no,’ said the lad.
When they had gone thus for a long, long way, the Foal again asked:
‘Dost thou see anything now?’
‘Yes, now I see something that is white,’ said Cinderlad. ‘It looks like the trunk of a great thick birch tree.’
‘Yes, that is where we are to go in,’ said the Foal.
When they got to the trunk, the eldest foal broke it down on one side, and then they saw a door where the trunk had been standing, and inside this there was a small room, and in the room there was scarcely anything but a small fire-place and a couple of benches, but behind the door hung a great rusty sword and a small pitcher.
‘Canst thou wield that sword?’ asked the Foal.
Cinderlad tried, but could not do it; so he had to take a draught from the pitcher, and then one more, and after that still another, and then he was able to wield the sword with perfect ease.
‘Good,’ said the Foal; ‘and now thou must take the sword away with thee, and with it shalt thou cut off the heads of all seven of us on thy wedding-day, and then we shall become princes again as we were before. For we are brothers of the Princess whom thou art to have when thou canst tell the King what we eat and drink, but there is a mighty Troll who has cast a spell over us. When thou hast cut off our heads, thou must take the greatest care to lay each head at the tail of the body to which it belonged before, and then the spell which the Troll has cast upon us will lose all its power.’
Cinderlad promised to do this, and then they went on farther.
When they had travelled a long, long way, the Foal said:
‘Dost thou see anything?’
‘No,’ said Cinderlad.
So they went on a great distance farther.
‘And now?’ inquired the Foal, ‘seest thou nothing now?’
‘Alas! no,’ said Cinderlad.
So they travelled onwards again, for many and many a mile, over hill and dale.
‘Now, then,’ said the Foal, ‘dost thou not see anything now?’
‘Yes,’ said Cinderlad; ‘now I see something like a bluish streak, far, far away.’
‘That is a river,’ said the Foal, ‘and we have to cross it.’
There was a long, handsome bridge over the river, and when they had got to the other side of it they again travelled on a long, long way, and then once more the Foal inquired if Cinderlad saw anything. Yes, this time he saw something that looked black, far, far away, and was rather like a church tower.
‘Yes,’ said the Foal, ‘we shall go into that.’
When the Foals got into the churchyard they turned into men and looked like the sons of a king, and their clothes were so magnificent that they shone with splendour, and they went into the church and received bread and wine from the priest, who was standing before the altar, and Cinderlad went in too. But when the priest had laid his hands on the princes and read the blessing, they went out of the church again, and Cinderlad went out too, but he took with him a flask of wine and some consecrated bread. No sooner had the seven princes come out into the churchyard than they became foals again, and Cinderlad got upon the back of the youngest, and they returned by the way they had come, only they went much, much faster.
First they went over the bridge, and then past the trunk of the birch tree, and then past the old hag who sat in the cleft of the rock spinning, and they went by so fast that Cinderlad could not hear what the old hag screeched after him, but just heard enough to understand that she was terribly enraged.
It was all but dark when they got back to the King at nightfall, and he himself was standing in the courtyard waiting for them.
‘Hast thou watched well and faithfully the whole day?’ said the King to Cinderlad.
‘I have done my best,’ replied Cinderlad.
‘Then thou canst tell me what my seven foals eat and drink?’ asked the King.
So Cinderlad pulled out the consecrated bread and the flask of wine, and showed them to the King. ‘Here may you behold their meat, and here their drink,’ said he.
‘Yes, diligently and faithfully hast thou watched,’ said the King, ‘and thou shalt have the Princess and half the kingdom.’
So all was made ready for the wedding, and the King said that it was to be so stately and magnificent that everyone should hear of it, and everyone inquire about it.
But when they sat down to the marriage-feast, the bridegroom arose and went down to the stable, for he said that he had forgotten something which he must go and look to. When he got there, he did what the foals had bidden him, and cut off the heads of all the seven. First the eldest, and then the second, and so on according to their age, and he was extremely careful to lay each head at the tail of the foal to which it had belonged, and when that was done, all the foals became princes again. When he returned to the marriage-feast with the seven princes, the King was so joyful that he both kissed Cinderlad and clapped him on the back, and his bride was still more delighted with him than she had been before.
‘Half my kingdom is thine already,’ said the King, ‘and the other half shall be thine after my death, for my sons can get countries and kingdoms for themselves now that they have become princes again.’
Therefore, as all may well believe, there was joy and merriment at that wedding.31
31. From J. Moe.
THE MARVELLOUS MUSICIAN
There was once upon a time a marvellous musician. One day he was wandering through a wood all by himself, thinking now of one thing, now of another, till there was nothing else left to think about. Then he said to himself:
‘Time hangs very heavily on my hands when I’m all alone in the wood. I must try and find a pleasant companion.’
So he took his fiddle out, and fiddled till he woke the echoes round. After a time a wolf came through the thicket and trotted up to the musician.
‘Oh! it’s a Wolf, is it?’ said he. ‘I’ve not the smallest wish for his society.’
But the Wolf approached him and said:
‘Oh, my dear musician, how beautifully you play! I wish you’d teach me how it’s done.’
‘That’s easily learned,’ answered the fiddler; ‘you must only do exactly as I tell you.’
‘Of course I will,’ replied the Wolf. ‘I
