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 https://archive.org/details/populartalesfict01clou 
 

 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS 
 
POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS 
 
 THEIR 
 
 MIGEATIONS AND TEANSFOEMATIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 W. A. CLOUSTON 
 
 EDITOR OF ‘ ARABIAN POETRY FOR ENGLISH READERS ; " 
 
 ‘bakhtyar nama;’ ‘the book of sindibAd,’ etc. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AKD SONS 
 EDINBUEGH AND LONDON 
 MDCCCLXXXVII 
 
 All Rights reserved 
 
2 _ 
 
 Tales have wings, whether they come from the East or from 
 the North, and they soon become denizens wherever they alight. 
 Thus it has happened, that the tale which charmed the wandering 
 Arab in his tent, or cheered the Northern peasant by his winter’s 
 fireside, alike held on its journey to England and Scotland. — 
 Isaac D’Israeli. 
 
TO 
 
 SIE EICHAED F. BUETON, K.C.M.G., 
 
 THE EMINENT SCHOLAR AND WORLD-WIDE 
 TRAVELLER ; WHOSE NOTES TO HIS 
 COMPLETE TRANSLATION OF 
 ^ THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT ’ 
 ARE AMPLE EVIDENCE OF HIS 
 INTEREST IN, AND KNOWLEDGE OF, THE 
 GENEALOGY OF POPULAR TALES; 
 
 STfjese Uolumes are lielitcateti 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 
/ 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 rpHE following papers are designed as a contribution 
 to the history of European popular tales, the 
 study of which — and it is both instructive and fasci- 
 nating — has been, until within comparatively recent 
 years, much neglected in this country, though its im- 
 portance has long been recognised by eminent Con- 
 tinental scholars, the value of whose researches it 
 would not be easy to overrate. The illustrations of 
 the pedigree and modifications of our popular fictions 
 adduced in these volumes are the result of many 
 years’ special as well as promiscuous reading, but, no 
 doubt, they are in some instances very far from being 
 exhaustive : it is little, after all, that a single labourer 
 can accomplish in exploring so vast a field. I ven- 
 ture to think, however, that the papers will prove 
 both useful to English students of comparative folk- 
 lore and folk - tales and interesting to intelligent 
 readers generally. 
 
Vlll 
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 So far as I am aware, there is no work precisely 
 similar to this in our country, in which variants of 
 the same general stories are detailed — not merely 
 indicated by their titles — thus enabling the reader 
 to judge for himself of their common origin, and the 
 transformations they have undergone in passing from 
 one country to another, without the labour of consult- 
 ing a great many different books, some of which are 
 not readily accessible. Dunlop’s ‘ History of Fiction,’ 
 though a remarkable work of research, was, even on 
 its first publication, considered as very incomplete ; 
 and since, then — indeed chiefly of late years — much 
 light has been thrown upon the genealogy of our 
 household tales, by the publication of such as are 
 orally current in the different countries of Europe, as 
 well as by the discovery of ancient Indian story- 
 books and still older Buddhist collections, which has 
 made it now somewhat out of date. An English 
 rendering of Dr Liebrecht’s notes to his German 
 translation of Dunlop’s work is much to be desired. 
 
 Keightley’s little book, entitled ' Tales and Popular 
 Fictions,’ together with some able articles on the same 
 subject which appeared in the ‘ Quarterly ’ and the 
 'Foreign Quarterly’ Eeviews shortly before it was 
 published (about fifty years ago), must have helped to 
 promote a more wide-spread interest in the' question 
 
PKEFACE. 
 
 IX 
 
 of the origin and diffusion of folk-tales ; and the 
 writers deserve all praise for having made the most of 
 the materials within their reach. Those materials 
 were, however, very scanty in comparison with the 
 great mass that has since accumulated, by means of 
 which the storiologist is enabled to “ survey folk-tales 
 from China to Peru.” Not only have several of the 
 oldest and most important Asiatic story-books been 
 translated into English and other European languages, 
 but oral tales and legends have been “ taken down 
 from the mouths of the people” in several parts of 
 India ; in the Panjab and Kashmir, by Mrs Steel and 
 Captain E. C. Temple ; in Bengal, by Mr C. H. Damant 
 and Eev. Lai Behari Day; in Southern India, by 
 Pandit S. M. Nat&a Sastri. 
 
