Is He the Crafty Ulysses?

Is He the Crafty Ulysses?Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.Balbino and Alaga had only one child, a son named Suguid, who was at first greatly beloved by them. The couple was very rich, and therefore the boy wanted nothing that was not grantedby his parents. Now, the son was a voracious eater. While still a baby, he used to pull up the nails from the floor and eat them, when his mother had no more milk to give him. When all the nails were exhausted, he ate the cotton with which the pillows were stuffed. Thus his parents used to compare him to a mill which consumes sugarcane incessantly. It was not many years before the wealth of the couple had become greatly diminished by the lavish expenditure they had to make for Suguid’s food. So Suguid became more and more intolerable every day. At last his parents decided to cast him away into a place from which he might not be able to find his way home again.One day they led him to a dense forest, and there abandoned him. Luckily for Suguid, a merchant soon passed by that place. The merchant heard him crying, and looked for him. He found the boy, and, being a good-natured man, he took the boy home with him. It was not long before the merchant realized that Suguid was a youth of talent, and he put him in school. In a few weeks the boy showed his superiority over his classmates. In time he beat even the master in points of learning. And so it was that after only five months of studying he left the school, because he found it too small for his expanding intellect.By some mathematical calculation, so the tradition says, or by certain mysterious combinations of characters that he wrote on paper, Suguid discovered one day that a certain princess was hidden somewhere. She had been concealed in such a way that her existence might not be known other than by her parents and the courtiers. Suguid immediately went to the palace of the king, and posted a paper on the palace-door. The paper read as follows: “Your Majesty cannot deny me the fact that he has a daughter secluded somewhere. Your humble servant, Suguid Bociu.”When the king read this note, he became very angry, as he could now no longer keep the secret of his daughter’s existence. He immediately despatched his soldiers to look for the presumptuous Suguid. The soldiers found the boy without much difficulty, and brought him before the king. Bursting with anger, the king said, “Are you the one who was bold enough to post this paper?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Can you prove what you have stated?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Very well,” said the king; “if you can, I will give you my daughter for your bride. If within three days you fail to produce her before me, however, you shall be unconditionally executed.”“I will not fail to fulfil my promise, your Majesty,” said Suguid.After this brief interview, Suguid went directly home. He told the merchant all about his plan to marry the princess.“Why did you dare tell the king that you know where his daughter is,” said the merchant, “when there is no certainty at all of your finding her or of gaining her consent?”“Oh, do not be afraid, father!” said Suguid. “If you will but provide me with twelve of the best goldsmiths that can be found in the whole city, I have no doubt of finding and captivating the fair princess.” As the merchant was a rich man, and influential too, he summoned in an hour all the good goldsmiths that could be found in the city. When all the goldsmiths were assembled, Suguid ordered them to make apurlon. Thispurlonwas made of gold, silver, and precious stones. It was oblong in shape, and hollow inside, being five feet high, three feet deep, and four feet long. Inside it were placed a chair and a lamp. By means of a certain device a person inside thepurloncould breathe. Altogether its construction was so beautiful, that it seemed as if it were intended for the sight of the gods alone.When all was ready, Suguid entered thepurlon, taking with him all the necessary provisions,—food, fine clothes, a poniard, and a guitar. Every part of thepurlonwas so well joined, that no opening whatever could be detected. Before going into thepurlon, Suguid told the merchant to take the goldsmiths home, and not to allow them to leave the house for three days, lest they should reveal the secret. Suguid then ordered five men to carry thepurlontowards the king’s palace. In the mean time he was playing the sweetest piece of music that mortal ears had ever heard. When thepurlonwas near the palace, the king was so charmed by the melodious music, that he asked the master of the carriers to halt for a moment. “Pray,” he said, “are you the owner of that thing?”“No, sir! a certain man in our district owns it,” said the carrier.“Who gave him this divine gift?”“Your Majesty, thispurlon, as it is called, is of a rather mysterious origin. The owner of this (pointing to thepurlon) was a religious man. He was formerly very wealthy; but because he gave much alms to the poor and the needy, his riches soon came to an end. He is now so poor, that his silken clothes have all been exchanged for ragged cotton ones. Early one morning, when he was about to go to the church, he was surprised to find thispurlonat his door, giving out music as you hear it now.”The king turned to the queen, who was sitting beside him, and said, “Oh, how happy our daughter would be if she should hear this enchanting piece of music!—Sir, if you will lend me thispurlon, you may ask of me as a compensation any favor that you may want.”“Your Majesty, I will lend it to you with all my heart, but on condition that it be returned within two days, lest the owner scold me for having given it up.”“Yes,” answered the king, “I will give it back as soon as my daughter has seen it.” The king and queen then immediately ordered that thepurlonbe carried before the princess. The princess’s joy need not be described if we only think how happy we should be if we were in the same situation as she. She was so bewitched by the music, that she told her father never to take it away from her.“O daughter!” said the king, “we have just borrowed thispurlon, and we promised to return it as soon as you had seen it. However, you may have it the whole night.”The king and the queen, convinced that their daughter was quite happy, soon bade her good-by. Before leaving, the king said, “You must not spend the whole night in listening to the sweet music.”“Have no fear, father! I will go to sleep early.”Suguid, who was inside thepurlon, listened very carefully to the retreating footsteps of the king and queen. As soon as he thought they were too far away to hear their daughter in case she should cry out, he came out from thepurlon, poniard in hand. The princess, of course, was very much frightened when she saw Suguid kneeling before her, and saying, “Fair princess, let not my presence cause any fear! In coming here, I had no other purpose than to reveal to you a secret that I have longcherished in my heart. It is universally acknowledged that you are the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the most accomplished living mortal on earth, and as such you have awakened in me an intense love. So, taking no heed of the danger that I might encounter on the way, I ventured to search for you, Lily of the Valley and Rose of the Town—to love you, to adore you as a living saint. Your ring, my adored princess, will give me life or death,—life, because I shall be spared from being beheaded; death, for I have promised your father to present your ring to him within three days as a token of your acceptance of my suit. Therefore, Queen of Beauty, choose, your ring, or my death. I have my poniard ready, and I prefer a hundred times to die—nay, die smiling—at your hands.”The princess was so moved by this passionate speech, that she was mute for some time. After a difficult struggle within herself, she said, “Seeing your intense love and devotion for me, I cannot but consent to your proposal. Were not the matter pressing, however, I should not give my consent in so short a time. Here is the ring, if pleasure it will give you.”Suguid took the ring courteously, and said, “How can I paint in words my pleasure and gratitude! As it were, you have snatched me from the cold hands of Death. You have saved me from the fury of your father. You have given me a heaven of joy. Oh, how shall I describe it! I thank you very much. But now I must leave you and go into thepurlon,—the blessedpurlon,—as it is almost morning. Your father will soon come and take thispurlonaway. But I must let you know this one fact: as soon as I have presented this ring to the king, you will be taken away from here. You will be made my beloved wife.”“Yes, I have no objection to that,” said the princess. Suguid, being thus assured of his success, entered thepurlonagain.Morning came, and the king and queen went to the princess’s palace at ten o’clock. They talked a while with their daughter, who assured them of her great satisfaction with thepurlon. Then they bade her good-by, as there was important business to be transacted that day. They took thepurlonwith them, and returned it to the agent.On the appointed day Suguid appeared at the king’s palace, carrying with him the emblem of his victory,—the ring. On seeing Suguid approaching so cheerfully, the king knew that he was lost. He therefore swooned, but on recovering he realizedthat he had to abide by his promise. He reluctantly caused the princess to be summoned from her palace, and she and Suguid were married together; and it was not long before the king and queen began to appreciate the talent of their humble and lowly son-in-law. By Suguid’s wise policy the kingdom prospered, and for the first time learned what peace really meant.Notes.I have a variant of this story, “Juan the Poor,” told more briefly, narrated by Andrea Mariano, a Tagalog, who heard it from her little brother. It runs thus in outline:—Juan is the son of a beggar. The beggar dies, and the son sells himself to a merchant for money to bury his father properly. After Juan has been educated, he posts this sign in front of the merchant’s house: “I can trace everything that is lost.—Juan.” The king sees the sign, and requires the boy to discover his hidden daughter. Method: Golden carriage with Juan playing music inside; old man hired to push it. The king borrows the carriage and takes it to his daughter. When alone with the princess, Juan declares his love, and she gives him her ring. Next day the carriage is returned to the old man. Juan takes the ring to the king, and is given the princess’s hand in marriage because he is so wise.For another Tagalog variant see “The King, the Princess, and the Poor Boy” (JAFL 20 : 307). This is almost identical with the variant above, except that the hero is advised by two statues how to discover where the princess is. Furthermore, the hero is discoveredwiththe princess after he has gained access to her by means of the gilt carriage and music-box.The fullest form of the story, however, is the Tagalog metrical romance popularly known under the title “Juan Bachiller.” The full title runs as follows: “The Sad Life of a Father and of his Son named Juan, in the Kingdom of Spain. The son sold himself to a merchant on condition that he would bury the corpse of his father.” My copy bears the date 1907, but this is merely a reprint of an older edition. Retana cites an edition dated 1902 (No. 4337) and one before 1898 (No. 4156). The poem is in 12-syllable lines, and contains 350 quatrains. It is still very popular among the Tagalogs, but does not appear to have been printed in any of the other Philippine languages. Inasmuch as there is a close connection between our variants and the verse form of the story, I give a prose paraphrase of the latter:—There was once a poor beggar, Serbando, who had an only son named Juan. They lived in the kingdom of Spain. They had a little hut outside the city in which Serbando used to go to beg their living. One morning, when Juan returned home from school and was playing around their littlehovel, he heard many kinds of birds speaking to him thus: “Juan, be patient and toil in poverty. The time will come when God will reward you.” Then a large bird flew to him, and said, “Juan, leave your little miserable hut; go and seek your fortune.” When his father returned home, Juan told him all about the advice of the birds. Serbando did not believe that birds could talk, and doubted, of course, the truth of what his son said.Now, it happened that Serbando became sick, and after a short time died, leaving his son alone in the world. Poor Juan wept bitterly over the dead body. He did not know what to do. He covered the corpse of his father, and then went crying out through the streets of the city, “Who wants to buy a slave?” A merchant heard him. “I will serve you as long as I live if you will only see to the burial of my dead father,” said Juan to the merchant. Without hesitation the merchant assented, and together they went to the little hut. The merchant ordered and paid for a funeral; there was a procession, a mass, and after the burial a banquet. Then the merchant took the boy to live with him in the city where the king and queen lived. Moreover, this kind merchant sent Juan to school, and treated him as a son. In time Juan took his bachelor’s degree, and was greatly admired and respected by his teachers.One afternoon Juan put a notice on the door of the merchant’s house, which read thus: “If we use money, there is nothing we cannot discover.” It happened that on that same afternoon the king and queen were driving through the streets of the city. The king chanced to fix his eyes on the sign which Juan had put up. He did not believe that the notice was true; and so, when he arrived at the palace, he ordered the merchant to appear before him. The merchant was very much frightened at the summons, so Juan himself went and presented himself before the king.“Is the notice on your door true?” asked the king.“It is true, your Majesty,” said Juan.“Then go and find my daughter. If you can find her, she shall be your wife; if not, you shall lose your head three days from now,” said the king, who hid his daughter in a secret room in the palace.Juan went home and called all the best goldsmiths in the kingdom. He told them to make a little wagon of pure gold, with a secret cell inside in which a man could sit with a musical instrument and play it. The goldsmiths finished the wagon in two days and were paid off. Then Juan called a man and told him to drag this little wagon along the street toward the palace, and then to the plaza. After entering the secret cell with his musical instrument, he told the driver to do as he had been directed. The man began to drag the wagon along the street toward the palace. Men, women, and children crowded both sides of the street to see this wagon of pure gold, which gave out such sweet music. When the wagon passed in front of the palace, the queen was amazed at it. She asked the king to summon the driver before him. So the king called the driver, and asked him to bring the golden wagon into the hall where the queen was.“How much will you sell this for?” asked the queen.“I will not sell it,” answered the driver.“Can you not lend it to me until this afternoon?” said the king; and at last the driver agreed to lend the wagon for a few hours.The queen then dragged the wagon along the hall, and took it to her daughter in the secret room. The princess was delighted. As she pushedit forwards and backwards, sweet music charmed her ears. At last Juan came out of the secret cell in the wagon and knelt before the princess. He told her why he had been led to play this trick, and last of all he told her that he would have lost his life on the morrow if he had not been able to find her. He also began to express his love for her. At first she hesitated to accept his protestations of affection; but at last she accepted him, and gave him one of her rings as a sign that she would marry him. Fearing that he might be caught in the room by some one else, Juan now entered the secret cell of the wagon again.At last the king came, and started to drag the wagon out of the palace to the place where the driver was waiting. Juan suddenly opened the door of the secret cell and stood before the king. “O king!” he said, “now I have accomplished your command. I have found and seen your daughter in the secret room, and she has given me this ring.”The king was amazed, and said to himself that, had he known that the wagon contained any one inside, he would not have allowed it to be brought to his hidden daughter. He said to Juan, “You have told the truth, that anything can be discovered if money is used; but you shall not marry my daughter.”“Remember your promise,” said Juan.“Wait, and I will ask the princess,” said the king. “She might refuse.”“Whether she refuses or not, she is to be my wife, for I have seen her and found her,” replied Juan.“Then you shall have her,” said the king.So Juan was married to the princess, and there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. The king, however, was very sorry that his daughter had married Juan, who had now the right to inherit the throne from him. He could not endure the idea, so he pondered night and day how to kill Juan under some pretext or other. Juan learned of the king’s plot, and decided to leave the city for a while. He asked his wife for permission to go and visit the little hut in which he was born, and at last she consented.One day Juan left the palace and went to the country. While he was walking in the woods near his old home, two birds flew to him. “Juan, take this ring with you: it has magic power, and will furnish you whatever you ask of it,” said the male bird.“Here, take this pen-point, and use it whenever the king asks you to write for him,” said the female bird. “Remember, Juan, you do not need to have any ink; you can use your saliva,” it continued. “Now go back to the kingdom, and do not be afraid of the king’s plots,” said the two birds together. So Juan went back to the palace, and lived there with his wife.One day the king called Juan, and ordered him to write something. The king thought that if Juan should make any mistakes in the writing, he would order him to be executed. Juan used the pen-point which the second bird had given him. The king furnished him only paper, but no ink, so Juan used his saliva. “Write this, Juan,” said the king: “ ‘It is not right that you should be heir to my crown, and successor to the throne.’ ”Juan wrote the words just as the king had given them, and they appeared on the paper in letters of pure gold. The king was very much surprised by this demonstration of Juan’s ability.Then the king continued, “Write this: ‘You ought not to inherit the crown, you who were born in a little village, and whose ancestors are unknown.’ ” Juan wrote this dictation, and, as before, the letters were of pure gold. Again the king said, “Write now what I shall say: ‘You cannot cheat a king like me; you saw my daughter the princess because you were hiding in the wagon of gold.’ ”Juan wrote these words, and they were in pure gold too. The king was now sad, for he could think of no other way in which to detect a fault in Juan. So he dismissed his son-in-law, and showed the queen the golden letters that Juan had written. Juan returned to his apartments.When night came, Juan decided to ask his magic ring for a tower which should stand beside the palace of the king. During the night the tower was erected; it was garrisoned with field-marshals, colonels, and soldiers. Early in the morning the king was surprised to see this tall tower standing beside his palace. He said to himself, “I rule the kingdom, and the kingdom is mine; this tower is in my kingdom, therefore the tower is mine.” So the king went out of the palace and entered the tower. No one saluted him. Then he called Juan, and asked him about the tower. Juan answered that its presence there was due to the will and power of God. When Juan and the king together entered the tower, all the soldiers lined up and saluted Juan, and music was heard everywhere. Everything inside was made of solid silver and gold. The king was astounded at the magic power of his son-in-law, whom he was trying to kill.“Juan,” said the king, “wipe away this tower and erect at this moment a palace in its place. If you can do this, you shall be the king of the whole of Spain.” By the magic power of the ring, Juan was able to fulfil the command, and the tower was changed into a beautiful palace. The council of the kingdom, at the order of the king, agreed to crown Juan and his wife king and queen. There was great rejoicing throughout the realm. The old king and his wife abandoned the palace, and went to live in an abbey, where they died.Juan now called the merchant, his former master, to the palace. The merchant was afraid, for he feared that the king wished to do him mischief; he did not know that Juan was now king. But Juan received him affectionately, and from that time on the merchant, Juan, and the beautiful princess lived together happily in the palace.It will be noticed that the Tagalog poem differs from the three oral versions, in that after Juan has won the first wager from the king, his skill is subjected to further tests, which he comes out of successfully through the aid of magic objects given him by birds. In other words, the poem carries on the folk-tale by adding some additional episodes. The fact that the folk-tales, both Pampango and Tagalog, preserve the simple structure, while only the printed Tagalog verse-form seeks to elaborate and extend the tale, suggests that the simpler form is the older, and that the anonymous author of the romance added to the oral material for mere purposes of length. As it is, the poem is very short compared with the other popular metrical stories, which average well over 2000 lines. The localization of the events in Spain signifies nothing.The story is known also in southern Europe: e.g., in Greece (Von Hahn, No. 13), in Sicily (Gonzenbach, No. 68; Pitrè, Nos. 95, 96). In the Greek version, after the hero has decided to risk his neck for the hand of the hidden princess, he goes to a shepherd and has himself covered with the hide of a lamb with golden fleece. In this disguise he is taken to the princess. In the night he throws off his fleece covering and makes love to the princess, who finally accepts him, and tells him how he may be able to recognize her among her maidens, all of whom, herself included, her father will change into ducks, and then will require the youth to pick out the duck which is the princess. He succeeds, and wins her hand in marriage. In Gonzenbach, No. 68, the hero is one of three brothers who set out to seek their fortunes. They each come in succession to the beautiful city where the king has issued the proclamation that whoever can find his hidden daughter within eight days shall receive her hand in marriage; whoever tries and fails, loses his head. The first two brothers fail and are killed. The youngest, arriving in the city and reading the proclamation, determines to take the risk. He is advised by an old beggar-woman how to find the princess. He has goldsmiths make a golden lion with crystal eyes. The animal is so contrived that it plays continually beautiful music. The hero hides inside, and the old woman takes the lion to the king, to whom she lends it. Then follow the discovery of the princess, her acceptance of the hero’s love, the token given to the hero, etc. The hero is obliged to pick the princess out from among her eleven maids who look exactly like her. In Pitrè, No. 95, we find practically the same incidents recorded: two older sons of a merchant go off to seek their fortunes, and lose their heads because they cannot discover the princess “within a year, a month, and a day.” The youngest comes in turn to the same country, wagers his head, and searches a year and fifteen days in vain. On the advice of an old woman, he has built a goldenàcula(just what this word means I have been unable to determine) large enough to contain a person playing a musical instrument. Four men carry theàculato the palace; discovery of the princess follows. Second test: to pick the princess out from twenty-four maidens dressed exactly alike.In none of these three stories (nor in Pitrè, No. 96, which is a shorter variant of No. 95) does the opening resemble our forms of the tale. Nor in any of the three, either, does the hero bring the wager on himself because of the announcement he makes that he who has gold can discover anything. With this detail, however, compare the couplet which the hero displays in Pitrè, No. 96:—“Cu’ havi dinari fa chiddu chi voli,Cu’ havi bon cavallu va unni voli.”The line “He who has gold can do whatever he wishes” is almost identical with the corresponding line in the Tagalog verse story.It is to be noted that the bride-wager incident in this group of stories resembles closely the same episode in ourNo. 19. The opening of ourNo. 21has been influenced by the setting of the stories of the Carancal group (No. 3).The Reward of Kindness.Narrated by Elisa Cordero, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna, who heard the story from a Tagalog friend.In a certain town there once lived a couple who had never had a child. They had been married for nearly five years, and were very anxious for a son. The name of the wife was Clara; and of the man, Philip.One cloudy night in December, while they were talking by the window of their house, Clara said to her husband that she was going to pray thenovena,1so that Heaven would give them a child. “I would even let my son serve the Devil, if he would but give us a son!” As her husband was willing that she should pray thenovena, Clara began the next day her fervent devotions to the Virgin Mary. She went to church every afternoon for nine days. She carried a small prayer-book with her, and prayed until six o’clock every evening. At last she finished hernovenario;2but no child was born to them, and the couple was disappointed.A month had passed, when, to their great happiness, Clara gave birth to a son. The child they nicknamed Idó. Idó was greatly cherished by his parents, for he was their only child; but he did not care much to stay at home. He early began to show a fondness for travelling abroad, and was always to be found in the dense woods on the outskirts of the town.One afternoon, when the family was gathered together around a small table, talking, a knock was heard at the door. “Come in!” said Philip.“No, I just want to talk with your wife,” answered a hoarse voice from without.Clara, trembling, opened the door, and, to her great surprise, she saw standing there a man who looked like a bear. “A devil, a devil!” she exclaimed, but the Devil pacified her, and said, “Clara, I have come here to get your son you promised me a long time ago. Now that the day has come when your son can be of some service to me, will you deny your promise?”Clara could make no reply at first. She merely called her son; and when he came, she said to the Devil, “Here is my son. Take him, since he is yours.” Idó, who was at this time about seventeen years old, was not frightened by the Devil.“Come,” said the Devil, “and be my follower!” At first Idó refused; but he finally consented to go, because of his mother’s promise.The Devil now took Idó to his cave, far away outside the town. He tried in many ways to tempt Idó, but was unable to do so, because Idó was a youth of strong character. Finally the Devil decided to exchange clothes with him. Idó was obliged to put on the bear-like clothes of the Devil and to give him his own soldier-suit. Then the Devil produced a large bag full of money, and said to Idó, “Take this money and go travelling about the world for seven years. If you live to the end of that time, and spend this money only in doing good, I will set you free. If, however, you spend the money extravagantly, you will have to go to hell with me.” When he had said these words, he disappeared.Idó now began his wanderings from town to town. Whenever people saw him, they were afraid of him, and would refuse to give him shelter; but Idó would give them money from his bag, and then they would gather about him and be kind to him.After many years he happened to come to a town where he saw an old woman summoned before a court of justice. She was accused of owing a sum of money, but was unable to pay her debt and the fine imposed on her. When Idó paid her fine for her and thus released her from prison, the woman could hardly express her gratitude. As most of the other people about were afraid of Idó and he had no place to sleep, this woman decided to take him home with her.Now, this old woman had three daughters. When she reached home with the bear-like man, she called her eldest daughter, and said, “Now, my daughter, here is a man who delivered me from prison. As I can do nothing to reward him for his great kindness, I want you to take him for your husband.”The daughter replied, “Mother, why have you brought this ugly man here? No, I cannot marry him. I can find a better husband.”On hearing this harsh reply, the mother could not say aword. She called her second daughter, and explained her wishes to her; but the younger daughter refused, just as her sister had refused, and she made fun of the man.The mother was very much disappointed, but she was unable to persuade her daughters to marry her benefactor. Finally she determined to try her youngest daughter. When the daughter heard her mother’s request, she said, “Mother, if to have me marry this man is the only way by which you can repay him for his kindness, I’ll gladly marry him.” The mother was very much pleased, but the two older daughters were very angry with their sister. The mother told the man of the decision of her youngest daughter, and a contract was signed between them. But before they were married, the bear-like man asked permission from the girl to be absent for one more year to finish his duty. She consented to his going, and gave him half her ring as a memento.At the end of the year, which was the last of his seven years’ wandering, the bear-like man went to the Devil, and told him that he had finished his duty. The Devil said, “You have beaten me. Now that you have performed your seven years’ wandering, and have spent the money honestly, let us exchange clothes again!” So the man received back his soldierlike suit, which made him look like a knight, and the Devil took back his bear-skin.Then the man returned to Clara’s3house. When his arrival was announced to the family, the two older daughters dressed themselves in their best, for they thought that he was a suitor come to see them; but when the man showed the ring and asked for the hand of Clara’s youngest daughter, the two nearly died with vexation, while the youngest daughter was very happy.Notes.This story is a variant of Grimm, No. 101, “Bear-Skin,” which it follows fairly closely from the point where the hero makes his pact with the Devil. The bibliography of this cycle is fully given in Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 427–435, to which I have nothing to add except this story itself! Our version is the only one so far recorded from the Orient, and there can be no doubt that it is derived directly from Europe. Ralston and Moe seem to detect a relationship between this cycle anda Hindoo saga translated into Chinese in the seventh century, and from the Chinese into French in the middle of the nineteenth century, by the French orientalist Stanislas Julien; but Bolte is of the opinion (p. 435) that there is probably no connection between the two. In any case, to judge from recorded variants, the Tagalog story is an importation from the Occident.And yet there are not a few deviations in our version from the norm, if Grimm’s tale may be considered representative of the cycle. The most important of these is the opening, which is one form of the “Promised Child” opening (see Macculloch, 415 ff.). This formula of a childless couple finally promising in despair to let their child serve even the Devil if they are granted offspring, or to be satisfied with an animal-child or some other monstrosity, is a favorite one in FilipinoMärchen(cf.Nos. 3and variants,19and variant, and23), and its use here may have been influenced by the beginning of the next tale.Other differences may be noted briefly: (1) The compact made between the hero and the Devil does not include the characteristic prohibitions in the European versions; namely, that the hero is not to comb his hair, wash himself, trim his beard, etc., during his seven years of wandering. The Devil seems to rely merely on his bear-suit, which he makes the hero wear, to produce insurmountable difficulties. It may be that the prohibitions mentioned above were omitted because they involved conditions wholly foreign to Filipino conception. The natives take great pride in their hair, and always dress it carefully, are scrupulously clean personally, and are beardless! I can cite no parallel in folk-tales for the condition substituted; i.e., if the wanderer does good with his money, the Devil will have no power over him at the end of the seven years, while, if he spends it extravagantly and foolishly, he goes to hell. Perhaps none need be sought outside of actual experience. (2) The hero is supplied with money from a large bag which the Devil gives him, not from the inexhaustible pockets of a magic green coat, as in Grimm. The mention of the hero’ssoldier-suit, by the way, since nothing has been said earlier in the story of his having followed the profession of arms, is likely a reminiscence of the characteristic opening of the European versions, where it is a poorsoldierwho has the experience with the Devil. (3) The person ransomed by the hero in our story is an old woman instead of an old man. (4) The two disappointed sisters do not kill themselves, and hence the Devil does not reappear at the end of the story,—as he does in Grimm,—and say, “I have now got two souls in the place of thy one!”The broken-ring recognition on the return home is a feature which I believe occurs in no other Filipino folk-tale, but is met with not infrequently in European saga and story (cf. Köhler-Bolte, 117, 584; see also Bolte-Polívka, 1 : 234; 2 : 348).1Novena, a devotion consisting of prayers held for nine consecutive days and asking for some special favor.2Novenario, the act of performing or holding anovena.3There seems to be an inconsistency here,—Clara was the mother of Idó,—or, if not an inconsistency (there might be two Claras), at least a useless and confusing repetition of names.Pedro and Satan.Narrated by Pedro D. L. Sorreta, a Bicol from Catanduanes, who heard the story when he was a little boy.Once upon a time there lived a very rich man, whose wife had never given birth to a child. The couple had already made several pilgrimages, and had spent great sums of money for religious services, in the hope that God might give them a child, even though a sickly one, to inherit their money; but all their efforts were in vain. Disappointed, the man resolved to rely upon Satan for the performance of his wish.One dark night, when he was thinking hard about the matter, he heard a voice say, “Your wish will be quickly fulfilled if you but ask me for it.” The rich man was so filled with joy, that he turned towards the voice and knelt before the invisible speaker: “I will give you my life, and even my wife’s, in return for a son who will be the heir to my riches,” said the man. Meanwhile he perceived in front of him a figure which in an instant assumed the form of Satan. At first he was frightened; but his fear was only momentary, and he was eager to hurry up the agreement with Satan, so that he might receive the child. They therefore made a golden document which provided that the first child of the heir was to be given to the Devil at the age of ten, and that the man and his wife were no longer God’s subjects, but Satan’s.After the agreement had been made, the Devil promised the rich man that his wife would give birth to the longed-for son early the next morning. Then he disappeared. The child was born at the appointed time, and grew wonderfully fast, for in five days he was a full-grown youth. But the parents could not but blame themselves for their impious act. They intended to keep the secret from their son; but they could not do so, for the boy was always asking about the nature of his existence. So when Pedro—they called him by this name—knew of his pitiful lot, he decided not to marry until he had succeeded in wresting the golden document from the hands of Satan.Now, Pedro knew that devils do not like crosses, and cannot even stay where they have to look at them. So one day he asked his mother to make for him two gowns, one having little crosses hanging from it. When these had been finished, Pedro asked his father to give him over to Satan, so that he might work with the demons in hell. No sooner had he expressedhis desire to his father than the Devil appeared and took the young man off to his kingdom. There Pedro was assigned the task of directing the demons in hauling the logs that were to be used for fuel.Pedro ordered the demons to tie a strong piece of rope to one end of a log, and ordered them to pull it while he stood on the other end. Every time he counted “One, two, three!” he would hold up his outer gown; and the demons, seeing the crosses, would run away in confusion. As the devils could not endure Pedro’s conduct, they ran to their master Satan, and asked him to send the young man away, for he could not do any work. The demons could not say anything about Pedro’s trick, however, for they did not dare even speak the word “cross.” Satan then summoned Pedro to his office, and had him work there.Now, the young man had put a strong piece of rope under his gown. One day, when Satan was taking his siesta in a rocking-chair, Pedro tied him fast to the chair. Then he removed his outer gown and woke Satan. The Devil with closed eyes struggled hard to escape; but he could not get loose. So he humbly requested Pedro to go away and leave him alone; but Pedro would neither leave him nor let him go. He demanded the document, but Satan would not give it up. So Pedro kept on frightening the Devil until at last Satan said that he would give up the document if Pedro would release him. Pedro put on his outer robe, and the Devil called his secretary and told him to give the golden document to the young man. Pedro threw the bond into the fire; and when he saw that it was completely melted, he took off his outer robe again, and turned Satan loose. The Devil ran away exceedingly terrified.Then Pedro went home, where his parents received him with great joy. Thus by his cleverness he saved his parents and his future child from a terrible fate.Notes.Like the preceding, this story is doubtless also an importation into the Islands from Europe. It belongs to the general family of tales known as the “Promised Child,” but the narrative takes a turn which leads into a special group of this family. The members of this group are usually not long; and the stories, on the whole, are simple. A parent promises, wittingly or unwittingly, his child to the Devil in return for some service, and gives his signature to the bond. Thechild grows up, and, noticing the dejection of his parents, forces from them the secret of the pact. After equipping himself for the struggle, he sets out for hell to recover the contract. In hell he frightens or annoys the devils in various ways, and becomes such a nuisance that finally the arch-fiend is glad to get rid of him by surrendering the bond.In a Lorraine story (Cosquin, No. LXIV, “Saint Etienne”) “a woman in confinement is visited by a grand gentleman, who persuades her to sell her child to him for a large sum of money. He is to come for the child in six or seven years. One day after a visit of the stranger, the mother begins to suspect him of being the Devil. Her son notices her sadness, and learns the secret that is troubling her. ‘I’m not afraid of the Devil,’ he says boldly, and tells her to provide him with a sheep-skin filled with holy water. Thus equipped, he sets off with the stranger when the time comes, and, reaching hell, so frightens the devils by sprinkling them with the holy water, that they are glad to leave him in peace to return to his mother.” In this story nothing is said of a contract; but in a variant mentioned by Cosquin (2 : 232) a poor man signs in blood a bond according to which he agrees to give up his son at the age of twenty to the rich stranger (Devil in disguise) who has consented to be godfather to the infant. The demon is finally put to flight with the aid of an image of the cross and with the liberal use of holy water.In a Wallachian story (Schott, No. 15) we find a close parallel of incident to our story: the hero, acting on the advice of his school-master, makes some ecclesiastical garments decorated with crosses, and, dressed in these, he goes to hell and knocks on the door. The demons, frightened by the sight, want to drive him away; but he will not go until they surrender the parchment signed by his father. This story differs from ours in the opening, however; for the father is a poor fisherman, and promises unwittingly “that which he loves most at home” in exchange for great riches. At the end of the story, too, is added an episode of the conversion by the hero of a band of robbers. With the beginning of this Wallachian story compare the Italian “Lionbruno” (Crane, No. XXXVI). In a Lithuanian tale (Chodzko, Contes des paysans et des pâtres slaves [Paris 1864], p. 107), the hero, before setting out to meet the Devil, arms himself with holy water and a piece of chalk blessed by the priest. With the chalk he draws a magic circle about him, from which he throws water on the demons until they give up the contract. For other variants, see Cosquin, No. LXXV and notes.Our story, while somewhat crude in style, is well motivated throughout, and has one amusing episode for which I know no parallel, the tying of Satan in his rocking-chair while he is taking his siesta, and then frightening him into compliance, when he wakes, by displaying,before him the cross-embroidered gown. The first task the hero is put to when he enters hell—directing the hauling of logs for fuel—seems more appropriate than that of draining two ponds, which the hero is obliged to perform in Cosquin’s “La Baguette Merveilleuse,” No. LXXV.The testimony of the narrator that he heard the story from one of his playmates when he was a little boy, throws an interesting ray of light on the way in which popular stories circulate in the Philippines.The Devil and the Guachinango.Narrated by José Laki of Guagua, Pampanga. He got the story from his uncle, who heard it from an old Pampango story-teller.There once lived in a suburb of a town a very religious old widow who had a beautiful daughter, Piriang by name. Young men from different parts of the town came to court Piriang, and the mother always preferred the rich to the poor. Whenever Piriang’s friends told her that the man whom she rejected would have been a good match for her, she always answered that she would rather have a devil for a husband than such a man.One day a devil heard Piriang giving this answer to one of her friends. Thus encouraged, he disguised himself as a young man of noble blood, and went to Piriang’s house to offer her his love. The mother and daughter received this stranger with great civility, for he appeared to them to be the son of a nobleman. In the richness of his dress he was unexcelled by his rivals. After he had been going to Piriang’s house for a few weeks, the old widow told him one day to come prepared to be married on the following Tuesday. On the Sunday before the wedding-day he had a long conversation with Piriang. He calmly asked her to take off the cross that she had about her neck, for it made her look ugly, he said. She refused to do so, however, because she had worn this cross ever since she was a child. After he had departed, Piriang told her mother what he had asked her to do.The next day the mother went to the church. She told the priest that Piriang’s bridegroom had ordered her to take off her cross from her neck. The priest said that that man was a devil; for no man, as a son of God, would say that a cross made the one who wore it look ugly. The priest gave the mother a small image of the Virgin Mary. He instructed her to show the image to the bridegroom. If when he beheld it he turned his back on her as she was holding it, she was to tie him around theneck with hercintas.1Then she was to put him in a large jar, and bury him at least twenty-one feet under the ground.The mother went home very much distressed because she had allowed her daughter to become engaged to a devil. She told Piriang not to talk with her bridegroom, because she feared that he was a devil. That night he came with his friend dressed like him. The mother was very gracious to them. They talked about the wedding. When the old woman held up the image of the Virgin Mary, the two men turned their backs on her. She immediately wound hercintasaround the neck of her daughter’s bridegroom, and Piriang came in with the dried tail of a sting-ray in her right hand. She whipped him with this as hard as she could.2Then the two together forced him to get into a large jar. After warning him not to come back to earth again, the old woman covered the jar with a piece of cloth wet with holy water. The other devil suddenly disappeared.The next morning a guachinango3happened to pass by the house of the old woman. She called him in, showed him the jar, and told him to bury it at least twenty-one feet deep. When he asked how much she would pay him, she promised to give him ten pesos. He agreed: so, putting the jar on his right shoulder, he set out. When he reached a quiet place, he heard whispers behind him. He stopped and looked around, but could see nothing. Then he put the jar on the ground to rest a few minutes. Now he discovered that the whispers were coming from inside the jar. He was very much surprised.“What are you?” asked the guachinango. “Are you a man, or a devil?”“I am a devil, my friend,” answered the voice. “The old woman forced me to go into this jar. Be kind to me, my friend, and liberate me!”“I shall obey the old woman in order to get my pay,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you even deeper than twenty-one feet.”“If you will bury me just three feet deep,” said the devil, “I will give you a large sum of money.”“I will bury you just one and a half feet deep, if you can give me much money,” said the guachinango.“I will give you five hundred pesos,” said the devil. “Dig the ground near the stump of that mabolo-tree. There you will find the money in a dirty black purse.”After the guachinango had buried the devil, he went to the mabolo-tree and took the money. Then he went to the nearest village and played casino. As soon as he lost all his money, he returned to the devil. “I have lost all the money you gave me,” he said. “I will now bury you twenty-one feet deep.”“No, do not bury me so deep as that, my friend!” said the devil calmly. “I can give you twice as much money as I gave you before. You will find it in the same place that you found the other.”The guachinango took the money and went to the village again to gamble. Again he lost. He returned to the devil, and asked him angrily why he always lost the money he gave him. “I don’t know,” answered the devil. “I have given you fifteen hundred pesos, but you haven’t even a cent now. You ought to set me free at once.”“Aha! I won’t let you go,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you thirty-nine feet now.”“I have a plan in mind,” said the devil, “which will benefit you extremely; but before I explain my plan, let me ask you if you would like to marry the daughter of the king.”“I have a great desire to be king some day,” said the guachinango; “but how can you make me the husband of a princess, when you are only a devil, and I am nothing but a poor guachinango?”“As soon as you set me free,” said the devil, “I will enter the mouth of the princess and go into her brains. Then I will give her a very painful headache which no physician can cure. The king will make an announcement saying that he who can cure his daughter of her disease shall marry her. When you hear this announcement, go to the palace at once, and offer your services to the king. As soon as you reach the princess, tell me that you have come, and I will leave her immediately. The princess will then recover her former health, and you will be married to her. Do not fail to go to the palace, for I am determined to reward you for your kindness to me.”After the guachinango had liberated the devil, he immediately set out for the city. He had not been there three days when he met a group of soldiers crying that “he who could curethe princess should have her to wife.” The guachinango stopped the soldiers, and said that he could cure the princess. They took him before the king, where a written agreement was made. If he could not cure the princess in three days, he should lose his life; but if he cured her by the end of the third day, he should marry her. The guachinango was then conducted to the room of the princess. When he approached her, he said to the devil that he had come. “You must leave the princess now; for, if you don’t, I shall be executed.” But the devil refused to leave, because he wanted to get revenge. He further told the guachinango that he wanted him to die, for then his soul would go to hell.The guachinango became more and more hopeless. On the morning of the third day he thought of a good plan to get rid of his enemy. He asked the king to order all the bells of the neighboring churches to be tolled, while every one in the palace was to cry out loud, “Here she comes!” While all this noise was going on, the guachinango approached the princess, and told the devil that the old woman was coming with hercintas. When the devil heard this, he was terribly frightened, and left the princess and disappeared. The next day the guachinango was married to the princess.Notes.From the testimony of the narrator, this capital story appears to have been known in Pampanga for some time. The incident of the demon entering the body of the princess, and then leaving at the request of one who has befriended him, occurs in a Tagalog story also, which I will give for the purpose of comparison. While the story is more of a fairy-tale than aMärchenproper, it appears to be a variant of ourNo. 24. Significant differences between the two will be noted, however. The Tagalog story was collected and written down for me by Manuel Reyes, a native of Manila. It runs as follows:Mabait and the Duende.Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”“I am not evil, I am a duende.”“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”“No, my friend gives it to me.”“Who is your friend?”“A duende.”Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.“Give me the money first.”After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”“What! Will the princess be my wife?”“Yes.”“How can you make her love me?”“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”“I am the duende.”“Why are you there?”“Because I want to be here.”“Go away!”“No, I won’t.”“Don’t you know me?”“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”“I am the duende, your friend.”“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.Before attempting to decide anything concerning the provenience of these two tales, we shall first examine versions of the story from other parts of the world. The nearest European analogue that I am familiar with is an Andalusian story printed by Caballero in 1866 (Ingram, 107, “The Demon’s Mother-in-Law”). An outline of the chief elements of this tale follows:—Mother Holofernes, while very neat and industrious, was a terrible termagant and shrew. Her daughter Panfila, on the contrary, was so lazy and thoughtless, that once, when the old woman burnt herself badly because herdaughter was listening to some lads singing outside, instead of helping her mother with the boiling lye for washing, the enraged Mother Holofernes shouted to her offspring, “Heaven grant that you may marry the Evil One himself!” Not long afterward a rich little man presented himself as a suitor for Panfila’s hand. He was accepted by the mother, and preparations for the marriage went forward. The old woman, however, began to dislike the suitor, and, recalling her curse, suspected that he was none other than the Devil himself. Accordingly, on the night of the wedding, she bade Panfila lock all the windows and doors of the room, and then beat her husband with a branch of consecrated olive. So done. The husband tried to escape from his wife by slipping through the key-hole; but his mother-in-law anticipated this move. She caught him in a glass bottle, which she immediately sealed hermetically. Then the old lady climbed to the summit of a mountain, and there deposited the bottle in an out-of-the-way place. Ten years the imp remained there a prisoner, suffering cold, heat, hunger, thirst. One day a soldier, returning to his native town on leave, took a short cut over the mountain, and spied the bottle. When he picked it up, the imp begged to be released, and told him of all he had suffered; but the soldier made a number of conditions,—his release from the army, a four-dollar daily pension, etc.,—and finally the imp promised to enter the body of the daughter of the King of Naples. The soldier was to present himself at court as a physician, and demand any reward he wished to, in return for a cure. So done. The king accepted the services of the soldier, but stipulated that if in three days he had not cured the princess, he should be hanged. The soldier accepted the conditions; but the demon, seeing that he had his arrogant enemy’s life in his hands, and bent on revenge, refused to leave the body of the princess. On the last day, however, the soldier ordered all the bells rung. On the demon’s asking what all the noise was about, the soldier said, “I have ordered your mother-in-law summoned, and she has just arrived.” In great terror the Devil at once quitted the princess, and the soldier was left “in victorious possession of the field.”It will be noticed that the last episode is almost identical with the ending of our story “The Devil and the Guachinango,” while there is a considerable amount of divergence between the two elsewhere.For versions collected before 1860 I am indebted to Benfey’s treatment of this cycle. It is found in his “Pantschatantra,” 1 : 519 ff. I take the liberty of summarizing it in this place, first, because it is the only exhaustive handling of the story I know of; and, second, because Benfey’s brilliant work, while constantly referred to and quoted, has long been out of print, and has never been accessible in English.The occasion for Benfey’s dissertation on this particular tale is the relationship he sees between it and the large family of stories turning on the motive of a marvellous cure, a representative of which is “Pantschatantra,” 5 : 12, “The Miraculous Cure of a Blind Man, a Humpback, and a Three-breasted Princess.”7While the story weare discussing cannot be considered in any sense an offshoot of the Pantschatantra tale, it can scarcely be denied, says Benfey, that between the two there is a definite internal relationship, which is further manifested by the fact that in its later development the latter is actually joined to the former (p. 519).The earliest form of our story is found in the“Cukasaptati,”where it is told as the story for the 45th and 46th nights. In this version,—A Brahman, driven away from home by the malice of his wife, is befriended by a demon who had formerly lived in the Brahman’s house, but who had also fled in fear from her shrewish tongue. The demon enters the body of a princess; and the Brahman, appearing as a conjurer, forces him to leave, in accordance with their pact, and wins half a kingdom and the hand of the princess. The demon now goes to another city where he possesses the queen, an aunt of the Brahman’s new father-in-law. The Brahman, whose reputation as an enchanter has become great, is summoned to cure this queen. When he arrives, the demon threatens and insults him, refusing to leave the queen because they are now quits. The Brahman, however, whispers in the woman’s ear, “My wife is coming here close on my heels, I have come only to warn you;” whereupon the demon, terror-stricken, at once leaves the queen. The Brahman is highly honored.Benfey conjectures that this story must have passed over into the Persian redaction of the “Cukasaptati” (i.e., the “Tūtī-nāmeh”), but what changes it underwent in the transmission cannot yet be determined. The earliest European form of the tale is that found in the Turkish “Forty Vezirs” (trans. by Behrnauer, p. 277).Here a young wood-cutter saves money to buy a rope; but his shrewish wife, thinking that he is going to spend it on a sweetheart, insists on accompanying him to his work in the mountains, so that she can keep him under her eye. In the mountains the husband decides to abandon his wife in a well. He tells her to hold a rope while he descends to fetch a treasure which he pretends is concealed at the bottom; but she is so avaricious, that she insists on being let down first. Then he drops the rope, and returns home free. A few days later, conscience-smitten, he goes back to rescue his wife, and, lowering another rope, he calls to her that he will draw her up; but he hauls a demon to the surface instead. The demon thanks the wood-cutter for rescuing him from a malicious woman “who some days ago descended, and has made my life unbearable ever since.” As in the Cukasaptati story, the demon enters a princess and makes her insane, and the wood-cutter cures her and marries her. Then the demon enters another princess. The wood-cutter is summoned; he has to resort to the well-known trick to force the imp to leave this second maiden.In the Persian form of this story, in the “1001 Days” (Prenzlau ed.), 11 : 247, is added the death-penalty in case the hero fails to perform the second cure, which consists in persuading the spirit, in the form of a snake, to unwind itself from the body of the vezir’s daughter. The hero had already cured the sultan’s daughter and married her.A Serbian story (Wuk, No. 37) is closer to the “Forty Vezirs” version than is the “1001 Days.” The only essential difference is that the opening of the Serbian tale is the well-knownfabliauof the “Meadow that was mowed.”Here the wife falls into a pit. When the husband attempts to draw her out again, a devil appears. The devil is thankful; and, to reward the man, it enters the body of the emperor’s daughter. Here the hero appears, not as an enchanter, but as a physician.Practically identical is the story of “The Bad Wife and the Devil,” in Vogl, “Slowenische Volksmärchen” (Wien, 1837).In a Finnish version of the story (Benfey, 524–525) the hero, as in the preceding, assumes the rôle of a physician.The husband pushes his bad wife into an abyss. When he attempts to draw her out again, another woman appears. She is the Plague.8Out of gratitude for her liberation from that other wicked woman, she proposes to him that they travel together through the world: she, the pest, will make people ill; he, as physician, will cure them. So done. As a result the man becomes rich. But at last he grows weary of his excessive work: so he procures a snappish dog, and puts it in a sack. The next time he is called to the side of a person made sick by the pest, he says to her, “Enter human beings no more: if you do, I will liberate from this sack the woman that tormented you in the abyss,” at the same time irritating the dog so that it growls. The Plague, full of terror, begs him for God’s sake not to set the woman free, and promises to reform.It will be seen that in its method of the “sickness and the cure,” this story is related to Grimm, No. 44, “Godfather Death,” where Death takes the place of the Plague, and where, instead of gratitude, the motive is the godfather relationship of Death toward the hero.This folk-tale, says Benfey (p. 525), was early put into literary form in Europe. Among others, he cites Machiavelli’s excellent version in his story of “Belfagor” (early sixteenth century):—Belfagor, a devil, is sent to earth by his master to live as a married man for ten years, to see whether certain accusations made against women by souls in hell are true or slanderous. Belfagor marries in Florence; but his imperious wife causes him so much bad fortune, that he is compelled to flee from his creditors. A peasant conceals him, and out of gratitude Belfagor tells his rescuer his story, and promises to make him rich by possessing women and allowing himself to be driven out only by the peasant himself. So done. The peasant wins great renown; and at last Belfagor says that his obligations have been fulfilled, and that the peasant must look out for himself if they meet again. The devil now enters the daughter of Ludwig II, King of France. The peasant is summoned to cure her, but isafraid, and refuses. At last he is compelled to go, like the physician, against his will (see Benfey, 515 ff.). Belfagor rages when he sees the peasant, and threatens him vehemently. At last the peasant employs the usual trick: “Your wife is coming!” and the devil flees in consternation, choosing rather to rush back to hell than into the arms of his wife.Benfey considers a Bohemian story in Wenzig’s collection (West-slawische Märchen, Leipzig, 1857, p. 167) to be the best of all the popular versions belonging to this group, and he reproduces it in full (pp. 527–534). This long story we may pass over, since it contains no new features that are found in our story. In fact, it little resembles ours or any of the others, except in general in two or three episodes. Benfey concludes his discussion of this cycle by stating that there have been many other imitations of this tale, and he mentions some of these (p. 534). It may be added that further references will be found in Wilson’s note in his edition of Dunlop, 2 : 188–190.The question of the origin of the Pampango version of this story is not easy to answer definitely, for the reason that it presents details not found in any of the other variants. However, since nearly all the machinery of our story turns on the teachings of the Roman Church, and since thedenouementis practically identical with the ending of Caballero’s Andalusian story, I conclude that in its main outlines our version was derived from Spain. At the same time, I think it likely that the fairy-tale of “Mabait and the Duende” was already existent earlier in the Islands (though this, too, may have been imported), and that the motivation of the spirit’s desire to revenge himself on his tormentor for his avarice and greed was incorporated into theMärchenfrom the fairy-tale. My reasons for thinking the fairy-tale the older are: (1) its crudeness (the good and the bad hero are a very awkward device compared with the combination of qualities in the guachinango); (2) its local references and its native names; (3) its use of native superstitions and beliefs.1Cintas, a holy belt worn by women.2Seenote 1 onpagui(“sting-ray”), p. 43.3Guachinango, defined by the narrator as “vagabond.” The word is used in Cuba as a nickname for the natives of Mexico.4While the termduendeis Spanish, the other three spirits mentioned—tigbalang, iki, mananangal—are good old native demons.5Seefootnote 1, p. 217.6Same as the Cuban isabelina.7The episode of a mutual cure being effected by a blind man and a lame man, we have already met with in two of the versions of ourNo. 6.8It may be noted, in passing, that among certain of the Tagalogs the pestilence (cholera particularly) is personified as an old woman dressed in black, who goes about the town at night knocking for admittance. If any one pays attention to her summons, the result is fatal to him. This evil spirit is known assalut.

