seemed to me to be very ill. Alas, yes, madam, she answered, and if you will but cure him, you may take me back to the farm, or bring the green giant to life again, and you shall see how obedient I will be. If you really wish him to recover, said the fairy, you have only to catch the trotting-mouse and the chaffinch on the wing and bring them to me, only remember that time presses. She had hardly finished speaking before the princess was rushing headlong out of the castle gate, and the fairy, after watching her till she was lost to sight, gave a little chuckle and went in search of the prince, who begged her earnestly to send him back to the black castle or to the paper boat if she would but save Placida's life. The fairy shook her head and looked very grave. She quite agreed with him, the princess was in a bad way. But, said she, if you can find the rosy mole and give him to her, she will recover. So now it was the princess turned to set off in a vast hurry, only as soon as he left the castle he happened to go in exactly the opposite direction to the one Placida had taken. Now you can imagine these two devoted lovers hunting night and day. The princess in the woods, always running, always listening, pursuing hotly after two creatures which seemed to her very hard to catch, which she yet never ceased from pursuing. The prince on the other hand, wandering continually across the meadows, his eyes fixed upon the ground, attentive to every movement among the moles. He was forced to walk slowly, slowly upon tiptoe, hardly venturing to breathe. Often he stood for hours motionless as a statue, and if the desire to succeed could have helped him, he would soon have possessed the rosy mole. But alas, all that he caught were black and ordinary, though strange to say he never grew impatient, but always seemed ruddy to begin the tedious hunt again. But this changing of character is one of the most ordinary miracles which love works. Neither the prince nor the princess gave a thought to anything but their quest. It never even occurred to them to wonder what country they had reached. When you may guess how astonished they were one day, when having it last been successful after their long and weary chase, they cried aloud at the same instant. At last I have saved my beloved, and then recognizing each other's voice looked up, and rushed to meet one another with the wildest joy. Surprise kept them silent while for one delicious moment they gazed into each other's eyes, and just then who should come up but King Grydolin, for it was into his kingdom they had accidentally strayed. He recognized them in his turn and greeted them joyfully, but when they turned afterwards to look for the rosy mole, the chaff inch and the trotting mouse, they had vanished, and in their places stood a lovely lady whom they did not know, the blackbird and the green giant. King Grydolin had no sooner set eyes upon the lady than with a cry of joy he clasped her in his arms, for it was no other than his long lost wife, Santorino, about whose imprisonment and fairyland you may perhaps read some day. Then the blackbird and the green giant resumed their natural form, for they were enchanters, and up flew Lulot and Murlifitch in their chariots, and then there was a great kissing and congratulating, for everybody had regained someone he loved, including the enchanters, who loved their natural forms dearly. After this they repaired to the palace, and the wedding of Prince Vivian and Princess Placita was held at once with all the splendor imaginable. King Grydolin and Queen Santorino, after all their experiences, had no further desire to reign, so they retired happily to a peaceful place, leaving their kingdom to the prince and princess, who were beloved by all their subjects, and found their greatest happiness all their lives long in making other people happy. End of Prince Vivian and Princess Placita, Part 2. Section 30 of the Green Fairy Book. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Michael Dang. The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes, and Little Three Eyes. There was once a woman who had three daughters, of whom the eldest was called Little One Eye, because she had only one eye in the middle of her forehead, and the second, Little Two Eyes, because she had two eyes like other people, and the youngest, Little Three Eyes, because she had three eyes, and her third eye was also in the middle of her forehead. But because Little Two Eyes did not look any different from other children, her sisters and mother would not bear her. They would say to her, you with your two eyes are no better than common folk. You don't belong to us. They pushed her here, and threw her wretched clothes there, and gave her to eat only what they had left, and they were as unkind to her as ever they could be. It happened one day that Little Two Eyes had to go out into the fields to take care of the goat. But she was still quite hungry because her sisters had given her so little to eat. So she sat down in the meadow and began to cry, and she cried so much that two little brooks ran out of her eyes. But when she looked up once in her grief, there stood a woman beside her who asked, Little Two Eyes, what are you crying for? Little Two Eyes answered, have I not reason to cry? Because I have two eyes like other people, my sisters and my mother cannot bear me. They pushed me out of one corner into another, and gave me nothing to eat except what they leave.  