SOMETHING SEEMED TO WHISPER TO HIM: "STOP, KARL, AND EAT."SOMETHING SEEMED TO WHISPER TO HIM: "STOP, KARL, AND EAT."
As he hurried along with the plate of pancakes in his hand he glanced into every green thicket that he passed, half hopeful, and half fearful that he might find a tiny creature hidden in the leaves. Not a glimpse of fairy or goblin did he see, but when he came to the blackberry bushes where the sweetest berries grow something seemed to whisper to him: "Stop, Karl, and eat."
"But I am taking a plate of pancakes for my father's dinner," said Karl speaking aloud.
"A moment or two will make no difference. You can run fast," came the whisper again.
"Oh, yes, I can run fast," said Karl; and he put the plate down under the bushes and began to pickthe berries. They were as ripe and sweet as they had looked and every one that the little boy put into his mouth made him wish for another; and if he turned away from the bushes the whisper was sure to come: "One more and then go."
The pancakes grew cold in the plate, and the sun which had been high in the sky when Karl started from home slipped farther and farther into the west; but still he lingered, till suddenly the evening whistle of the mill sounded sharp and shrill in his ears.
"Why, it is time for my father to come home," he cried. "Dear me, dear me, what shall I do?"
There was nothing for him to do but to go home, so home he went with the plate of cold pancakes in his hand and the tears rolling down his cheeks.
When he told his mother and grandmother what had happened they looked at each other wisely as if they thought more about it than they would say; but they bade him dry his tears.
"You will be more careful another time," they said; and so the matter ended.
But Karl did not forget it. It was many a month before his mother fried pancakes again, but no sooner did he see her turning the cakes in the pan than he said:
"I wish my father had some of these fine cakes for his dinner, don't you, mother?"
"Indeed I do," said she, smiling at his grandmother as she spoke; and as soon as the cakes were done she selected the brownest and crispest, and putting them in a plate with a white napkin over them, she bade him take them.
"I'll get there in time for my father's dinner to-day," he said as he started out; but in a very short while he was back with an empty plate in his hand, and the tears rolling down his cheeks.
"I only put the plate down for a minute while I chased a rabbit that said, 'If you catch me you mayhave me;' and when I came back every pancake was gone," he sobbed.
His mother and grandmother looked at each other wisely when they heard this.
"It is just as I thought the first time," said his mother. "The goblins are at work in the wood. He must never go there again."
But to this the grandmother would not agree.
"Leave it to me," she said, and the very next day she fried pancakes, and selecting the brownest and crispest she put them in a plate with a white napkin over them and bade Karl take them to his father.
"And if any bid you stop or stay, or turn your feet from out your way, say but the word that is spelled with the fourteenth and fifteenth letters of the alphabet three times in a loud voice, and all will go well with you," she said.
"All right," said Karl, nodding his head proudly, for he knew all his letters by this time and could spellhard words like c-a-t, cat, m-a-t, mat. "All right," but he did not stop to count the letters then for he was in a great hurry to be off.
"I guess my father will be glad to get such fine pancakes for his dinner," he said; and he ran so fast that he was half-way to the mill before he knew it.
There was no whispering voice in the wood that day and no talking rabbit to tempt him to a chase; but as he came to a place where another path crossed his own, a bird called out from the heart of the wood:
"Quick, quick, come here, here, here——"
"Where, where?" cried Karl; and he was just about to start in search of the bird when he remembered what his grandmother had said:
"If any bid you stop or stay, or turn your feet from out your way, say but the word that is spelled with the fourteenth and fifteenth letters of the alphabet three times in a loud voice, and all will go well with you."
"A, B, C, D, E, F, G," he chanted, counting the letters on his fingers as he said them, "H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O:" N was the fourteenth letter and O was the fifteenth. N-O; that was easy.
"No! No! No!" he shouted; and—do you believe it?—in less time than it takes to tell it he was at the mill door with every pancake safe and hot.
And the story goes that though he came and went through the Enchanted Wood all the days of his life he was never hindered by anything there again; and he never saw a goblin though he lived to be as old as his grandmother had been when he was a little boy.