Is He the Crafty Ulysses?Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.Balbino and Alaga had only one child, a son named Suguid, who was at first greatly beloved by them. The couple was very rich, and therefore the boy wanted nothing that was not grantedby his parents. Now, the son was a voracious eater. While still a baby, he used to pull up the nails from the floor and eat them, when his mother had no more milk to give him. When all the nails were exhausted, he ate the cotton with which the pillows were stuffed. Thus his parents used to compare him to a mill which consumes sugarcane incessantly. It was not many years before the wealth of the couple had become greatly diminished by the lavish expenditure they had to make for Suguid’s food. So Suguid became more and more intolerable every day. At last his parents decided to cast him away into a place from which he might not be able to find his way home again.One day they led him to a dense forest, and there abandoned him. Luckily for Suguid, a merchant soon passed by that place. The merchant heard him crying, and looked for him. He found the boy, and, being a good-natured man, he took the boy home with him. It was not long before the merchant realized that Suguid was a youth of talent, and he put him in school. In a few weeks the boy showed his superiority over his classmates. In time he beat even the master in points of learning. And so it was that after only five months of studying he left the school, because he found it too small for his expanding intellect.By some mathematical calculation, so the tradition says, or by certain mysterious combinations of characters that he wrote on paper, Suguid discovered one day that a certain princess was hidden somewhere. She had been concealed in such a way that her existence might not be known other than by her parents and the courtiers. Suguid immediately went to the palace of the king, and posted a paper on the palace-door. The paper read as follows: “Your Majesty cannot deny me the fact that he has a daughter secluded somewhere. Your humble servant, Suguid Bociu.”When the king read this note, he became very angry, as he could now no longer keep the secret of his daughter’s existence. He immediately despatched his soldiers to look for the presumptuous Suguid. The soldiers found the boy without much difficulty, and brought him before the king. Bursting with anger, the king said, “Are you the one who was bold enough to post this paper?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Can you prove what you have stated?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Very well,” said the king; “if you can, I will give you my daughter for your bride. If within three days you fail to produce her before me, however, you shall be unconditionally executed.”“I will not fail to fulfil my promise, your Majesty,” said Suguid.After this brief interview, Suguid went directly home. He told the merchant all about his plan to marry the princess.“Why did you dare tell the king that you know where his daughter is,” said the merchant, “when there is no certainty at all of your finding her or of gaining her consent?”“Oh, do not be afraid, father!” said Suguid. “If you will but provide me with twelve of the best goldsmiths that can be found in the whole city, I have no doubt of finding and captivating the fair princess.” As the merchant was a rich man, and influential too, he summoned in an hour all the good goldsmiths that could be found in the city. When all the goldsmiths were assembled, Suguid ordered them to make apurlon. Thispurlonwas made of gold, silver, and precious stones. It was oblong in shape, and hollow inside, being five feet high, three feet deep, and four feet long. Inside it were placed a chair and a lamp. By means of a certain device a person inside thepurloncould breathe. Altogether its construction was so beautiful, that it seemed as if it were intended for the sight of the gods alone.When all was ready, Suguid entered thepurlon, taking with him all the necessary provisions,—food, fine clothes, a poniard, and a guitar. Every part of thepurlonwas so well joined, that no opening whatever could be detected. Before going into thepurlon, Suguid told the merchant to take the goldsmiths home, and not to allow them to leave the house for three days, lest they should reveal the secret. Suguid then ordered five men to carry thepurlontowards the king’s palace. In the mean time he was playing the sweetest piece of music that mortal ears had ever heard. When thepurlonwas near the palace, the king was so charmed by the melodious music, that he asked the master of the carriers to halt for a moment. “Pray,” he said, “are you the owner of that thing?”“No, sir! a certain man in our district owns it,” said the carrier.“Who gave him this divine gift?”“Your Majesty, thispurlon, as it is called, is of a rather mysterious origin. The owner of this (pointing to thepurlon) was a religious man. He was formerly very wealthy; but because he gave much alms to the poor and the needy, his riches soon came to an end. He is now so poor, that his silken clothes have all been exchanged for ragged cotton ones. Early one morning, when he was about to go to the church, he was surprised to find thispurlonat his door, giving out music as you hear it now.”The king turned to the queen, who was sitting beside him, and said, “Oh, how happy our daughter would be if she should hear this enchanting piece of music!—Sir, if you will lend me thispurlon, you may ask of me as a compensation any favor that you may want.”“Your Majesty, I will lend it to you with all my heart, but on condition that it be returned within two days, lest the owner scold me for having given it up.”“Yes,” answered the king, “I will give it back as soon as my daughter has seen it.” The king and queen then immediately ordered that thepurlonbe carried before the princess. The princess’s joy need not be described if we only think how happy we should be if we were in the same situation as she. She was so bewitched by the music, that she told her father never to take it away from her.“O daughter!” said the king, “we have just borrowed thispurlon, and we promised to return it as soon as you had seen it. However, you may have it the whole night.”The king and the queen, convinced that their daughter was quite happy, soon bade her good-by. Before leaving, the king said, “You must not spend the whole night in listening to the sweet music.”“Have no fear, father! I will go to sleep early.”Suguid, who was inside thepurlon, listened very carefully to the retreating footsteps of the king and queen. As soon as he thought they were too far away to hear their daughter in case she should cry out, he came out from thepurlon, poniard in hand. The princess, of course, was very much frightened when she saw Suguid kneeling before her, and saying, “Fair princess, let not my presence cause any fear! In coming here, I had no other purpose than to reveal to you a secret that I have longcherished in my heart. It is universally acknowledged that you are the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the most accomplished living mortal on earth, and as such you have awakened in me an intense love. So, taking no heed of the danger that I might encounter on the way, I ventured to search for you, Lily of the Valley and Rose of the Town—to love you, to adore you as a living saint. Your ring, my adored princess, will give me life or death,—life, because I shall be spared from being beheaded; death, for I have promised your father to present your ring to him within three days as a token of your acceptance of my suit. Therefore, Queen of Beauty, choose, your ring, or my death. I have my poniard ready, and I prefer a hundred times to die—nay, die smiling—at your hands.”The princess was so moved by this passionate speech, that she was mute for some time. After a difficult struggle within herself, she said, “Seeing your intense love and devotion for me, I cannot but consent to your proposal. Were not the matter pressing, however, I should not give my consent in so short a time. Here is the ring, if pleasure it will give you.”Suguid took the ring courteously, and said, “How can I paint in words my pleasure and gratitude! As it were, you have snatched me from the cold hands of Death. You have saved me from the fury of your father. You have given me a heaven of joy. Oh, how shall I describe it! I thank you very much. But now I must leave you and go into thepurlon,—the blessedpurlon,—as it is almost morning. Your father will soon come and take thispurlonaway. But I must let you know this one fact: as soon as I have presented this ring to the king, you will be taken away from here. You will be made my beloved wife.”“Yes, I have no objection to that,” said the princess. Suguid, being thus assured of his success, entered thepurlonagain.Morning came, and the king and queen went to the princess’s palace at ten o’clock. They talked a while with their daughter, who assured them of her great satisfaction with thepurlon. Then they bade her good-by, as there was important business to be transacted that day. They took thepurlonwith them, and returned it to the agent.On the appointed day Suguid appeared at the king’s palace, carrying with him the emblem of his victory,—the ring. On seeing Suguid approaching so cheerfully, the king knew that he was lost. He therefore swooned, but on recovering he realizedthat he had to abide by his promise. He reluctantly caused the princess to be summoned from her palace, and she and Suguid were married together; and it was not long before the king and queen began to appreciate the talent of their humble and lowly son-in-law. By Suguid’s wise policy the kingdom prospered, and for the first time learned what peace really meant.Notes.I have a variant of this story, “Juan the Poor,” told more briefly, narrated by Andrea Mariano, a Tagalog, who heard it from her little brother. It runs thus in outline:—Juan is the son of a beggar. The beggar dies, and the son sells himself to a merchant for money to bury his father properly. After Juan has been educated, he posts this sign in front of the merchant’s house: “I can trace everything that is lost.—Juan.” The king sees the sign, and requires the boy to discover his hidden daughter. Method: Golden carriage with Juan playing music inside; old man hired to push it. The king borrows the carriage and takes it to his daughter. When alone with the princess, Juan declares his love, and she gives him her ring. Next day the carriage is returned to the old man. Juan takes the ring to the king, and is given the princess’s hand in marriage because he is so wise.For another Tagalog variant see “The King, the Princess, and the Poor Boy” (JAFL 20 : 307). This is almost identical with the variant above, except that the hero is advised by two statues how to discover where the princess is. Furthermore, the hero is discoveredwiththe princess after he has gained access to her by means of the gilt carriage and music-box.The fullest form of the story, however, is the Tagalog metrical romance popularly known under the title “Juan Bachiller.” The full title runs as follows: “The Sad Life of a Father and of his Son named Juan, in the Kingdom of Spain. The son sold himself to a merchant on condition that he would bury the corpse of his father.” My copy bears the date 1907, but this is merely a reprint of an older edition. Retana cites an edition dated 1902 (No. 4337) and one before 1898 (No. 4156). The poem is in 12-syllable lines, and contains 350 quatrains. It is still very popular among the Tagalogs, but does not appear to have been printed in any of the other Philippine languages. Inasmuch as there is a close connection between our variants and the verse form of the story, I give a prose paraphrase of the latter:—There was once a poor beggar, Serbando, who had an only son named Juan. They lived in the kingdom of Spain. They had a little hut outside the city in which Serbando used to go to beg their living. One morning, when Juan returned home from school and was playing around their littlehovel, he heard many kinds of birds speaking to him thus: “Juan, be patient and toil in poverty. The time will come when God will reward you.” Then a large bird flew to him, and said, “Juan, leave your little miserable hut; go and seek your fortune.” When his father returned home, Juan told him all about the advice of the birds. Serbando did not believe that birds could talk, and doubted, of course, the truth of what his son said.Now, it happened that Serbando became sick, and after a short time died, leaving his son alone in the world. Poor Juan wept bitterly over the dead body. He did not know what to do. He covered the corpse of his father, and then went crying out through the streets of the city, “Who wants to buy a slave?” A merchant heard him. “I will serve you as long as I live if you will only see to the burial of my dead father,” said Juan to the merchant. Without hesitation the merchant assented, and together they went to the little hut. The merchant ordered and paid for a funeral; there was a procession, a mass, and after the burial a banquet. Then the merchant took the boy to live with him in the city where the king and queen lived. Moreover, this kind merchant sent Juan to school, and treated him as a son. In time Juan took his bachelor’s degree, and was greatly admired and respected by his teachers.One afternoon Juan put a notice on the door of the merchant’s house, which read thus: “If we use money, there is nothing we cannot discover.” It happened that on that same afternoon the king and queen were driving through the streets of the city. The king chanced to fix his eyes on the sign which Juan had put up. He did not believe that the notice was true; and so, when he arrived at the palace, he ordered the merchant to appear before him. The merchant was very much frightened at the summons, so Juan himself went and presented himself before the king.“Is the notice on your door true?” asked the king.“It is true, your Majesty,” said Juan.“Then go and find my daughter. If you can find her, she shall be your wife; if not, you shall lose your head three days from now,” said the king, who hid his daughter in a secret room in the palace.Juan went home and called all the best goldsmiths in the kingdom. He told them to make a little wagon of pure gold, with a secret cell inside in which a man could sit with a musical instrument and play it. The goldsmiths finished the wagon in two days and were paid off. Then Juan called a man and told him to drag this little wagon along the street toward the palace, and then to the plaza. After entering the secret cell with his musical instrument, he told the driver to do as he had been directed. The man began to drag the wagon along the street toward the palace. Men, women, and children crowded both sides of the street to see this wagon of pure gold, which gave out such sweet music. When the wagon passed in front of the palace, the queen was amazed at it. She asked the king to summon the driver before him. So the king called the driver, and asked him to bring the golden wagon into the hall where the queen was.“How much will you sell this for?” asked the queen.“I will not sell it,” answered the driver.“Can you not lend it to me until this afternoon?” said the king; and at last the driver agreed to lend the wagon for a few hours.The queen then dragged the wagon along the hall, and took it to her daughter in the secret room. The princess was delighted. As she pushedit forwards and backwards, sweet music charmed her ears. At last Juan came out of the secret cell in the wagon and knelt before the princess. He told her why he had been led to play this trick, and last of all he told her that he would have lost his life on the morrow if he had not been able to find her. He also began to express his love for her. At first she hesitated to accept his protestations of affection; but at last she accepted him, and gave him one of her rings as a sign that she would marry him. Fearing that he might be caught in the room by some one else, Juan now entered the secret cell of the wagon again.At last the king came, and started to drag the wagon out of the palace to the place where the driver was waiting. Juan suddenly opened the door of the secret cell and stood before the king. “O king!” he said, “now I have accomplished your command. I have found and seen your daughter in the secret room, and she has given me this ring.”The king was amazed, and said to himself that, had he known that the wagon contained any one inside, he would not have allowed it to be brought to his hidden daughter. He said to Juan, “You have told the truth, that anything can be discovered if money is used; but you shall not marry my daughter.”“Remember your promise,” said Juan.“Wait, and I will ask the princess,” said the king. “She might refuse.”“Whether she refuses or not, she is to be my wife, for I have seen her and found her,” replied Juan.“Then you shall have her,” said the king.So Juan was married to the princess, and there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. The king, however, was very sorry that his daughter had married Juan, who had now the right to inherit the throne from him. He could not endure the idea, so he pondered night and day how to kill Juan under some pretext or other. Juan learned of the king’s plot, and decided to leave the city for a while. He asked his wife for permission to go and visit the little hut in which he was born, and at last she consented.One day Juan left the palace and went to the country. While he was walking in the woods near his old home, two birds flew to him. “Juan, take this ring with you: it has magic power, and will furnish you whatever you ask of it,” said the male bird.“Here, take this pen-point, and use it whenever the king asks you to write for him,” said the female bird. “Remember, Juan, you do not need to have any ink; you can use your saliva,” it continued. “Now go back to the kingdom, and do not be afraid of the king’s plots,” said the two birds together. So Juan went back to the palace, and lived there with his wife.One day the king called Juan, and ordered him to write something. The king thought that if Juan should make any mistakes in the writing, he would order him to be executed. Juan used the pen-point which the second bird had given him. The king furnished him only paper, but no ink, so Juan used his saliva. “Write this, Juan,” said the king: “ ‘It is not right that you should be heir to my crown, and successor to the throne.’ ”Juan wrote the words just as the king had given them, and they appeared on the paper in letters of pure gold. The king was very much surprised by this demonstration of Juan’s ability.Then the king continued, “Write this: ‘You ought not to inherit the crown, you who were born in a little village, and whose ancestors are unknown.’ ” Juan wrote this dictation, and, as before, the letters were of pure gold. Again the king said, “Write now what I shall say: ‘You cannot cheat a king like me; you saw my daughter the princess because you were hiding in the wagon of gold.’ ”Juan wrote these words, and they were in pure gold too. The king was now sad, for he could think of no other way in which to detect a fault in Juan. So he dismissed his son-in-law, and showed the queen the golden letters that Juan had written. Juan returned to his apartments.When night came, Juan decided to ask his magic ring for a tower which should stand beside the palace of the king. During the night the tower was erected; it was garrisoned with field-marshals, colonels, and soldiers. Early in the morning the king was surprised to see this tall tower standing beside his palace. He said to himself, “I rule the kingdom, and the kingdom is mine; this tower is in my kingdom, therefore the tower is mine.” So the king went out of the palace and entered the tower. No one saluted him. Then he called Juan, and asked him about the tower. Juan answered that its presence there was due to the will and power of God. When Juan and the king together entered the tower, all the soldiers lined up and saluted Juan, and music was heard everywhere. Everything inside was made of solid silver and gold. The king was astounded at the magic power of his son-in-law, whom he was trying to kill.“Juan,” said the king, “wipe away this tower and erect at this moment a palace in its place. If you can do this, you shall be the king of the whole of Spain.” By the magic power of the ring, Juan was able to fulfil the command, and the tower was changed into a beautiful palace. The council of the kingdom, at the order of the king, agreed to crown Juan and his wife king and queen. There was great rejoicing throughout the realm. The old king and his wife abandoned the palace, and went to live in an abbey, where they died.Juan now called the merchant, his former master, to the palace. The merchant was afraid, for he feared that the king wished to do him mischief; he did not know that Juan was now king. But Juan received him affectionately, and from that time on the merchant, Juan, and the beautiful princess lived together happily in the palace.It will be noticed that the Tagalog poem differs from the three oral versions, in that after Juan has won the first wager from the king, his skill is subjected to further tests, which he comes out of successfully through the aid of magic objects given him by birds. In other words, the poem carries on the folk-tale by adding some additional episodes. The fact that the folk-tales, both Pampango and Tagalog, preserve the simple structure, while only the printed Tagalog verse-form seeks to elaborate and extend the tale, suggests that the simpler form is the older, and that the anonymous author of the romance added to the oral material for mere purposes of length. As it is, the poem is very short compared with the other popular metrical stories, which average well over 2000 lines. The localization of the events in Spain signifies nothing.The story is known also in southern Europe: e.g., in Greece (Von Hahn, No. 13), in Sicily (Gonzenbach, No. 68; Pitrè, Nos. 95, 96). In the Greek version, after the hero has decided to risk his neck for the hand of the hidden princess, he goes to a shepherd and has himself covered with the hide of a lamb with golden fleece. In this disguise he is taken to the princess. In the night he throws off his fleece covering and makes love to the princess, who finally accepts him, and tells him how he may be able to recognize her among her maidens, all of whom, herself included, her father will change into ducks, and then will require the youth to pick out the duck which is the princess. He succeeds, and wins her hand in marriage. In Gonzenbach, No. 68, the hero is one of three brothers who set out to seek their fortunes. They each come in succession to the beautiful city where the king has issued the proclamation that whoever can find his hidden daughter within eight days shall receive her hand in marriage; whoever tries and fails, loses his head. The first two brothers fail and are killed. The youngest, arriving in the city and reading the proclamation, determines to take the risk. He is advised by an old beggar-woman how to find the princess. He has goldsmiths make a golden lion with crystal eyes. The animal is so contrived that it plays continually beautiful music. The hero hides inside, and the old woman takes the lion to the king, to whom she lends it. Then follow the discovery of the princess, her acceptance of the hero’s love, the token given to the hero, etc. The hero is obliged to pick the princess out from among her eleven maids who look exactly like her. In Pitrè, No. 95, we find practically the same incidents recorded: two older sons of a merchant go off to seek their fortunes, and lose their heads because they cannot discover the princess “within a year, a month, and a day.” The youngest comes in turn to the same country, wagers his head, and searches a year and fifteen days in vain. On the advice of an old woman, he has built a goldenàcula(just what this word means I have been unable to determine) large enough to contain a person playing a musical instrument. Four men carry theàculato the palace; discovery of the princess follows. Second test: to pick the princess out from twenty-four maidens dressed exactly alike.In none of these three stories (nor in Pitrè, No. 96, which is a shorter variant of No. 95) does the opening resemble our forms of the tale. Nor in any of the three, either, does the hero bring the wager on himself because of the announcement he makes that he who has gold can discover anything. With this detail, however, compare the couplet which the hero displays in Pitrè, No. 96:—“Cu’ havi dinari fa chiddu chi voli,Cu’ havi bon cavallu va unni voli.”The line “He who has gold can do whatever he wishes” is almost identical with the corresponding line in the Tagalog verse story.It is to be noted that the bride-wager incident in this group of stories resembles closely the same episode in ourNo. 19. The opening of ourNo. 21has been influenced by the setting of the stories of the Carancal group (No. 3).The Reward of Kindness.Narrated by Elisa Cordero, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna, who heard the story from a Tagalog friend.In a certain town there once lived a couple who had never had a child. They had been married for nearly five years, and were very anxious for a son. The name of the wife was Clara; and of the man, Philip.One cloudy night in December, while they were talking by the window of their house, Clara said to her husband that she was going to pray thenovena,1so that Heaven would give them a child. “I would even let my son serve the Devil, if he would but give us a son!” As her husband was willing that she should pray thenovena, Clara began the next day her fervent devotions to the Virgin Mary. She went to church every afternoon for nine days. She carried a small prayer-book with her, and prayed until six o’clock every evening. At last she finished hernovenario;2but no child was born to them, and the couple was disappointed.A month had passed, when, to their great happiness, Clara gave birth to a son. The child they nicknamed Idó. Idó was greatly cherished by his parents, for he was their only child; but he did not care much to stay at home. He early began to show a fondness for travelling abroad, and was always to be found in the dense woods on the outskirts of the town.One afternoon, when the family was gathered together around a small table, talking, a knock was heard at the door. “Come in!” said Philip.“No, I just want to talk with your wife,” answered a hoarse voice from without.Clara, trembling, opened the door, and, to her great surprise, she saw standing there a man who looked like a bear. “A devil, a devil!” she exclaimed, but the Devil pacified her, and said, “Clara, I have come here to get your son you promised me a long time ago. Now that the day has come when your son can be of some service to me, will you deny your promise?”Clara could make no reply at first. She merely called her son; and when he came, she said to the Devil, “Here is my son. Take him, since he is yours.” Idó, who was at this time about seventeen years old, was not frightened by the Devil.“Come,” said the Devil, “and be my follower!” At first Idó refused; but he finally consented to go, because of his mother’s promise.The Devil now took Idó to his cave, far away outside the town. He tried in many ways to tempt Idó, but was unable to do so, because Idó was a youth of strong character. Finally the Devil decided to exchange clothes with him. Idó was obliged to put on the bear-like clothes of the Devil and to give him his own soldier-suit. Then the Devil produced a large bag full of money, and said to Idó, “Take this money and go travelling about the world for seven years. If you live to the end of that time, and spend this money only in doing good, I will set you free. If, however, you spend the money extravagantly, you will have to go to hell with me.” When he had said these words, he disappeared.Idó now began his wanderings from town to town. Whenever people saw him, they were afraid of him, and would refuse to give him shelter; but Idó would give them money from his bag, and then they would gather about him and be kind to him.After many years he happened to come to a town where he saw an old woman summoned before a court of justice. She was accused of owing a sum of money, but was unable to pay her debt and the fine imposed on her. When Idó paid her fine for her and thus released her from prison, the woman could hardly express her gratitude. As most of the other people about were afraid of Idó and he had no place to sleep, this woman decided to take him home with her.Now, this old woman had three daughters. When she reached home with the bear-like man, she called her eldest daughter, and said, “Now, my daughter, here is a man who delivered me from prison. As I can do nothing to reward him for his great kindness, I want you to take him for your husband.”The daughter replied, “Mother, why have you brought this ugly man here? No, I cannot marry him. I can find a better husband.”On hearing this harsh reply, the mother could not say aword. She called her second daughter, and explained her wishes to her; but the younger daughter refused, just as her sister had refused, and she made fun of the man.The mother was very much disappointed, but she was unable to persuade her daughters to marry her benefactor. Finally she determined to try her youngest daughter. When the daughter heard her mother’s request, she said, “Mother, if to have me marry this man is the only way by which you can repay him for his kindness, I’ll gladly marry him.” The mother was very much pleased, but the two older daughters were very angry with their sister. The mother told the man of the decision of her youngest daughter, and a contract was signed between them. But before they were married, the bear-like man asked permission from the girl to be absent for one more year to finish his duty. She consented to his going, and gave him half her ring as a memento.At the end of the year, which was the last of his seven years’ wandering, the bear-like man went to the Devil, and told him that he had finished his duty. The Devil said, “You have beaten me. Now that you have performed your seven years’ wandering, and have spent the money honestly, let us exchange clothes again!” So the man received back his soldierlike suit, which made him look like a knight, and the Devil took back his bear-skin.Then the man returned to Clara’s3house. When his arrival was announced to the family, the two older daughters dressed themselves in their best, for they thought that he was a suitor come to see them; but when the man showed the ring and asked for the hand of Clara’s youngest daughter, the two nearly died with vexation, while the youngest daughter was very happy.Notes.This story is a variant of Grimm, No. 101, “Bear-Skin,” which it follows fairly closely from the point where the hero makes his pact with the Devil. The bibliography of this cycle is fully given in Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 427–435, to which I have nothing to add except this story itself! Our version is the only one so far recorded from the Orient, and there can be no doubt that it is derived directly from Europe. Ralston and Moe seem to detect a relationship between this cycle anda Hindoo saga translated into Chinese in the seventh century, and from the Chinese into French in the middle of the nineteenth century, by the French orientalist Stanislas Julien; but Bolte is of the opinion (p. 435) that there is probably no connection between the two. In any case, to judge from recorded variants, the Tagalog story is an importation from the Occident.And yet there are not a few deviations in our version from the norm, if Grimm’s tale may be considered representative of the cycle. The most important of these is the opening, which is one form of the “Promised Child” opening (see Macculloch, 415 ff.). This formula of a childless couple finally promising in despair to let their child serve even the Devil if they are granted offspring, or to be satisfied with an animal-child or some other monstrosity, is a favorite one in FilipinoMärchen(cf.Nos. 3and variants,19and variant, and23), and its use here may have been influenced by the beginning of the next tale.Other differences may be noted briefly: (1) The compact made between the hero and the Devil does not include the characteristic prohibitions in the European versions; namely, that the hero is not to comb his hair, wash himself, trim his beard, etc., during his seven years of wandering. The Devil seems to rely merely on his bear-suit, which he makes the hero wear, to produce insurmountable difficulties. It may be that the prohibitions mentioned above were omitted because they involved conditions wholly foreign to Filipino conception. The natives take great pride in their hair, and always dress it carefully, are scrupulously clean personally, and are beardless! I can cite no parallel in folk-tales for the condition substituted; i.e., if the wanderer does good with his money, the Devil will have no power over him at the end of the seven years, while, if he spends it extravagantly and foolishly, he goes to hell. Perhaps none need be sought outside of actual experience. (2) The hero is supplied with money from a large bag which the Devil gives him, not from the inexhaustible pockets of a magic green coat, as in Grimm. The mention of the hero’ssoldier-suit, by the way, since nothing has been said earlier in the story of his having followed the profession of arms, is likely a reminiscence of the characteristic opening of the European versions, where it is a poorsoldierwho has the experience with the Devil. (3) The person ransomed by the hero in our story is an old woman instead of an old man. (4) The two disappointed sisters do not kill themselves, and hence the Devil does not reappear at the end of the story,—as he does in Grimm,—and say, “I have now got two souls in the place of thy one!”The broken-ring recognition on the return home is a feature which I believe occurs in no other Filipino folk-tale, but is met with not infrequently in European saga and story (cf. Köhler-Bolte, 117, 584; see also Bolte-Polívka, 1 : 234; 2 : 348).1Novena, a devotion consisting of prayers held for nine consecutive days and asking for some special favor.2Novenario, the act of performing or holding anovena.3There seems to be an inconsistency here,—Clara was the mother of Idó,—or, if not an inconsistency (there might be two Claras), at least a useless and confusing repetition of names.Pedro and Satan.Narrated by Pedro D. L. Sorreta, a Bicol from Catanduanes, who heard the story when he was a little boy.Once upon a time there lived a very rich man, whose wife had never given birth to a child. The couple had already made several pilgrimages, and had spent great sums of money for religious services, in the hope that God might give them a child, even though a sickly one, to inherit their money; but all their efforts were in vain. Disappointed, the man resolved to rely upon Satan for the performance of his wish.One dark night, when he was thinking hard about the matter, he heard a voice say, “Your wish will be quickly fulfilled if you but ask me for it.” The rich man was so filled with joy, that he turned towards the voice and knelt before the invisible speaker: “I will give you my life, and even my wife’s, in return for a son who will be the heir to my riches,” said the man. Meanwhile he perceived in front of him a figure which in an instant assumed the form of Satan. At first he was frightened; but his fear was only momentary, and he was eager to hurry up the agreement with Satan, so that he might receive the child. They therefore made a golden document which provided that the first child of the heir was to be given to the Devil at the age of ten, and that the man and his wife were no longer God’s subjects, but Satan’s.After the agreement had been made, the Devil promised the rich man that his wife would give birth to the longed-for son early the next morning. Then he disappeared. The child was born at the appointed time, and grew wonderfully fast, for in five days he was a full-grown youth. But the parents could not but blame themselves for their impious act. They intended to keep the secret from their son; but they could not do so, for the boy was always asking about the nature of his existence. So when Pedro—they called him by this name—knew of his pitiful lot, he decided not to marry until he had succeeded in wresting the golden document from the hands of Satan.Now, Pedro knew that devils do not like crosses, and cannot even stay where they have to look at them. So one day he asked his mother to make for him two gowns, one having little crosses hanging from it. When these had been finished, Pedro asked his father to give him over to Satan, so that he might work with the demons in hell. No sooner had he expressedhis desire to his father than the Devil appeared and took the young man off to his kingdom. There Pedro was assigned the task of directing the demons in hauling the logs that were to be used for fuel.Pedro ordered the demons to tie a strong piece of rope to one end of a log, and ordered them to pull it while he stood on the other end. Every time he counted “One, two, three!” he would hold up his outer gown; and the demons, seeing the crosses, would run away in confusion. As the devils could not endure Pedro’s conduct, they ran to their master Satan, and asked him to send the young man away, for he could not do any work. The demons could not say anything about Pedro’s trick, however, for they did not dare even speak the word “cross.” Satan then summoned Pedro to his office, and had him work there.Now, the young man had put a strong piece of rope under his gown. One day, when Satan was taking his siesta in a rocking-chair, Pedro tied him fast to the chair. Then he removed his outer gown and woke Satan. The Devil with closed eyes struggled hard to escape; but he could not get loose. So he humbly requested Pedro to go away and leave him alone; but Pedro would neither leave him nor let him go. He demanded the document, but Satan would not give it up. So Pedro kept on frightening the Devil until at last Satan said that he would give up the document if Pedro would release him. Pedro put on his outer robe, and the Devil called his secretary and told him to give the golden document to the young man. Pedro threw the bond into the fire; and when he saw that it was completely melted, he took off his outer robe again, and turned Satan loose. The Devil ran away exceedingly terrified.Then Pedro went home, where his parents received him with great joy. Thus by his cleverness he saved his parents and his future child from a terrible fate.Notes.Like the preceding, this story is doubtless also an importation into the Islands from Europe. It belongs to the general family of tales known as the “Promised Child,” but the narrative takes a turn which leads into a special group of this family. The members of this group are usually not long; and the stories, on the whole, are simple. A parent promises, wittingly or unwittingly, his child to the Devil in return for some service, and gives his signature to the bond. Thechild grows up, and, noticing the dejection of his parents, forces from them the secret of the pact. After equipping himself for the struggle, he sets out for hell to recover the contract. In hell he frightens or annoys the devils in various ways, and becomes such a nuisance that finally the arch-fiend is glad to get rid of him by surrendering the bond.In a Lorraine story (Cosquin, No. LXIV, “Saint Etienne”) “a woman in confinement is visited by a grand gentleman, who persuades her to sell her child to him for a large sum of money. He is to come for the child in six or seven years. One day after a visit of the stranger, the mother begins to suspect him of being the Devil. Her son notices her sadness, and learns the secret that is troubling her. ‘I’m not afraid of the Devil,’ he says boldly, and tells her to provide him with a sheep-skin filled with holy water. Thus equipped, he sets off with the stranger when the time comes, and, reaching hell, so frightens the devils by sprinkling them with the holy water, that they are glad to leave him in peace to return to his mother.” In this story nothing is said of a contract; but in a variant mentioned by Cosquin (2 : 232) a poor man signs in blood a bond according to which he agrees to give up his son at the age of twenty to the rich stranger (Devil in disguise) who has consented to be godfather to the infant. The demon is finally put to flight with the aid of an image of the cross and with the liberal use of holy water.In a Wallachian story (Schott, No. 15) we find a close parallel of incident to our story: the hero, acting on the advice of his school-master, makes some ecclesiastical garments decorated with crosses, and, dressed in these, he goes to hell and knocks on the door. The demons, frightened by the sight, want to drive him away; but he will not go until they surrender the parchment signed by his father. This story differs from ours in the opening, however; for the father is a poor fisherman, and promises unwittingly “that which he loves most at home” in exchange for great riches. At the end of the story, too, is added an episode of the conversion by the hero of a band of robbers. With the beginning of this Wallachian story compare the Italian “Lionbruno” (Crane, No. XXXVI). In a Lithuanian tale (Chodzko, Contes des paysans et des pâtres slaves [Paris 1864], p. 107), the hero, before setting out to meet the Devil, arms himself with holy water and a piece of chalk blessed by the priest. With the chalk he draws a magic circle about him, from which he throws water on the demons until they give up the contract. For other variants, see Cosquin, No. LXXV and notes.Our story, while somewhat crude in style, is well motivated throughout, and has one amusing episode for which I know no parallel, the tying of Satan in his rocking-chair while he is taking his siesta, and then frightening him into compliance, when he wakes, by displaying,before him the cross-embroidered gown. The first task the hero is put to when he enters hell—directing the hauling of logs for fuel—seems more appropriate than that of draining two ponds, which the hero is obliged to perform in Cosquin’s “La Baguette Merveilleuse,” No. LXXV.The testimony of the narrator that he heard the story from one of his playmates when he was a little boy, throws an interesting ray of light on the way in which popular stories circulate in the Philippines.The Devil and the Guachinango.Narrated by José Laki of Guagua, Pampanga. He got the story from his uncle, who heard it from an old Pampango story-teller.There once lived in a suburb of a town a very religious old widow who had a beautiful daughter, Piriang by name. Young men from different parts of the town came to court Piriang, and the mother always preferred the rich to the poor. Whenever Piriang’s friends told her that the man whom she rejected would have been a good match for her, she always answered that she would rather have a devil for a husband than such a man.One day a devil heard Piriang giving this answer to one of her friends. Thus encouraged, he disguised himself as a young man of noble blood, and went to Piriang’s house to offer her his love. The mother and daughter received this stranger with great civility, for he appeared to them to be the son of a nobleman. In the richness of his dress he was unexcelled by his rivals. After he had been going to Piriang’s house for a few weeks, the old widow told him one day to come prepared to be married on the following Tuesday. On the Sunday before the wedding-day he had a long conversation with Piriang. He calmly asked her to take off the cross that she had about her neck, for it made her look ugly, he said. She refused to do so, however, because she had worn this cross ever since she was a child. After he had departed, Piriang told her mother what he had asked her to do.The next day the mother went to the church. She told the priest that Piriang’s bridegroom had ordered her to take off her cross from her neck. The priest said that that man was a devil; for no man, as a son of God, would say that a cross made the one who wore it look ugly. The priest gave the mother a small image of the Virgin Mary. He instructed her to show the image to the bridegroom. If when he beheld it he turned his back on her as she was holding it, she was to tie him around theneck with hercintas.1Then she was to put him in a large jar, and bury him at least twenty-one feet under the ground.The mother went home very much distressed because she had allowed her daughter to become engaged to a devil. She told Piriang not to talk with her bridegroom, because she feared that he was a devil. That night he came with his friend dressed like him. The mother was very gracious to them. They talked about the wedding. When the old woman held up the image of the Virgin Mary, the two men turned their backs on her. She immediately wound hercintasaround the neck of her daughter’s bridegroom, and Piriang came in with the dried tail of a sting-ray in her right hand. She whipped him with this as hard as she could.2Then the two together forced him to get into a large jar. After warning him not to come back to earth again, the old woman covered the jar with a piece of cloth wet with holy water. The other devil suddenly disappeared.The next morning a guachinango3happened to pass by the house of the old woman. She called him in, showed him the jar, and told him to bury it at least twenty-one feet deep. When he asked how much she would pay him, she promised to give him ten pesos. He agreed: so, putting the jar on his right shoulder, he set out. When he reached a quiet place, he heard whispers behind him. He stopped and looked around, but could see nothing. Then he put the jar on the ground to rest a few minutes. Now he discovered that the whispers were coming from inside the jar. He was very much surprised.“What are you?” asked the guachinango. “Are you a man, or a devil?”“I am a devil, my friend,” answered the voice. “The old woman forced me to go into this jar. Be kind to me, my friend, and liberate me!”“I shall obey the old woman in order to get my pay,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you even deeper than twenty-one feet.”“If you will bury me just three feet deep,” said the devil, “I will give you a large sum of money.”“I will bury you just one and a half feet deep, if you can give me much money,” said the guachinango.“I will give you five hundred pesos,” said the devil. “Dig the ground near the stump of that mabolo-tree. There you will find the money in a dirty black purse.”After the guachinango had buried the devil, he went to the mabolo-tree and took the money. Then he went to the nearest village and played casino. As soon as he lost all his money, he returned to the devil. “I have lost all the money you gave me,” he said. “I will now bury you twenty-one feet deep.”“No, do not bury me so deep as that, my friend!” said the devil calmly. “I can give you twice as much money as I gave you before. You will find it in the same place that you found the other.”The guachinango took the money and went to the village again to gamble. Again he lost. He returned to the devil, and asked him angrily why he always lost the money he gave him. “I don’t know,” answered the devil. “I have given you fifteen hundred pesos, but you haven’t even a cent now. You ought to set me free at once.”“Aha! I won’t let you go,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you thirty-nine feet now.”“I have a plan in mind,” said the devil, “which will benefit you extremely; but before I explain my plan, let me ask you if you would like to marry the daughter of the king.”“I have a great desire to be king some day,” said the guachinango; “but how can you make me the husband of a princess, when you are only a devil, and I am nothing but a poor guachinango?”“As soon as you set me free,” said the devil, “I will enter the mouth of the princess and go into her brains. Then I will give her a very painful headache which no physician can cure. The king will make an announcement saying that he who can cure his daughter of her disease shall marry her. When you hear this announcement, go to the palace at once, and offer your services to the king. As soon as you reach the princess, tell me that you have come, and I will leave her immediately. The princess will then recover her former health, and you will be married to her. Do not fail to go to the palace, for I am determined to reward you for your kindness to me.”After the guachinango had liberated the devil, he immediately set out for the city. He had not been there three days when he met a group of soldiers crying that “he who could curethe princess should have her to wife.” The guachinango stopped the soldiers, and said that he could cure the princess. They took him before the king, where a written agreement was made. If he could not cure the princess in three days, he should lose his life; but if he cured her by the end of the third day, he should marry her. The guachinango was then conducted to the room of the princess. When he approached her, he said to the devil that he had come. “You must leave the princess now; for, if you don’t, I shall be executed.” But the devil refused to leave, because he wanted to get revenge. He further told the guachinango that he wanted him to die, for then his soul would go to hell.The guachinango became more and more hopeless. On the morning of the third day he thought of a good plan to get rid of his enemy. He asked the king to order all the bells of the neighboring churches to be tolled, while every one in the palace was to cry out loud, “Here she comes!” While all this noise was going on, the guachinango approached the princess, and told the devil that the old woman was coming with hercintas. When the devil heard this, he was terribly frightened, and left the princess and disappeared. The next day the guachinango was married to the princess.Notes.From the testimony of the narrator, this capital story appears to have been known in Pampanga for some time. The incident of the demon entering the body of the princess, and then leaving at the request of one who has befriended him, occurs in a Tagalog story also, which I will give for the purpose of comparison. While the story is more of a fairy-tale than aMärchenproper, it appears to be a variant of ourNo. 24. Significant differences between the two will be noted, however. The Tagalog story was collected and written down for me by Manuel Reyes, a native of Manila. It runs as follows:Mabait and the Duende.Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”“I am not evil, I am a duende.”“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”“No, my friend gives it to me.”“Who is your friend?”“A duende.”Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.“Give me the money first.”After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”“What! Will the princess be my wife?”“Yes.”“How can you make her love me?”“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”“I am the duende.”“Why are you there?”“Because I want to be here.”“Go away!”“No, I won’t.”“Don’t you know me?”“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”“I am the duende, your friend.”“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.Before attempting to decide anything concerning the provenience of these two tales, we shall first examine versions of the story from other parts of the world. The nearest European analogue that I am familiar with is an Andalusian story printed by Caballero in 1866 (Ingram, 107, “The Demon’s Mother-in-Law”). An outline of the chief elements of this tale follows:—Mother Holofernes, while very neat and industrious, was a terrible termagant and shrew. Her daughter Panfila, on the contrary, was so lazy and thoughtless, that once, when the old woman burnt herself badly because herdaughter was listening to some lads singing outside, instead of helping her mother with the boiling lye for washing, the enraged Mother Holofernes shouted to her offspring, “Heaven grant that you may marry the Evil One himself!” Not long afterward a rich little man presented himself as a suitor for Panfila’s hand. He was accepted by the mother, and preparations for the marriage went forward. The old woman, however, began to dislike the suitor, and, recalling her curse, suspected that he was none other than the Devil himself. Accordingly, on the night of the wedding, she bade Panfila lock all the windows and doors of the room, and then beat her husband with a branch of consecrated olive. So done. The husband tried to escape from his wife by slipping through the key-hole; but his mother-in-law anticipated this move. She caught him in a glass bottle, which she immediately sealed hermetically. Then the old lady climbed to the summit of a mountain, and there deposited the bottle in an out-of-the-way place. Ten years the imp remained there a prisoner, suffering cold, heat, hunger, thirst. One day a soldier, returning to his native town on leave, took a short cut over the mountain, and spied the bottle. When he picked it up, the imp begged to be released, and told him of all he had suffered; but the soldier made a number of conditions,—his release from the army, a four-dollar daily pension, etc.,—and finally the imp promised to enter the body of the daughter of the King of Naples. The soldier was to present himself at court as a physician, and demand any reward he wished to, in return for a cure. So done. The king accepted the services of the soldier, but stipulated that if in three days he had not cured the princess, he should be hanged. The soldier accepted the conditions; but the demon, seeing that he had his arrogant enemy’s life in his hands, and bent on revenge, refused to leave the body of the princess. On the last day, however, the soldier ordered all the bells rung. On the demon’s asking what all the noise was about, the soldier said, “I have ordered your mother-in-law summoned, and she has just arrived.” In great terror the Devil at once quitted the princess, and the soldier was left “in victorious possession of the field.”It will be noticed that the last episode is almost identical with the ending of our story “The Devil and the Guachinango,” while there is a considerable amount of divergence between the two elsewhere.For versions collected before 1860 I am indebted to Benfey’s treatment of this cycle. It is found in his “Pantschatantra,” 1 : 519 ff. I take the liberty of summarizing it in this place, first, because it is the only exhaustive handling of the story I know of; and, second, because Benfey’s brilliant work, while constantly referred to and quoted, has long been out of print, and has never been accessible in English.The occasion for Benfey’s dissertation on this particular tale is the relationship he sees between it and the large family of stories turning on the motive of a marvellous cure, a representative of which is “Pantschatantra,” 5 : 12, “The Miraculous Cure of a Blind Man, a Humpback, and a Three-breasted Princess.”7While the story weare discussing cannot be considered in any sense an offshoot of the Pantschatantra tale, it can scarcely be denied, says Benfey, that between the two there is a definite internal relationship, which is further manifested by the fact that in its later development the latter is actually joined to the former (p. 519).The earliest form of our story is found in the“Cukasaptati,”where it is told as the story for the 45th and 46th nights. In this version,—A Brahman, driven away from home by the malice of his wife, is befriended by a demon who had formerly lived in the Brahman’s house, but who had also fled in fear from her shrewish tongue. The demon enters the body of a princess; and the Brahman, appearing as a conjurer, forces him to leave, in accordance with their pact, and wins half a kingdom and the hand of the princess. The demon now goes to another city where he possesses the queen, an aunt of the Brahman’s new father-in-law. The Brahman, whose reputation as an enchanter has become great, is summoned to cure this queen. When he arrives, the demon threatens and insults him, refusing to leave the queen because they are now quits. The Brahman, however, whispers in the woman’s ear, “My wife is coming here close on my heels, I have come only to warn you;” whereupon the demon, terror-stricken, at once leaves the queen. The Brahman is highly honored.Benfey conjectures that this story must have passed over into the Persian redaction of the “Cukasaptati” (i.e., the “Tūtī-nāmeh”), but what changes it underwent in the transmission cannot yet be determined. The earliest European form of the tale is that found in the Turkish “Forty Vezirs” (trans. by Behrnauer, p. 277).Here a young wood-cutter saves money to buy a rope; but his shrewish wife, thinking that he is going to spend it on a sweetheart, insists on accompanying him to his work in the mountains, so that she can keep him under her eye. In the mountains the husband decides to abandon his wife in a well. He tells her to hold a rope while he descends to fetch a treasure which he pretends is concealed at the bottom; but she is so avaricious, that she insists on being let down first. Then he drops the rope, and returns home free. A few days later, conscience-smitten, he goes back to rescue his wife, and, lowering another rope, he calls to her that he will draw her up; but he hauls a demon to the surface instead. The demon thanks the wood-cutter for rescuing him from a malicious woman “who some days ago descended, and has made my life unbearable ever since.” As in the Cukasaptati story, the demon enters a princess and makes her insane, and the wood-cutter cures her and marries her. Then the demon enters another princess. The wood-cutter is summoned; he has to resort to the well-known trick to force the imp to leave this second maiden.In the Persian form of this story, in the “1001 Days” (Prenzlau ed.), 11 : 247, is added the death-penalty in case the hero fails to perform the second cure, which consists in persuading the spirit, in the form of a snake, to unwind itself from the body of the vezir’s daughter. The hero had already cured the sultan’s daughter and married her.A Serbian story (Wuk, No. 37) is closer to the “Forty Vezirs” version than is the “1001 Days.” The only essential difference is that the opening of the Serbian tale is the well-knownfabliauof the “Meadow that was mowed.”Here the wife falls into a pit. When the husband attempts to draw her out again, a devil appears. The devil is thankful; and, to reward the man, it enters the body of the emperor’s daughter. Here the hero appears, not as an enchanter, but as a physician.Practically identical is the story of “The Bad Wife and the Devil,” in Vogl, “Slowenische Volksmärchen” (Wien, 1837).In a Finnish version of the story (Benfey, 524–525) the hero, as in the preceding, assumes the rôle of a physician.The husband pushes his bad wife into an abyss. When he attempts to draw her out again, another woman appears. She is the Plague.8Out of gratitude for her liberation from that other wicked woman, she proposes to him that they travel together through the world: she, the pest, will make people ill; he, as physician, will cure them. So done. As a result the man becomes rich. But at last he grows weary of his excessive work: so he procures a snappish dog, and puts it in a sack. The next time he is called to the side of a person made sick by the pest, he says to her, “Enter human beings no more: if you do, I will liberate from this sack the woman that tormented you in the abyss,” at the same time irritating the dog so that it growls. The Plague, full of terror, begs him for God’s sake not to set the woman free, and promises to reform.It will be seen that in its method of the “sickness and the cure,” this story is related to Grimm, No. 44, “Godfather Death,” where Death takes the place of the Plague, and where, instead of gratitude, the motive is the godfather relationship of Death toward the hero.This folk-tale, says Benfey (p. 525), was early put into literary form in Europe. Among others, he cites Machiavelli’s excellent version in his story of “Belfagor” (early sixteenth century):—Belfagor, a devil, is sent to earth by his master to live as a married man for ten years, to see whether certain accusations made against women by souls in hell are true or slanderous. Belfagor marries in Florence; but his imperious wife causes him so much bad fortune, that he is compelled to flee from his creditors. A peasant conceals him, and out of gratitude Belfagor tells his rescuer his story, and promises to make him rich by possessing women and allowing himself to be driven out only by the peasant himself. So done. The peasant wins great renown; and at last Belfagor says that his obligations have been fulfilled, and that the peasant must look out for himself if they meet again. The devil now enters the daughter of Ludwig II, King of France. The peasant is summoned to cure her, but isafraid, and refuses. At last he is compelled to go, like the physician, against his will (see Benfey, 515 ff.). Belfagor rages when he sees the peasant, and threatens him vehemently. At last the peasant employs the usual trick: “Your wife is coming!” and the devil flees in consternation, choosing rather to rush back to hell than into the arms of his wife.Benfey considers a Bohemian story in Wenzig’s collection (West-slawische Märchen, Leipzig, 1857, p. 167) to be the best of all the popular versions belonging to this group, and he reproduces it in full (pp. 527–534). This long story we may pass over, since it contains no new features that are found in our story. In fact, it little resembles ours or any of the others, except in general in two or three episodes. Benfey concludes his discussion of this cycle by stating that there have been many other imitations of this tale, and he mentions some of these (p. 534). It may be added that further references will be found in Wilson’s note in his edition of Dunlop, 2 : 188–190.The question of the origin of the Pampango version of this story is not easy to answer definitely, for the reason that it presents details not found in any of the other variants. However, since nearly all the machinery of our story turns on the teachings of the Roman Church, and since thedenouementis practically identical with the ending of Caballero’s Andalusian story, I conclude that in its main outlines our version was derived from Spain. At the same time, I think it likely that the fairy-tale of “Mabait and the Duende” was already existent earlier in the Islands (though this, too, may have been imported), and that the motivation of the spirit’s desire to revenge himself on his tormentor for his avarice and greed was incorporated into theMärchenfrom the fairy-tale. My reasons for thinking the fairy-tale the older are: (1) its crudeness (the good and the bad hero are a very awkward device compared with the combination of qualities in the guachinango); (2) its local references and its native names; (3) its use of native superstitions and beliefs.1Cintas, a holy belt worn by women.2Seenote 1 onpagui(“sting-ray”), p. 43.3Guachinango, defined by the narrator as “vagabond.” The word is used in Cuba as a nickname for the natives of Mexico.4While the termduendeis Spanish, the other three spirits mentioned—tigbalang, iki, mananangal—are good old native demons.5Seefootnote 1, p. 217.6Same as the Cuban isabelina.7The episode of a mutual cure being effected by a blind man and a lame man, we have already met with in two of the versions of ourNo. 6.8It may be noted, in passing, that among certain of the Tagalogs the pestilence (cholera particularly) is personified as an old woman dressed in black, who goes about the town at night knocking for admittance. If any one pays attention to her summons, the result is fatal to him. This evil spirit is known assalut.