Then the wise woman said, Little Two Eyes, draw your eyes, and I will tell you something so that you need never be hungry again.  And when you have had enough and don't want the little table anymore, you only have to say, Little Goat, bleed, Little Table, away, and then it will vanish. Then the wise woman went away. But Little Two Eyes thought, I must try it once if what she has told me is true, for I am more hungry than ever.  Then Little Two Eyes said the shortest grace she knew, and went to work and made a good dinner. And when she had had enough, she said, as the wise woman had told her, Little Goat, bleed, Little Table, away, and immediately the table and all that was on it disappeared again. That is a splendid way of housekeeping, thought Little Two Eyes, and she was quite happy and contented. In the evening, when she went home with her goat, she found a little earthenware dish with the food that her sisters had thrown to her, but she did not touch it. The next day she went out again with her goat and left the few scraps which were given to her. The first and second times her sisters did not notice this, but when it happened continually, they remarked it and said, something is the matter with Little Two Eyes, for she always leaves her food now, and she used to gobble up all that was given her. She must have found another means of getting food. So in order to get at the truth, Little One Eye was told to go out with Little Two Eyes when she drove the goat to pasture, and to notice particularly what she got there and whether anyone brought her food and drink. Now when Little Two Eyes was setting out, Little One Eye came up to her and said, I will go into the field with you and see if you take good care of the goat and if you drive him properly to get grass.  Little One Eye sat down, and as she was very much tired by the long walk to which she was not used to and by the hot day and as Little Two Eyes went on singing, Little One Eye, are you awake? Little One Eye, are you asleep?  When Little Two Eyes saw that Little One Eye was asleep and could find out nothing, she said, Little Goat, Bleat, Little Table, appear and sat down at her table and ate and drank as much as she wanted. Then she said again, Little Goat, Bleat, Little Table, away, and in the twinkling of an eye all had vanished.  In the meantime, the goat might have gone far and wide. Come, we will go home. So they went home and Little Two Eyes again left her little dish untouched and Little One Eye cannot tell her mother why she would not eat and said as an excuse, I was so sleepy out of doors. The next day, the mother said to Little Three Eyes, this time you shall go with Little Two Eyes and watch whether she eats anything out in the field and whether anyone brings her food and drink. For eat and drink she must secretly. So Little Three Eyes went to Little Two Eyes and said, I will go with you and see if you take good care of the goat and if you drive him properly to get grass.  Little Three Eyes sat down. She was tied by the walk and the hot day and Little Two Eyes sang the same little song again. Little Three Eyes, are you awake? But instead of singing as she ought to have done, Little Three Eyes, are you asleep? She sang without thinking. Little Two Eyes, are you asleep? She went on singing. Little Three Eyes, are you awake? Little Two Eyes, are you asleep? So that the two eyes of Little Three Eyes fell asleep. But the third, which wasn't spoken to in the Little Rhyme, did not fall asleep. Of course, Little Three Eyes shut that eye also out of cunning to look as if she were asleep, but it was blinking and could see everything quite well. And when Little Two Eyes thought that Little Three Eyes was sound asleep, she said her rhyme. Little Goat, Bleat, Little Table, appear and ate and drank to her heart's content and then made the table go away again by saying, Little Goat, Bleat, Little Table, away. But Little Three Eyes had seen everything. Then Little Two Eyes came to her and Wolkern said, Well, Little Three Eyes, have you been asleep? You watch well. Come, we will go home. When they reached home, Little Two Eyes did not eat again and Little Three Eyes said to the mother, I know now why that proud thing eats nothing. When she said to the goat in the field, Little Goat, Bleat, Little Table, appear, a table stands before her, spread with the best food, much better than we have and when she has had enough, she says, Little Goat, Bleat, Little Table, away and everything disappears again. I saw it all exactly. She made two of my eyes go to sleep with a Little Rhyme, but the one in my forehead remained awake, luckily. Then the envious mother cried out, Will you fare better than we do?  