O
ne evening Little Maid Hildegarde's father came home with wonderful news; the knights were coming to town. He had heard it as he came from the forest where he cut wood all day and he hurried every step of the way home to tell Hildegarde and her mother.
"They are on the king's business and will be at the Church Square to-morrow morning at the hour of ten. Everybody in town will be there to see them. Old Grandmother Grey is going to ask them to ride in search of her little lamb that has gone astray; and the mayor will tell them of the wolves that come in the winter. The good knights are always glad to help," he said.
Little Maid Hildegarde knew all about the knights. Her father was never tired of telling, or she of hearing, how they fought and killed the fierce dragon that had troubled the people of the border; and put out the forest fires in the time of the great drought and fed the hungry when the famine was in the land. And yet with all of their great deeds they were merry men, not too proud to sing at a feast or play with a child.
And many an evening, though Hildegarde was growing to be a great girl, her mother sat by her bed to sing a song that she had sung to her when she was a babe in the cradle:
"Hush, my baby, do not cry,Five brave knights go riding by.One is dressed in bonny blue;He's the leader, strong and true.One is clad from head to toeIn an armor white as snow."One in crimson bright is drest,With a star upon his breast.One in gold and one in green,Cloth of gold and satin sheen.Hush, my baby, do not cry,Five brave knights go riding by."
"Hush, my baby, do not cry,Five brave knights go riding by.One is dressed in bonny blue;He's the leader, strong and true.One is clad from head to toeIn an armor white as snow.
"One in crimson bright is drest,With a star upon his breast.One in gold and one in green,Cloth of gold and satin sheen.Hush, my baby, do not cry,Five brave knights go riding by."
Oh, how Hildegarde had longed to see those splendid riders! And now at last she was to have her heart's desire. It seemed almost too good to be true.
"Shall we start to town as soon as the new day comes?" she asked.
"Just as soon as the cows are taken to the pasture, and the little chicks are fed," said her mother; and the little maid went to bed well satisfied.
But alas, for Hildegarde and her hopes! The morning sun had scarcely shone when her mother awoke with a terrible pain in her head, and her father slipped on his way to the barn and sprained his foot so he could not walk. And there was no one to take thechild to the Church Square. No, not even a neighbor, for Hildegarde and her mother and father lived apart from every one else, and the wood that is called Enchanted lay between them and the town.
There was no help for it. Hildegarde knew herself, without a word from any one, that she could not go; but as she ran about the house to wait on them, she heard her mother and father talking.
"It is not for the pain in my face that I grieve," said the good mother; "but for the disappointment of our little maid."
"Aye," said the father, "I would bear my hurt, and more too, willingly, if only she might see the gallant knights."
And when Hildegarde heard what they said she made haste to wipe away the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks, and went about her work with a pleasant face.
All day long she was busy for there were the cowsto take to the pasture, and the little chicks to feed, and the eggs to gather; but at sunset her tasks were done, and with her doll in her arms she sat in the doorway of the house and looked away toward the town, the towers of which just showed above the Enchanted Wood.
Highest of all was the spire of the church that stood in the square where the knights had been; and as Hildegarde watched it change from grey to gold in the sunset glow, she thought of them and wondered where they had gone when their business was done.
Some day they would come again and then she should surely see them, her father said; and already she had begun to look forward to that time.
"Perhaps they will come when the wolves do in the winter," she said to herself; but scarcely had she spoken when through an opening in the wood she spied a horseman riding at a stately pace. Behind him came another, and another till she had counted five—fivebrave knights! Yes, there they came with prancing steeds and shining shields, and splendid clothes!
One bore a banner blue as the sky on a summer's day, and the next held a wee lamb close within his arms. A dragon's head hung from another's saddle, and two had bugles by their sides.
Not a word was spoken. As silently as the stars shine out at evening they passed the door where the child sat wonder-struck; and as quietly as the sun goes down at the day's end they vanished into the wood again before she could move or call. But just as the green of the last one's coat faded away into the green of the trees, Hildegarde thought she heard a strain of sweetest music!
Now there were those, and Hildegarde's mother and father were among them, who believed that the little maid, tired from her long busy day, had fallen asleep, and dreamed a beautiful dream.