Is He the Crafty Ulysses?Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.Balbino and Alaga had only one child, a son named Suguid, who was at first greatly beloved by them. The couple was very rich, and therefore the boy wanted nothing that was not grantedby his parents. Now, the son was a voracious eater. While still a baby, he used to pull up the nails from the floor and eat them, when his mother had no more milk to give him. When all the nails were exhausted, he ate the cotton with which the pillows were stuffed. Thus his parents used to compare him to a mill which consumes sugarcane incessantly. It was not many years before the wealth of the couple had become greatly diminished by the lavish expenditure they had to make for Suguid’s food. So Suguid became more and more intolerable every day. At last his parents decided to cast him away into a place from which he might not be able to find his way home again.One day they led him to a dense forest, and there abandoned him. Luckily for Suguid, a merchant soon passed by that place. The merchant heard him crying, and looked for him. He found the boy, and, being a good-natured man, he took the boy home with him. It was not long before the merchant realized that Suguid was a youth of talent, and he put him in school. In a few weeks the boy showed his superiority over his classmates. In time he beat even the master in points of learning. And so it was that after only five months of studying he left the school, because he found it too small for his expanding intellect.By some mathematical calculation, so the tradition says, or by certain mysterious combinations of characters that he wrote on paper, Suguid discovered one day that a certain princess was hidden somewhere. She had been concealed in such a way that her existence might not be known other than by her parents and the courtiers. Suguid immediately went to the palace of the king, and posted a paper on the palace-door. The paper read as follows: “Your Majesty cannot deny me the fact that he has a daughter secluded somewhere. Your humble servant, Suguid Bociu.”When the king read this note, he became very angry, as he could now no longer keep the secret of his daughter’s existence. He immediately despatched his soldiers to look for the presumptuous Suguid. The soldiers found the boy without much difficulty, and brought him before the king. Bursting with anger, the king said, “Are you the one who was bold enough to post this paper?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Can you prove what you have stated?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Very well,” said the king; “if you can, I will give you my daughter for your bride. If within three days you fail to produce her before me, however, you shall be unconditionally executed.”“I will not fail to fulfil my promise, your Majesty,” said Suguid.After this brief interview, Suguid went directly home. He told the merchant all about his plan to marry the princess.“Why did you dare tell the king that you know where his daughter is,” said the merchant, “when there is no certainty at all of your finding her or of gaining her consent?”“Oh, do not be afraid, father!” said Suguid. “If you will but provide me with twelve of the best goldsmiths that can be found in the whole city, I have no doubt of finding and captivating the fair princess.” As the merchant was a rich man, and influential too, he summoned in an hour all the good goldsmiths that could be found in the city. When all the goldsmiths were assembled, Suguid ordered them to make apurlon. Thispurlonwas made of gold, silver, and precious stones. It was oblong in shape, and hollow inside, being five feet high, three feet deep, and four feet long. Inside it were placed a chair and a lamp. By means of a certain device a person inside thepurloncould breathe. Altogether its construction was so beautiful, that it seemed as if it were intended for the sight of the gods alone.When all was ready, Suguid entered thepurlon, taking with him all the necessary provisions,—food, fine clothes, a poniard, and a guitar. Every part of thepurlonwas so well joined, that no opening whatever could be detected. Before going into thepurlon, Suguid told the merchant to take the goldsmiths home, and not to allow them to leave the house for three days, lest they should reveal the secret. Suguid then ordered five men to carry thepurlontowards the king’s palace. In the mean time he was playing the sweetest piece of music that mortal ears had ever heard. When thepurlonwas near the palace, the king was so charmed by the melodious music, that he asked the master of the carriers to halt for a moment. “Pray,” he said, “are you the owner of that thing?”“No, sir! a certain man in our district owns it,” said the carrier.“Who gave him this divine gift?”“Your Majesty, thispurlon, as it is called, is of a rather mysterious origin. The owner of this (pointing to thepurlon) was a religious man. He was formerly very wealthy; but because he gave much alms to the poor and the needy, his riches soon came to an end. He is now so poor, that his silken clothes have all been exchanged for ragged cotton ones. Early one morning, when he was about to go to the church, he was surprised to find thispurlonat his door, giving out music as you hear it now.”The king turned to the queen, who was sitting beside him, and said, “Oh, how happy our daughter would be if she should hear this enchanting piece of music!—Sir, if you will lend me thispurlon, you may ask of me as a compensation any favor that you may want.”“Your Majesty, I will lend it to you with all my heart, but on condition that it be returned within two days, lest the owner scold me for having given it up.”“Yes,” answered the king, “I will give it back as soon as my daughter has seen it.” The king and queen then immediately ordered that thepurlonbe carried before the princess. The princess’s joy need not be described if we only think how happy we should be if we were in the same situation as she. She was so bewitched by the music, that she told her father never to take it away from her.“O daughter!” said the king, “we have just borrowed thispurlon, and we promised to return it as soon as you had seen it. However, you may have it the whole night.”The king and the queen, convinced that their daughter was quite happy, soon bade her good-by. Before leaving, the king said, “You must not spend the whole night in listening to the sweet music.”“Have no fear, father! I will go to sleep early.”Suguid, who was inside thepurlon, listened very carefully to the retreating footsteps of the king and queen. As soon as he thought they were too far away to hear their daughter in case she should cry out, he came out from thepurlon, poniard in hand. The princess, of course, was very much frightened when she saw Suguid kneeling before her, and saying, “Fair princess, let not my presence cause any fear! In coming here, I had no other purpose than to reveal to you a secret that I have longcherished in my heart. It is universally acknowledged that you are the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the most accomplished living mortal on earth, and as such you have awakened in me an intense love. So, taking no heed of the danger that I might encounter on the way, I ventured to search for you, Lily of the Valley and Rose of the Town—to love you, to adore you as a living saint. Your ring, my adored princess, will give me life or death,—life, because I shall be spared from being beheaded; death, for I have promised your father to present your ring to him within three days as a token of your acceptance of my suit. Therefore, Queen of Beauty, choose, your ring, or my death. I have my poniard ready, and I prefer a hundred times to die—nay, die smiling—at your hands.”The princess was so moved by this passionate speech, that she was mute for some time. After a difficult struggle within herself, she said, “Seeing your intense love and devotion for me, I cannot but consent to your proposal. Were not the matter pressing, however, I should not give my consent in so short a time. Here is the ring, if pleasure it will give you.”Suguid took the ring courteously, and said, “How can I paint in words my pleasure and gratitude! As it were, you have snatched me from the cold hands of Death. You have saved me from the fury of your father. You have given me a heaven of joy. Oh, how shall I describe it! I thank you very much. But now I must leave you and go into thepurlon,—the blessedpurlon,—as it is almost morning. Your father will soon come and take thispurlonaway. But I must let you know this one fact: as soon as I have presented this ring to the king, you will be taken away from here. You will be made my beloved wife.”“Yes, I have no objection to that,” said the princess. Suguid, being thus assured of his success, entered thepurlonagain.Morning came, and the king and queen went to the princess’s palace at ten o’clock. They talked a while with their daughter, who assured them of her great satisfaction with thepurlon. Then they bade her good-by, as there was important business to be transacted that day. They took thepurlonwith them, and returned it to the agent.On the appointed day Suguid appeared at the king’s palace, carrying with him the emblem of his victory,—the ring. On seeing Suguid approaching so cheerfully, the king knew that he was lost. He therefore swooned, but on recovering he realizedthat he had to abide by his promise. He reluctantly caused the princess to be summoned from her palace, and she and Suguid were married together; and it was not long before the king and queen began to appreciate the talent of their humble and lowly son-in-law. By Suguid’s wise policy the kingdom prospered, and for the first time learned what peace really meant.Notes.I have a variant of this story, “Juan the Poor,” told more briefly, narrated by Andrea Mariano, a Tagalog, who heard it from her little brother. It runs thus in outline:—Juan is the son of a beggar. The beggar dies, and the son sells himself to a merchant for money to bury his father properly. After Juan has been educated, he posts this sign in front of the merchant’s house: “I can trace everything that is lost.—Juan.” The king sees the sign, and requires the boy to discover his hidden daughter. Method: Golden carriage with Juan playing music inside; old man hired to push it. The king borrows the carriage and takes it to his daughter. When alone with the princess, Juan declares his love, and she gives him her ring. Next day the carriage is returned to the old man. Juan takes the ring to the king, and is given the princess’s hand in marriage because he is so wise.For another Tagalog variant see “The King, the Princess, and the Poor Boy” (JAFL 20 : 307). This is almost identical with the variant above, except that the hero is advised by two statues how to discover where the princess is. Furthermore, the hero is discoveredwiththe princess after he has gained access to her by means of the gilt carriage and music-box.The fullest form of the story, however, is the Tagalog metrical romance popularly known under the title “Juan Bachiller.” The full title runs as follows: “The Sad Life of a Father and of his Son named Juan, in the Kingdom of Spain. The son sold himself to a merchant on condition that he would bury the corpse of his father.” My copy bears the date 1907, but this is merely a reprint of an older edition. Retana cites an edition dated 1902 (No. 4337) and one before 1898 (No. 4156). The poem is in 12-syllable lines, and contains 350 quatrains. It is still very popular among the Tagalogs, but does not appear to have been printed in any of the other Philippine languages. Inasmuch as there is a close connection between our variants and the verse form of the story, I give a prose paraphrase of the latter:—There was once a poor beggar, Serbando, who had an only son named Juan. They lived in the kingdom of Spain. They had a little hut outside the city in which Serbando used to go to beg their living. One morning, when Juan returned home from school and was playing around their littlehovel, he heard many kinds of birds speaking to him thus: “Juan, be patient and toil in poverty. The time will come when God will reward you.” Then a large bird flew to him, and said, “Juan, leave your little miserable hut; go and seek your fortune.” When his father returned home, Juan told him all about the advice of the birds. Serbando did not believe that birds could talk, and doubted, of course, the truth of what his son said.Now, it happened that Serbando became sick, and after a short time died, leaving his son alone in the world. Poor Juan wept bitterly over the dead body. He did not know what to do. He covered the corpse of his father, and then went crying out through the streets of the city, “Who wants to buy a slave?” A merchant heard him. “I will serve you as long as I live if you will only see to the burial of my dead father,” said Juan to the merchant. Without hesitation the merchant assented, and together they went to the little hut. The merchant ordered and paid for a funeral; there was a procession, a mass, and after the burial a banquet. Then the merchant took the boy to live with him in the city where the king and queen lived. Moreover, this kind merchant sent Juan to school, and treated him as a son. In time Juan took his bachelor’s degree, and was greatly admired and respected by his teachers.One afternoon Juan put a notice on the door of the merchant’s house, which read thus: “If we use money, there is nothing we cannot discover.” It happened that on that same afternoon the king and queen were driving through the streets of the city. The king chanced to fix his eyes on the sign which Juan had put up. He did not believe that the notice was true; and so, when he arrived at the palace, he ordered the merchant to appear before him. The merchant was very much frightened at the summons, so Juan himself went and presented himself before the king.“Is the notice on your door true?” asked the king.“It is true, your Majesty,” said Juan.“Then go and find my daughter. If you can find her, she shall be your wife; if not, you shall lose your head three days from now,” said the king, who hid his daughter in a secret room in the palace.Juan went home and called all the best goldsmiths in the kingdom. He told them to make a little wagon of pure gold, with a secret cell inside in which a man could sit with a musical instrument and play it. The goldsmiths finished the wagon in two days and were paid off. Then Juan called a man and told him to drag this little wagon along the street toward the palace, and then to the plaza. After entering the secret cell with his musical instrument, he told the driver to do as he had been directed. The man began to drag the wagon along the street toward the palace. Men, women, and children crowded both sides of the street to see this wagon of pure gold, which gave out such sweet music. When the wagon passed in front of the palace, the queen was amazed at it. She asked the king to summon the driver before him. So the king called the driver, and asked him to bring the golden wagon into the hall where the queen was.“How much will you sell this for?” asked the queen.“I will not sell it,” answered the driver.“Can you not lend it to me until this afternoon?” said the king; and at last the driver agreed to lend the wagon for a few hours.The queen then dragged the wagon along the hall, and took it to her daughter in the secret room. The princess was delighted. As she pushedit forwards and backwards, sweet music charmed her ears. At last Juan came out of the secret cell in the wagon and knelt before the princess. He told her why he had been led to play this trick, and last of all he told her that he would have lost his life on the morrow if he had not been able to find her. He also began to express his love for her. At first she hesitated to accept his protestations of affection; but at last she accepted him, and gave him one of her rings as a sign that she would marry him. Fearing that he might be caught in the room by some one else, Juan now entered the secret cell of the wagon again.At last the king came, and started to drag the wagon out of the palace to the place where the driver was waiting. Juan suddenly opened the door of the secret cell and stood before the king. “O king!” he said, “now I have accomplished your command. I have found and seen your daughter in the secret room, and she has given me this ring.”The king was amazed, and said to himself that, had he known that the wagon contained any one inside, he would not have allowed it to be brought to his hidden daughter. He said to Juan, “You have told the truth, that anything can be discovered if money is used; but you shall not marry my daughter.”“Remember your promise,” said Juan.“Wait, and I will ask the princess,” said the king. “She might refuse.”“Whether she refuses or not, she is to be my wife, for I have seen her and found her,” replied Juan.“Then you shall have her,” said the king.So Juan was married to the princess, and there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. The king, however, was very sorry that his daughter had married Juan, who had now the right to inherit the throne from him. He could not endure the idea, so he pondered night and day how to kill Juan under some pretext or other. Juan learned of the king’s plot, and decided to leave the city for a while. He asked his wife for permission to go and visit the little hut in which he was born, and at last she consented.One day Juan left the palace and went to the country. While he was walking in the woods near his old home, two birds flew to him. “Juan, take this ring with you: it has magic power, and will furnish you whatever you ask of it,” said the male bird.“Here, take this pen-point, and use it whenever the king asks you to write for him,” said the female bird. “Remember, Juan, you do not need to have any ink; you can use your saliva,” it continued. “Now go back to the kingdom, and do not be afraid of the king’s plots,” said the two birds together. So Juan went back to the palace, and lived there with his wife.One day the king called Juan, and ordered him to write something. The king thought that if Juan should make any mistakes in the writing, he would order him to be executed. Juan used the pen-point which the second bird had given him. The king furnished him only paper, but no ink, so Juan used his saliva. “Write this, Juan,” said the king: “ ‘It is not right that you should be heir to my crown, and successor to the throne.’ ”Juan wrote the words just as the king had given them, and they appeared on the paper in letters of pure gold. The king was very much surprised by this demonstration of Juan’s ability.Then the king continued, “Write this: ‘You ought not to inherit the crown, you who were born in a little village, and whose ancestors are unknown.’ ” Juan wrote this dictation, and, as before, the letters were of pure gold. Again the king said, “Write now what I shall say: ‘You cannot cheat a king like me; you saw my daughter the princess because you were hiding in the wagon of gold.’ ”Juan wrote these words, and they were in pure gold too. The king was now sad, for he could think of no other way in which to detect a fault in Juan. So he dismissed his son-in-law, and showed the queen the golden letters that Juan had written. Juan returned to his apartments.When night came, Juan decided to ask his magic ring for a tower which should stand beside the palace of the king. During the night the tower was erected; it was garrisoned with field-marshals, colonels, and soldiers. Early in the morning the king was surprised to see this tall tower standing beside his palace. He said to himself, “I rule the kingdom, and the kingdom is mine; this tower is in my kingdom, therefore the tower is mine.” So the king went out of the palace and entered the tower. No one saluted him. Then he called Juan, and asked him about the tower. Juan answered that its presence there was due to the will and power of God. When Juan and the king together entered the tower, all the soldiers lined up and saluted Juan, and music was heard everywhere. Everything inside was made of solid silver and gold. The king was astounded at the magic power of his son-in-law, whom he was trying to kill.“Juan,” said the king, “wipe away this tower and erect at this moment a palace in its place. If you can do this, you shall be the king of the whole of Spain.” By the magic power of the ring, Juan was able to fulfil the command, and the tower was changed into a beautiful palace. The council of the kingdom, at the order of the king, agreed to crown Juan and his wife king and queen. There was great rejoicing throughout the realm. The old king and his wife abandoned the palace, and went to live in an abbey, where they died.Juan now called the merchant, his former master, to the palace. The merchant was afraid, for he feared that the king wished to do him mischief; he did not know that Juan was now king. But Juan received him affectionately, and from that time on the merchant, Juan, and the beautiful princess lived together happily in the palace.It will be noticed that the Tagalog poem differs from the three oral versions, in that after Juan has won the first wager from the king, his skill is subjected to further tests, which he comes out of successfully through the aid of magic objects given him by birds. In other words, the poem carries on the folk-tale by adding some additional episodes. The fact that the folk-tales, both Pampango and Tagalog, preserve the simple structure, while only the printed Tagalog verse-form seeks to elaborate and extend the tale, suggests that the simpler form is the older, and that the anonymous author of the romance added to the oral material for mere purposes of length. As it is, the poem is very short compared with the other popular metrical stories, which average well over 2000 lines. The localization of the events in Spain signifies nothing.The story is known also in southern Europe: e.g., in Greece (Von Hahn, No. 13), in Sicily (Gonzenbach, No. 68; Pitrè, Nos. 95, 96). In the Greek version, after the hero has decided to risk his neck for the hand of the hidden princess, he goes to a shepherd and has himself covered with the hide of a lamb with golden fleece. In this disguise he is taken to the princess. In the night he throws off his fleece covering and makes love to the princess, who finally accepts him, and tells him how he may be able to recognize her among her maidens, all of whom, herself included, her father will change into ducks, and then will require the youth to pick out the duck which is the princess. He succeeds, and wins her hand in marriage. In Gonzenbach, No. 68, the hero is one of three brothers who set out to seek their fortunes. They each come in succession to the beautiful city where the king has issued the proclamation that whoever can find his hidden daughter within eight days shall receive her hand in marriage; whoever tries and fails, loses his head. The first two brothers fail and are killed. The youngest, arriving in the city and reading the proclamation, determines to take the risk. He is advised by an old beggar-woman how to find the princess. He has goldsmiths make a golden lion with crystal eyes. The animal is so contrived that it plays continually beautiful music. The hero hides inside, and the old woman takes the lion to the king, to whom she lends it. Then follow the discovery of the princess, her acceptance of the hero’s love, the token given to the hero, etc. The hero is obliged to pick the princess out from among her eleven maids who look exactly like her. In Pitrè, No. 95, we find practically the same incidents recorded: two older sons of a merchant go off to seek their fortunes, and lose their heads because they cannot discover the princess “within a year, a month, and a day.” The youngest comes in turn to the same country, wagers his head, and searches a year and fifteen days in vain. On the advice of an old woman, he has built a goldenàcula(just what this word means I have been unable to determine) large enough to contain a person playing a musical instrument. Four men carry theàculato the palace; discovery of the princess follows. Second test: to pick the princess out from twenty-four maidens dressed exactly alike.In none of these three stories (nor in Pitrè, No. 96, which is a shorter variant of No. 95) does the opening resemble our forms of the tale. Nor in any of the three, either, does the hero bring the wager on himself because of the announcement he makes that he who has gold can discover anything. With this detail, however, compare the couplet which the hero displays in Pitrè, No. 96:—“Cu’ havi dinari fa chiddu chi voli,Cu’ havi bon cavallu va unni voli.”The line “He who has gold can do whatever he wishes” is almost identical with the corresponding line in the Tagalog verse story.It is to be noted that the bride-wager incident in this group of stories resembles closely the same episode in ourNo. 19. The opening of ourNo. 21has been influenced by the setting of the stories of the Carancal group (No. 3).