 Such a task as tracing through a great number of 
 versions, or variants, the favourite story of Aladdin 
 and his Lamp (in the first volume of this work — and 
 a Buddhist version will be found in the Appendix) ; 
 the Egyptian legend of the Eobbery of the King’s 
 Treasury; the Irish legend of Little Eairly ; the 
 tale of the Lady and her Suitors ; the story of the 
 Three Knights and the Lady, and that of the Three 
 Hunchbacks ; and Chaucer’s Pardoner’s Tale ” (in the 
 second volume) — was quite impossible in the time 
 of Keightley, not to mention Dunlop. Of those two 
 
X 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 writers the former seems to have been as diffident of 
 expressing an opinion regarding the probable extraction 
 of a tale as the latter was unhesitating; the conse- 
 quence of which is that neither is a safe guide to the 
 young student of the history of popular fictions : 
 Keightley being on the whole calculated to induce 
 false theories of their transmission — in fact, he often 
 X appears to favour the absurd notion of their indepen- 
 dent invention ; while Dunlop, in his ignorance of the 
 X dates and sources of such Eastern story-books as he 
 knew from translations, is very misleading, ascribing 
 the originals of certain tales to works which are by 
 no means either ancient or original.” Dunlop is 
 perhaps to be trusted in his accounts of the romances 
 of chivalry and the early Italian novels, but when he 
 states their sources he is to be received with caution. 
 Nevertheless, both Dunlop's book and that of Keightley 
 (and the ‘ Fairy Mythology ' of the latter may be in- 
 cluded) are good pieces of work : a man cannot tell 
 more than he knows or than is known at the time of 
 his writing: and they can hardly fail of instructing 
 the reader, and also of inciting him to pursue similar 
 researches for himself. With greatly superior advan- 
 tages in these days, when the results of the investiga- 
 tions of many learned and laborious scholars have been 
 published, the present volumes are designed, not to 
 bolster up any pet theory regarding the transmission 
 
PKEFACE. 
 
 XI 
 
 of popular tales, but to supply materials from which 
 those interested in the question may draw their own 
 conclusions, as well as to furnish a collection of enter- 
 taining stories. 
 
 I may mention that a goodly number of the tales 
 cited in this work appear in English for the first time, 
 while by far the greater portion will probably be quite 
 new to the ordinary reader. Some ''discoveries’’ I 
 believe I have made in the course of my researches : 
 links which were wanted to unite European stories with 
 their Asiatic originals or prototypes ; and, occasionally, 
 hitherto unknown sources, or at least Eastern vari- 
 ants, of our household tales. In a work such as this 
 errors both of omission and commission are unavoid- 
 able; so frequently is one story found to run into 
 another, with which it had originally no connection, 
 that it is exceedingly difficult to " pigeon-hole ” all 
 semi-analogous incidents for the purpose of their being 
 cited in their proper places. The tabulation, or classi- 
 fication, of folk-tales formed no part of my plan ; that 
 is being done by members of the Folk-Lore Society, 
 and may be safely left in their able hands. 
 
 There are perhaps still some amongst us who 
 think — and not so very long since they were in 
 a small minority who thought otherwise — that our 
 
Xll 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 nursery and popular tales are utterly unworthy of 
 consideration by ''sensible, practical” men. But it 
 has been well remarked that "any kind of writing, 
 how trifling soever, that obtains general currency, and 
 especially that early preoccupies the imagination of 
 the youth of both sexes, must demand particular 
 attention: its influence is likely to be considerable 
 both on the morals and the taste of a nation.” Sir 
 John Malcolm’s observation on the same subject is to 
 the like effect : " He who desires to be well acquainted 
 with a people will not reject their popular stories and 
 superstitions.” And I may add that a comparative 
 study of folk -tales, apart from its great linguistic 
 value, is calculated to enlarge the mind, and when 
 assiduously prosecuted, broaden our sympathies, and 
 enable us to recognise, more fully, perhaps, than could 
 anything else, the universal brotherhood of mankind. 
 