But as for Hildegarde, she kept the vision in her heart alway; and when as the years went by she hadlittle ones of her own to rock to sleep, she told them of it, and sang to them as her mother had sung to her:
Music
Words,Maud Lindsay
Air, Old Song
Hush, my ba-by, do not cry, Five brave knights go rid-ing by.One is dressed in bon-ny blue; He's the lead-er, strong and true.One is clad from head to toe In an ar-mor white as snow.One in crim-son bright is drest, With a star up-on his breast.One in gold and one in green, Cloth of gold and sat-in sheen.Hush, my ba-by, do not cry, Five brave knights go rid-ing by.
YES, THERE THEY CAME!YES, THERE THEY CAME!
T
here was once upon a time an old woman who wanted an apple dumpling for supper. She had plenty of flour and plenty of butter, plenty of sugar and plenty of spice for a dozen dumplings, but there was one thing she did not have; and that was an apple.
She had plums, a tree full of them, the roundest and reddest that you can imagine; but, though you can make butter from cream and raisins of grapes, you cannot make an apple dumpling with plums, and there is no use trying.
The more the old woman thought of the dumpling the more she wanted it, and at last she dressed herself in her Sunday best and started out to seek an apple.
Before she left home, however, she filled a basketwith plums from her plum-tree and, covering it over with a white cloth, hung it on her arm, for she said to herself: "There may be those in the world who have apples, and need plums."
She had not gone very far when she came to a poultry yard filled with fine hens and geese and guineas. Ca-ca, quawk, quawk, poterack! What a noise they made; and in the midst of them stood a young woman who was feeding them with yellow corn. She nodded pleasantly to the old woman, and the old woman nodded to her; and soon the two were talking as if they had known each other always.
The young woman told the old woman about her fowls and the old woman told the young woman about the dumpling and the basket of plums for which she hoped to get apples.
"Dear me," said the young woman when she heard this, "there is nothing my husband likes better than plum jelly with goose for his Sunday dinner, but unless you will take a bag of feathers for your plums he must do without, for that is the best I can offer you."
"One pleased is better than two disappointed," said the old woman then; and she emptied the plums into the young woman's apron and putting the bag of feathers into her basket trudged on as merrily as before; for she said to herself:
"If I am no nearer the dumpling than when I left home, I am at least no farther from it; and that feathers are lighter to carry than plums nobody can deny."
Trudge, trudge, up hill and down she went, and presently she came to a garden of sweet flowers; lilies, lilacs, violets, roses—oh, never was there a lovelier garden!
The old woman stopped at the gate to look at the flowers; and as she looked she heard a man and a woman, who sat on the door-step of a house that stood in the garden, quarreling.
"Cotton," said the woman.
"Straw," said the man.
"'Tis not—"
"It is," they cried, and so it went between them, till they spied the old woman at the gate.
"Here is one who will settle the matter," said the woman then; and she called to the old woman:
"Good mother, answer me this: If you were making a cushion for your grandfather's chair would you not stuff it with cotton?"
"No," said the old woman.
"I told you so," cried the man. "Straw is the thing, and no need to go farther than the barn for it;" but the old woman shook her head.
"I would not stuff the cushion with straw," said she; and it would have been hard to tell which one was the more cast down by her answers, the man or the woman.
But the old woman made haste to take the bag of feathers out of her basket, and give it to them.
"A feather cushion is fit for a king," she said, "and as for me, an apple for a dumpling, or a nosegay from your garden will serve me as well as what I give."
The man and the woman had no apples, but they were glad to exchange a nosegay from their garden for a bag of fine feathers, you may be sure.
"There is nothing nicer for a cushion than feathers," said the woman.
"My mother had one made of them," said the man; and they laughed like children as they hurried into the garden to fill the old woman's basket with the loveliest posies; lilies, lilacs, violets, roses—oh! never was there a sweeter nosegay.
"A good bargain, and not all of it in the basket," said the old woman, for she was pleased to have stopped the quarrel, and when she had wished the two good fortune and a long life, she went upon her way again.