When Little Two Eyes saw this, she went out full of grief and sat down in the meadow and wept bitter tears. Then again the wise woman stood before her and said, Little Two Eyes, what are you crying for? Have I not reason to cry? She answered. The goat, which when I said the Little Rhyme, spread the table so beautifully, my mother has killed, and now I must suffer hunger and want again. The wise woman said, Little Two Eyes, I will give you a good piece of advice. Ask your sisters to give you the heart of the dead goat and bury it in the earth before the house door. That will bring you good luck. Then she disappeared and Little Two Eyes went home and said to her sisters, Dear sisters, do you give me something of my goat? I ask nothing better than its heart. Then they laughed and said, you can have that if you want nothing more. And Little Two Eyes took the heart and buried it in the evening when all was quiet, as the wise woman had told her before the house door. The next morning when they all awoke and came to the house door, there stood a most wonderful tree, which had leaves of silver and fruit of gold growing on it. You never saw anything more lovely and gorgeous in your life. But they did not know how the tree had grown up in the night. Only Little Two Eyes knew that it had sprung from the heart of the goat, for it was standing just where she had buried it in the ground.  Little One Eye climbed up, but just when she was going to take hold of one of the golden apples, the bow sprang out of her hands. And this happened every time, so that she could not break off a single apple, however hard she tried.  You with your three eyes can see round better than Little One Eye, so Little One Eye slid down and Little Three Eyes climbed up, but she was not any more successful. Look round as you might, the golden apples bent themselves back. And last the mother got impatient and climbed up herself, but she was even less successful than Little One Eye and Little Three Eyes in catching hold of the fruit, and only grasped at the empty air. Then Little Two Eye said, I will try once. Perhaps I shall succeed better. The sisters called out, you with your two eyes will no doubt succeed, but Little Two Eyes climbed up, and the golden apples did not jump away from her, but behaved quite properly, so that she could pluck them off one after the other, and brought a whole apron full down with her. The mother took them from her, and instead of behaving better to pour Little Two Eyes, as the auto had done, they were jealous that only she could reach the fruit and behaved still more unkindly to her. It happened one day, that when they were all standing together by the tree, that a young knight came riding along. Be quick, Little Two Eyes, cried the two sisters, creep under this, so that you shall not disgrace us. And they put over poor Little Two Eyes as quickly as possible an empty cask, which was standing close to the tree, and they pushed the golden apples which she had broken off under her feet. When the knight, who was of every handsome young man, growed up, he wanted to see the marvelous tree of gold and silver, and said to the two sisters, Whose is this beautiful tree? Whoever will give me a twig of it shall have whatever she wants. Then Little One Eye and Little Three Eyes answered that the tree belonged to them, and that they would certainly break him off the twig. They gave themselves a great deal of trouble, but in vain. The twig and fruit bent back every time from their hands. Then the knight said, it is very strange that the tree should belong to you, and yet that you have not the power to break anything from it. But they would have that the tree was theirs, and while they were saying this, Little Two Eyes rolled a couple of golden apples from under the cask, so that they lay at the knight's feet, for she was angry with Little One Eye and Little Three Eyes for not speaking the truth. When the knight saw the apples, he was astonished and asked where they came from. Little One Eye and Little Three Eyes answered that they had another sister, but she could not be seen because she had only two eyes, like ordinary people. But the knight demanded to see her, and called out, Little Two Eyes, come forth. Then Little Two Eyes came out from under the cask quite happily, and the knight was astonished at her great beauty, and said, Little Two Eyes, I am sure you can break off a twig from the tree. Yes, answered Little Two Eyes, I can, for the tree is mine. So she climbed up and broke off a small branch with its silver leaves and golden fruit, without any trouble, and gave it to the knight. Then he said, Little Two Eyes, what shall I give you for this? Ah, answered Little Two Eyes, I suffer hunger and thirst, want and sorrow, from early morning till late in the evening. If he would take me with you and free me from this, I should be happy. Then the knight lifted Little Two Eyes on his horse, and took her home to his father's castle. There he gave her beautiful clothes, and food and drink, and because he loved her so much, he married her, and the wedding was celebrated with great joy. When the handsome knight carried Little Two Eyes away with him, the two sisters envied her good luck at first. But the wonderful tree is still with us, after all, they thought, and although we cannot break any fruit from it, everyone will stop and look at it, and will come to us and praise it. Who knows whether we may not reap a harvest from it. But the next morning the tree had flown, and there hopes with it, and when Little Two Eyes looked out of her window, there it stood underneath, to her great delight. Little Two Eyes lived happily for a long time. Once, two poor women came to the castle to beg Alms. Then Little Two Eyes looked at them and recognized both her sisters, Little One Eye and Little Three Eyes, who had become so poor that they came to beg bread at her door. But Little Two Eyes bade them welcome, and was so good to them that they both repented from their hearts