Is He the Crafty Ulysses?Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.Balbino and Alaga had only one child, a son named Suguid, who was at first greatly beloved by them. The couple was very rich, and therefore the boy wanted nothing that was not grantedby his parents. Now, the son was a voracious eater. While still a baby, he used to pull up the nails from the floor and eat them, when his mother had no more milk to give him. When all the nails were exhausted, he ate the cotton with which the pillows were stuffed. Thus his parents used to compare him to a mill which consumes sugarcane incessantly. It was not many years before the wealth of the couple had become greatly diminished by the lavish expenditure they had to make for Suguid’s food. So Suguid became more and more intolerable every day. At last his parents decided to cast him away into a place from which he might not be able to find his way home again.One day they led him to a dense forest, and there abandoned him. Luckily for Suguid, a merchant soon passed by that place. The merchant heard him crying, and looked for him. He found the boy, and, being a good-natured man, he took the boy home with him. It was not long before the merchant realized that Suguid was a youth of talent, and he put him in school. In a few weeks the boy showed his superiority over his classmates. In time he beat even the master in points of learning. And so it was that after only five months of studying he left the school, because he found it too small for his expanding intellect.By some mathematical calculation, so the tradition says, or by certain mysterious combinations of characters that he wrote on paper, Suguid discovered one day that a certain princess was hidden somewhere. She had been concealed in such a way that her existence might not be known other than by her parents and the courtiers. Suguid immediately went to the palace of the king, and posted a paper on the palace-door. The paper read as follows: “Your Majesty cannot deny me the fact that he has a daughter secluded somewhere. Your humble servant, Suguid Bociu.”When the king read this note, he became very angry, as he could now no longer keep the secret of his daughter’s existence. He immediately despatched his soldiers to look for the presumptuous Suguid. The soldiers found the boy without much difficulty, and brought him before the king. Bursting with anger, the king said, “Are you the one who was bold enough to post this paper?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Can you prove what you have stated?”“Yes, your Majesty.”“Very well,” said the king; “if you can, I will give you my daughter for your bride. If within three days you fail to produce her before me, however, you shall be unconditionally executed.”“I will not fail to fulfil my promise, your Majesty,” said Suguid.After this brief interview, Suguid went directly home. He told the merchant all about his plan to marry the princess.“Why did you dare tell the king that you know where his daughter is,” said the merchant, “when there is no certainty at all of your finding her or of gaining her consent?”“Oh, do not be afraid, father!” said Suguid. “If you will but provide me with twelve of the best goldsmiths that can be found in the whole city, I have no doubt of finding and captivating the fair princess.” As the merchant was a rich man, and influential too, he summoned in an hour all the good goldsmiths that could be found in the city. When all the goldsmiths were assembled, Suguid ordered them to make apurlon. Thispurlonwas made of gold, silver, and precious stones. It was oblong in shape, and hollow inside, being five feet high, three feet deep, and four feet long. Inside it were placed a chair and a lamp. By means of a certain device a person inside thepurloncould breathe. Altogether its construction was so beautiful, that it seemed as if it were intended for the sight of the gods alone.When all was ready, Suguid entered thepurlon, taking with him all the necessary provisions,—food, fine clothes, a poniard, and a guitar. Every part of thepurlonwas so well joined, that no opening whatever could be detected. Before going into thepurlon, Suguid told the merchant to take the goldsmiths home, and not to allow them to leave the house for three days, lest they should reveal the secret. Suguid then ordered five men to carry thepurlontowards the king’s palace. In the mean time he was playing the sweetest piece of music that mortal ears had ever heard. When thepurlonwas near the palace, the king was so charmed by the melodious music, that he asked the master of the carriers to halt for a moment. “Pray,” he said, “are you the owner of that thing?”“No, sir! a certain man in our district owns it,” said the carrier.“Who gave him this divine gift?”“Your Majesty, thispurlon, as it is called, is of a rather mysterious origin. The owner of this (pointing to thepurlon) was a religious man. He was formerly very wealthy; but because he gave much alms to the poor and the needy, his riches soon came to an end. He is now so poor, that his silken clothes have all been exchanged for ragged cotton ones. Early one morning, when he was about to go to the church, he was surprised to find thispurlonat his door, giving out music as you hear it now.”The king turned to the queen, who was sitting beside him, and said, “Oh, how happy our daughter would be if she should hear this enchanting piece of music!—Sir, if you will lend me thispurlon, you may ask of me as a compensation any favor that you may want.”“Your Majesty, I will lend it to you with all my heart, but on condition that it be returned within two days, lest the owner scold me for having given it up.”“Yes,” answered the king, “I will give it back as soon as my daughter has seen it.” The king and queen then immediately ordered that thepurlonbe carried before the princess. The princess’s joy need not be described if we only think how happy we should be if we were in the same situation as she. She was so bewitched by the music, that she told her father never to take it away from her.“O daughter!” said the king, “we have just borrowed thispurlon, and we promised to return it as soon as you had seen it. However, you may have it the whole night.”The king and the queen, convinced that their daughter was quite happy, soon bade her good-by. Before leaving, the king said, “You must not spend the whole night in listening to the sweet music.”“Have no fear, father! I will go to sleep early.”Suguid, who was inside thepurlon, listened very carefully to the retreating footsteps of the king and queen. As soon as he thought they were too far away to hear their daughter in case she should cry out, he came out from thepurlon, poniard in hand. The princess, of course, was very much frightened when she saw Suguid kneeling before her, and saying, “Fair princess, let not my presence cause any fear! In coming here, I had no other purpose than to reveal to you a secret that I have longcherished in my heart. It is universally acknowledged that you are the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the most accomplished living mortal on earth, and as such you have awakened in me an intense love. So, taking no heed of the danger that I might encounter on the way, I ventured to search for you, Lily of the Valley and Rose of the Town—to love you, to adore you as a living saint. Your ring, my adored princess, will give me life or death,—life, because I shall be spared from being beheaded; death, for I have promised your father to present your ring to him within three days as a token of your acceptance of my suit. Therefore, Queen of Beauty, choose, your ring, or my death. I have my poniard ready, and I prefer a hundred times to die—nay, die smiling—at your hands.”The princess was so moved by this passionate speech, that she was mute for some time. After a difficult struggle within herself, she said, “Seeing your intense love and devotion for me, I cannot but consent to your proposal. Were not the matter pressing, however, I should not give my consent in so short a time. Here is the ring, if pleasure it will give you.”Suguid took the ring courteously, and said, “How can I paint in words my pleasure and gratitude! As it were, you have snatched me from the cold hands of Death. You have saved me from the fury of your father. You have given me a heaven of joy. Oh, how shall I describe it! I thank you very much. But now I must leave you and go into thepurlon,—the blessedpurlon,—as it is almost morning. Your father will soon come and take thispurlonaway. But I must let you know this one fact: as soon as I have presented this ring to the king, you will be taken away from here. You will be made my beloved wife.”“Yes, I have no objection to that,” said the princess. Suguid, being thus assured of his success, entered thepurlonagain.Morning came, and the king and queen went to the princess’s palace at ten o’clock. They talked a while with their daughter, who assured them of her great satisfaction with thepurlon. Then they bade her good-by, as there was important business to be transacted that day. They took thepurlonwith them, and returned it to the agent.On the appointed day Suguid appeared at the king’s palace, carrying with him the emblem of his victory,—the ring. On seeing Suguid approaching so cheerfully, the king knew that he was lost. He therefore swooned, but on recovering he realizedthat he had to abide by his promise. He reluctantly caused the princess to be summoned from her palace, and she and Suguid were married together; and it was not long before the king and queen began to appreciate the talent of their humble and lowly son-in-law. By Suguid’s wise policy the kingdom prospered, and for the first time learned what peace really meant.

Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.

Balbino and Alaga had only one child, a son named Suguid, who was at first greatly beloved by them. The couple was very rich, and therefore the boy wanted nothing that was not grantedby his parents. Now, the son was a voracious eater. While still a baby, he used to pull up the nails from the floor and eat them, when his mother had no more milk to give him. When all the nails were exhausted, he ate the cotton with which the pillows were stuffed. Thus his parents used to compare him to a mill which consumes sugarcane incessantly. It was not many years before the wealth of the couple had become greatly diminished by the lavish expenditure they had to make for Suguid’s food. So Suguid became more and more intolerable every day. At last his parents decided to cast him away into a place from which he might not be able to find his way home again.

One day they led him to a dense forest, and there abandoned him. Luckily for Suguid, a merchant soon passed by that place. The merchant heard him crying, and looked for him. He found the boy, and, being a good-natured man, he took the boy home with him. It was not long before the merchant realized that Suguid was a youth of talent, and he put him in school. In a few weeks the boy showed his superiority over his classmates. In time he beat even the master in points of learning. And so it was that after only five months of studying he left the school, because he found it too small for his expanding intellect.

By some mathematical calculation, so the tradition says, or by certain mysterious combinations of characters that he wrote on paper, Suguid discovered one day that a certain princess was hidden somewhere. She had been concealed in such a way that her existence might not be known other than by her parents and the courtiers. Suguid immediately went to the palace of the king, and posted a paper on the palace-door. The paper read as follows: “Your Majesty cannot deny me the fact that he has a daughter secluded somewhere. Your humble servant, Suguid Bociu.”

When the king read this note, he became very angry, as he could now no longer keep the secret of his daughter’s existence. He immediately despatched his soldiers to look for the presumptuous Suguid. The soldiers found the boy without much difficulty, and brought him before the king. Bursting with anger, the king said, “Are you the one who was bold enough to post this paper?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Can you prove what you have stated?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Very well,” said the king; “if you can, I will give you my daughter for your bride. If within three days you fail to produce her before me, however, you shall be unconditionally executed.”

“I will not fail to fulfil my promise, your Majesty,” said Suguid.

After this brief interview, Suguid went directly home. He told the merchant all about his plan to marry the princess.

“Why did you dare tell the king that you know where his daughter is,” said the merchant, “when there is no certainty at all of your finding her or of gaining her consent?”

“Oh, do not be afraid, father!” said Suguid. “If you will but provide me with twelve of the best goldsmiths that can be found in the whole city, I have no doubt of finding and captivating the fair princess.” As the merchant was a rich man, and influential too, he summoned in an hour all the good goldsmiths that could be found in the city. When all the goldsmiths were assembled, Suguid ordered them to make apurlon. Thispurlonwas made of gold, silver, and precious stones. It was oblong in shape, and hollow inside, being five feet high, three feet deep, and four feet long. Inside it were placed a chair and a lamp. By means of a certain device a person inside thepurloncould breathe. Altogether its construction was so beautiful, that it seemed as if it were intended for the sight of the gods alone.

When all was ready, Suguid entered thepurlon, taking with him all the necessary provisions,—food, fine clothes, a poniard, and a guitar. Every part of thepurlonwas so well joined, that no opening whatever could be detected. Before going into thepurlon, Suguid told the merchant to take the goldsmiths home, and not to allow them to leave the house for three days, lest they should reveal the secret. Suguid then ordered five men to carry thepurlontowards the king’s palace. In the mean time he was playing the sweetest piece of music that mortal ears had ever heard. When thepurlonwas near the palace, the king was so charmed by the melodious music, that he asked the master of the carriers to halt for a moment. “Pray,” he said, “are you the owner of that thing?”

“No, sir! a certain man in our district owns it,” said the carrier.

“Who gave him this divine gift?”

“Your Majesty, thispurlon, as it is called, is of a rather mysterious origin. The owner of this (pointing to thepurlon) was a religious man. He was formerly very wealthy; but because he gave much alms to the poor and the needy, his riches soon came to an end. He is now so poor, that his silken clothes have all been exchanged for ragged cotton ones. Early one morning, when he was about to go to the church, he was surprised to find thispurlonat his door, giving out music as you hear it now.”

The king turned to the queen, who was sitting beside him, and said, “Oh, how happy our daughter would be if she should hear this enchanting piece of music!—Sir, if you will lend me thispurlon, you may ask of me as a compensation any favor that you may want.”

“Your Majesty, I will lend it to you with all my heart, but on condition that it be returned within two days, lest the owner scold me for having given it up.”

“Yes,” answered the king, “I will give it back as soon as my daughter has seen it.” The king and queen then immediately ordered that thepurlonbe carried before the princess. The princess’s joy need not be described if we only think how happy we should be if we were in the same situation as she. She was so bewitched by the music, that she told her father never to take it away from her.

“O daughter!” said the king, “we have just borrowed thispurlon, and we promised to return it as soon as you had seen it. However, you may have it the whole night.”

The king and the queen, convinced that their daughter was quite happy, soon bade her good-by. Before leaving, the king said, “You must not spend the whole night in listening to the sweet music.”

“Have no fear, father! I will go to sleep early.”

Suguid, who was inside thepurlon, listened very carefully to the retreating footsteps of the king and queen. As soon as he thought they were too far away to hear their daughter in case she should cry out, he came out from thepurlon, poniard in hand. The princess, of course, was very much frightened when she saw Suguid kneeling before her, and saying, “Fair princess, let not my presence cause any fear! In coming here, I had no other purpose than to reveal to you a secret that I have longcherished in my heart. It is universally acknowledged that you are the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the most accomplished living mortal on earth, and as such you have awakened in me an intense love. So, taking no heed of the danger that I might encounter on the way, I ventured to search for you, Lily of the Valley and Rose of the Town—to love you, to adore you as a living saint. Your ring, my adored princess, will give me life or death,—life, because I shall be spared from being beheaded; death, for I have promised your father to present your ring to him within three days as a token of your acceptance of my suit. Therefore, Queen of Beauty, choose, your ring, or my death. I have my poniard ready, and I prefer a hundred times to die—nay, die smiling—at your hands.”

The princess was so moved by this passionate speech, that she was mute for some time. After a difficult struggle within herself, she said, “Seeing your intense love and devotion for me, I cannot but consent to your proposal. Were not the matter pressing, however, I should not give my consent in so short a time. Here is the ring, if pleasure it will give you.”

Suguid took the ring courteously, and said, “How can I paint in words my pleasure and gratitude! As it were, you have snatched me from the cold hands of Death. You have saved me from the fury of your father. You have given me a heaven of joy. Oh, how shall I describe it! I thank you very much. But now I must leave you and go into thepurlon,—the blessedpurlon,—as it is almost morning. Your father will soon come and take thispurlonaway. But I must let you know this one fact: as soon as I have presented this ring to the king, you will be taken away from here. You will be made my beloved wife.”

“Yes, I have no objection to that,” said the princess. Suguid, being thus assured of his success, entered thepurlonagain.

Morning came, and the king and queen went to the princess’s palace at ten o’clock. They talked a while with their daughter, who assured them of her great satisfaction with thepurlon. Then they bade her good-by, as there was important business to be transacted that day. They took thepurlonwith them, and returned it to the agent.

On the appointed day Suguid appeared at the king’s palace, carrying with him the emblem of his victory,—the ring. On seeing Suguid approaching so cheerfully, the king knew that he was lost. He therefore swooned, but on recovering he realizedthat he had to abide by his promise. He reluctantly caused the princess to be summoned from her palace, and she and Suguid were married together; and it was not long before the king and queen began to appreciate the talent of their humble and lowly son-in-law. By Suguid’s wise policy the kingdom prospered, and for the first time learned what peace really meant.