Now her way was the king's highway, and as she walked there she met a young lord who was dressed inhis finest clothes, for he was going to see his lady love. He would have been as handsome a young man as ever the sun shone on had it not been that his forehead was wrinkled into a terrible frown, and the corners of his mouth drawn down as if he had not a friend left in the whole world.
"A fair day and a good road," said the old woman, stopping to drop him a courtesy.
"Fair or foul, good or bad, 'tis all one to me," said he, "when the court jeweler has forgotten to send the ring he promised, and I must go to my lady with empty hands."
"Empty hands are better than an empty heart," said the old woman; "but then we are young only once; so you shall have a gift for your lady though I may never have an apple dumpling." And she took the nosegay from her basket and gave it to the young lord which pleased him so much that the frown smoothed away from his forehead, and his mouthspread itself in a smile, and he was as handsome a young man as ever the sun shone on.
"Fair exchange is no robbery,"[3]said he, and he unfastened a golden chain from round his neck and gave it to the old woman, and went away holding his nosegay with great care.
[3]An old saying.
[3]An old saying.
The old woman was delighted.
"With this golden chain I might buy all the apples in the king's market, and then have something to spare," she said to herself, as she hurried away toward town as fast as her feet could carry her.
But she had gone no farther than the turn of the road when she came upon a mother and children, standing in a doorway, whose faces were as sorrowful as her own was happy.
"What is the matter?" she asked as soon as she reached them.
"Matter enough," answered the mother, "when thelast crust of bread is eaten and not a farthing in the house to buy more."
SHE SAW AN APPLE-TREE AS FULL OF APPLES AS HER PLUM-TREE WAS FULL OF PLUMS.SHE SAW AN APPLE-TREE AS FULL OF APPLES AS HER PLUM-TREE WAS FULL OF PLUMS.
"Well-a-day," cried the old woman when this was told her. "Never shall it be said of me that I eat apple dumpling for supper while my neighbors lack bread;" and she put the golden chain into the mother's hands and hurried on without waiting for thanks.
She was not out of sight of the house, though, when the mother and children, every one of them laughing and talking as if it were Christmas or Candlemas day, overtook her.
"Little have we to give you," said the mother who was the happiest of all, "for that you have done for us, but here is a little dog, whose barking will keep loneliness from your house, and a blessing goes with it."
The old woman did not have the heart to say them nay, so into the basket went the little dog, and very snugly he lay there.
"A bag of feathers for a basket of plums; a nosegay of flowers for a bag of feathers; a golden chain for a nosegay of flowers; a dog and a blessing for a golden chain; all the world is give and take, and who knows but that I may have my apple yet," said the old woman as she hurried on.
And sure enough she had not gone a half dozen yards when, right before her, she saw an apple-tree as full of apples as her plum-tree was full of plums. It grew in front of a house as much like her own as if the two were peas in the same pod; and on the porch of the house sat a little old man.
"A fine tree of apples!" called the old woman as soon as she was in speaking distance of him.
"Aye, but apple-trees and apples are poor company when a man is growing old," said the old man; "and I would give them all if I had even so much as a little dog to bark on my door-step."
"Bow-wow!" called the dog in the old woman'sbasket, and in less time than it takes to read this story he was barking on the old man's door-step, and the old woman was on her way home with a basket of apples on her arm.
She got there in plenty of time to make the dumpling for supper, and it was as sweet and brown a dumpling as heart could desire.
"If you try long enough and hard enough you can always have an apple dumpling for supper," said the old woman; and she ate the dumpling to the very last crumb; and enjoyed it, too.
T
here was once upon a time a faithful servant whose name was Hans. He served the king his master so long and so well that one day the king said to him:
"Speak, Hans, and tell me what three things do you most desire that I may give them to you as a reward for your faithfulness."
[4]Adapted with a free hand from Grimm's "White Snake."
[4]Adapted with a free hand from Grimm's "White Snake."
It did not take Hans long to answer the king.
"If you please, your majesty," he said, "I should like best in all the world to go to see my mother; to have a horse on which to ride upon my journey; and to taste the food that lies hidden in the silver dish that comes each day to your majesty's table."