 My task, if arduous, has been a most pleasant one 
 — in truth, a labour of love; and I must not con- 
 clude these prefatory remarks without gratefully 
 acknowledging my obligations to Dr Eeinhold Eost, 
 for the loan of scarce books from the Library of the 
 India Office and important suggestions; to Mr F. 
 F. Arbuthnot — author of 'Early Ideas: a Group of 
 Hindoo Stories ’ — for the use of unpublished transla- 
 tions of Indian story-books; and to my learned and 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Xlll 
 
 amiable friend Dr David Eoss, Principal of the E. C. 
 Training College, Glasgow, for much valuable assist- 
 ance. I am also greatly indebted to the courtesy of 
 Mr E. B. Nicholson, of the Bodleian Library, Oxford ; 
 to Mr E. T. Barrett, of the Mitchell Public Library, 
 Glasgow; and especially to Mr James Lymburn, of 
 the Glasgow University Library, who cheerfully 
 helped me in my researches at that rich literary 
 treasury. 
 
 W. A. C. 
 
 Novemher^ 1886. 
 
CONTENTS OF THE EIEST YOLUME. 
 
 INTRODUCTION ...... 1 
 
 Origin and diffusion of popular tales ; “ solar myth.” 
 theory, 1-5 — introduction of Oriental fictions into 
 Europe : the ‘ Disciplina Clericalis ’ ; ^ Fables of 
 Bidpai ’ ; ‘ Syntipas ’ ; ^ Seven Wise Masters ’ ; ^ Do- 
 lopathos,’ 5-11 — Mediaeval Sermon -Books and 
 Stories: the ‘Sermones’ of Jacques de Vitry; the 
 ^ Liber de Donis ’ of Etienne de Bourbon ; the ‘ Gesta 
 Eomanorum,’ 11-13 — Tales : the True Heir, 14-16 ; 
 the Old Man and his Two Wives, 16 ; the Poor 
 Poet ill and well clothed, 17 ; the Innkeeper who 
 spilled his customers’ wine, 18-20 ; Parnell’s ‘ Her- 
 mit,’ 20-28 ; Sancho’s decision in the case of the 
 woman and the young man, 28-29 ; the Widow who 
 was comforted, 29-35 ; the Nun who tore out her 
 eyes, 35-36 — Spread of Buddhist tales and apologues, 
 
 36 — Classical Tales in the Talmud, etc., 36-39 — 
 Chivalric Eomances, Asiatic and European, 39-50 — 
 World- wide Jests : the Impudent Letter-reader, 50 ; 
 
 Scot and Sot,” 51 ; the One-legged Fowl, 51 ; a 
 Strange Animal, 52 ; the One-eyed Husband, 53-55 ; 
 Killing a Fly, 55-57 ; “ Small of its Age,” 58 ; Weigh- 
 ing Smoke, 59 ; Laird Braco and his “ siller,” 59 ; 
 Hanged for stealing a Bridle, 60 ; Decisions of sapi- 
 ent judges, 61-64 — Was Egypt the cradle-land of 
 civilisation? 66-68. 
 
 Note : The Arabian Eomance of Antar 
 
 68 
 
XVI 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS : SHOES OF SWIFTNESS .* 
 
 INEXHAUSTIBLE PURSE, ETC. . . . .72 
 
 GOLD-PRODUCING ANIMALS . . . .123 
 
 ADVENTURES WITH GIANTS, TROLLS, GHULS, ETC. . 133 
 
 DRAGONS AND MONSTROUS BIRDS . . . .155 
 
 PETRIFYING VICTIMS : LIFE-TOKENS : TESTS OF CHASTITY 168 
 BIRD-MAIDENS . . . . . . . 182 
 
 SUBAQUEOUS FAIRY HALLS : FORBIDDEN ROOMS : ^ CUPID 
 
 AND psyche’ LEGENDS . . . .192 
 
 FAIRY HINDS : MAGIC BARKS . . . .215 
 
 THE THANKFUL BEASTS : SECRETS LEARNED FROM BIRDS 223 
 THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN . . . 249 
 
 THE UNGRATEFUL SERPENT .... 
 
 THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE . . . . 266 
 
 Note: Origin of Fables .... 274 
 
 THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS . . . .277 
 
 CUMULATIVE STORIES ..... 289 
 
 Aladdin’s wonderful lamp . . . .314 
 
 Note : Life depending on some Extraneous Object 347 
 
 THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES . . . 352 
 
 THE ENCHANTED HORSE ..... 373 
 
 THE DEMON ENCLOSED IN A BOTTLE : CONTRACTS WITH 
 
 THE EVIL ONE, ETC. . . . .381 
 
 “ THE RING AND THE FISH ” LEGENDS : MEN LIVING 
 
 INSIDE MONSTROUS FISH .... 398 
 
 Note: Luminous Jewels .... 412 
 
 MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS . . . .413 
 
CONTENTS. XVii 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. THE INEXHAUSTIBLE PURSE, ETC. — 
 
 Tamil Version ..... 461 
 
 II. ‘who eats my heart,’ etc. — 
 
 Tamil Version . . . . . 462 
 
 III. THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN — 
 
 Sinhalese Variant ..... 464 
 
 IV. ENCOUNTERS WITH OGRES, ETC. — 
 
 Bengali Version ..... 466 
 
 V. ‘CUPID AND psyche’ LEGENDS — 
 
 Bengali Analogue ..... 469 
 
 VI. Aladdin’s wonderful lamp — 
 
 Another Arabian Variant . . . .470 
 
 Burmese (Buddhist) Version . . .476 
 
 VII. THE magical CONFLICT — 
 
 Turkish Version ..... 482 
 

 -I 
 
POPULAR TALES AND PICTIONS. 
 
 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 SOLOMON’S oft-quoted dictum that ‘'there is no- 
 ^ thing new under the sun ” may be safely applied 
 to the popular tales and fictions of Europe ; indeed, as 
 an able writer has remarked, “ to invent what has not 
 been invented before may be no less difficult than it 
 was, in Mr Shandy’s opinion, to curse out of the com- 
 prehensive digest of Ernulphus.” By far the greater 
 number of the apologues and stories which are common 
 to all Europe have been current in Asia from a very 
 remote period; and it is certainly one of the most inter- 
 esting chapters of the history of the human mind to 
 trace those fictions, which furnished instruction as well 
 as amusement to our simple ancestors, through their 
 various forms, to ancient if not always to their primitive 
 sources. Their independent invention and development, 
 by persons living in countries and in times far apart, is, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 A 
 
2 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 as Sir George Cox justly observes, ‘‘ what no reasonable 
 man could have the hardihood to maintain.” 
 
 The question of their origin and diffusion has for 
 more than half a century specially engaged the ener- 
 gies of distinguished European scholars, but there still 
 exists very considerable diversity of opinion on the 
 subject. In Germany, such eminent savans as Ben- 
 fey, Godeke, Kohler, Koldeke, and Liebrecht maintain 
 that our popular tales, which are current from Norway 
 to Spain, from Italy to the West Highlands of Scot- 
 land, are simply secondary forms of Oriental originals, 
 which were imported from Asia in different ways : for 
 the south of Europe this was done through the Turks ; 
 for the north, by the Mongolians during their two hun- 
 dred years of supremacy. In England, it is contended 
 by Dasent, Baring-Gould, Cox, and other scholars, that 
 they are survivals of primitive myths and legends, the 
 common heritage of the whole Aryan race, and came to 
 Europe with the tribes when they migrated westwards 
 and northwards, at some very remote period — just as 
 the languages of Europe are Aryan. 
 