Notes.I have a variant of this story, “Juan the Poor,” told more briefly, narrated by Andrea Mariano, a Tagalog, who heard it from her little brother. It runs thus in outline:—Juan is the son of a beggar. The beggar dies, and the son sells himself to a merchant for money to bury his father properly. After Juan has been educated, he posts this sign in front of the merchant’s house: “I can trace everything that is lost.—Juan.” The king sees the sign, and requires the boy to discover his hidden daughter. Method: Golden carriage with Juan playing music inside; old man hired to push it. The king borrows the carriage and takes it to his daughter. When alone with the princess, Juan declares his love, and she gives him her ring. Next day the carriage is returned to the old man. Juan takes the ring to the king, and is given the princess’s hand in marriage because he is so wise.For another Tagalog variant see “The King, the Princess, and the Poor Boy” (JAFL 20 : 307). This is almost identical with the variant above, except that the hero is advised by two statues how to discover where the princess is. Furthermore, the hero is discoveredwiththe princess after he has gained access to her by means of the gilt carriage and music-box.The fullest form of the story, however, is the Tagalog metrical romance popularly known under the title “Juan Bachiller.” The full title runs as follows: “The Sad Life of a Father and of his Son named Juan, in the Kingdom of Spain. The son sold himself to a merchant on condition that he would bury the corpse of his father.” My copy bears the date 1907, but this is merely a reprint of an older edition. Retana cites an edition dated 1902 (No. 4337) and one before 1898 (No. 4156). The poem is in 12-syllable lines, and contains 350 quatrains. It is still very popular among the Tagalogs, but does not appear to have been printed in any of the other Philippine languages. Inasmuch as there is a close connection between our variants and the verse form of the story, I give a prose paraphrase of the latter:—There was once a poor beggar, Serbando, who had an only son named Juan. They lived in the kingdom of Spain. They had a little hut outside the city in which Serbando used to go to beg their living. One morning, when Juan returned home from school and was playing around their littlehovel, he heard many kinds of birds speaking to him thus: “Juan, be patient and toil in poverty. The time will come when God will reward you.” Then a large bird flew to him, and said, “Juan, leave your little miserable hut; go and seek your fortune.” When his father returned home, Juan told him all about the advice of the birds. Serbando did not believe that birds could talk, and doubted, of course, the truth of what his son said.Now, it happened that Serbando became sick, and after a short time died, leaving his son alone in the world. Poor Juan wept bitterly over the dead body. He did not know what to do. He covered the corpse of his father, and then went crying out through the streets of the city, “Who wants to buy a slave?” A merchant heard him. “I will serve you as long as I live if you will only see to the burial of my dead father,” said Juan to the merchant. Without hesitation the merchant assented, and together they went to the little hut. The merchant ordered and paid for a funeral; there was a procession, a mass, and after the burial a banquet. Then the merchant took the boy to live with him in the city where the king and queen lived. Moreover, this kind merchant sent Juan to school, and treated him as a son. In time Juan took his bachelor’s degree, and was greatly admired and respected by his teachers.One afternoon Juan put a notice on the door of the merchant’s house, which read thus: “If we use money, there is nothing we cannot discover.” It happened that on that same afternoon the king and queen were driving through the streets of the city. The king chanced to fix his eyes on the sign which Juan had put up. He did not believe that the notice was true; and so, when he arrived at the palace, he ordered the merchant to appear before him. The merchant was very much frightened at the summons, so Juan himself went and presented himself before the king.“Is the notice on your door true?” asked the king.“It is true, your Majesty,” said Juan.“Then go and find my daughter. If you can find her, she shall be your wife; if not, you shall lose your head three days from now,” said the king, who hid his daughter in a secret room in the palace.Juan went home and called all the best goldsmiths in the kingdom. He told them to make a little wagon of pure gold, with a secret cell inside in which a man could sit with a musical instrument and play it. The goldsmiths finished the wagon in two days and were paid off. Then Juan called a man and told him to drag this little wagon along the street toward the palace, and then to the plaza. After entering the secret cell with his musical instrument, he told the driver to do as he had been directed. The man began to drag the wagon along the street toward the palace. Men, women, and children crowded both sides of the street to see this wagon of pure gold, which gave out such sweet music. When the wagon passed in front of the palace, the queen was amazed at it. She asked the king to summon the driver before him. So the king called the driver, and asked him to bring the golden wagon into the hall where the queen was.“How much will you sell this for?” asked the queen.“I will not sell it,” answered the driver.“Can you not lend it to me until this afternoon?” said the king; and at last the driver agreed to lend the wagon for a few hours.The queen then dragged the wagon along the hall, and took it to her daughter in the secret room. The princess was delighted. As she pushedit forwards and backwards, sweet music charmed her ears. At last Juan came out of the secret cell in the wagon and knelt before the princess. He told her why he had been led to play this trick, and last of all he told her that he would have lost his life on the morrow if he had not been able to find her. He also began to express his love for her. At first she hesitated to accept his protestations of affection; but at last she accepted him, and gave him one of her rings as a sign that she would marry him. Fearing that he might be caught in the room by some one else, Juan now entered the secret cell of the wagon again.At last the king came, and started to drag the wagon out of the palace to the place where the driver was waiting. Juan suddenly opened the door of the secret cell and stood before the king. “O king!” he said, “now I have accomplished your command. I have found and seen your daughter in the secret room, and she has given me this ring.”The king was amazed, and said to himself that, had he known that the wagon contained any one inside, he would not have allowed it to be brought to his hidden daughter. He said to Juan, “You have told the truth, that anything can be discovered if money is used; but you shall not marry my daughter.”“Remember your promise,” said Juan.“Wait, and I will ask the princess,” said the king. “She might refuse.”“Whether she refuses or not, she is to be my wife, for I have seen her and found her,” replied Juan.“Then you shall have her,” said the king.So Juan was married to the princess, and there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. The king, however, was very sorry that his daughter had married Juan, who had now the right to inherit the throne from him. He could not endure the idea, so he pondered night and day how to kill Juan under some pretext or other. Juan learned of the king’s plot, and decided to leave the city for a while. He asked his wife for permission to go and visit the little hut in which he was born, and at last she consented.One day Juan left the palace and went to the country. While he was walking in the woods near his old home, two birds flew to him. “Juan, take this ring with you: it has magic power, and will furnish you whatever you ask of it,” said the male bird.“Here, take this pen-point, and use it whenever the king asks you to write for him,” said the female bird. “Remember, Juan, you do not need to have any ink; you can use your saliva,” it continued. “Now go back to the kingdom, and do not be afraid of the king’s plots,” said the two birds together. So Juan went back to the palace, and lived there with his wife.One day the king called Juan, and ordered him to write something. The king thought that if Juan should make any mistakes in the writing, he would order him to be executed. Juan used the pen-point which the second bird had given him. The king furnished him only paper, but no ink, so Juan used his saliva. “Write this, Juan,” said the king: “ ‘It is not right that you should be heir to my crown, and successor to the throne.’ ”Juan wrote the words just as the king had given them, and they appeared on the paper in letters of pure gold. The king was very much surprised by this demonstration of Juan’s ability.Then the king continued, “Write this: ‘You ought not to inherit the crown, you who were born in a little village, and whose ancestors are unknown.’ ” Juan wrote this dictation, and, as before, the letters were of pure gold. Again the king said, “Write now what I shall say: ‘You cannot cheat a king like me; you saw my daughter the princess because you were hiding in the wagon of gold.’ ”Juan wrote these words, and they were in pure gold too. The king was now sad, for he could think of no other way in which to detect a fault in Juan. So he dismissed his son-in-law, and showed the queen the golden letters that Juan had written. Juan returned to his apartments.When night came, Juan decided to ask his magic ring for a tower which should stand beside the palace of the king. During the night the tower was erected; it was garrisoned with field-marshals, colonels, and soldiers. Early in the morning the king was surprised to see this tall tower standing beside his palace. He said to himself, “I rule the kingdom, and the kingdom is mine; this tower is in my kingdom, therefore the tower is mine.” So the king went out of the palace and entered the tower. No one saluted him. Then he called Juan, and asked him about the tower. Juan answered that its presence there was due to the will and power of God. When Juan and the king together entered the tower, all the soldiers lined up and saluted Juan, and music was heard everywhere. Everything inside was made of solid silver and gold. The king was astounded at the magic power of his son-in-law, whom he was trying to kill.“Juan,” said the king, “wipe away this tower and erect at this moment a palace in its place. If you can do this, you shall be the king of the whole of Spain.” By the magic power of the ring, Juan was able to fulfil the command, and the tower was changed into a beautiful palace. The council of the kingdom, at the order of the king, agreed to crown Juan and his wife king and queen. There was great rejoicing throughout the realm. The old king and his wife abandoned the palace, and went to live in an abbey, where they died.Juan now called the merchant, his former master, to the palace. The merchant was afraid, for he feared that the king wished to do him mischief; he did not know that Juan was now king. But Juan received him affectionately, and from that time on the merchant, Juan, and the beautiful princess lived together happily in the palace.It will be noticed that the Tagalog poem differs from the three oral versions, in that after Juan has won the first wager from the king, his skill is subjected to further tests, which he comes out of successfully through the aid of magic objects given him by birds. In other words, the poem carries on the folk-tale by adding some additional episodes. The fact that the folk-tales, both Pampango and Tagalog, preserve the simple structure, while only the printed Tagalog verse-form seeks to elaborate and extend the tale, suggests that the simpler form is the older, and that the anonymous author of the romance added to the oral material for mere purposes of length. As it is, the poem is very short compared with the other popular metrical stories, which average well over 2000 lines. The localization of the events in Spain signifies nothing.The story is known also in southern Europe: e.g., in Greece (Von Hahn, No. 13), in Sicily (Gonzenbach, No. 68; Pitrè, Nos. 95, 96). In the Greek version, after the hero has decided to risk his neck for the hand of the hidden princess, he goes to a shepherd and has himself covered with the hide of a lamb with golden fleece. In this disguise he is taken to the princess. In the night he throws off his fleece covering and makes love to the princess, who finally accepts him, and tells him how he may be able to recognize her among her maidens, all of whom, herself included, her father will change into ducks, and then will require the youth to pick out the duck which is the princess. He succeeds, and wins her hand in marriage. In Gonzenbach, No. 68, the hero is one of three brothers who set out to seek their fortunes. They each come in succession to the beautiful city where the king has issued the proclamation that whoever can find his hidden daughter within eight days shall receive her hand in marriage; whoever tries and fails, loses his head. The first two brothers fail and are killed. The youngest, arriving in the city and reading the proclamation, determines to take the risk. He is advised by an old beggar-woman how to find the princess. He has goldsmiths make a golden lion with crystal eyes. The animal is so contrived that it plays continually beautiful music. The hero hides inside, and the old woman takes the lion to the king, to whom she lends it. Then follow the discovery of the princess, her acceptance of the hero’s love, the token given to the hero, etc. The hero is obliged to pick the princess out from among her eleven maids who look exactly like her. In Pitrè, No. 95, we find practically the same incidents recorded: two older sons of a merchant go off to seek their fortunes, and lose their heads because they cannot discover the princess “within a year, a month, and a day.” The youngest comes in turn to the same country, wagers his head, and searches a year and fifteen days in vain. On the advice of an old woman, he has built a goldenàcula(just what this word means I have been unable to determine) large enough to contain a person playing a musical instrument. Four men carry theàculato the palace; discovery of the princess follows. Second test: to pick the princess out from twenty-four maidens dressed exactly alike.In none of these three stories (nor in Pitrè, No. 96, which is a shorter variant of No. 95) does the opening resemble our forms of the tale. Nor in any of the three, either, does the hero bring the wager on himself because of the announcement he makes that he who has gold can discover anything. With this detail, however, compare the couplet which the hero displays in Pitrè, No. 96:—“Cu’ havi dinari fa chiddu chi voli,Cu’ havi bon cavallu va unni voli.”The line “He who has gold can do whatever he wishes” is almost identical with the corresponding line in the Tagalog verse story.It is to be noted that the bride-wager incident in this group of stories resembles closely the same episode in ourNo. 19. The opening of ourNo. 21has been influenced by the setting of the stories of the Carancal group (No. 3).

I have a variant of this story, “Juan the Poor,” told more briefly, narrated by Andrea Mariano, a Tagalog, who heard it from her little brother. It runs thus in outline:—

Juan is the son of a beggar. The beggar dies, and the son sells himself to a merchant for money to bury his father properly. After Juan has been educated, he posts this sign in front of the merchant’s house: “I can trace everything that is lost.—Juan.” The king sees the sign, and requires the boy to discover his hidden daughter. Method: Golden carriage with Juan playing music inside; old man hired to push it. The king borrows the carriage and takes it to his daughter. When alone with the princess, Juan declares his love, and she gives him her ring. Next day the carriage is returned to the old man. Juan takes the ring to the king, and is given the princess’s hand in marriage because he is so wise.

Juan is the son of a beggar. The beggar dies, and the son sells himself to a merchant for money to bury his father properly. After Juan has been educated, he posts this sign in front of the merchant’s house: “I can trace everything that is lost.—Juan.” The king sees the sign, and requires the boy to discover his hidden daughter. Method: Golden carriage with Juan playing music inside; old man hired to push it. The king borrows the carriage and takes it to his daughter. When alone with the princess, Juan declares his love, and she gives him her ring. Next day the carriage is returned to the old man. Juan takes the ring to the king, and is given the princess’s hand in marriage because he is so wise.

For another Tagalog variant see “The King, the Princess, and the Poor Boy” (JAFL 20 : 307). This is almost identical with the variant above, except that the hero is advised by two statues how to discover where the princess is. Furthermore, the hero is discoveredwiththe princess after he has gained access to her by means of the gilt carriage and music-box.

The fullest form of the story, however, is the Tagalog metrical romance popularly known under the title “Juan Bachiller.” The full title runs as follows: “The Sad Life of a Father and of his Son named Juan, in the Kingdom of Spain. The son sold himself to a merchant on condition that he would bury the corpse of his father.” My copy bears the date 1907, but this is merely a reprint of an older edition. Retana cites an edition dated 1902 (No. 4337) and one before 1898 (No. 4156). The poem is in 12-syllable lines, and contains 350 quatrains. It is still very popular among the Tagalogs, but does not appear to have been printed in any of the other Philippine languages. Inasmuch as there is a close connection between our variants and the verse form of the story, I give a prose paraphrase of the latter:—

There was once a poor beggar, Serbando, who had an only son named Juan. They lived in the kingdom of Spain. They had a little hut outside the city in which Serbando used to go to beg their living. One morning, when Juan returned home from school and was playing around their littlehovel, he heard many kinds of birds speaking to him thus: “Juan, be patient and toil in poverty. The time will come when God will reward you.” Then a large bird flew to him, and said, “Juan, leave your little miserable hut; go and seek your fortune.” When his father returned home, Juan told him all about the advice of the birds. Serbando did not believe that birds could talk, and doubted, of course, the truth of what his son said.Now, it happened that Serbando became sick, and after a short time died, leaving his son alone in the world. Poor Juan wept bitterly over the dead body. He did not know what to do. He covered the corpse of his father, and then went crying out through the streets of the city, “Who wants to buy a slave?” A merchant heard him. “I will serve you as long as I live if you will only see to the burial of my dead father,” said Juan to the merchant. Without hesitation the merchant assented, and together they went to the little hut. The merchant ordered and paid for a funeral; there was a procession, a mass, and after the burial a banquet. Then the merchant took the boy to live with him in the city where the king and queen lived. Moreover, this kind merchant sent Juan to school, and treated him as a son. In time Juan took his bachelor’s degree, and was greatly admired and respected by his teachers.One afternoon Juan put a notice on the door of the merchant’s house, which read thus: “If we use money, there is nothing we cannot discover.” It happened that on that same afternoon the king and queen were driving through the streets of the city. The king chanced to fix his eyes on the sign which Juan had put up. He did not believe that the notice was true; and so, when he arrived at the palace, he ordered the merchant to appear before him. The merchant was very much frightened at the summons, so Juan himself went and presented himself before the king.“Is the notice on your door true?” asked the king.“It is true, your Majesty,” said Juan.“Then go and find my daughter. If you can find her, she shall be your wife; if not, you shall lose your head three days from now,” said the king, who hid his daughter in a secret room in the palace.Juan went home and called all the best goldsmiths in the kingdom. He told them to make a little wagon of pure gold, with a secret cell inside in which a man could sit with a musical instrument and play it. The goldsmiths finished the wagon in two days and were paid off. Then Juan called a man and told him to drag this little wagon along the street toward the palace, and then to the plaza. After entering the secret cell with his musical instrument, he told the driver to do as he had been directed. The man began to drag the wagon along the street toward the palace. Men, women, and children crowded both sides of the street to see this wagon of pure gold, which gave out such sweet music. When the wagon passed in front of the palace, the queen was amazed at it. She asked the king to summon the driver before him. So the king called the driver, and asked him to bring the golden wagon into the hall where the queen was.“How much will you sell this for?” asked the queen.“I will not sell it,” answered the driver.“Can you not lend it to me until this afternoon?” said the king; and at last the driver agreed to lend the wagon for a few hours.The queen then dragged the wagon along the hall, and took it to her daughter in the secret room. The princess was delighted. As she pushedit forwards and backwards, sweet music charmed her ears. At last Juan came out of the secret cell in the wagon and knelt before the princess. He told her why he had been led to play this trick, and last of all he told her that he would have lost his life on the morrow if he had not been able to find her. He also began to express his love for her. At first she hesitated to accept his protestations of affection; but at last she accepted him, and gave him one of her rings as a sign that she would marry him. Fearing that he might be caught in the room by some one else, Juan now entered the secret cell of the wagon again.At last the king came, and started to drag the wagon out of the palace to the place where the driver was waiting. Juan suddenly opened the door of the secret cell and stood before the king. “O king!” he said, “now I have accomplished your command. I have found and seen your daughter in the secret room, and she has given me this ring.”The king was amazed, and said to himself that, had he known that the wagon contained any one inside, he would not have allowed it to be brought to his hidden daughter. He said to Juan, “You have told the truth, that anything can be discovered if money is used; but you shall not marry my daughter.”“Remember your promise,” said Juan.“Wait, and I will ask the princess,” said the king. “She might refuse.”“Whether she refuses or not, she is to be my wife, for I have seen her and found her,” replied Juan.“Then you shall have her,” said the king.So Juan was married to the princess, and there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. The king, however, was very sorry that his daughter had married Juan, who had now the right to inherit the throne from him. He could not endure the idea, so he pondered night and day how to kill Juan under some pretext or other. Juan learned of the king’s plot, and decided to leave the city for a while. He asked his wife for permission to go and visit the little hut in which he was born, and at last she consented.One day Juan left the palace and went to the country. While he was walking in the woods near his old home, two birds flew to him. “Juan, take this ring with you: it has magic power, and will furnish you whatever you ask of it,” said the male bird.“Here, take this pen-point, and use it whenever the king asks you to write for him,” said the female bird. “Remember, Juan, you do not need to have any ink; you can use your saliva,” it continued. “Now go back to the kingdom, and do not be afraid of the king’s plots,” said the two birds together. So Juan went back to the palace, and lived there with his wife.One day the king called Juan, and ordered him to write something. The king thought that if Juan should make any mistakes in the writing, he would order him to be executed. Juan used the pen-point which the second bird had given him. The king furnished him only paper, but no ink, so Juan used his saliva. “Write this, Juan,” said the king: “ ‘It is not right that you should be heir to my crown, and successor to the throne.’ ”Juan wrote the words just as the king had given them, and they appeared on the paper in letters of pure gold. The king was very much surprised by this demonstration of Juan’s ability.Then the king continued, “Write this: ‘You ought not to inherit the crown, you who were born in a little village, and whose ancestors are unknown.’ ” Juan wrote this dictation, and, as before, the letters were of pure gold. Again the king said, “Write now what I shall say: ‘You cannot cheat a king like me; you saw my daughter the princess because you were hiding in the wagon of gold.’ ”Juan wrote these words, and they were in pure gold too. The king was now sad, for he could think of no other way in which to detect a fault in Juan. So he dismissed his son-in-law, and showed the queen the golden letters that Juan had written. Juan returned to his apartments.When night came, Juan decided to ask his magic ring for a tower which should stand beside the palace of the king. During the night the tower was erected; it was garrisoned with field-marshals, colonels, and soldiers. Early in the morning the king was surprised to see this tall tower standing beside his palace. He said to himself, “I rule the kingdom, and the kingdom is mine; this tower is in my kingdom, therefore the tower is mine.” So the king went out of the palace and entered the tower. No one saluted him. Then he called Juan, and asked him about the tower. Juan answered that its presence there was due to the will and power of God. When Juan and the king together entered the tower, all the soldiers lined up and saluted Juan, and music was heard everywhere. Everything inside was made of solid silver and gold. The king was astounded at the magic power of his son-in-law, whom he was trying to kill.“Juan,” said the king, “wipe away this tower and erect at this moment a palace in its place. If you can do this, you shall be the king of the whole of Spain.” By the magic power of the ring, Juan was able to fulfil the command, and the tower was changed into a beautiful palace. The council of the kingdom, at the order of the king, agreed to crown Juan and his wife king and queen. There was great rejoicing throughout the realm. The old king and his wife abandoned the palace, and went to live in an abbey, where they died.Juan now called the merchant, his former master, to the palace. The merchant was afraid, for he feared that the king wished to do him mischief; he did not know that Juan was now king. But Juan received him affectionately, and from that time on the merchant, Juan, and the beautiful princess lived together happily in the palace.

There was once a poor beggar, Serbando, who had an only son named Juan. They lived in the kingdom of Spain. They had a little hut outside the city in which Serbando used to go to beg their living. One morning, when Juan returned home from school and was playing around their littlehovel, he heard many kinds of birds speaking to him thus: “Juan, be patient and toil in poverty. The time will come when God will reward you.” Then a large bird flew to him, and said, “Juan, leave your little miserable hut; go and seek your fortune.” When his father returned home, Juan told him all about the advice of the birds. Serbando did not believe that birds could talk, and doubted, of course, the truth of what his son said.

Now, it happened that Serbando became sick, and after a short time died, leaving his son alone in the world. Poor Juan wept bitterly over the dead body. He did not know what to do. He covered the corpse of his father, and then went crying out through the streets of the city, “Who wants to buy a slave?” A merchant heard him. “I will serve you as long as I live if you will only see to the burial of my dead father,” said Juan to the merchant. Without hesitation the merchant assented, and together they went to the little hut. The merchant ordered and paid for a funeral; there was a procession, a mass, and after the burial a banquet. Then the merchant took the boy to live with him in the city where the king and queen lived. Moreover, this kind merchant sent Juan to school, and treated him as a son. In time Juan took his bachelor’s degree, and was greatly admired and respected by his teachers.

One afternoon Juan put a notice on the door of the merchant’s house, which read thus: “If we use money, there is nothing we cannot discover.” It happened that on that same afternoon the king and queen were driving through the streets of the city. The king chanced to fix his eyes on the sign which Juan had put up. He did not believe that the notice was true; and so, when he arrived at the palace, he ordered the merchant to appear before him. The merchant was very much frightened at the summons, so Juan himself went and presented himself before the king.

“Is the notice on your door true?” asked the king.

“It is true, your Majesty,” said Juan.

“Then go and find my daughter. If you can find her, she shall be your wife; if not, you shall lose your head three days from now,” said the king, who hid his daughter in a secret room in the palace.

Juan went home and called all the best goldsmiths in the kingdom. He told them to make a little wagon of pure gold, with a secret cell inside in which a man could sit with a musical instrument and play it. The goldsmiths finished the wagon in two days and were paid off. Then Juan called a man and told him to drag this little wagon along the street toward the palace, and then to the plaza. After entering the secret cell with his musical instrument, he told the driver to do as he had been directed. The man began to drag the wagon along the street toward the palace. Men, women, and children crowded both sides of the street to see this wagon of pure gold, which gave out such sweet music. When the wagon passed in front of the palace, the queen was amazed at it. She asked the king to summon the driver before him. So the king called the driver, and asked him to bring the golden wagon into the hall where the queen was.

“How much will you sell this for?” asked the queen.

“I will not sell it,” answered the driver.

“Can you not lend it to me until this afternoon?” said the king; and at last the driver agreed to lend the wagon for a few hours.

The queen then dragged the wagon along the hall, and took it to her daughter in the secret room. The princess was delighted. As she pushedit forwards and backwards, sweet music charmed her ears. At last Juan came out of the secret cell in the wagon and knelt before the princess. He told her why he had been led to play this trick, and last of all he told her that he would have lost his life on the morrow if he had not been able to find her. He also began to express his love for her. At first she hesitated to accept his protestations of affection; but at last she accepted him, and gave him one of her rings as a sign that she would marry him. Fearing that he might be caught in the room by some one else, Juan now entered the secret cell of the wagon again.

At last the king came, and started to drag the wagon out of the palace to the place where the driver was waiting. Juan suddenly opened the door of the secret cell and stood before the king. “O king!” he said, “now I have accomplished your command. I have found and seen your daughter in the secret room, and she has given me this ring.”

The king was amazed, and said to himself that, had he known that the wagon contained any one inside, he would not have allowed it to be brought to his hidden daughter. He said to Juan, “You have told the truth, that anything can be discovered if money is used; but you shall not marry my daughter.”

“Remember your promise,” said Juan.

“Wait, and I will ask the princess,” said the king. “She might refuse.”

“Whether she refuses or not, she is to be my wife, for I have seen her and found her,” replied Juan.

“Then you shall have her,” said the king.

So Juan was married to the princess, and there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. The king, however, was very sorry that his daughter had married Juan, who had now the right to inherit the throne from him. He could not endure the idea, so he pondered night and day how to kill Juan under some pretext or other. Juan learned of the king’s plot, and decided to leave the city for a while. He asked his wife for permission to go and visit the little hut in which he was born, and at last she consented.

One day Juan left the palace and went to the country. While he was walking in the woods near his old home, two birds flew to him. “Juan, take this ring with you: it has magic power, and will furnish you whatever you ask of it,” said the male bird.

“Here, take this pen-point, and use it whenever the king asks you to write for him,” said the female bird. “Remember, Juan, you do not need to have any ink; you can use your saliva,” it continued. “Now go back to the kingdom, and do not be afraid of the king’s plots,” said the two birds together. So Juan went back to the palace, and lived there with his wife.

One day the king called Juan, and ordered him to write something. The king thought that if Juan should make any mistakes in the writing, he would order him to be executed. Juan used the pen-point which the second bird had given him. The king furnished him only paper, but no ink, so Juan used his saliva. “Write this, Juan,” said the king: “ ‘It is not right that you should be heir to my crown, and successor to the throne.’ ”

Juan wrote the words just as the king had given them, and they appeared on the paper in letters of pure gold. The king was very much surprised by this demonstration of Juan’s ability.

Then the king continued, “Write this: ‘You ought not to inherit the crown, you who were born in a little village, and whose ancestors are unknown.’ ” Juan wrote this dictation, and, as before, the letters were of pure gold. Again the king said, “Write now what I shall say: ‘You cannot cheat a king like me; you saw my daughter the princess because you were hiding in the wagon of gold.’ ”

Juan wrote these words, and they were in pure gold too. The king was now sad, for he could think of no other way in which to detect a fault in Juan. So he dismissed his son-in-law, and showed the queen the golden letters that Juan had written. Juan returned to his apartments.

When night came, Juan decided to ask his magic ring for a tower which should stand beside the palace of the king. During the night the tower was erected; it was garrisoned with field-marshals, colonels, and soldiers. Early in the morning the king was surprised to see this tall tower standing beside his palace. He said to himself, “I rule the kingdom, and the kingdom is mine; this tower is in my kingdom, therefore the tower is mine.” So the king went out of the palace and entered the tower. No one saluted him. Then he called Juan, and asked him about the tower. Juan answered that its presence there was due to the will and power of God. When Juan and the king together entered the tower, all the soldiers lined up and saluted Juan, and music was heard everywhere. Everything inside was made of solid silver and gold. The king was astounded at the magic power of his son-in-law, whom he was trying to kill.

“Juan,” said the king, “wipe away this tower and erect at this moment a palace in its place. If you can do this, you shall be the king of the whole of Spain.” By the magic power of the ring, Juan was able to fulfil the command, and the tower was changed into a beautiful palace. The council of the kingdom, at the order of the king, agreed to crown Juan and his wife king and queen. There was great rejoicing throughout the realm. The old king and his wife abandoned the palace, and went to live in an abbey, where they died.

Juan now called the merchant, his former master, to the palace. The merchant was afraid, for he feared that the king wished to do him mischief; he did not know that Juan was now king. But Juan received him affectionately, and from that time on the merchant, Juan, and the beautiful princess lived together happily in the palace.

It will be noticed that the Tagalog poem differs from the three oral versions, in that after Juan has won the first wager from the king, his skill is subjected to further tests, which he comes out of successfully through the aid of magic objects given him by birds. In other words, the poem carries on the folk-tale by adding some additional episodes. The fact that the folk-tales, both Pampango and Tagalog, preserve the simple structure, while only the printed Tagalog verse-form seeks to elaborate and extend the tale, suggests that the simpler form is the older, and that the anonymous author of the romance added to the oral material for mere purposes of length. As it is, the poem is very short compared with the other popular metrical stories, which average well over 2000 lines. The localization of the events in Spain signifies nothing.

The story is known also in southern Europe: e.g., in Greece (Von Hahn, No. 13), in Sicily (Gonzenbach, No. 68; Pitrè, Nos. 95, 96). In the Greek version, after the hero has decided to risk his neck for the hand of the hidden princess, he goes to a shepherd and has himself covered with the hide of a lamb with golden fleece. In this disguise he is taken to the princess. In the night he throws off his fleece covering and makes love to the princess, who finally accepts him, and tells him how he may be able to recognize her among her maidens, all of whom, herself included, her father will change into ducks, and then will require the youth to pick out the duck which is the princess. He succeeds, and wins her hand in marriage. In Gonzenbach, No. 68, the hero is one of three brothers who set out to seek their fortunes. They each come in succession to the beautiful city where the king has issued the proclamation that whoever can find his hidden daughter within eight days shall receive her hand in marriage; whoever tries and fails, loses his head. The first two brothers fail and are killed. The youngest, arriving in the city and reading the proclamation, determines to take the risk. He is advised by an old beggar-woman how to find the princess. He has goldsmiths make a golden lion with crystal eyes. The animal is so contrived that it plays continually beautiful music. The hero hides inside, and the old woman takes the lion to the king, to whom she lends it. Then follow the discovery of the princess, her acceptance of the hero’s love, the token given to the hero, etc. The hero is obliged to pick the princess out from among her eleven maids who look exactly like her. In Pitrè, No. 95, we find practically the same incidents recorded: two older sons of a merchant go off to seek their fortunes, and lose their heads because they cannot discover the princess “within a year, a month, and a day.” The youngest comes in turn to the same country, wagers his head, and searches a year and fifteen days in vain. On the advice of an old woman, he has built a goldenàcula(just what this word means I have been unable to determine) large enough to contain a person playing a musical instrument. Four men carry theàculato the palace; discovery of the princess follows. Second test: to pick the princess out from twenty-four maidens dressed exactly alike.

In none of these three stories (nor in Pitrè, No. 96, which is a shorter variant of No. 95) does the opening resemble our forms of the tale. Nor in any of the three, either, does the hero bring the wager on himself because of the announcement he makes that he who has gold can discover anything. With this detail, however, compare the couplet which the hero displays in Pitrè, No. 96:—

“Cu’ havi dinari fa chiddu chi voli,Cu’ havi bon cavallu va unni voli.”

“Cu’ havi dinari fa chiddu chi voli,

Cu’ havi bon cavallu va unni voli.”

The line “He who has gold can do whatever he wishes” is almost identical with the corresponding line in the Tagalog verse story.

It is to be noted that the bride-wager incident in this group of stories resembles closely the same episode in ourNo. 19. The opening of ourNo. 21has been influenced by the setting of the stories of the Carancal group (No. 3).