And when the king heard this he made haste to sendfor the silver dish and lifting the lid with his own hand he bade Hans taste of the food inside. What this food was, neither I nor anybody else can tell you, but no sooner had Hans tasted it than he understood what everything in the world was saying, from the birds in the tree-tops to the hens in the king's poultry yard.
"Good-bye, Hans," they called as Hans mounted the horse which the king gave him and rode away through the gate.
"Good-bye," said Hans, and he cantered off in fine style down the king's highway.
Before he had ridden far, however, he heard such a moaning and complaining by the roadside that he stopped his horse to see what the matter was; and—do you believe it?—it was the ant people whose ant-hill stood in the way, right where Hans was about to ride.
"See, see!" they cried, running to and fro in great alarm. "This giant of a man on his terrible horse will ride over our new house and crush us to death."
"Not I," said Hans. "If so much as one of you gets under my horse's hoofs it will be your fault and not mine;" and getting down from his horse he led him around the ant-hill and into the road on the other side.
"One good turn deserves another," cried the ant people running to and fro in great joy. "You have helped us, and we will help you some day;" and they were still saying this when Hans mounted his horse and rode away.
Now before long Hans came to a great forest and as he rode under the spreading branches of the trees he heard a cry for help in the woods.
"What can this be?" said Hans; but the very next minute he saw two young birds lying beneath a tree, beating their wings upon the ground and crying aloud:
"Alas! Alas! Who will put us into the nest again?"
"I, the king's servant and my mother's son; I will put you into the nest again," said Hans, and he was as good as his word.
"One good turn deserves another," called the birds when they were safe in their nest once more. "You have helped us, and we will help you some day."
Hans laughed to hear them, for though it was easy for him to help them he could not think what they might do for him.
Trot, trot, and gallop, gallop he rode through the forest till he came to a stream of water beside which lay three panting fishes.
"We shall surely die unless we can get into the water," they cried.
Their breath was almost gone and their voices were no louder than the faintest whisper, but Hans understood every word that they said; and he jumped from his horse and threw them into the stream.
"One good turn deserves another," they cried asthey swam merrily away. "You have helped us, and we will help you some day."
Now it so happened that Hans came by and by to the land of a very wicked king who broke his promises as easily as if they were made of spun glass and who never thought of anybody but himself.
No sooner had Hans come into the land than the king stopped him and would not let him go on.
"No one shall pass through my kingdom," he said, "till he has done one piece of work for me."
Hans was not afraid of work. "Show it to me that I may do it at once," he said; "for I am hastening to see my mother."
Then the king took Hans into a room as large as a meadow where some of all the seeds in the world was stored. There were lettuce-seeds, and radish-seeds, flax-seeds and grains of rice, fine seeds of flowers and small seeds of grass, all mixed and mingled till no two alike lay together.
Hans had never seen so many seeds in all his life before; and when he had looked at them the king bade him sort them, each kind to itself.
"The lettuce-seed must be here, and the radish-seed there; the flax-seed in this corner and the grains of rice in another; the fine seeds of flowers must be in their place, and the small seeds of grass all ready for planting before you can pass through my kingdom and go on your way," he said; and when he had spoken he went out of the room and locked the door behind him.
Poor Hans! He sat down on the floor and cried—the tears rolled down his cheeks I do assure you—for he said to himself:
"If I live to be a hundred years old I can never do this thing that the king requires. I shall never see my mother or the good king, my master, again."
How long he sat there, neither I nor anybody else can tell you, but by and by he saw a little black antcreeping in through a crack in the floor. Behind it came another and another, like soldiers marching; one by one they came, till the whole floor was black with hundreds and hundreds of the ant people.
"You helped us, and we have come to help you," they said; and they set to work at once to sort the seed as the king required.
By the next day when the king came in to inquire how Hans was getting on, the work was done. The lettuce-seed was here and the radish-seed was there, the flax-seed in one corner, and the grains of rice in another; the fine seeds of flowers were in their place and the small seeds of grass were all ready for planting.
The king was astonished. He could scarcely believe his eyes; but he would not let Hans go.
"Such a fine workman must do one other piece of work before he passes through my kingdom," he said; and he took Hans out in the open country and pointed to an orchard far away.
"Bring me one golden apple that grows in that orchard and you shall go free," he said.