of having been so unkind to their sister. Grimm. End of Little One Eye, Little Two Eyes, and Little Three Eyes Recording by Michael Deng Diamond Bar Section 31 of the Green Fairy Book This is the Libervox Recording. All Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libervox.org Recording by Maria Therese The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang Durand and Dringle There was once upon a time a castle in the middle of a thick wood where lived an old woman quite alone, for she was an enchantress. In the daytime she changed herself into a cat or a night owl, but in the evening she became like an ordinary woman again. She could entice animals and birds to come to her and then she would kill and cook them. If any youth came within a hundred paces of the castle, he was obliged to stand still and could not stir from the spot till she set him free. But if a pretty girl came within this boundary, the old enchantress changed her into a bird and shut her up in a wicker cage, which she put in one of the rooms in the castle. She had quite seven thousand of such cages in the castle with very rare birds in them. Now, there was once a maiden called Durand. He was more beautiful than other maidens. She and a youth named Durango who was just as good-looking as she was were betrothed to one another. The greatest delight was to be together and so that they might get a good long talk, they went one evening for a walk in the wood. Take care, said Durango, not to come too close to the castle. It was a beautiful evening. The sun shone brightly between the stems of the trees among the dark green leaves of the forest and the turtle dove staying clearly on the old Maybushes. Durand wept from time to time and she sat herself down in the sunshine and lamented and Durango lamented too. They felt as sad as if they had been condemned to die. They looked round and got quite confused and did not remember which was their way home. Half the sun was still above the mountain and half was behind it when Durango looked through the trees and saw the old wall of the castle quite near them. He was terrified and half dead with fright. Durand sang. My little bird with throats are red. Sing sorrow sorrow sorrow. He sings to the little dove that's dead. Sing sorrow sorrow. Jug jug jug. Durango looked up at Durand. She had been changed into a nightingale who was singing jug jug. A night owl with glowing eyes threw three times around her and screeched three times. Do it, do it, do. Durango could not stir. He stood there like a stone. He could not weep or speak or move hand or foot. Now the sun set. The owl flew into a bush and immediately an old bent woman came out of it. She was yellow-skinned and thin and had large red eyes and hooked nose which met her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the nightingale and carried her away in her hand. Durango could say nothing. He could not move from the spot and the nightingale was gone. I asked the woman came back again and said in a gruff voice. Good evening, Sakyul. When the young moon shines in the basket, you are freed early, Sakyul. Then Durango was free. He fell on his knees before the old woman and implored her to give him back his Durand. But she said he should never have her again and then went away. He called after her. He wept and lamented, but all in vain. What is to become of me? Then he went away and came at last to a strange village where he kept sheep for a long time. He often went round the castle while he was there but never too close. I last he dreamt one night that he had found a blood-red flower which had in its center a beautiful large pearl. He plucked this flower and went with it to the castle. And there everything which he touched with the flower was freed from the enchantment and he got his Durand back again through it. When he awoke in the morning he began to seek mountain in the valley to find such a flower. He saw it for eight days and on the ninth early in the morning he found the blood-red flower. In its center was a large dew drop as big as the most lovely pearl. He traveled day and night with this flower till he arrived at the castle. When he came within a hundred paces of it he did not cease to be able to move but he went on till he reached the gate. He was delighted at his success, touched the great gate with the flower and it sprung open. He entered, passed through the courtyard and then stopped to listen for the singing of the birds. At last he heard it. He went in and found the hall in which was the enchantress and with her seven thousand birds in their wicker cages. When she saw a jeringle she was furious and breathed out poison and garled him but she could not move a step towards him. He took no notice of her and went and looked over the cages of birds but there were many hundredth nightingales and how was he to find his jiren from among them? Whilst he was considering he observed the old witch take up a cage secretly and go with it towards the door. Instantly he sprang after her, touched the cage with the flower and the old woman as well. Now she could no longer work enchantments and there stood jirened for him with her arms round his neck and more beautiful than ever. Then he turned all the other birds again into maidens and he went home with his jirened and they lived along in happy life. Grimm End of Jirened and Jeringle Recording by Maria Therese