The Reward of Kindness.Narrated by Elisa Cordero, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna, who heard the story from a Tagalog friend.In a certain town there once lived a couple who had never had a child. They had been married for nearly five years, and were very anxious for a son. The name of the wife was Clara; and of the man, Philip.One cloudy night in December, while they were talking by the window of their house, Clara said to her husband that she was going to pray thenovena,1so that Heaven would give them a child. “I would even let my son serve the Devil, if he would but give us a son!” As her husband was willing that she should pray thenovena, Clara began the next day her fervent devotions to the Virgin Mary. She went to church every afternoon for nine days. She carried a small prayer-book with her, and prayed until six o’clock every evening. At last she finished hernovenario;2but no child was born to them, and the couple was disappointed.A month had passed, when, to their great happiness, Clara gave birth to a son. The child they nicknamed Idó. Idó was greatly cherished by his parents, for he was their only child; but he did not care much to stay at home. He early began to show a fondness for travelling abroad, and was always to be found in the dense woods on the outskirts of the town.One afternoon, when the family was gathered together around a small table, talking, a knock was heard at the door. “Come in!” said Philip.“No, I just want to talk with your wife,” answered a hoarse voice from without.Clara, trembling, opened the door, and, to her great surprise, she saw standing there a man who looked like a bear. “A devil, a devil!” she exclaimed, but the Devil pacified her, and said, “Clara, I have come here to get your son you promised me a long time ago. Now that the day has come when your son can be of some service to me, will you deny your promise?”Clara could make no reply at first. She merely called her son; and when he came, she said to the Devil, “Here is my son. Take him, since he is yours.” Idó, who was at this time about seventeen years old, was not frightened by the Devil.“Come,” said the Devil, “and be my follower!” At first Idó refused; but he finally consented to go, because of his mother’s promise.The Devil now took Idó to his cave, far away outside the town. He tried in many ways to tempt Idó, but was unable to do so, because Idó was a youth of strong character. Finally the Devil decided to exchange clothes with him. Idó was obliged to put on the bear-like clothes of the Devil and to give him his own soldier-suit. Then the Devil produced a large bag full of money, and said to Idó, “Take this money and go travelling about the world for seven years. If you live to the end of that time, and spend this money only in doing good, I will set you free. If, however, you spend the money extravagantly, you will have to go to hell with me.” When he had said these words, he disappeared.Idó now began his wanderings from town to town. Whenever people saw him, they were afraid of him, and would refuse to give him shelter; but Idó would give them money from his bag, and then they would gather about him and be kind to him.After many years he happened to come to a town where he saw an old woman summoned before a court of justice. She was accused of owing a sum of money, but was unable to pay her debt and the fine imposed on her. When Idó paid her fine for her and thus released her from prison, the woman could hardly express her gratitude. As most of the other people about were afraid of Idó and he had no place to sleep, this woman decided to take him home with her.Now, this old woman had three daughters. When she reached home with the bear-like man, she called her eldest daughter, and said, “Now, my daughter, here is a man who delivered me from prison. As I can do nothing to reward him for his great kindness, I want you to take him for your husband.”The daughter replied, “Mother, why have you brought this ugly man here? No, I cannot marry him. I can find a better husband.”On hearing this harsh reply, the mother could not say aword. She called her second daughter, and explained her wishes to her; but the younger daughter refused, just as her sister had refused, and she made fun of the man.The mother was very much disappointed, but she was unable to persuade her daughters to marry her benefactor. Finally she determined to try her youngest daughter. When the daughter heard her mother’s request, she said, “Mother, if to have me marry this man is the only way by which you can repay him for his kindness, I’ll gladly marry him.” The mother was very much pleased, but the two older daughters were very angry with their sister. The mother told the man of the decision of her youngest daughter, and a contract was signed between them. But before they were married, the bear-like man asked permission from the girl to be absent for one more year to finish his duty. She consented to his going, and gave him half her ring as a memento.At the end of the year, which was the last of his seven years’ wandering, the bear-like man went to the Devil, and told him that he had finished his duty. The Devil said, “You have beaten me. Now that you have performed your seven years’ wandering, and have spent the money honestly, let us exchange clothes again!” So the man received back his soldierlike suit, which made him look like a knight, and the Devil took back his bear-skin.Then the man returned to Clara’s3house. When his arrival was announced to the family, the two older daughters dressed themselves in their best, for they thought that he was a suitor come to see them; but when the man showed the ring and asked for the hand of Clara’s youngest daughter, the two nearly died with vexation, while the youngest daughter was very happy.Notes.This story is a variant of Grimm, No. 101, “Bear-Skin,” which it follows fairly closely from the point where the hero makes his pact with the Devil. The bibliography of this cycle is fully given in Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 427–435, to which I have nothing to add except this story itself! Our version is the only one so far recorded from the Orient, and there can be no doubt that it is derived directly from Europe. Ralston and Moe seem to detect a relationship between this cycle anda Hindoo saga translated into Chinese in the seventh century, and from the Chinese into French in the middle of the nineteenth century, by the French orientalist Stanislas Julien; but Bolte is of the opinion (p. 435) that there is probably no connection between the two. In any case, to judge from recorded variants, the Tagalog story is an importation from the Occident.And yet there are not a few deviations in our version from the norm, if Grimm’s tale may be considered representative of the cycle. The most important of these is the opening, which is one form of the “Promised Child” opening (see Macculloch, 415 ff.). This formula of a childless couple finally promising in despair to let their child serve even the Devil if they are granted offspring, or to be satisfied with an animal-child or some other monstrosity, is a favorite one in FilipinoMärchen(cf.Nos. 3and variants,19and variant, and23), and its use here may have been influenced by the beginning of the next tale.Other differences may be noted briefly: (1) The compact made between the hero and the Devil does not include the characteristic prohibitions in the European versions; namely, that the hero is not to comb his hair, wash himself, trim his beard, etc., during his seven years of wandering. The Devil seems to rely merely on his bear-suit, which he makes the hero wear, to produce insurmountable difficulties. It may be that the prohibitions mentioned above were omitted because they involved conditions wholly foreign to Filipino conception. The natives take great pride in their hair, and always dress it carefully, are scrupulously clean personally, and are beardless! I can cite no parallel in folk-tales for the condition substituted; i.e., if the wanderer does good with his money, the Devil will have no power over him at the end of the seven years, while, if he spends it extravagantly and foolishly, he goes to hell. Perhaps none need be sought outside of actual experience. (2) The hero is supplied with money from a large bag which the Devil gives him, not from the inexhaustible pockets of a magic green coat, as in Grimm. The mention of the hero’ssoldier-suit, by the way, since nothing has been said earlier in the story of his having followed the profession of arms, is likely a reminiscence of the characteristic opening of the European versions, where it is a poorsoldierwho has the experience with the Devil. (3) The person ransomed by the hero in our story is an old woman instead of an old man. (4) The two disappointed sisters do not kill themselves, and hence the Devil does not reappear at the end of the story,—as he does in Grimm,—and say, “I have now got two souls in the place of thy one!”The broken-ring recognition on the return home is a feature which I believe occurs in no other Filipino folk-tale, but is met with not infrequently in European saga and story (cf. Köhler-Bolte, 117, 584; see also Bolte-Polívka, 1 : 234; 2 : 348).1Novena, a devotion consisting of prayers held for nine consecutive days and asking for some special favor.2Novenario, the act of performing or holding anovena.3There seems to be an inconsistency here,—Clara was the mother of Idó,—or, if not an inconsistency (there might be two Claras), at least a useless and confusing repetition of names.

The Reward of Kindness.Narrated by Elisa Cordero, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna, who heard the story from a Tagalog friend.In a certain town there once lived a couple who had never had a child. They had been married for nearly five years, and were very anxious for a son. The name of the wife was Clara; and of the man, Philip.One cloudy night in December, while they were talking by the window of their house, Clara said to her husband that she was going to pray thenovena,1so that Heaven would give them a child. “I would even let my son serve the Devil, if he would but give us a son!” As her husband was willing that she should pray thenovena, Clara began the next day her fervent devotions to the Virgin Mary. She went to church every afternoon for nine days. She carried a small prayer-book with her, and prayed until six o’clock every evening. At last she finished hernovenario;2but no child was born to them, and the couple was disappointed.A month had passed, when, to their great happiness, Clara gave birth to a son. The child they nicknamed Idó. Idó was greatly cherished by his parents, for he was their only child; but he did not care much to stay at home. He early began to show a fondness for travelling abroad, and was always to be found in the dense woods on the outskirts of the town.One afternoon, when the family was gathered together around a small table, talking, a knock was heard at the door. “Come in!” said Philip.“No, I just want to talk with your wife,” answered a hoarse voice from without.Clara, trembling, opened the door, and, to her great surprise, she saw standing there a man who looked like a bear. “A devil, a devil!” she exclaimed, but the Devil pacified her, and said, “Clara, I have come here to get your son you promised me a long time ago. Now that the day has come when your son can be of some service to me, will you deny your promise?”Clara could make no reply at first. She merely called her son; and when he came, she said to the Devil, “Here is my son. Take him, since he is yours.” Idó, who was at this time about seventeen years old, was not frightened by the Devil.“Come,” said the Devil, “and be my follower!” At first Idó refused; but he finally consented to go, because of his mother’s promise.The Devil now took Idó to his cave, far away outside the town. He tried in many ways to tempt Idó, but was unable to do so, because Idó was a youth of strong character. Finally the Devil decided to exchange clothes with him. Idó was obliged to put on the bear-like clothes of the Devil and to give him his own soldier-suit. Then the Devil produced a large bag full of money, and said to Idó, “Take this money and go travelling about the world for seven years. If you live to the end of that time, and spend this money only in doing good, I will set you free. If, however, you spend the money extravagantly, you will have to go to hell with me.” When he had said these words, he disappeared.Idó now began his wanderings from town to town. Whenever people saw him, they were afraid of him, and would refuse to give him shelter; but Idó would give them money from his bag, and then they would gather about him and be kind to him.After many years he happened to come to a town where he saw an old woman summoned before a court of justice. She was accused of owing a sum of money, but was unable to pay her debt and the fine imposed on her. When Idó paid her fine for her and thus released her from prison, the woman could hardly express her gratitude. As most of the other people about were afraid of Idó and he had no place to sleep, this woman decided to take him home with her.Now, this old woman had three daughters. When she reached home with the bear-like man, she called her eldest daughter, and said, “Now, my daughter, here is a man who delivered me from prison. As I can do nothing to reward him for his great kindness, I want you to take him for your husband.”The daughter replied, “Mother, why have you brought this ugly man here? No, I cannot marry him. I can find a better husband.”On hearing this harsh reply, the mother could not say aword. She called her second daughter, and explained her wishes to her; but the younger daughter refused, just as her sister had refused, and she made fun of the man.The mother was very much disappointed, but she was unable to persuade her daughters to marry her benefactor. Finally she determined to try her youngest daughter. When the daughter heard her mother’s request, she said, “Mother, if to have me marry this man is the only way by which you can repay him for his kindness, I’ll gladly marry him.” The mother was very much pleased, but the two older daughters were very angry with their sister. The mother told the man of the decision of her youngest daughter, and a contract was signed between them. But before they were married, the bear-like man asked permission from the girl to be absent for one more year to finish his duty. She consented to his going, and gave him half her ring as a memento.At the end of the year, which was the last of his seven years’ wandering, the bear-like man went to the Devil, and told him that he had finished his duty. The Devil said, “You have beaten me. Now that you have performed your seven years’ wandering, and have spent the money honestly, let us exchange clothes again!” So the man received back his soldierlike suit, which made him look like a knight, and the Devil took back his bear-skin.Then the man returned to Clara’s3house. When his arrival was announced to the family, the two older daughters dressed themselves in their best, for they thought that he was a suitor come to see them; but when the man showed the ring and asked for the hand of Clara’s youngest daughter, the two nearly died with vexation, while the youngest daughter was very happy.

Narrated by Elisa Cordero, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, La Laguna, who heard the story from a Tagalog friend.

In a certain town there once lived a couple who had never had a child. They had been married for nearly five years, and were very anxious for a son. The name of the wife was Clara; and of the man, Philip.

One cloudy night in December, while they were talking by the window of their house, Clara said to her husband that she was going to pray thenovena,1so that Heaven would give them a child. “I would even let my son serve the Devil, if he would but give us a son!” As her husband was willing that she should pray thenovena, Clara began the next day her fervent devotions to the Virgin Mary. She went to church every afternoon for nine days. She carried a small prayer-book with her, and prayed until six o’clock every evening. At last she finished hernovenario;2but no child was born to them, and the couple was disappointed.

A month had passed, when, to their great happiness, Clara gave birth to a son. The child they nicknamed Idó. Idó was greatly cherished by his parents, for he was their only child; but he did not care much to stay at home. He early began to show a fondness for travelling abroad, and was always to be found in the dense woods on the outskirts of the town.

One afternoon, when the family was gathered together around a small table, talking, a knock was heard at the door. “Come in!” said Philip.

“No, I just want to talk with your wife,” answered a hoarse voice from without.

Clara, trembling, opened the door, and, to her great surprise, she saw standing there a man who looked like a bear. “A devil, a devil!” she exclaimed, but the Devil pacified her, and said, “Clara, I have come here to get your son you promised me a long time ago. Now that the day has come when your son can be of some service to me, will you deny your promise?”

Clara could make no reply at first. She merely called her son; and when he came, she said to the Devil, “Here is my son. Take him, since he is yours.” Idó, who was at this time about seventeen years old, was not frightened by the Devil.

“Come,” said the Devil, “and be my follower!” At first Idó refused; but he finally consented to go, because of his mother’s promise.

The Devil now took Idó to his cave, far away outside the town. He tried in many ways to tempt Idó, but was unable to do so, because Idó was a youth of strong character. Finally the Devil decided to exchange clothes with him. Idó was obliged to put on the bear-like clothes of the Devil and to give him his own soldier-suit. Then the Devil produced a large bag full of money, and said to Idó, “Take this money and go travelling about the world for seven years. If you live to the end of that time, and spend this money only in doing good, I will set you free. If, however, you spend the money extravagantly, you will have to go to hell with me.” When he had said these words, he disappeared.

Idó now began his wanderings from town to town. Whenever people saw him, they were afraid of him, and would refuse to give him shelter; but Idó would give them money from his bag, and then they would gather about him and be kind to him.

After many years he happened to come to a town where he saw an old woman summoned before a court of justice. She was accused of owing a sum of money, but was unable to pay her debt and the fine imposed on her. When Idó paid her fine for her and thus released her from prison, the woman could hardly express her gratitude. As most of the other people about were afraid of Idó and he had no place to sleep, this woman decided to take him home with her.

Now, this old woman had three daughters. When she reached home with the bear-like man, she called her eldest daughter, and said, “Now, my daughter, here is a man who delivered me from prison. As I can do nothing to reward him for his great kindness, I want you to take him for your husband.”

The daughter replied, “Mother, why have you brought this ugly man here? No, I cannot marry him. I can find a better husband.”

On hearing this harsh reply, the mother could not say aword. She called her second daughter, and explained her wishes to her; but the younger daughter refused, just as her sister had refused, and she made fun of the man.

The mother was very much disappointed, but she was unable to persuade her daughters to marry her benefactor. Finally she determined to try her youngest daughter. When the daughter heard her mother’s request, she said, “Mother, if to have me marry this man is the only way by which you can repay him for his kindness, I’ll gladly marry him.” The mother was very much pleased, but the two older daughters were very angry with their sister. The mother told the man of the decision of her youngest daughter, and a contract was signed between them. But before they were married, the bear-like man asked permission from the girl to be absent for one more year to finish his duty. She consented to his going, and gave him half her ring as a memento.

At the end of the year, which was the last of his seven years’ wandering, the bear-like man went to the Devil, and told him that he had finished his duty. The Devil said, “You have beaten me. Now that you have performed your seven years’ wandering, and have spent the money honestly, let us exchange clothes again!” So the man received back his soldierlike suit, which made him look like a knight, and the Devil took back his bear-skin.

Then the man returned to Clara’s3house. When his arrival was announced to the family, the two older daughters dressed themselves in their best, for they thought that he was a suitor come to see them; but when the man showed the ring and asked for the hand of Clara’s youngest daughter, the two nearly died with vexation, while the youngest daughter was very happy.

Notes.This story is a variant of Grimm, No. 101, “Bear-Skin,” which it follows fairly closely from the point where the hero makes his pact with the Devil. The bibliography of this cycle is fully given in Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 427–435, to which I have nothing to add except this story itself! Our version is the only one so far recorded from the Orient, and there can be no doubt that it is derived directly from Europe. Ralston and Moe seem to detect a relationship between this cycle anda Hindoo saga translated into Chinese in the seventh century, and from the Chinese into French in the middle of the nineteenth century, by the French orientalist Stanislas Julien; but Bolte is of the opinion (p. 435) that there is probably no connection between the two. In any case, to judge from recorded variants, the Tagalog story is an importation from the Occident.And yet there are not a few deviations in our version from the norm, if Grimm’s tale may be considered representative of the cycle. The most important of these is the opening, which is one form of the “Promised Child” opening (see Macculloch, 415 ff.). This formula of a childless couple finally promising in despair to let their child serve even the Devil if they are granted offspring, or to be satisfied with an animal-child or some other monstrosity, is a favorite one in FilipinoMärchen(cf.Nos. 3and variants,19and variant, and23), and its use here may have been influenced by the beginning of the next tale.Other differences may be noted briefly: (1) The compact made between the hero and the Devil does not include the characteristic prohibitions in the European versions; namely, that the hero is not to comb his hair, wash himself, trim his beard, etc., during his seven years of wandering. The Devil seems to rely merely on his bear-suit, which he makes the hero wear, to produce insurmountable difficulties. It may be that the prohibitions mentioned above were omitted because they involved conditions wholly foreign to Filipino conception. The natives take great pride in their hair, and always dress it carefully, are scrupulously clean personally, and are beardless! I can cite no parallel in folk-tales for the condition substituted; i.e., if the wanderer does good with his money, the Devil will have no power over him at the end of the seven years, while, if he spends it extravagantly and foolishly, he goes to hell. Perhaps none need be sought outside of actual experience. (2) The hero is supplied with money from a large bag which the Devil gives him, not from the inexhaustible pockets of a magic green coat, as in Grimm. The mention of the hero’ssoldier-suit, by the way, since nothing has been said earlier in the story of his having followed the profession of arms, is likely a reminiscence of the characteristic opening of the European versions, where it is a poorsoldierwho has the experience with the Devil. (3) The person ransomed by the hero in our story is an old woman instead of an old man. (4) The two disappointed sisters do not kill themselves, and hence the Devil does not reappear at the end of the story,—as he does in Grimm,—and say, “I have now got two souls in the place of thy one!”The broken-ring recognition on the return home is a feature which I believe occurs in no other Filipino folk-tale, but is met with not infrequently in European saga and story (cf. Köhler-Bolte, 117, 584; see also Bolte-Polívka, 1 : 234; 2 : 348).

This story is a variant of Grimm, No. 101, “Bear-Skin,” which it follows fairly closely from the point where the hero makes his pact with the Devil. The bibliography of this cycle is fully given in Bolte-Polívka, 2 : 427–435, to which I have nothing to add except this story itself! Our version is the only one so far recorded from the Orient, and there can be no doubt that it is derived directly from Europe. Ralston and Moe seem to detect a relationship between this cycle anda Hindoo saga translated into Chinese in the seventh century, and from the Chinese into French in the middle of the nineteenth century, by the French orientalist Stanislas Julien; but Bolte is of the opinion (p. 435) that there is probably no connection between the two. In any case, to judge from recorded variants, the Tagalog story is an importation from the Occident.

And yet there are not a few deviations in our version from the norm, if Grimm’s tale may be considered representative of the cycle. The most important of these is the opening, which is one form of the “Promised Child” opening (see Macculloch, 415 ff.). This formula of a childless couple finally promising in despair to let their child serve even the Devil if they are granted offspring, or to be satisfied with an animal-child or some other monstrosity, is a favorite one in FilipinoMärchen(cf.Nos. 3and variants,19and variant, and23), and its use here may have been influenced by the beginning of the next tale.

Other differences may be noted briefly: (1) The compact made between the hero and the Devil does not include the characteristic prohibitions in the European versions; namely, that the hero is not to comb his hair, wash himself, trim his beard, etc., during his seven years of wandering. The Devil seems to rely merely on his bear-suit, which he makes the hero wear, to produce insurmountable difficulties. It may be that the prohibitions mentioned above were omitted because they involved conditions wholly foreign to Filipino conception. The natives take great pride in their hair, and always dress it carefully, are scrupulously clean personally, and are beardless! I can cite no parallel in folk-tales for the condition substituted; i.e., if the wanderer does good with his money, the Devil will have no power over him at the end of the seven years, while, if he spends it extravagantly and foolishly, he goes to hell. Perhaps none need be sought outside of actual experience. (2) The hero is supplied with money from a large bag which the Devil gives him, not from the inexhaustible pockets of a magic green coat, as in Grimm. The mention of the hero’ssoldier-suit, by the way, since nothing has been said earlier in the story of his having followed the profession of arms, is likely a reminiscence of the characteristic opening of the European versions, where it is a poorsoldierwho has the experience with the Devil. (3) The person ransomed by the hero in our story is an old woman instead of an old man. (4) The two disappointed sisters do not kill themselves, and hence the Devil does not reappear at the end of the story,—as he does in Grimm,—and say, “I have now got two souls in the place of thy one!”

The broken-ring recognition on the return home is a feature which I believe occurs in no other Filipino folk-tale, but is met with not infrequently in European saga and story (cf. Köhler-Bolte, 117, 584; see also Bolte-Polívka, 1 : 234; 2 : 348).

1Novena, a devotion consisting of prayers held for nine consecutive days and asking for some special favor.2Novenario, the act of performing or holding anovena.3There seems to be an inconsistency here,—Clara was the mother of Idó,—or, if not an inconsistency (there might be two Claras), at least a useless and confusing repetition of names.

1Novena, a devotion consisting of prayers held for nine consecutive days and asking for some special favor.

2Novenario, the act of performing or holding anovena.

3There seems to be an inconsistency here,—Clara was the mother of Idó,—or, if not an inconsistency (there might be two Claras), at least a useless and confusing repetition of names.

Pedro and Satan.Narrated by Pedro D. L. Sorreta, a Bicol from Catanduanes, who heard the story when he was a little boy.Once upon a time there lived a very rich man, whose wife had never given birth to a child. The couple had already made several pilgrimages, and had spent great sums of money for religious services, in the hope that God might give them a child, even though a sickly one, to inherit their money; but all their efforts were in vain. Disappointed, the man resolved to rely upon Satan for the performance of his wish.One dark night, when he was thinking hard about the matter, he heard a voice say, “Your wish will be quickly fulfilled if you but ask me for it.” The rich man was so filled with joy, that he turned towards the voice and knelt before the invisible speaker: “I will give you my life, and even my wife’s, in return for a son who will be the heir to my riches,” said the man. Meanwhile he perceived in front of him a figure which in an instant assumed the form of Satan. At first he was frightened; but his fear was only momentary, and he was eager to hurry up the agreement with Satan, so that he might receive the child. They therefore made a golden document which provided that the first child of the heir was to be given to the Devil at the age of ten, and that the man and his wife were no longer God’s subjects, but Satan’s.After the agreement had been made, the Devil promised the rich man that his wife would give birth to the longed-for son early the next morning. Then he disappeared. The child was born at the appointed time, and grew wonderfully fast, for in five days he was a full-grown youth. But the parents could not but blame themselves for their impious act. They intended to keep the secret from their son; but they could not do so, for the boy was always asking about the nature of his existence. So when Pedro—they called him by this name—knew of his pitiful lot, he decided not to marry until he had succeeded in wresting the golden document from the hands of Satan.Now, Pedro knew that devils do not like crosses, and cannot even stay where they have to look at them. So one day he asked his mother to make for him two gowns, one having little crosses hanging from it. When these had been finished, Pedro asked his father to give him over to Satan, so that he might work with the demons in hell. No sooner had he expressedhis desire to his father than the Devil appeared and took the young man off to his kingdom. There Pedro was assigned the task of directing the demons in hauling the logs that were to be used for fuel.Pedro ordered the demons to tie a strong piece of rope to one end of a log, and ordered them to pull it while he stood on the other end. Every time he counted “One, two, three!” he would hold up his outer gown; and the demons, seeing the crosses, would run away in confusion. As the devils could not endure Pedro’s conduct, they ran to their master Satan, and asked him to send the young man away, for he could not do any work. The demons could not say anything about Pedro’s trick, however, for they did not dare even speak the word “cross.” Satan then summoned Pedro to his office, and had him work there.Now, the young man had put a strong piece of rope under his gown. One day, when Satan was taking his siesta in a rocking-chair, Pedro tied him fast to the chair. Then he removed his outer gown and woke Satan. The Devil with closed eyes struggled hard to escape; but he could not get loose. So he humbly requested Pedro to go away and leave him alone; but Pedro would neither leave him nor let him go. He demanded the document, but Satan would not give it up. So Pedro kept on frightening the Devil until at last Satan said that he would give up the document if Pedro would release him. Pedro put on his outer robe, and the Devil called his secretary and told him to give the golden document to the young man. Pedro threw the bond into the fire; and when he saw that it was completely melted, he took off his outer robe again, and turned Satan loose. The Devil ran away exceedingly terrified.Then Pedro went home, where his parents received him with great joy. Thus by his cleverness he saved his parents and his future child from a terrible fate.Notes.Like the preceding, this story is doubtless also an importation into the Islands from Europe. It belongs to the general family of tales known as the “Promised Child,” but the narrative takes a turn which leads into a special group of this family. The members of this group are usually not long; and the stories, on the whole, are simple. A parent promises, wittingly or unwittingly, his child to the Devil in return for some service, and gives his signature to the bond. Thechild grows up, and, noticing the dejection of his parents, forces from them the secret of the pact. After equipping himself for the struggle, he sets out for hell to recover the contract. In hell he frightens or annoys the devils in various ways, and becomes such a nuisance that finally the arch-fiend is glad to get rid of him by surrendering the bond.In a Lorraine story (Cosquin, No. LXIV, “Saint Etienne”) “a woman in confinement is visited by a grand gentleman, who persuades her to sell her child to him for a large sum of money. He is to come for the child in six or seven years. One day after a visit of the stranger, the mother begins to suspect him of being the Devil. Her son notices her sadness, and learns the secret that is troubling her. ‘I’m not afraid of the Devil,’ he says boldly, and tells her to provide him with a sheep-skin filled with holy water. Thus equipped, he sets off with the stranger when the time comes, and, reaching hell, so frightens the devils by sprinkling them with the holy water, that they are glad to leave him in peace to return to his mother.” In this story nothing is said of a contract; but in a variant mentioned by Cosquin (2 : 232) a poor man signs in blood a bond according to which he agrees to give up his son at the age of twenty to the rich stranger (Devil in disguise) who has consented to be godfather to the infant. The demon is finally put to flight with the aid of an image of the cross and with the liberal use of holy water.In a Wallachian story (Schott, No. 15) we find a close parallel of incident to our story: the hero, acting on the advice of his school-master, makes some ecclesiastical garments decorated with crosses, and, dressed in these, he goes to hell and knocks on the door. The demons, frightened by the sight, want to drive him away; but he will not go until they surrender the parchment signed by his father. This story differs from ours in the opening, however; for the father is a poor fisherman, and promises unwittingly “that which he loves most at home” in exchange for great riches. At the end of the story, too, is added an episode of the conversion by the hero of a band of robbers. With the beginning of this Wallachian story compare the Italian “Lionbruno” (Crane, No. XXXVI). In a Lithuanian tale (Chodzko, Contes des paysans et des pâtres slaves [Paris 1864], p. 107), the hero, before setting out to meet the Devil, arms himself with holy water and a piece of chalk blessed by the priest. With the chalk he draws a magic circle about him, from which he throws water on the demons until they give up the contract. For other variants, see Cosquin, No. LXXV and notes.Our story, while somewhat crude in style, is well motivated throughout, and has one amusing episode for which I know no parallel, the tying of Satan in his rocking-chair while he is taking his siesta, and then frightening him into compliance, when he wakes, by displaying,before him the cross-embroidered gown. The first task the hero is put to when he enters hell—directing the hauling of logs for fuel—seems more appropriate than that of draining two ponds, which the hero is obliged to perform in Cosquin’s “La Baguette Merveilleuse,” No. LXXV.The testimony of the narrator that he heard the story from one of his playmates when he was a little boy, throws an interesting ray of light on the way in which popular stories circulate in the Philippines.

Pedro and Satan.Narrated by Pedro D. L. Sorreta, a Bicol from Catanduanes, who heard the story when he was a little boy.Once upon a time there lived a very rich man, whose wife had never given birth to a child. The couple had already made several pilgrimages, and had spent great sums of money for religious services, in the hope that God might give them a child, even though a sickly one, to inherit their money; but all their efforts were in vain. Disappointed, the man resolved to rely upon Satan for the performance of his wish.One dark night, when he was thinking hard about the matter, he heard a voice say, “Your wish will be quickly fulfilled if you but ask me for it.” The rich man was so filled with joy, that he turned towards the voice and knelt before the invisible speaker: “I will give you my life, and even my wife’s, in return for a son who will be the heir to my riches,” said the man. Meanwhile he perceived in front of him a figure which in an instant assumed the form of Satan. At first he was frightened; but his fear was only momentary, and he was eager to hurry up the agreement with Satan, so that he might receive the child. They therefore made a golden document which provided that the first child of the heir was to be given to the Devil at the age of ten, and that the man and his wife were no longer God’s subjects, but Satan’s.After the agreement had been made, the Devil promised the rich man that his wife would give birth to the longed-for son early the next morning. Then he disappeared. The child was born at the appointed time, and grew wonderfully fast, for in five days he was a full-grown youth. But the parents could not but blame themselves for their impious act. They intended to keep the secret from their son; but they could not do so, for the boy was always asking about the nature of his existence. So when Pedro—they called him by this name—knew of his pitiful lot, he decided not to marry until he had succeeded in wresting the golden document from the hands of Satan.Now, Pedro knew that devils do not like crosses, and cannot even stay where they have to look at them. So one day he asked his mother to make for him two gowns, one having little crosses hanging from it. When these had been finished, Pedro asked his father to give him over to Satan, so that he might work with the demons in hell. No sooner had he expressedhis desire to his father than the Devil appeared and took the young man off to his kingdom. There Pedro was assigned the task of directing the demons in hauling the logs that were to be used for fuel.Pedro ordered the demons to tie a strong piece of rope to one end of a log, and ordered them to pull it while he stood on the other end. Every time he counted “One, two, three!” he would hold up his outer gown; and the demons, seeing the crosses, would run away in confusion. As the devils could not endure Pedro’s conduct, they ran to their master Satan, and asked him to send the young man away, for he could not do any work. The demons could not say anything about Pedro’s trick, however, for they did not dare even speak the word “cross.” Satan then summoned Pedro to his office, and had him work there.Now, the young man had put a strong piece of rope under his gown. One day, when Satan was taking his siesta in a rocking-chair, Pedro tied him fast to the chair. Then he removed his outer gown and woke Satan. The Devil with closed eyes struggled hard to escape; but he could not get loose. So he humbly requested Pedro to go away and leave him alone; but Pedro would neither leave him nor let him go. He demanded the document, but Satan would not give it up. So Pedro kept on frightening the Devil until at last Satan said that he would give up the document if Pedro would release him. Pedro put on his outer robe, and the Devil called his secretary and told him to give the golden document to the young man. Pedro threw the bond into the fire; and when he saw that it was completely melted, he took off his outer robe again, and turned Satan loose. The Devil ran away exceedingly terrified.Then Pedro went home, where his parents received him with great joy. Thus by his cleverness he saved his parents and his future child from a terrible fate.

Narrated by Pedro D. L. Sorreta, a Bicol from Catanduanes, who heard the story when he was a little boy.

Once upon a time there lived a very rich man, whose wife had never given birth to a child. The couple had already made several pilgrimages, and had spent great sums of money for religious services, in the hope that God might give them a child, even though a sickly one, to inherit their money; but all their efforts were in vain. Disappointed, the man resolved to rely upon Satan for the performance of his wish.

One dark night, when he was thinking hard about the matter, he heard a voice say, “Your wish will be quickly fulfilled if you but ask me for it.” The rich man was so filled with joy, that he turned towards the voice and knelt before the invisible speaker: “I will give you my life, and even my wife’s, in return for a son who will be the heir to my riches,” said the man. Meanwhile he perceived in front of him a figure which in an instant assumed the form of Satan. At first he was frightened; but his fear was only momentary, and he was eager to hurry up the agreement with Satan, so that he might receive the child. They therefore made a golden document which provided that the first child of the heir was to be given to the Devil at the age of ten, and that the man and his wife were no longer God’s subjects, but Satan’s.

After the agreement had been made, the Devil promised the rich man that his wife would give birth to the longed-for son early the next morning. Then he disappeared. The child was born at the appointed time, and grew wonderfully fast, for in five days he was a full-grown youth. But the parents could not but blame themselves for their impious act. They intended to keep the secret from their son; but they could not do so, for the boy was always asking about the nature of his existence. So when Pedro—they called him by this name—knew of his pitiful lot, he decided not to marry until he had succeeded in wresting the golden document from the hands of Satan.

Now, Pedro knew that devils do not like crosses, and cannot even stay where they have to look at them. So one day he asked his mother to make for him two gowns, one having little crosses hanging from it. When these had been finished, Pedro asked his father to give him over to Satan, so that he might work with the demons in hell. No sooner had he expressedhis desire to his father than the Devil appeared and took the young man off to his kingdom. There Pedro was assigned the task of directing the demons in hauling the logs that were to be used for fuel.

Pedro ordered the demons to tie a strong piece of rope to one end of a log, and ordered them to pull it while he stood on the other end. Every time he counted “One, two, three!” he would hold up his outer gown; and the demons, seeing the crosses, would run away in confusion. As the devils could not endure Pedro’s conduct, they ran to their master Satan, and asked him to send the young man away, for he could not do any work. The demons could not say anything about Pedro’s trick, however, for they did not dare even speak the word “cross.” Satan then summoned Pedro to his office, and had him work there.

Now, the young man had put a strong piece of rope under his gown. One day, when Satan was taking his siesta in a rocking-chair, Pedro tied him fast to the chair. Then he removed his outer gown and woke Satan. The Devil with closed eyes struggled hard to escape; but he could not get loose. So he humbly requested Pedro to go away and leave him alone; but Pedro would neither leave him nor let him go. He demanded the document, but Satan would not give it up. So Pedro kept on frightening the Devil until at last Satan said that he would give up the document if Pedro would release him. Pedro put on his outer robe, and the Devil called his secretary and told him to give the golden document to the young man. Pedro threw the bond into the fire; and when he saw that it was completely melted, he took off his outer robe again, and turned Satan loose. The Devil ran away exceedingly terrified.

Then Pedro went home, where his parents received him with great joy. Thus by his cleverness he saved his parents and his future child from a terrible fate.