"Ah, what an easy task is this," said Hans, and he set off at once to the orchard.
But, alack, when he had come to the orchard gate it was guarded by a fiery dragon, the like of which he had never seen in all his life! "Come and be devoured!" it cried, as Hans came into sight.
Poor Hans! He sat down by the roadside and held his head between his hands and cried—the tears rolled down his cheeks I do assure you—for he said to himself:
"If I go into the orchard I shall be eaten alive by the dragon, and if I do not go I shall never see my mother or the good king, my master, again."
How long he sat there, neither I nor anybody else can tell you, but by and by he saw two birds flying through the air. Nearer and nearer they came till at last they reached the spot where Hans sat and lightedat his feet. And they were the very birds that Hans had helped. Their wings had grown strong enough by this time to carry them wherever they wanted to go and they flapped them joyfully as they cried:
"One good turn deserves another. You helped us, and we have come to help you."
It was no trouble for them to fly into the orchard high above the dragon's head; and almost before Hans knew they were gone they were back again bringing with them the golden apple that the king desired.
He was astonished when Hans took it to him. He could scarcely believe his eyes; but he would not let Hans go.
Instead he took a ring from his finger and threw it to the very bottom of the sea.
"Go and fetch me that ring," he said, "and you shall be free as the birds and the bees; but until it is upon my finger again you shall not pass through my kingdom."
Poor Hans! He sat down on the seashore and cried—the tears rolled down his cheeks I do assure you—for he said to himself:
"Who can do a task like this? I must either drown or stay here all the days of my life. I shall never see my mother or the good king, my master, again."
ONE OF THEM TOOK IT IN HIS MOUTH, AND SO BROUGHT IT SAFELY TO HANS.ONE OF THEM TOOK IT IN HIS MOUTH, AND SO BROUGHT IT SAFELY TO HANS.
How long he sat there, neither I nor anybody else can tell you, but by and by three little fishes came swimming to the shore.
"One good turn deserves another," they called, for they were the very fish that Hans had thrown into the stream. "You helped us, and we have come to help you."
Then down they went to the very bottom of the sea where the king's ring lay. One of them took it in his mouth and so brought it safely to Hans who ran with it to the king.
And when the king saw the ring he knew thathe must let Hans go; he did not dare to keep him any longer.
So Hans mounted his horse and rode joyfully to his mother's home where he stayed till the time came when he must return to the good king, his master, which he did by another road.
He worked well and was happy serving his master faithfully, and making friends with birds and beasts, all the days of his life; but never again did he go to the wicked king's country. And I for one think he showed his good sense by that.
O
nce upon a time the tailor of Wraye and the tinker of Wraye went to the king's fair together; and when they had seen all the sights that were there they started home together well pleased with their day's outing.
The sun was going down when they left the fair and when they came to the Enchanted Wood through which they had to pass the moon was rising over the hill. And a fine full moon it was, so bright that the night was almost as light as day.
"There are some people who would not venture in this wood at night even when the moon is shining," said the tinker; "but as for me I do not know what fear is."
"Nor I," said the tailor. "I would that every one had as stout a heart as mine."
And it was just then that Grandmother Grey's old white sheep that had wandered into the wood that eve came plodding through the bushes.
"Goodness me! What is that?" said the tinker clutching his companion's arm.
"A bear!" cried the tailor casting one frightened glance toward the bushes. "A great white bear! Run, run for your life."
And run they did! The tailor was small and the tinker was tall, but it was a close race between them, up hill and down hill, and into the town.
"A bear, a great white bear!" they called as they ran; and everybody they met took up the cry: "A bear, a bear!" till the whole town was roused.
The mayor and his wife, the shoemaker and his daughter, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker, the blacksmith and the miller's son—indeed,to make a long story short, everybody who was awake in the town of Wraye—came hurrying out of their houses to hear what the matter was. There was soon as large a crowd as went to church on Sunday gathered about the two friends; and the tailor and the tinker talked as fast as they had run, to tell their thrilling tale.
"A BEAR!" CRIED THE TAILOR."A BEAR!" CRIED THE TAILOR.