 The ''solar myth” theory is carried by some of 
 our comparative mythologists the verge of absur- 
 dity. Eor example, a writer in the ' Westminster 
 Eeview,’ in an article on Mr Swynnerton’s 'Adven- 
 tures of the Panjab hero, Eaja Easalu,’ asserts that 
 " no one at all acquainted with the science of compara- 
 tive mythology can for a moment doubt ” that King 
 Easalu is a solar myth. Thus, as the sun in his course 
 rests not in toiling and travelling, so Easalii’s destiny 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 3 
 
 forbade him to tarry in one place. And as the sun, 
 after a battle, however tremendous, with the elements, 
 shines forth clear and victorious, so Easalu, after a 
 series of magical thunderbolts hurled at him by the 
 giants, is found, shortly after, calm and undaunted. 
 Hence Easalu is considered as merely another form 
 of the fables of Indra, Savitar, Woden, Sisyphus, Her- 
 cules, Samson, Apollo, Theseus, Sigwid, Arthur, Tris- 
 tram, and a host of other heroes, with one or other of 
 whom every country, civilised and uncivilised, is fami- 
 liar. These and similar fanciful analogies are, accord- 
 ing to an acute Anglo-Indian scholar, simply imag- 
 ination running riot : and '' if comparative mythology 
 is a science at all, it must at least show that its asser- 
 tions are capable of proof. Is there,” he asks, “ a 
 shadow of a proof, properly so called, of any of these 
 statements ? Can the history of the stories [of 
 Easalu] as told at the present day be carried back, 
 step by step, to the solar myth and its development 
 into ordinary folk-lore ? Has anything regarding Ea- 
 salu been yet discovered which will give even a hint of 
 such development ? What if it can be shown that the 
 stories our scientific comparative mythologist has thus 
 strung together form merely a part of the stories told 
 of the so-called solar hero, and that the same stories are 
 not told of him in different localities, and that all those 
 he has put into one category to suit his theory are not 
 told in any one locality ? What if it can be shown 
 that some of the stories are the common property of 
 every Indian village, and are told singly, in many a 
 
4 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 variant form, from Kashmir to Bombay ? What if it 
 can be shown that there is many another story of 
 Easalii, which the liveliest imagination could not twist 
 into the battle of the elements, or the action of the 
 sun, or moon, or dawn, or any other natural phenome- 
 non that might occur to it, and that we have absolutely 
 no reason for not receiving them as genuine tales 
 about Easalii, if we receive as such those quoted [by 
 the reviewer] ? ’’ The ordinary mythologist, the same 
 writer adds, lets his imagination loose to follow its 
 own way, and, presto ! the thing is done and his point 
 is proved. The hero beats his enemies — which, by the 
 way, he usually does in a story — and it is the sun 
 conquering the storm-clouds ! He has one adventure 
 after another, and it is the sun running his course 
 across the sky. He is mortally wounded, and gets 
 over it, perhaps miraculously, and it is the sun setting 
 and rising. He has a long white beard, and it is the 
 winter clothing of the forest. He has twenty sons, all 
 minor heroes, and these are the lightning flashes. His 
 wife runs away with somebody else, on whom he wreaks 
 prompt vengeance, and it is the evening conquered by 
 the night, who, in turn, is slain by the returning sun. 
 What is simpler, and what more beautiful ? ' Ko one 
 
 at all acquainted with the science of comparative myth- 
 ology can for a moment doubt ’ any of these, especially 
 when they have been applied to story after story all the 
 world over with signal success. Granting the beauty, 
 the ingenuity, and the aptness of the ideas thus evolved, 
 there are still those fortunately who are not satisfled 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 5 
 
 with them, until it is proved, in the ordinary way, that 
 any particular hero is a solar myth.” ^ 
 
 That tales and legends of a more or less supernatural 
 cast, dealing with magical arts (and the phenomena of 
 physical nature, too, perhaps), in other words, our 
 nursery fairy tales, which are found in almost identical 
 forms, allowing for occasional local modifications and 
 colouring, among peoples differing so much in their 
 customs and modes of thought as the Norwegians and 
 the Italians, are reflections or survivals of primitive 
 Aryan traditions, which also continue current in 
 Asiatic countries, may, I think, be to some extent 
 granted. But the case is very different when we 
 consider the question of the origin and diffusion of 
 tales which have in them nothing of the supernatural 
 — tales, namely, of common life. If we admit the 
 theory as well founded that our fairy tales were, for 
 the most part, brought to Europe when our remote 
 ancestors, during the “ childhood of the world,” mi- 
 grated from their Asian homes, most assuredly the 
 storehouse of European folk-lore and folk -tales was 
 largely augmented otherwise in more recent times. 
 