Notes.Like the preceding, this story is doubtless also an importation into the Islands from Europe. It belongs to the general family of tales known as the “Promised Child,” but the narrative takes a turn which leads into a special group of this family. The members of this group are usually not long; and the stories, on the whole, are simple. A parent promises, wittingly or unwittingly, his child to the Devil in return for some service, and gives his signature to the bond. Thechild grows up, and, noticing the dejection of his parents, forces from them the secret of the pact. After equipping himself for the struggle, he sets out for hell to recover the contract. In hell he frightens or annoys the devils in various ways, and becomes such a nuisance that finally the arch-fiend is glad to get rid of him by surrendering the bond.In a Lorraine story (Cosquin, No. LXIV, “Saint Etienne”) “a woman in confinement is visited by a grand gentleman, who persuades her to sell her child to him for a large sum of money. He is to come for the child in six or seven years. One day after a visit of the stranger, the mother begins to suspect him of being the Devil. Her son notices her sadness, and learns the secret that is troubling her. ‘I’m not afraid of the Devil,’ he says boldly, and tells her to provide him with a sheep-skin filled with holy water. Thus equipped, he sets off with the stranger when the time comes, and, reaching hell, so frightens the devils by sprinkling them with the holy water, that they are glad to leave him in peace to return to his mother.” In this story nothing is said of a contract; but in a variant mentioned by Cosquin (2 : 232) a poor man signs in blood a bond according to which he agrees to give up his son at the age of twenty to the rich stranger (Devil in disguise) who has consented to be godfather to the infant. The demon is finally put to flight with the aid of an image of the cross and with the liberal use of holy water.In a Wallachian story (Schott, No. 15) we find a close parallel of incident to our story: the hero, acting on the advice of his school-master, makes some ecclesiastical garments decorated with crosses, and, dressed in these, he goes to hell and knocks on the door. The demons, frightened by the sight, want to drive him away; but he will not go until they surrender the parchment signed by his father. This story differs from ours in the opening, however; for the father is a poor fisherman, and promises unwittingly “that which he loves most at home” in exchange for great riches. At the end of the story, too, is added an episode of the conversion by the hero of a band of robbers. With the beginning of this Wallachian story compare the Italian “Lionbruno” (Crane, No. XXXVI). In a Lithuanian tale (Chodzko, Contes des paysans et des pâtres slaves [Paris 1864], p. 107), the hero, before setting out to meet the Devil, arms himself with holy water and a piece of chalk blessed by the priest. With the chalk he draws a magic circle about him, from which he throws water on the demons until they give up the contract. For other variants, see Cosquin, No. LXXV and notes.Our story, while somewhat crude in style, is well motivated throughout, and has one amusing episode for which I know no parallel, the tying of Satan in his rocking-chair while he is taking his siesta, and then frightening him into compliance, when he wakes, by displaying,before him the cross-embroidered gown. The first task the hero is put to when he enters hell—directing the hauling of logs for fuel—seems more appropriate than that of draining two ponds, which the hero is obliged to perform in Cosquin’s “La Baguette Merveilleuse,” No. LXXV.The testimony of the narrator that he heard the story from one of his playmates when he was a little boy, throws an interesting ray of light on the way in which popular stories circulate in the Philippines.

Like the preceding, this story is doubtless also an importation into the Islands from Europe. It belongs to the general family of tales known as the “Promised Child,” but the narrative takes a turn which leads into a special group of this family. The members of this group are usually not long; and the stories, on the whole, are simple. A parent promises, wittingly or unwittingly, his child to the Devil in return for some service, and gives his signature to the bond. Thechild grows up, and, noticing the dejection of his parents, forces from them the secret of the pact. After equipping himself for the struggle, he sets out for hell to recover the contract. In hell he frightens or annoys the devils in various ways, and becomes such a nuisance that finally the arch-fiend is glad to get rid of him by surrendering the bond.

In a Lorraine story (Cosquin, No. LXIV, “Saint Etienne”) “a woman in confinement is visited by a grand gentleman, who persuades her to sell her child to him for a large sum of money. He is to come for the child in six or seven years. One day after a visit of the stranger, the mother begins to suspect him of being the Devil. Her son notices her sadness, and learns the secret that is troubling her. ‘I’m not afraid of the Devil,’ he says boldly, and tells her to provide him with a sheep-skin filled with holy water. Thus equipped, he sets off with the stranger when the time comes, and, reaching hell, so frightens the devils by sprinkling them with the holy water, that they are glad to leave him in peace to return to his mother.” In this story nothing is said of a contract; but in a variant mentioned by Cosquin (2 : 232) a poor man signs in blood a bond according to which he agrees to give up his son at the age of twenty to the rich stranger (Devil in disguise) who has consented to be godfather to the infant. The demon is finally put to flight with the aid of an image of the cross and with the liberal use of holy water.

In a Wallachian story (Schott, No. 15) we find a close parallel of incident to our story: the hero, acting on the advice of his school-master, makes some ecclesiastical garments decorated with crosses, and, dressed in these, he goes to hell and knocks on the door. The demons, frightened by the sight, want to drive him away; but he will not go until they surrender the parchment signed by his father. This story differs from ours in the opening, however; for the father is a poor fisherman, and promises unwittingly “that which he loves most at home” in exchange for great riches. At the end of the story, too, is added an episode of the conversion by the hero of a band of robbers. With the beginning of this Wallachian story compare the Italian “Lionbruno” (Crane, No. XXXVI). In a Lithuanian tale (Chodzko, Contes des paysans et des pâtres slaves [Paris 1864], p. 107), the hero, before setting out to meet the Devil, arms himself with holy water and a piece of chalk blessed by the priest. With the chalk he draws a magic circle about him, from which he throws water on the demons until they give up the contract. For other variants, see Cosquin, No. LXXV and notes.

Our story, while somewhat crude in style, is well motivated throughout, and has one amusing episode for which I know no parallel, the tying of Satan in his rocking-chair while he is taking his siesta, and then frightening him into compliance, when he wakes, by displaying,before him the cross-embroidered gown. The first task the hero is put to when he enters hell—directing the hauling of logs for fuel—seems more appropriate than that of draining two ponds, which the hero is obliged to perform in Cosquin’s “La Baguette Merveilleuse,” No. LXXV.

The testimony of the narrator that he heard the story from one of his playmates when he was a little boy, throws an interesting ray of light on the way in which popular stories circulate in the Philippines.

The Devil and the Guachinango.Narrated by José Laki of Guagua, Pampanga. He got the story from his uncle, who heard it from an old Pampango story-teller.There once lived in a suburb of a town a very religious old widow who had a beautiful daughter, Piriang by name. Young men from different parts of the town came to court Piriang, and the mother always preferred the rich to the poor. Whenever Piriang’s friends told her that the man whom she rejected would have been a good match for her, she always answered that she would rather have a devil for a husband than such a man.One day a devil heard Piriang giving this answer to one of her friends. Thus encouraged, he disguised himself as a young man of noble blood, and went to Piriang’s house to offer her his love. The mother and daughter received this stranger with great civility, for he appeared to them to be the son of a nobleman. In the richness of his dress he was unexcelled by his rivals. After he had been going to Piriang’s house for a few weeks, the old widow told him one day to come prepared to be married on the following Tuesday. On the Sunday before the wedding-day he had a long conversation with Piriang. He calmly asked her to take off the cross that she had about her neck, for it made her look ugly, he said. She refused to do so, however, because she had worn this cross ever since she was a child. After he had departed, Piriang told her mother what he had asked her to do.The next day the mother went to the church. She told the priest that Piriang’s bridegroom had ordered her to take off her cross from her neck. The priest said that that man was a devil; for no man, as a son of God, would say that a cross made the one who wore it look ugly. The priest gave the mother a small image of the Virgin Mary. He instructed her to show the image to the bridegroom. If when he beheld it he turned his back on her as she was holding it, she was to tie him around theneck with hercintas.1Then she was to put him in a large jar, and bury him at least twenty-one feet under the ground.The mother went home very much distressed because she had allowed her daughter to become engaged to a devil. She told Piriang not to talk with her bridegroom, because she feared that he was a devil. That night he came with his friend dressed like him. The mother was very gracious to them. They talked about the wedding. When the old woman held up the image of the Virgin Mary, the two men turned their backs on her. She immediately wound hercintasaround the neck of her daughter’s bridegroom, and Piriang came in with the dried tail of a sting-ray in her right hand. She whipped him with this as hard as she could.2Then the two together forced him to get into a large jar. After warning him not to come back to earth again, the old woman covered the jar with a piece of cloth wet with holy water. The other devil suddenly disappeared.The next morning a guachinango3happened to pass by the house of the old woman. She called him in, showed him the jar, and told him to bury it at least twenty-one feet deep. When he asked how much she would pay him, she promised to give him ten pesos. He agreed: so, putting the jar on his right shoulder, he set out. When he reached a quiet place, he heard whispers behind him. He stopped and looked around, but could see nothing. Then he put the jar on the ground to rest a few minutes. Now he discovered that the whispers were coming from inside the jar. He was very much surprised.“What are you?” asked the guachinango. “Are you a man, or a devil?”“I am a devil, my friend,” answered the voice. “The old woman forced me to go into this jar. Be kind to me, my friend, and liberate me!”“I shall obey the old woman in order to get my pay,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you even deeper than twenty-one feet.”“If you will bury me just three feet deep,” said the devil, “I will give you a large sum of money.”“I will bury you just one and a half feet deep, if you can give me much money,” said the guachinango.“I will give you five hundred pesos,” said the devil. “Dig the ground near the stump of that mabolo-tree. There you will find the money in a dirty black purse.”After the guachinango had buried the devil, he went to the mabolo-tree and took the money. Then he went to the nearest village and played casino. As soon as he lost all his money, he returned to the devil. “I have lost all the money you gave me,” he said. “I will now bury you twenty-one feet deep.”“No, do not bury me so deep as that, my friend!” said the devil calmly. “I can give you twice as much money as I gave you before. You will find it in the same place that you found the other.”The guachinango took the money and went to the village again to gamble. Again he lost. He returned to the devil, and asked him angrily why he always lost the money he gave him. “I don’t know,” answered the devil. “I have given you fifteen hundred pesos, but you haven’t even a cent now. You ought to set me free at once.”“Aha! I won’t let you go,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you thirty-nine feet now.”“I have a plan in mind,” said the devil, “which will benefit you extremely; but before I explain my plan, let me ask you if you would like to marry the daughter of the king.”“I have a great desire to be king some day,” said the guachinango; “but how can you make me the husband of a princess, when you are only a devil, and I am nothing but a poor guachinango?”“As soon as you set me free,” said the devil, “I will enter the mouth of the princess and go into her brains. Then I will give her a very painful headache which no physician can cure. The king will make an announcement saying that he who can cure his daughter of her disease shall marry her. When you hear this announcement, go to the palace at once, and offer your services to the king. As soon as you reach the princess, tell me that you have come, and I will leave her immediately. The princess will then recover her former health, and you will be married to her. Do not fail to go to the palace, for I am determined to reward you for your kindness to me.”After the guachinango had liberated the devil, he immediately set out for the city. He had not been there three days when he met a group of soldiers crying that “he who could curethe princess should have her to wife.” The guachinango stopped the soldiers, and said that he could cure the princess. They took him before the king, where a written agreement was made. If he could not cure the princess in three days, he should lose his life; but if he cured her by the end of the third day, he should marry her. The guachinango was then conducted to the room of the princess. When he approached her, he said to the devil that he had come. “You must leave the princess now; for, if you don’t, I shall be executed.” But the devil refused to leave, because he wanted to get revenge. He further told the guachinango that he wanted him to die, for then his soul would go to hell.The guachinango became more and more hopeless. On the morning of the third day he thought of a good plan to get rid of his enemy. He asked the king to order all the bells of the neighboring churches to be tolled, while every one in the palace was to cry out loud, “Here she comes!” While all this noise was going on, the guachinango approached the princess, and told the devil that the old woman was coming with hercintas. When the devil heard this, he was terribly frightened, and left the princess and disappeared. The next day the guachinango was married to the princess.Notes.From the testimony of the narrator, this capital story appears to have been known in Pampanga for some time. The incident of the demon entering the body of the princess, and then leaving at the request of one who has befriended him, occurs in a Tagalog story also, which I will give for the purpose of comparison. While the story is more of a fairy-tale than aMärchenproper, it appears to be a variant of ourNo. 24. Significant differences between the two will be noted, however. The Tagalog story was collected and written down for me by Manuel Reyes, a native of Manila. It runs as follows:Mabait and the Duende.Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”“I am not evil, I am a duende.”“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”“No, my friend gives it to me.”“Who is your friend?”“A duende.”Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.“Give me the money first.”After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”“What! Will the princess be my wife?”“Yes.”“How can you make her love me?”“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”“I am the duende.”“Why are you there?”“Because I want to be here.”“Go away!”“No, I won’t.”“Don’t you know me?”“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”“I am the duende, your friend.”“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.Before attempting to decide anything concerning the provenience of these two tales, we shall first examine versions of the story from other parts of the world. The nearest European analogue that I am familiar with is an Andalusian story printed by Caballero in 1866 (Ingram, 107, “The Demon’s Mother-in-Law”). An outline of the chief elements of this tale follows:—Mother Holofernes, while very neat and industrious, was a terrible termagant and shrew. Her daughter Panfila, on the contrary, was so lazy and thoughtless, that once, when the old woman burnt herself badly because herdaughter was listening to some lads singing outside, instead of helping her mother with the boiling lye for washing, the enraged Mother Holofernes shouted to her offspring, “Heaven grant that you may marry the Evil One himself!” Not long afterward a rich little man presented himself as a suitor for Panfila’s hand. He was accepted by the mother, and preparations for the marriage went forward. The old woman, however, began to dislike the suitor, and, recalling her curse, suspected that he was none other than the Devil himself. Accordingly, on the night of the wedding, she bade Panfila lock all the windows and doors of the room, and then beat her husband with a branch of consecrated olive. So done. The husband tried to escape from his wife by slipping through the key-hole; but his mother-in-law anticipated this move. She caught him in a glass bottle, which she immediately sealed hermetically. Then the old lady climbed to the summit of a mountain, and there deposited the bottle in an out-of-the-way place. Ten years the imp remained there a prisoner, suffering cold, heat, hunger, thirst. One day a soldier, returning to his native town on leave, took a short cut over the mountain, and spied the bottle. When he picked it up, the imp begged to be released, and told him of all he had suffered; but the soldier made a number of conditions,—his release from the army, a four-dollar daily pension, etc.,—and finally the imp promised to enter the body of the daughter of the King of Naples. The soldier was to present himself at court as a physician, and demand any reward he wished to, in return for a cure. So done. The king accepted the services of the soldier, but stipulated that if in three days he had not cured the princess, he should be hanged. The soldier accepted the conditions; but the demon, seeing that he had his arrogant enemy’s life in his hands, and bent on revenge, refused to leave the body of the princess. On the last day, however, the soldier ordered all the bells rung. On the demon’s asking what all the noise was about, the soldier said, “I have ordered your mother-in-law summoned, and she has just arrived.” In great terror the Devil at once quitted the princess, and the soldier was left “in victorious possession of the field.”It will be noticed that the last episode is almost identical with the ending of our story “The Devil and the Guachinango,” while there is a considerable amount of divergence between the two elsewhere.For versions collected before 1860 I am indebted to Benfey’s treatment of this cycle. It is found in his “Pantschatantra,” 1 : 519 ff. I take the liberty of summarizing it in this place, first, because it is the only exhaustive handling of the story I know of; and, second, because Benfey’s brilliant work, while constantly referred to and quoted, has long been out of print, and has never been accessible in English.The occasion for Benfey’s dissertation on this particular tale is the relationship he sees between it and the large family of stories turning on the motive of a marvellous cure, a representative of which is “Pantschatantra,” 5 : 12, “The Miraculous Cure of a Blind Man, a Humpback, and a Three-breasted Princess.”7While the story weare discussing cannot be considered in any sense an offshoot of the Pantschatantra tale, it can scarcely be denied, says Benfey, that between the two there is a definite internal relationship, which is further manifested by the fact that in its later development the latter is actually joined to the former (p. 519).The earliest form of our story is found in the“Cukasaptati,”where it is told as the story for the 45th and 46th nights. In this version,—A Brahman, driven away from home by the malice of his wife, is befriended by a demon who had formerly lived in the Brahman’s house, but who had also fled in fear from her shrewish tongue. The demon enters the body of a princess; and the Brahman, appearing as a conjurer, forces him to leave, in accordance with their pact, and wins half a kingdom and the hand of the princess. The demon now goes to another city where he possesses the queen, an aunt of the Brahman’s new father-in-law. The Brahman, whose reputation as an enchanter has become great, is summoned to cure this queen. When he arrives, the demon threatens and insults him, refusing to leave the queen because they are now quits. The Brahman, however, whispers in the woman’s ear, “My wife is coming here close on my heels, I have come only to warn you;” whereupon the demon, terror-stricken, at once leaves the queen. The Brahman is highly honored.Benfey conjectures that this story must have passed over into the Persian redaction of the “Cukasaptati” (i.e., the “Tūtī-nāmeh”), but what changes it underwent in the transmission cannot yet be determined. The earliest European form of the tale is that found in the Turkish “Forty Vezirs” (trans. by Behrnauer, p. 277).Here a young wood-cutter saves money to buy a rope; but his shrewish wife, thinking that he is going to spend it on a sweetheart, insists on accompanying him to his work in the mountains, so that she can keep him under her eye. In the mountains the husband decides to abandon his wife in a well. He tells her to hold a rope while he descends to fetch a treasure which he pretends is concealed at the bottom; but she is so avaricious, that she insists on being let down first. Then he drops the rope, and returns home free. A few days later, conscience-smitten, he goes back to rescue his wife, and, lowering another rope, he calls to her that he will draw her up; but he hauls a demon to the surface instead. The demon thanks the wood-cutter for rescuing him from a malicious woman “who some days ago descended, and has made my life unbearable ever since.” As in the Cukasaptati story, the demon enters a princess and makes her insane, and the wood-cutter cures her and marries her. Then the demon enters another princess. The wood-cutter is summoned; he has to resort to the well-known trick to force the imp to leave this second maiden.In the Persian form of this story, in the “1001 Days” (Prenzlau ed.), 11 : 247, is added the death-penalty in case the hero fails to perform the second cure, which consists in persuading the spirit, in the form of a snake, to unwind itself from the body of the vezir’s daughter. The hero had already cured the sultan’s daughter and married her.A Serbian story (Wuk, No. 37) is closer to the “Forty Vezirs” version than is the “1001 Days.” The only essential difference is that the opening of the Serbian tale is the well-knownfabliauof the “Meadow that was mowed.”Here the wife falls into a pit. When the husband attempts to draw her out again, a devil appears. The devil is thankful; and, to reward the man, it enters the body of the emperor’s daughter. Here the hero appears, not as an enchanter, but as a physician.Practically identical is the story of “The Bad Wife and the Devil,” in Vogl, “Slowenische Volksmärchen” (Wien, 1837).In a Finnish version of the story (Benfey, 524–525) the hero, as in the preceding, assumes the rôle of a physician.The husband pushes his bad wife into an abyss. When he attempts to draw her out again, another woman appears. She is the Plague.8Out of gratitude for her liberation from that other wicked woman, she proposes to him that they travel together through the world: she, the pest, will make people ill; he, as physician, will cure them. So done. As a result the man becomes rich. But at last he grows weary of his excessive work: so he procures a snappish dog, and puts it in a sack. The next time he is called to the side of a person made sick by the pest, he says to her, “Enter human beings no more: if you do, I will liberate from this sack the woman that tormented you in the abyss,” at the same time irritating the dog so that it growls. The Plague, full of terror, begs him for God’s sake not to set the woman free, and promises to reform.It will be seen that in its method of the “sickness and the cure,” this story is related to Grimm, No. 44, “Godfather Death,” where Death takes the place of the Plague, and where, instead of gratitude, the motive is the godfather relationship of Death toward the hero.This folk-tale, says Benfey (p. 525), was early put into literary form in Europe. Among others, he cites Machiavelli’s excellent version in his story of “Belfagor” (early sixteenth century):—Belfagor, a devil, is sent to earth by his master to live as a married man for ten years, to see whether certain accusations made against women by souls in hell are true or slanderous. Belfagor marries in Florence; but his imperious wife causes him so much bad fortune, that he is compelled to flee from his creditors. A peasant conceals him, and out of gratitude Belfagor tells his rescuer his story, and promises to make him rich by possessing women and allowing himself to be driven out only by the peasant himself. So done. The peasant wins great renown; and at last Belfagor says that his obligations have been fulfilled, and that the peasant must look out for himself if they meet again. The devil now enters the daughter of Ludwig II, King of France. The peasant is summoned to cure her, but isafraid, and refuses. At last he is compelled to go, like the physician, against his will (see Benfey, 515 ff.). Belfagor rages when he sees the peasant, and threatens him vehemently. At last the peasant employs the usual trick: “Your wife is coming!” and the devil flees in consternation, choosing rather to rush back to hell than into the arms of his wife.Benfey considers a Bohemian story in Wenzig’s collection (West-slawische Märchen, Leipzig, 1857, p. 167) to be the best of all the popular versions belonging to this group, and he reproduces it in full (pp. 527–534). This long story we may pass over, since it contains no new features that are found in our story. In fact, it little resembles ours or any of the others, except in general in two or three episodes. Benfey concludes his discussion of this cycle by stating that there have been many other imitations of this tale, and he mentions some of these (p. 534). It may be added that further references will be found in Wilson’s note in his edition of Dunlop, 2 : 188–190.The question of the origin of the Pampango version of this story is not easy to answer definitely, for the reason that it presents details not found in any of the other variants. However, since nearly all the machinery of our story turns on the teachings of the Roman Church, and since thedenouementis practically identical with the ending of Caballero’s Andalusian story, I conclude that in its main outlines our version was derived from Spain. At the same time, I think it likely that the fairy-tale of “Mabait and the Duende” was already existent earlier in the Islands (though this, too, may have been imported), and that the motivation of the spirit’s desire to revenge himself on his tormentor for his avarice and greed was incorporated into theMärchenfrom the fairy-tale. My reasons for thinking the fairy-tale the older are: (1) its crudeness (the good and the bad hero are a very awkward device compared with the combination of qualities in the guachinango); (2) its local references and its native names; (3) its use of native superstitions and beliefs.1Cintas, a holy belt worn by women.2Seenote 1 onpagui(“sting-ray”), p. 43.3Guachinango, defined by the narrator as “vagabond.” The word is used in Cuba as a nickname for the natives of Mexico.4While the termduendeis Spanish, the other three spirits mentioned—tigbalang, iki, mananangal—are good old native demons.5Seefootnote 1, p. 217.6Same as the Cuban isabelina.7The episode of a mutual cure being effected by a blind man and a lame man, we have already met with in two of the versions of ourNo. 6.8It may be noted, in passing, that among certain of the Tagalogs the pestilence (cholera particularly) is personified as an old woman dressed in black, who goes about the town at night knocking for admittance. If any one pays attention to her summons, the result is fatal to him. This evil spirit is known assalut.

The Devil and the Guachinango.Narrated by José Laki of Guagua, Pampanga. He got the story from his uncle, who heard it from an old Pampango story-teller.There once lived in a suburb of a town a very religious old widow who had a beautiful daughter, Piriang by name. Young men from different parts of the town came to court Piriang, and the mother always preferred the rich to the poor. Whenever Piriang’s friends told her that the man whom she rejected would have been a good match for her, she always answered that she would rather have a devil for a husband than such a man.One day a devil heard Piriang giving this answer to one of her friends. Thus encouraged, he disguised himself as a young man of noble blood, and went to Piriang’s house to offer her his love. The mother and daughter received this stranger with great civility, for he appeared to them to be the son of a nobleman. In the richness of his dress he was unexcelled by his rivals. After he had been going to Piriang’s house for a few weeks, the old widow told him one day to come prepared to be married on the following Tuesday. On the Sunday before the wedding-day he had a long conversation with Piriang. He calmly asked her to take off the cross that she had about her neck, for it made her look ugly, he said. She refused to do so, however, because she had worn this cross ever since she was a child. After he had departed, Piriang told her mother what he had asked her to do.The next day the mother went to the church. She told the priest that Piriang’s bridegroom had ordered her to take off her cross from her neck. The priest said that that man was a devil; for no man, as a son of God, would say that a cross made the one who wore it look ugly. The priest gave the mother a small image of the Virgin Mary. He instructed her to show the image to the bridegroom. If when he beheld it he turned his back on her as she was holding it, she was to tie him around theneck with hercintas.1Then she was to put him in a large jar, and bury him at least twenty-one feet under the ground.The mother went home very much distressed because she had allowed her daughter to become engaged to a devil. She told Piriang not to talk with her bridegroom, because she feared that he was a devil. That night he came with his friend dressed like him. The mother was very gracious to them. They talked about the wedding. When the old woman held up the image of the Virgin Mary, the two men turned their backs on her. She immediately wound hercintasaround the neck of her daughter’s bridegroom, and Piriang came in with the dried tail of a sting-ray in her right hand. She whipped him with this as hard as she could.2Then the two together forced him to get into a large jar. After warning him not to come back to earth again, the old woman covered the jar with a piece of cloth wet with holy water. The other devil suddenly disappeared.The next morning a guachinango3happened to pass by the house of the old woman. She called him in, showed him the jar, and told him to bury it at least twenty-one feet deep. When he asked how much she would pay him, she promised to give him ten pesos. He agreed: so, putting the jar on his right shoulder, he set out. When he reached a quiet place, he heard whispers behind him. He stopped and looked around, but could see nothing. Then he put the jar on the ground to rest a few minutes. Now he discovered that the whispers were coming from inside the jar. He was very much surprised.“What are you?” asked the guachinango. “Are you a man, or a devil?”“I am a devil, my friend,” answered the voice. “The old woman forced me to go into this jar. Be kind to me, my friend, and liberate me!”“I shall obey the old woman in order to get my pay,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you even deeper than twenty-one feet.”“If you will bury me just three feet deep,” said the devil, “I will give you a large sum of money.”“I will bury you just one and a half feet deep, if you can give me much money,” said the guachinango.“I will give you five hundred pesos,” said the devil. “Dig the ground near the stump of that mabolo-tree. There you will find the money in a dirty black purse.”After the guachinango had buried the devil, he went to the mabolo-tree and took the money. Then he went to the nearest village and played casino. As soon as he lost all his money, he returned to the devil. “I have lost all the money you gave me,” he said. “I will now bury you twenty-one feet deep.”“No, do not bury me so deep as that, my friend!” said the devil calmly. “I can give you twice as much money as I gave you before. You will find it in the same place that you found the other.”The guachinango took the money and went to the village again to gamble. Again he lost. He returned to the devil, and asked him angrily why he always lost the money he gave him. “I don’t know,” answered the devil. “I have given you fifteen hundred pesos, but you haven’t even a cent now. You ought to set me free at once.”“Aha! I won’t let you go,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you thirty-nine feet now.”“I have a plan in mind,” said the devil, “which will benefit you extremely; but before I explain my plan, let me ask you if you would like to marry the daughter of the king.”“I have a great desire to be king some day,” said the guachinango; “but how can you make me the husband of a princess, when you are only a devil, and I am nothing but a poor guachinango?”“As soon as you set me free,” said the devil, “I will enter the mouth of the princess and go into her brains. Then I will give her a very painful headache which no physician can cure. The king will make an announcement saying that he who can cure his daughter of her disease shall marry her. When you hear this announcement, go to the palace at once, and offer your services to the king. As soon as you reach the princess, tell me that you have come, and I will leave her immediately. The princess will then recover her former health, and you will be married to her. Do not fail to go to the palace, for I am determined to reward you for your kindness to me.”After the guachinango had liberated the devil, he immediately set out for the city. He had not been there three days when he met a group of soldiers crying that “he who could curethe princess should have her to wife.” The guachinango stopped the soldiers, and said that he could cure the princess. They took him before the king, where a written agreement was made. If he could not cure the princess in three days, he should lose his life; but if he cured her by the end of the third day, he should marry her. The guachinango was then conducted to the room of the princess. When he approached her, he said to the devil that he had come. “You must leave the princess now; for, if you don’t, I shall be executed.” But the devil refused to leave, because he wanted to get revenge. He further told the guachinango that he wanted him to die, for then his soul would go to hell.The guachinango became more and more hopeless. On the morning of the third day he thought of a good plan to get rid of his enemy. He asked the king to order all the bells of the neighboring churches to be tolled, while every one in the palace was to cry out loud, “Here she comes!” While all this noise was going on, the guachinango approached the princess, and told the devil that the old woman was coming with hercintas. When the devil heard this, he was terribly frightened, and left the princess and disappeared. The next day the guachinango was married to the princess.

Narrated by José Laki of Guagua, Pampanga. He got the story from his uncle, who heard it from an old Pampango story-teller.

There once lived in a suburb of a town a very religious old widow who had a beautiful daughter, Piriang by name. Young men from different parts of the town came to court Piriang, and the mother always preferred the rich to the poor. Whenever Piriang’s friends told her that the man whom she rejected would have been a good match for her, she always answered that she would rather have a devil for a husband than such a man.

One day a devil heard Piriang giving this answer to one of her friends. Thus encouraged, he disguised himself as a young man of noble blood, and went to Piriang’s house to offer her his love. The mother and daughter received this stranger with great civility, for he appeared to them to be the son of a nobleman. In the richness of his dress he was unexcelled by his rivals. After he had been going to Piriang’s house for a few weeks, the old widow told him one day to come prepared to be married on the following Tuesday. On the Sunday before the wedding-day he had a long conversation with Piriang. He calmly asked her to take off the cross that she had about her neck, for it made her look ugly, he said. She refused to do so, however, because she had worn this cross ever since she was a child. After he had departed, Piriang told her mother what he had asked her to do.

The next day the mother went to the church. She told the priest that Piriang’s bridegroom had ordered her to take off her cross from her neck. The priest said that that man was a devil; for no man, as a son of God, would say that a cross made the one who wore it look ugly. The priest gave the mother a small image of the Virgin Mary. He instructed her to show the image to the bridegroom. If when he beheld it he turned his back on her as she was holding it, she was to tie him around theneck with hercintas.1Then she was to put him in a large jar, and bury him at least twenty-one feet under the ground.

The mother went home very much distressed because she had allowed her daughter to become engaged to a devil. She told Piriang not to talk with her bridegroom, because she feared that he was a devil. That night he came with his friend dressed like him. The mother was very gracious to them. They talked about the wedding. When the old woman held up the image of the Virgin Mary, the two men turned their backs on her. She immediately wound hercintasaround the neck of her daughter’s bridegroom, and Piriang came in with the dried tail of a sting-ray in her right hand. She whipped him with this as hard as she could.2Then the two together forced him to get into a large jar. After warning him not to come back to earth again, the old woman covered the jar with a piece of cloth wet with holy water. The other devil suddenly disappeared.

The next morning a guachinango3happened to pass by the house of the old woman. She called him in, showed him the jar, and told him to bury it at least twenty-one feet deep. When he asked how much she would pay him, she promised to give him ten pesos. He agreed: so, putting the jar on his right shoulder, he set out. When he reached a quiet place, he heard whispers behind him. He stopped and looked around, but could see nothing. Then he put the jar on the ground to rest a few minutes. Now he discovered that the whispers were coming from inside the jar. He was very much surprised.

“What are you?” asked the guachinango. “Are you a man, or a devil?”

“I am a devil, my friend,” answered the voice. “The old woman forced me to go into this jar. Be kind to me, my friend, and liberate me!”

“I shall obey the old woman in order to get my pay,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you even deeper than twenty-one feet.”

“If you will bury me just three feet deep,” said the devil, “I will give you a large sum of money.”

“I will bury you just one and a half feet deep, if you can give me much money,” said the guachinango.

“I will give you five hundred pesos,” said the devil. “Dig the ground near the stump of that mabolo-tree. There you will find the money in a dirty black purse.”

After the guachinango had buried the devil, he went to the mabolo-tree and took the money. Then he went to the nearest village and played casino. As soon as he lost all his money, he returned to the devil. “I have lost all the money you gave me,” he said. “I will now bury you twenty-one feet deep.”

“No, do not bury me so deep as that, my friend!” said the devil calmly. “I can give you twice as much money as I gave you before. You will find it in the same place that you found the other.”

The guachinango took the money and went to the village again to gamble. Again he lost. He returned to the devil, and asked him angrily why he always lost the money he gave him. “I don’t know,” answered the devil. “I have given you fifteen hundred pesos, but you haven’t even a cent now. You ought to set me free at once.”

“Aha! I won’t let you go,” said the guachinango. “I will bury you thirty-nine feet now.”

“I have a plan in mind,” said the devil, “which will benefit you extremely; but before I explain my plan, let me ask you if you would like to marry the daughter of the king.”

“I have a great desire to be king some day,” said the guachinango; “but how can you make me the husband of a princess, when you are only a devil, and I am nothing but a poor guachinango?”

“As soon as you set me free,” said the devil, “I will enter the mouth of the princess and go into her brains. Then I will give her a very painful headache which no physician can cure. The king will make an announcement saying that he who can cure his daughter of her disease shall marry her. When you hear this announcement, go to the palace at once, and offer your services to the king. As soon as you reach the princess, tell me that you have come, and I will leave her immediately. The princess will then recover her former health, and you will be married to her. Do not fail to go to the palace, for I am determined to reward you for your kindness to me.”

After the guachinango had liberated the devil, he immediately set out for the city. He had not been there three days when he met a group of soldiers crying that “he who could curethe princess should have her to wife.” The guachinango stopped the soldiers, and said that he could cure the princess. They took him before the king, where a written agreement was made. If he could not cure the princess in three days, he should lose his life; but if he cured her by the end of the third day, he should marry her. The guachinango was then conducted to the room of the princess. When he approached her, he said to the devil that he had come. “You must leave the princess now; for, if you don’t, I shall be executed.” But the devil refused to leave, because he wanted to get revenge. He further told the guachinango that he wanted him to die, for then his soul would go to hell.