"We were just coming through the wood," said the tailor, "when there, as close to us as the shoemaker is to the blacksmith, we saw——"
"A terrible creature," interrupted the tinker. "'Tis as large as a calf, I assure you——"
"And white as the mayor's shirt," cried the tailor. "It is a marvel that we escaped and if it had not been that I——"
"I saw it first," said the tinker; "but I stood my ground. I did not run till the tailor did."
The two would have been willing to talk till morning had not all the others determined to go to the wood at once and kill the bear.
"I cannot answer for the safety of the town till it is done," said the mayor; so every one ran for a weapon as fast as his feet could carry him.
The mayor brought his long sword that the king had given him, and the carpenter a hatchet, the blacksmith took his hammer, and the miller's son a gun; and the rest of the men whatever they could put their hands on.
The women went, too, with mops and brooms to drive the bear away should he run toward the town; and one little boy who had waked up in the stir followed after them with stones in his hands.
They very soon came to the wood, and then the question was who should go first.
"Let the tinker and the tailor lead the way," said the mayor, "and we will come close after."
"Oh, no, if you please, your honor," said the tinker and the tailor speaking at the very same time. "That will never do. We cannot think of going before you."
"I will go first if the mayor will lend me his sword," said the shoemaker.
"Aye, aye, let the shoemaker go," cried some.
"No, no, 'tis the mayor's place. The king gave the sword to him," said others.
"I could kill the bear while you are talking about it," said the miller's son.
Every one had something to say, but at last it was all settled and the miller's son with the mayor's sword by his side and his own gun in his hand was just slipping into the wood when out walked the old white sheep!
"Baa, baa," she cried, as if to ask, "Pray tell me what the stir's about. Baa, baa!"
"A sheep, a sheep, a great white sheep!" cried the miller's son; and then how the people of Wraye did laugh!
They laughed and they laughed and they laughed, so loud and so long that their laughter was heard allthe way to the king's fair and set the people to laughing there.
But whether the tailor and the tinker laughed or not, I do not know.
O
ne day when all the world was gay with spring a king stood at a window of his palace and looked far out over his kingdom. And because his land was fair to see, and he was a young king, and his heart was happy, he made a song for himself and sang it loud and merrily:
"The hawthorn's white, the sun is bright,And blue the cloudless sky;And not a bird that sings in springIs happier than I, than I,Is happier than I."
"The hawthorn's white, the sun is bright,And blue the cloudless sky;And not a bird that sings in springIs happier than I, than I,Is happier than I."
Now it chanced that a ploughboy at work in a field hard by the palace heard the king's song and caught the words and the air of it.
He was young and happy and as he followed his plough across the dewy field, and thought of the corn that would grow, by and by, in the furrows it made,and of his little black and white pig that would feed and grow fat on the corn, he sang:
"The hawthorn's white, the sun is bright,And blue the cloudless sky;And not a bird that sings in springIs happier than I, than I,Is happier than I."
"The hawthorn's white, the sun is bright,And blue the cloudless sky;And not a bird that sings in springIs happier than I, than I,Is happier than I."
"A right merry song, Robin Ploughboy," called the goose-girl who tended the farmer's geese in the next field; and she leaned on the fence that divided the two, and sang with him, for she was as happy a lass as ever lived in the king's country.
The farmer's wife had given her a goose for her very own that day, and the goose had made a nest in the alder bushes. There was already one egg in it and soon there would be more. Then she would send them to market; and when they were sold she would buy a ribbon for her hair. It was no wonder that she felt like singing:
"The hawthorn's white, the sun is bright,And blue the cloudless sky;And not a bird that sings in springIs happier than I, than I,Is happier than I."
"The hawthorn's white, the sun is bright,And blue the cloudless sky;And not a bird that sings in springIs happier than I, than I,Is happier than I."
SHE LEANED ON THE FENCE THAT DIVIDED THE TWO.SHE LEANED ON THE FENCE THAT DIVIDED THE TWO.
The chapman,[5]from whom she bought her ribbon in all good time, learned the king's song from her; and as he trudged along the king's highway with his pack upon his back he, too, sang it; for there is no better weather for peddling or singing, either, than that which comes in the spring.