 Thanks to the assiduity of modern scholars, the 
 proofs of the Asiatic origin of a very great number 
 of our popular tales and fictions are abundant and 
 conclusive. “ The evidence adduced,” says Dr H. H. 
 Wilson, ‘'has been of the most positive description. 
 It is not built upon probabilities, upon general and 
 
 ^ “ Legends of Kajd Ras^lu.” By Captain R. C. Temple. — ‘ Calcutta 
 Review,’ 1884. 
 
6 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 indefinite analogies, or on partial and accidental re- 
 semblances, but upon actual identities. Although 
 modifications have been practised, names altered, 
 scenes changed, circumstances added or omitted, we 
 can still discern the sameness of the fundamental out- 
 line, and amidst all the multiplications of masquerade, 
 lay our hands, without hesitation, upon the authentic 
 individual. We can also, in many instances, follow 
 the steps of the migration which the narratives have 
 undergone, and determine when, and by what means, 
 these Asiatic adventurers were naturalised in the dif- 
 ferent countries of Europe in which they are found.’’ 
 
 It is not unusual for the first introduction of Asiatic 
 fictions into Europe to be ascribed to the vast hordes 
 of pilgrims and others who flocked to the East during 
 the Crusades, and doubtless they helped considerably to 
 swell the stock. But the transmission had begun at a 
 much earlier date, and many apologues and narratives 
 of Eastern origin had found their way to Europe long 
 before Peter the Hermit and Walter the Penniless 
 were born. Erom the early ages of Christianity down 
 to the fifteenth century, the intercourse with the East, 
 through commerce, literature, religion, and war, '' was 
 much more intimate and frequent,” says Dr H. H. 
 Wilson, '‘than it has ever been since. The greater 
 proximity of Asia Minor to the countries of the south 
 of Europe,” he goes on to say, " was one especial cause 
 of the more intimate intercourse that subsisted between 
 them ; and the greater parity of civilisation — in which 
 indeed the Asiatics had rather the advantage — was 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 7 
 
 another. The political relations of the divisions of 
 the Eastern and Western Empire necessarily preserved 
 the provinces of either in a communication with each 
 other which could not speedily be forgotten ; and 
 although interrupted by the first violences of the 
 Muhammedan conquest, it was readily resumed when 
 the storm had passed, and the first Khalifs of the 
 house of Abbas encouraged the resort of merchants and 
 scholars, both from the east and the west, to Baghdad. 
 Upon their decline followed the Crusades, and the 
 interest which they attracted to the scene of their 
 achievements, and the numbers that, as soldiers, or 
 pilgrims, or traders, were constantly passing to and 
 fro, continued to preserve that interest from decay, and 
 were no doubt actively concerned in importing and 
 disseminating the lighter Oriental fictions of domestic 
 life as well as of chivalry and romance. . . . From the 
 period subsequent to the establishment of the Kliali- 
 fate, Europe received whatever literary articles were 
 imported from the East through the medium of the 
 Arabs. This did not imply that they were of Arab 
 manufacture exclusively. The subjugation of Persia 
 placed at the disposal of the Arabs whatever treasures 
 they chose to spare from the destruction to which the 
 mass was condemned ; and it is upon record that the 
 first Abbaside Khalifs, in the eighth and ninth cen- 
 turies, from Al-Mansur to Al-Mamiin, patronised in 
 an especial manner the natives of India, and that 
 Hindus of eminence in various branches of literature 
 and science flourished at their courts.” 
 