The guachinango became more and more hopeless. On the morning of the third day he thought of a good plan to get rid of his enemy. He asked the king to order all the bells of the neighboring churches to be tolled, while every one in the palace was to cry out loud, “Here she comes!” While all this noise was going on, the guachinango approached the princess, and told the devil that the old woman was coming with hercintas. When the devil heard this, he was terribly frightened, and left the princess and disappeared. The next day the guachinango was married to the princess.

Notes.From the testimony of the narrator, this capital story appears to have been known in Pampanga for some time. The incident of the demon entering the body of the princess, and then leaving at the request of one who has befriended him, occurs in a Tagalog story also, which I will give for the purpose of comparison. While the story is more of a fairy-tale than aMärchenproper, it appears to be a variant of ourNo. 24. Significant differences between the two will be noted, however. The Tagalog story was collected and written down for me by Manuel Reyes, a native of Manila. It runs as follows:Mabait and the Duende.Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”“I am not evil, I am a duende.”“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”“No, my friend gives it to me.”“Who is your friend?”“A duende.”Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.“Give me the money first.”After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”“What! Will the princess be my wife?”“Yes.”“How can you make her love me?”“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”“I am the duende.”“Why are you there?”“Because I want to be here.”“Go away!”“No, I won’t.”“Don’t you know me?”“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”“I am the duende, your friend.”“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.Before attempting to decide anything concerning the provenience of these two tales, we shall first examine versions of the story from other parts of the world. The nearest European analogue that I am familiar with is an Andalusian story printed by Caballero in 1866 (Ingram, 107, “The Demon’s Mother-in-Law”). An outline of the chief elements of this tale follows:—Mother Holofernes, while very neat and industrious, was a terrible termagant and shrew. Her daughter Panfila, on the contrary, was so lazy and thoughtless, that once, when the old woman burnt herself badly because herdaughter was listening to some lads singing outside, instead of helping her mother with the boiling lye for washing, the enraged Mother Holofernes shouted to her offspring, “Heaven grant that you may marry the Evil One himself!” Not long afterward a rich little man presented himself as a suitor for Panfila’s hand. He was accepted by the mother, and preparations for the marriage went forward. The old woman, however, began to dislike the suitor, and, recalling her curse, suspected that he was none other than the Devil himself. Accordingly, on the night of the wedding, she bade Panfila lock all the windows and doors of the room, and then beat her husband with a branch of consecrated olive. So done. The husband tried to escape from his wife by slipping through the key-hole; but his mother-in-law anticipated this move. She caught him in a glass bottle, which she immediately sealed hermetically. Then the old lady climbed to the summit of a mountain, and there deposited the bottle in an out-of-the-way place. Ten years the imp remained there a prisoner, suffering cold, heat, hunger, thirst. One day a soldier, returning to his native town on leave, took a short cut over the mountain, and spied the bottle. When he picked it up, the imp begged to be released, and told him of all he had suffered; but the soldier made a number of conditions,—his release from the army, a four-dollar daily pension, etc.,—and finally the imp promised to enter the body of the daughter of the King of Naples. The soldier was to present himself at court as a physician, and demand any reward he wished to, in return for a cure. So done. The king accepted the services of the soldier, but stipulated that if in three days he had not cured the princess, he should be hanged. The soldier accepted the conditions; but the demon, seeing that he had his arrogant enemy’s life in his hands, and bent on revenge, refused to leave the body of the princess. On the last day, however, the soldier ordered all the bells rung. On the demon’s asking what all the noise was about, the soldier said, “I have ordered your mother-in-law summoned, and she has just arrived.” In great terror the Devil at once quitted the princess, and the soldier was left “in victorious possession of the field.”It will be noticed that the last episode is almost identical with the ending of our story “The Devil and the Guachinango,” while there is a considerable amount of divergence between the two elsewhere.For versions collected before 1860 I am indebted to Benfey’s treatment of this cycle. It is found in his “Pantschatantra,” 1 : 519 ff. I take the liberty of summarizing it in this place, first, because it is the only exhaustive handling of the story I know of; and, second, because Benfey’s brilliant work, while constantly referred to and quoted, has long been out of print, and has never been accessible in English.The occasion for Benfey’s dissertation on this particular tale is the relationship he sees between it and the large family of stories turning on the motive of a marvellous cure, a representative of which is “Pantschatantra,” 5 : 12, “The Miraculous Cure of a Blind Man, a Humpback, and a Three-breasted Princess.”7While the story weare discussing cannot be considered in any sense an offshoot of the Pantschatantra tale, it can scarcely be denied, says Benfey, that between the two there is a definite internal relationship, which is further manifested by the fact that in its later development the latter is actually joined to the former (p. 519).The earliest form of our story is found in the“Cukasaptati,”where it is told as the story for the 45th and 46th nights. In this version,—A Brahman, driven away from home by the malice of his wife, is befriended by a demon who had formerly lived in the Brahman’s house, but who had also fled in fear from her shrewish tongue. The demon enters the body of a princess; and the Brahman, appearing as a conjurer, forces him to leave, in accordance with their pact, and wins half a kingdom and the hand of the princess. The demon now goes to another city where he possesses the queen, an aunt of the Brahman’s new father-in-law. The Brahman, whose reputation as an enchanter has become great, is summoned to cure this queen. When he arrives, the demon threatens and insults him, refusing to leave the queen because they are now quits. The Brahman, however, whispers in the woman’s ear, “My wife is coming here close on my heels, I have come only to warn you;” whereupon the demon, terror-stricken, at once leaves the queen. The Brahman is highly honored.Benfey conjectures that this story must have passed over into the Persian redaction of the “Cukasaptati” (i.e., the “Tūtī-nāmeh”), but what changes it underwent in the transmission cannot yet be determined. The earliest European form of the tale is that found in the Turkish “Forty Vezirs” (trans. by Behrnauer, p. 277).Here a young wood-cutter saves money to buy a rope; but his shrewish wife, thinking that he is going to spend it on a sweetheart, insists on accompanying him to his work in the mountains, so that she can keep him under her eye. In the mountains the husband decides to abandon his wife in a well. He tells her to hold a rope while he descends to fetch a treasure which he pretends is concealed at the bottom; but she is so avaricious, that she insists on being let down first. Then he drops the rope, and returns home free. A few days later, conscience-smitten, he goes back to rescue his wife, and, lowering another rope, he calls to her that he will draw her up; but he hauls a demon to the surface instead. The demon thanks the wood-cutter for rescuing him from a malicious woman “who some days ago descended, and has made my life unbearable ever since.” As in the Cukasaptati story, the demon enters a princess and makes her insane, and the wood-cutter cures her and marries her. Then the demon enters another princess. The wood-cutter is summoned; he has to resort to the well-known trick to force the imp to leave this second maiden.In the Persian form of this story, in the “1001 Days” (Prenzlau ed.), 11 : 247, is added the death-penalty in case the hero fails to perform the second cure, which consists in persuading the spirit, in the form of a snake, to unwind itself from the body of the vezir’s daughter. The hero had already cured the sultan’s daughter and married her.A Serbian story (Wuk, No. 37) is closer to the “Forty Vezirs” version than is the “1001 Days.” The only essential difference is that the opening of the Serbian tale is the well-knownfabliauof the “Meadow that was mowed.”Here the wife falls into a pit. When the husband attempts to draw her out again, a devil appears. The devil is thankful; and, to reward the man, it enters the body of the emperor’s daughter. Here the hero appears, not as an enchanter, but as a physician.Practically identical is the story of “The Bad Wife and the Devil,” in Vogl, “Slowenische Volksmärchen” (Wien, 1837).In a Finnish version of the story (Benfey, 524–525) the hero, as in the preceding, assumes the rôle of a physician.The husband pushes his bad wife into an abyss. When he attempts to draw her out again, another woman appears. She is the Plague.8Out of gratitude for her liberation from that other wicked woman, she proposes to him that they travel together through the world: she, the pest, will make people ill; he, as physician, will cure them. So done. As a result the man becomes rich. But at last he grows weary of his excessive work: so he procures a snappish dog, and puts it in a sack. The next time he is called to the side of a person made sick by the pest, he says to her, “Enter human beings no more: if you do, I will liberate from this sack the woman that tormented you in the abyss,” at the same time irritating the dog so that it growls. The Plague, full of terror, begs him for God’s sake not to set the woman free, and promises to reform.It will be seen that in its method of the “sickness and the cure,” this story is related to Grimm, No. 44, “Godfather Death,” where Death takes the place of the Plague, and where, instead of gratitude, the motive is the godfather relationship of Death toward the hero.This folk-tale, says Benfey (p. 525), was early put into literary form in Europe. Among others, he cites Machiavelli’s excellent version in his story of “Belfagor” (early sixteenth century):—Belfagor, a devil, is sent to earth by his master to live as a married man for ten years, to see whether certain accusations made against women by souls in hell are true or slanderous. Belfagor marries in Florence; but his imperious wife causes him so much bad fortune, that he is compelled to flee from his creditors. A peasant conceals him, and out of gratitude Belfagor tells his rescuer his story, and promises to make him rich by possessing women and allowing himself to be driven out only by the peasant himself. So done. The peasant wins great renown; and at last Belfagor says that his obligations have been fulfilled, and that the peasant must look out for himself if they meet again. The devil now enters the daughter of Ludwig II, King of France. The peasant is summoned to cure her, but isafraid, and refuses. At last he is compelled to go, like the physician, against his will (see Benfey, 515 ff.). Belfagor rages when he sees the peasant, and threatens him vehemently. At last the peasant employs the usual trick: “Your wife is coming!” and the devil flees in consternation, choosing rather to rush back to hell than into the arms of his wife.Benfey considers a Bohemian story in Wenzig’s collection (West-slawische Märchen, Leipzig, 1857, p. 167) to be the best of all the popular versions belonging to this group, and he reproduces it in full (pp. 527–534). This long story we may pass over, since it contains no new features that are found in our story. In fact, it little resembles ours or any of the others, except in general in two or three episodes. Benfey concludes his discussion of this cycle by stating that there have been many other imitations of this tale, and he mentions some of these (p. 534). It may be added that further references will be found in Wilson’s note in his edition of Dunlop, 2 : 188–190.The question of the origin of the Pampango version of this story is not easy to answer definitely, for the reason that it presents details not found in any of the other variants. However, since nearly all the machinery of our story turns on the teachings of the Roman Church, and since thedenouementis practically identical with the ending of Caballero’s Andalusian story, I conclude that in its main outlines our version was derived from Spain. At the same time, I think it likely that the fairy-tale of “Mabait and the Duende” was already existent earlier in the Islands (though this, too, may have been imported), and that the motivation of the spirit’s desire to revenge himself on his tormentor for his avarice and greed was incorporated into theMärchenfrom the fairy-tale. My reasons for thinking the fairy-tale the older are: (1) its crudeness (the good and the bad hero are a very awkward device compared with the combination of qualities in the guachinango); (2) its local references and its native names; (3) its use of native superstitions and beliefs.

From the testimony of the narrator, this capital story appears to have been known in Pampanga for some time. The incident of the demon entering the body of the princess, and then leaving at the request of one who has befriended him, occurs in a Tagalog story also, which I will give for the purpose of comparison. While the story is more of a fairy-tale than aMärchenproper, it appears to be a variant of ourNo. 24. Significant differences between the two will be noted, however. The Tagalog story was collected and written down for me by Manuel Reyes, a native of Manila. It runs as follows:

Mabait and the Duende.Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”“I am not evil, I am a duende.”“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”“No, my friend gives it to me.”“Who is your friend?”“A duende.”Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.“Give me the money first.”After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”“What! Will the princess be my wife?”“Yes.”“How can you make her love me?”“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”“I am the duende.”“Why are you there?”“Because I want to be here.”“Go away!”“No, I won’t.”“Don’t you know me?”“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”“I am the duende, your friend.”“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.

Mabait and the Duende.Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”“I am not evil, I am a duende.”“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”“No, my friend gives it to me.”“Who is your friend?”“A duende.”Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.“Give me the money first.”After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”“What! Will the princess be my wife?”“Yes.”“How can you make her love me?”“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”“I am the duende.”“Why are you there?”“Because I want to be here.”“Go away!”“No, I won’t.”“Don’t you know me?”“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”“I am the duende, your friend.”“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.

Mabait and the Duende.Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”“I am not evil, I am a duende.”“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”“No, my friend gives it to me.”“Who is your friend?”“A duende.”Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.“Give me the money first.”After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”“What! Will the princess be my wife?”“Yes.”“How can you make her love me?”“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”“I am the duende.”“Why are you there?”“Because I want to be here.”“Go away!”“No, I won’t.”“Don’t you know me?”“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”“I am the duende, your friend.”“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.

Menguita, a king of Cebu, had two slaves,—Mabait and Masama. Mabait was honest and industrious, while Masama was envious and lazy. Mabait did nearly all of the hard work in the palace, so he was admired very much by the king. Masama, who was addicted to gambling, envied Mabait.

One night, while Mabait was asleep, a duende4awakened him, and said, “I have seen how you labor here patiently and honestly. I want to be your friend.”

Mabait was amazed and frightened. He looked at the duende carefully, and saw that it resembled a very small man with long hair and a white beard. It was about a foot high. It had on a red shirt, a pair of green trousers, a golden cap, and a pair of black shoes. At last Mabait answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to be a friend of an evil spirit.”

“I am not evil, I am a duende.”

“I don’t know what duendes are, so I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Duendes are wealthy and powerful spirits. They can perform magic. If you are the friend of one of them, you will be a most fortunate man.”

“How did you come into the world?” said Mabait.

“Listen! When Lucifer was an angel, a contest in creating animals arose between him and God. He and his followers were defeated and thrown into hell. Many angels in that contest belonged neither to God’s side not to Lucifer’s. They were dropped on the earth. Those that fell in the forests became tigbalangs, ikis, and mananangals;5those in the seas became mermaids and mermen; and those in the cities became duendes.”

“Ah, yes! I know now what duendes are.”

“Now let our friendship last forever,” said the duende. “I am ready at any time to help you in your undertakings.”

From that time on Mabait and the duende were good friends. The duende gave Mabait two or three isabels6every day, and by the end of the month he had saved much money. He bought a fine hat and a pair of wooden shoes.

Masama wondered how Mabait, who was very poor, could buy so many things. At last he asked, “Where do you get money? Do you steal it?”

“No, my friend gives it to me.”

“Who is your friend?”

“A duende.”

Masama, in great envy, went to the king, and said, “Master, Mabait, your favorite slave, has a friend. This friend is a duende, which will be injurious to us if you let it live here. As Mabait said, it will be the means of his acquiring all of your wealth and taking your daughter for his wife.”

The king, in great rage, summoned Mabait, and punished him severely by beating his palms with a piece of leather. Then he ordered his servants to find the duende and kill it. The duende hid in a small jar. Masama saw it, and covered the mouth of the jar with a saint’s dress. The duende was afraid of the dress, and dared not come out. “Open the jar, and I will give you ten isabels,” said the little man.

“Give me the money first.”

After Masama received the money, he went away to the cockpit without opening the jar. On his way there he lost his money. He went back to the duende, and said, “Friend, give me ten isabels more, and I will open the jar.”

“I know that you will cheat me,” answered the duende. “Just let me come out of the jar, and I promise that you shall have the princess here for your wife.”

“What! Will the princess be my wife?”

“Yes.”

“How can you make her love me?”

“I will enter the princess’s abdomen. I will talk, laugh, and do everything to make her afraid. I will not leave her for anybody but you.”

“Good, good!” Masama opened the jar, and the duende, flew a way to the princess’s tower.

Only a few weeks after that time a proclamation of the king was read in public. It was as follows: “The princess, my daughter, has something in her abdomen. It speaks and laughs. No one knows what it is, and no one can force it to come out. Whoever can cure my daughter shall be my heir and son-in-law; but he who tries and fails shall lose his head.”

When Masama heard this, he said to Mabait, “Why don’t you cure the princess? You are the only one who can cure her.”

“Don’t flatter me!” answered Mabait.

“I’m not flattering you. It is the duende, your friend, who is in her abdomen, and no one can persuade it to come out but you. So go now, for fortune is waiting for you.”

Mabait was at last persuaded, and so he departed. Before going to the king, he first went to a church, and there he prayed Bathala that he might be successful in his undertakings. When Mabait was gone, Masama said to himself, “It is not fortune, but it is death, that is waiting for him. When he is dead, I shall not have anybody to envy.”

After sitting for about a half-hour, Masama also set out for the princess’s tower, but he reached the palace before Mabait. There he told the king that he could cure his daughter. He was conducted into the princess’s room. He touched her abdomen, and said, “Who are you?”

“I am the duende.”

“Why are you there?”

“Because I want to be here.”

“Go away!”

“No, I won’t.”

“Don’t you know me?”

“Yes, I know you. You are Masama, who cheated me once. Give your head to the king.” So the executioner cut Masama’s head off.

Then Mabait came, and told the king that he could cure the princess. After he was given permission to try, he said to the duende, “Who are you?”

“I am the duende, your friend.”

“Will you please come out of the princess’s abdomen?”

“Yes, I will, for the sake of our friendship.”

Mabait was married to the princess, was crowned king, and lived happily with his friend the duende.

Before attempting to decide anything concerning the provenience of these two tales, we shall first examine versions of the story from other parts of the world. The nearest European analogue that I am familiar with is an Andalusian story printed by Caballero in 1866 (Ingram, 107, “The Demon’s Mother-in-Law”). An outline of the chief elements of this tale follows:—

Mother Holofernes, while very neat and industrious, was a terrible termagant and shrew. Her daughter Panfila, on the contrary, was so lazy and thoughtless, that once, when the old woman burnt herself badly because herdaughter was listening to some lads singing outside, instead of helping her mother with the boiling lye for washing, the enraged Mother Holofernes shouted to her offspring, “Heaven grant that you may marry the Evil One himself!” Not long afterward a rich little man presented himself as a suitor for Panfila’s hand. He was accepted by the mother, and preparations for the marriage went forward. The old woman, however, began to dislike the suitor, and, recalling her curse, suspected that he was none other than the Devil himself. Accordingly, on the night of the wedding, she bade Panfila lock all the windows and doors of the room, and then beat her husband with a branch of consecrated olive. So done. The husband tried to escape from his wife by slipping through the key-hole; but his mother-in-law anticipated this move. She caught him in a glass bottle, which she immediately sealed hermetically. Then the old lady climbed to the summit of a mountain, and there deposited the bottle in an out-of-the-way place. Ten years the imp remained there a prisoner, suffering cold, heat, hunger, thirst. One day a soldier, returning to his native town on leave, took a short cut over the mountain, and spied the bottle. When he picked it up, the imp begged to be released, and told him of all he had suffered; but the soldier made a number of conditions,—his release from the army, a four-dollar daily pension, etc.,—and finally the imp promised to enter the body of the daughter of the King of Naples. The soldier was to present himself at court as a physician, and demand any reward he wished to, in return for a cure. So done. The king accepted the services of the soldier, but stipulated that if in three days he had not cured the princess, he should be hanged. The soldier accepted the conditions; but the demon, seeing that he had his arrogant enemy’s life in his hands, and bent on revenge, refused to leave the body of the princess. On the last day, however, the soldier ordered all the bells rung. On the demon’s asking what all the noise was about, the soldier said, “I have ordered your mother-in-law summoned, and she has just arrived.” In great terror the Devil at once quitted the princess, and the soldier was left “in victorious possession of the field.”

Mother Holofernes, while very neat and industrious, was a terrible termagant and shrew. Her daughter Panfila, on the contrary, was so lazy and thoughtless, that once, when the old woman burnt herself badly because herdaughter was listening to some lads singing outside, instead of helping her mother with the boiling lye for washing, the enraged Mother Holofernes shouted to her offspring, “Heaven grant that you may marry the Evil One himself!” Not long afterward a rich little man presented himself as a suitor for Panfila’s hand. He was accepted by the mother, and preparations for the marriage went forward. The old woman, however, began to dislike the suitor, and, recalling her curse, suspected that he was none other than the Devil himself. Accordingly, on the night of the wedding, she bade Panfila lock all the windows and doors of the room, and then beat her husband with a branch of consecrated olive. So done. The husband tried to escape from his wife by slipping through the key-hole; but his mother-in-law anticipated this move. She caught him in a glass bottle, which she immediately sealed hermetically. Then the old lady climbed to the summit of a mountain, and there deposited the bottle in an out-of-the-way place. Ten years the imp remained there a prisoner, suffering cold, heat, hunger, thirst. One day a soldier, returning to his native town on leave, took a short cut over the mountain, and spied the bottle. When he picked it up, the imp begged to be released, and told him of all he had suffered; but the soldier made a number of conditions,—his release from the army, a four-dollar daily pension, etc.,—and finally the imp promised to enter the body of the daughter of the King of Naples. The soldier was to present himself at court as a physician, and demand any reward he wished to, in return for a cure. So done. The king accepted the services of the soldier, but stipulated that if in three days he had not cured the princess, he should be hanged. The soldier accepted the conditions; but the demon, seeing that he had his arrogant enemy’s life in his hands, and bent on revenge, refused to leave the body of the princess. On the last day, however, the soldier ordered all the bells rung. On the demon’s asking what all the noise was about, the soldier said, “I have ordered your mother-in-law summoned, and she has just arrived.” In great terror the Devil at once quitted the princess, and the soldier was left “in victorious possession of the field.”

It will be noticed that the last episode is almost identical with the ending of our story “The Devil and the Guachinango,” while there is a considerable amount of divergence between the two elsewhere.

For versions collected before 1860 I am indebted to Benfey’s treatment of this cycle. It is found in his “Pantschatantra,” 1 : 519 ff. I take the liberty of summarizing it in this place, first, because it is the only exhaustive handling of the story I know of; and, second, because Benfey’s brilliant work, while constantly referred to and quoted, has long been out of print, and has never been accessible in English.

The occasion for Benfey’s dissertation on this particular tale is the relationship he sees between it and the large family of stories turning on the motive of a marvellous cure, a representative of which is “Pantschatantra,” 5 : 12, “The Miraculous Cure of a Blind Man, a Humpback, and a Three-breasted Princess.”7While the story weare discussing cannot be considered in any sense an offshoot of the Pantschatantra tale, it can scarcely be denied, says Benfey, that between the two there is a definite internal relationship, which is further manifested by the fact that in its later development the latter is actually joined to the former (p. 519).

The earliest form of our story is found in the“Cukasaptati,”where it is told as the story for the 45th and 46th nights. In this version,—

A Brahman, driven away from home by the malice of his wife, is befriended by a demon who had formerly lived in the Brahman’s house, but who had also fled in fear from her shrewish tongue. The demon enters the body of a princess; and the Brahman, appearing as a conjurer, forces him to leave, in accordance with their pact, and wins half a kingdom and the hand of the princess. The demon now goes to another city where he possesses the queen, an aunt of the Brahman’s new father-in-law. The Brahman, whose reputation as an enchanter has become great, is summoned to cure this queen. When he arrives, the demon threatens and insults him, refusing to leave the queen because they are now quits. The Brahman, however, whispers in the woman’s ear, “My wife is coming here close on my heels, I have come only to warn you;” whereupon the demon, terror-stricken, at once leaves the queen. The Brahman is highly honored.

A Brahman, driven away from home by the malice of his wife, is befriended by a demon who had formerly lived in the Brahman’s house, but who had also fled in fear from her shrewish tongue. The demon enters the body of a princess; and the Brahman, appearing as a conjurer, forces him to leave, in accordance with their pact, and wins half a kingdom and the hand of the princess. The demon now goes to another city where he possesses the queen, an aunt of the Brahman’s new father-in-law. The Brahman, whose reputation as an enchanter has become great, is summoned to cure this queen. When he arrives, the demon threatens and insults him, refusing to leave the queen because they are now quits. The Brahman, however, whispers in the woman’s ear, “My wife is coming here close on my heels, I have come only to warn you;” whereupon the demon, terror-stricken, at once leaves the queen. The Brahman is highly honored.

Benfey conjectures that this story must have passed over into the Persian redaction of the “Cukasaptati” (i.e., the “Tūtī-nāmeh”), but what changes it underwent in the transmission cannot yet be determined. The earliest European form of the tale is that found in the Turkish “Forty Vezirs” (trans. by Behrnauer, p. 277).

Here a young wood-cutter saves money to buy a rope; but his shrewish wife, thinking that he is going to spend it on a sweetheart, insists on accompanying him to his work in the mountains, so that she can keep him under her eye. In the mountains the husband decides to abandon his wife in a well. He tells her to hold a rope while he descends to fetch a treasure which he pretends is concealed at the bottom; but she is so avaricious, that she insists on being let down first. Then he drops the rope, and returns home free. A few days later, conscience-smitten, he goes back to rescue his wife, and, lowering another rope, he calls to her that he will draw her up; but he hauls a demon to the surface instead. The demon thanks the wood-cutter for rescuing him from a malicious woman “who some days ago descended, and has made my life unbearable ever since.” As in the Cukasaptati story, the demon enters a princess and makes her insane, and the wood-cutter cures her and marries her. Then the demon enters another princess. The wood-cutter is summoned; he has to resort to the well-known trick to force the imp to leave this second maiden.

Here a young wood-cutter saves money to buy a rope; but his shrewish wife, thinking that he is going to spend it on a sweetheart, insists on accompanying him to his work in the mountains, so that she can keep him under her eye. In the mountains the husband decides to abandon his wife in a well. He tells her to hold a rope while he descends to fetch a treasure which he pretends is concealed at the bottom; but she is so avaricious, that she insists on being let down first. Then he drops the rope, and returns home free. A few days later, conscience-smitten, he goes back to rescue his wife, and, lowering another rope, he calls to her that he will draw her up; but he hauls a demon to the surface instead. The demon thanks the wood-cutter for rescuing him from a malicious woman “who some days ago descended, and has made my life unbearable ever since.” As in the Cukasaptati story, the demon enters a princess and makes her insane, and the wood-cutter cures her and marries her. Then the demon enters another princess. The wood-cutter is summoned; he has to resort to the well-known trick to force the imp to leave this second maiden.

In the Persian form of this story, in the “1001 Days” (Prenzlau ed.), 11 : 247, is added the death-penalty in case the hero fails to perform the second cure, which consists in persuading the spirit, in the form of a snake, to unwind itself from the body of the vezir’s daughter. The hero had already cured the sultan’s daughter and married her.

A Serbian story (Wuk, No. 37) is closer to the “Forty Vezirs” version than is the “1001 Days.” The only essential difference is that the opening of the Serbian tale is the well-knownfabliauof the “Meadow that was mowed.”

Here the wife falls into a pit. When the husband attempts to draw her out again, a devil appears. The devil is thankful; and, to reward the man, it enters the body of the emperor’s daughter. Here the hero appears, not as an enchanter, but as a physician.

Here the wife falls into a pit. When the husband attempts to draw her out again, a devil appears. The devil is thankful; and, to reward the man, it enters the body of the emperor’s daughter. Here the hero appears, not as an enchanter, but as a physician.

Practically identical is the story of “The Bad Wife and the Devil,” in Vogl, “Slowenische Volksmärchen” (Wien, 1837).

In a Finnish version of the story (Benfey, 524–525) the hero, as in the preceding, assumes the rôle of a physician.

The husband pushes his bad wife into an abyss. When he attempts to draw her out again, another woman appears. She is the Plague.8Out of gratitude for her liberation from that other wicked woman, she proposes to him that they travel together through the world: she, the pest, will make people ill; he, as physician, will cure them. So done. As a result the man becomes rich. But at last he grows weary of his excessive work: so he procures a snappish dog, and puts it in a sack. The next time he is called to the side of a person made sick by the pest, he says to her, “Enter human beings no more: if you do, I will liberate from this sack the woman that tormented you in the abyss,” at the same time irritating the dog so that it growls. The Plague, full of terror, begs him for God’s sake not to set the woman free, and promises to reform.

The husband pushes his bad wife into an abyss. When he attempts to draw her out again, another woman appears. She is the Plague.8Out of gratitude for her liberation from that other wicked woman, she proposes to him that they travel together through the world: she, the pest, will make people ill; he, as physician, will cure them. So done. As a result the man becomes rich. But at last he grows weary of his excessive work: so he procures a snappish dog, and puts it in a sack. The next time he is called to the side of a person made sick by the pest, he says to her, “Enter human beings no more: if you do, I will liberate from this sack the woman that tormented you in the abyss,” at the same time irritating the dog so that it growls. The Plague, full of terror, begs him for God’s sake not to set the woman free, and promises to reform.

It will be seen that in its method of the “sickness and the cure,” this story is related to Grimm, No. 44, “Godfather Death,” where Death takes the place of the Plague, and where, instead of gratitude, the motive is the godfather relationship of Death toward the hero.

This folk-tale, says Benfey (p. 525), was early put into literary form in Europe. Among others, he cites Machiavelli’s excellent version in his story of “Belfagor” (early sixteenth century):—

Belfagor, a devil, is sent to earth by his master to live as a married man for ten years, to see whether certain accusations made against women by souls in hell are true or slanderous. Belfagor marries in Florence; but his imperious wife causes him so much bad fortune, that he is compelled to flee from his creditors. A peasant conceals him, and out of gratitude Belfagor tells his rescuer his story, and promises to make him rich by possessing women and allowing himself to be driven out only by the peasant himself. So done. The peasant wins great renown; and at last Belfagor says that his obligations have been fulfilled, and that the peasant must look out for himself if they meet again. The devil now enters the daughter of Ludwig II, King of France. The peasant is summoned to cure her, but isafraid, and refuses. At last he is compelled to go, like the physician, against his will (see Benfey, 515 ff.). Belfagor rages when he sees the peasant, and threatens him vehemently. At last the peasant employs the usual trick: “Your wife is coming!” and the devil flees in consternation, choosing rather to rush back to hell than into the arms of his wife.

Belfagor, a devil, is sent to earth by his master to live as a married man for ten years, to see whether certain accusations made against women by souls in hell are true or slanderous. Belfagor marries in Florence; but his imperious wife causes him so much bad fortune, that he is compelled to flee from his creditors. A peasant conceals him, and out of gratitude Belfagor tells his rescuer his story, and promises to make him rich by possessing women and allowing himself to be driven out only by the peasant himself. So done. The peasant wins great renown; and at last Belfagor says that his obligations have been fulfilled, and that the peasant must look out for himself if they meet again. The devil now enters the daughter of Ludwig II, King of France. The peasant is summoned to cure her, but isafraid, and refuses. At last he is compelled to go, like the physician, against his will (see Benfey, 515 ff.). Belfagor rages when he sees the peasant, and threatens him vehemently. At last the peasant employs the usual trick: “Your wife is coming!” and the devil flees in consternation, choosing rather to rush back to hell than into the arms of his wife.

Benfey considers a Bohemian story in Wenzig’s collection (West-slawische Märchen, Leipzig, 1857, p. 167) to be the best of all the popular versions belonging to this group, and he reproduces it in full (pp. 527–534). This long story we may pass over, since it contains no new features that are found in our story. In fact, it little resembles ours or any of the others, except in general in two or three episodes. Benfey concludes his discussion of this cycle by stating that there have been many other imitations of this tale, and he mentions some of these (p. 534). It may be added that further references will be found in Wilson’s note in his edition of Dunlop, 2 : 188–190.

The question of the origin of the Pampango version of this story is not easy to answer definitely, for the reason that it presents details not found in any of the other variants. However, since nearly all the machinery of our story turns on the teachings of the Roman Church, and since thedenouementis practically identical with the ending of Caballero’s Andalusian story, I conclude that in its main outlines our version was derived from Spain. At the same time, I think it likely that the fairy-tale of “Mabait and the Duende” was already existent earlier in the Islands (though this, too, may have been imported), and that the motivation of the spirit’s desire to revenge himself on his tormentor for his avarice and greed was incorporated into theMärchenfrom the fairy-tale. My reasons for thinking the fairy-tale the older are: (1) its crudeness (the good and the bad hero are a very awkward device compared with the combination of qualities in the guachinango); (2) its local references and its native names; (3) its use of native superstitions and beliefs.

1Cintas, a holy belt worn by women.2Seenote 1 onpagui(“sting-ray”), p. 43.3Guachinango, defined by the narrator as “vagabond.” The word is used in Cuba as a nickname for the natives of Mexico.4While the termduendeis Spanish, the other three spirits mentioned—tigbalang, iki, mananangal—are good old native demons.5Seefootnote 1, p. 217.6Same as the Cuban isabelina.7The episode of a mutual cure being effected by a blind man and a lame man, we have already met with in two of the versions of ourNo. 6.8It may be noted, in passing, that among certain of the Tagalogs the pestilence (cholera particularly) is personified as an old woman dressed in black, who goes about the town at night knocking for admittance. If any one pays attention to her summons, the result is fatal to him. This evil spirit is known assalut.

1Cintas, a holy belt worn by women.

2Seenote 1 onpagui(“sting-ray”), p. 43.

3Guachinango, defined by the narrator as “vagabond.” The word is used in Cuba as a nickname for the natives of Mexico.

4While the termduendeis Spanish, the other three spirits mentioned—tigbalang, iki, mananangal—are good old native demons.

5Seefootnote 1, p. 217.

6Same as the Cuban isabelina.

7The episode of a mutual cure being effected by a blind man and a lame man, we have already met with in two of the versions of ourNo. 6.

8It may be noted, in passing, that among certain of the Tagalogs the pestilence (cholera particularly) is personified as an old woman dressed in black, who goes about the town at night knocking for admittance. If any one pays attention to her summons, the result is fatal to him. This evil spirit is known assalut.

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