8 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Narratives of Indian, Persian, and Arabian origin 
 were no doubt chiefly introduced into Europe orally ; 
 but some came through translations from Eastern 
 books. Passing over the early spiritual romances, 
 such as Barlaam and Josaphat, which were largely 
 derived from Eastern, indeed Buddhist, sources, let us 
 take, for instance, a work which was written, if not 
 before the Crusades, certainly in the flrst years of the 
 twelfth century, namely, the ' Disciplina Clericalis ’ of 
 Peter Alfonsus, a Spanish Jew, who was baptised in 
 1106. This is a small collection of tales derived 
 partly from the Hebrew Talmud — at all events several 
 are found in that work, with which Alfonsus as a Jew 
 was probably familiar — and partly from the Arabian 
 fablers. To this work of Alfonsus the Trouveres, or 
 minstrels of Northern Prance, were indebted for the 
 groundwork of a number of their entertaining 
 though it is very probable that they themselves 
 brought from the East the substance of many of their 
 tales, which were afterwards adopted by the early 
 Italian novelists. A Greek translation of the cele- 
 brated Eables of Bidpai, or Pilpay, entitled ' Ichnelates 
 and Stephanites,’ was made by Symeon, son of Seth, 
 about the year 1080, from an Arabic version, 'Kalila 
 and Dimna,’ made from an old Persian translation of 
 the Sanskrit original, which is lost. (About the year 
 1250, Eabbi Joel translated the Arabic version into 
 Hebrew, from which John of Capua soon after com- 
 posed a Latin version, ' Directorium Humanae Vitae.’) 
 Next among translations from Eastern story-books 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 9 
 
 may be mentioned ' Syntipas/ a Greek rendering of a 
 Syriac version of the ‘Book of Sindibad/ the proto- 
 type of our ‘History of the Seven Wise Masters/ 
 made probably during the last decade of the eleventh 
 century. About the year 1184, what is thought to be 
 the first European version, or rather imitation, of the 
 ‘ Book of Sindibad ’ — soon followed by a host of others 
 — was composed, in Latin prose, by a monk named 
 Johannes of the Abbey of Alta Silva, in the French 
 diocese of Nancy, under the title of ‘Dolopathos; sive, 
 de Eege et Septem Sapientibus ’ (Dolopathos ; or, the 
 King and the Seven Sages). The frame, or leading 
 story, of this work corresponds with that of its Eastern 
 original, but it has only one of the subordinate tales, 
 though all of them are undoubtedly of Asiatic origin. 
 In the thirteenth century this Latin prose ‘Dolo- 
 pathos’ was rendered into French verse, under the 
 same title, by a Trouvere named Herbers ; and other 
 Latin and French prose versions of the ‘ Seven Wise 
 Masters’ were afterwards produced. Manuscripts of 
 more than one early English metrical text of this 
 widely popular romance are preserved in our great 
 libraries.^ 
 
 ^ The leading story of the ‘ Book of Sindibad,’ or the ‘ Seven W^ise 
 Masters,’ is briefly as follows : A young prince having resisted the 
 importunities of one of his father’s favourite women — his stepmother 
 in the European versions — like the wife of Potiphar with Joseph, she 
 accuses him to the king of having attempted her chastity. The king 
 condemns his son to death ; but the seven vazirs (or wise men) 
 of the king, believing the prince to be innocent, and knowing that he 
 is compelled by the threatening aspect of his horoscope to remain 
 silent for seven days, resolve to save him till the expiry of that period, 
 
10 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Thus, before the tide of Eastern fiction flowing into 
 Europe had begun to be swelled by the Crusaders and 
 pilgrims returning from the Holy Land, we see there 
 existed at least two works of Asiatic origin which were 
 not imported by oral tradition. But even in the case 
 of the tales comprised in these and similar books, their 
 dissemination among the people, as well as that of 
 hundreds of other tales, must have been mainly through 
 the pulpit, for the preachers in mediaeval times liber- 
 ally interspersed their sermons with stories, and not 
 always stories of the most edifying tendency. More- 
 over, monks and other churchmen were constantly 
 travelling about; and we may readily conceive that 
 a jolly friar, or clerk of Oxenford,” when he sought 
 and obtained a night’s lodging at the hospitable domi- 
 cile of some yeoman or simple rustic, would find he 
 was doubly welcome if he had good store of marvel- 
 lous, pathetic, and humorous tales to relate to those 
 assembled round his host’s cheerful fireside. By such 
 means stories, which had their birth in the Far East 
 more than two thousand years ago, spread into the 
 remotest nooks of Europe; and jests, which had long 
 
 by each in turn relating to the king stories showing the depravity of 
 women, and the danger of acting upon their unsupported assertions. 
 This they do accordingly, but the woman each night counteracts the 
 effect of their tales, by relating stories of the deceitful disposition of 
 men ; and so each day the king alternately condemns and reprieves his 
 son, until the end of the seventh day, when the prince is free to speak 
 again, and the woman’s guilt being discovered, she is duly punished. 
 A compendious account of the several Eastern versions of this romance . 
 is given in the Introduction to my editions (from the Arabic and Persian) 
 of the ‘ Book of Sindib^d,’ and in the Appendix, abstracts of an early 
 English text of the ‘ Seven Wise Masters ’ and the Latin ‘ Dolopathos.’ 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 11 
 
 shaken the shoulders and wagged the beards of grave 
 and otiose Orientals, became naturalised from cold 
 Sweden to sunny Italy. From oral tradition they 
 were absorbed into literature, wdience again they 
 returned to the people ; and after being, to all appear- 
 ance, lost in the revolutions and political turmoils 
 that followed the invention of printing, suddenly 
 ''turned up’’ again in the jest-books of the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries. 
 
 Much has been done of late years, especially by 
 Continental scholars, towards elucidating the genealogy 
 of popular tales, but more yet remains to be done in 
 this field of research, which is indeed 
 
 Exceeding rich, and long, and wide, 
 
 And sprinkled with a sweet variety 
 
 Of all that pleasant is to the ear or eye. 
 
 It is probable that fresh light would be thrown upon 
 the means through which Oriental fictions were dif- 
 fused over Europe, were more attention bestowed on 
 the examination of the monkish collections of ser- 
 mons and tales designed for the use of preachers. A 
 very promising beginning, for English readers, has been 
 made in this direction by Professor T. E. Crane, of 
 Cornell University, N.Y., who, in March 1883, read 
 before the American Philosophical Society a very 
 learned, elaborate, and interesting paper on " Medi- 
 aeval Sermon -Books and Stories,” which has been 
 reprinted from the ' Proceedings ’ of that Society. 
 The first to regularly employ in sermons exempla, or 
 
12 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 narratives to instruct the people, as well as to keep 
 up their attention when it was likely to flag, was 
 Jacques de Vitry, who died at Eome in the year 1240. 
 This eminent prelate and scholar took part in the 
 Crusades during several years, and was made Bishop 
 of Accon (Acre), in Palestine, in 1217 ; and there can 
 be little doubt that he brought home from the East 
 many of the tales with which his ' Sermones de tem- 
 pore et sanctis’ are so plentifully larded. Next in 
 point of time was Etienne de Bourbon, a monk of the 
 Dominican order, who died at Lyons about the year 
 1261 ; whose great collection of stories, usually called 
 ' Liber de Donis,’^ was specially designed for preachers’ 
 use. This work, as well as the ‘ Sermones’ of Jacques 
 de Vitry, is of earlier date than the ' Gesta Eoman- 
 orum,’ that great storehouse of '' moralised ” tales — that 
 curious jumble of classical. Oriental, and Gothic fictions 
 
 ^ The full title of this work is ‘Tractatus de diversis materiis 
 prsedicabilibus, ordinatis et distinctis in septem partes, secundum 
 septem dona Spiritus sancti et eorum affectus, currens per distinc- 
 tiones materiarum, per causas et effectus, refertus auctoritatibus et 
 rationibus et exemplis diversis ad edificationem pertinentibus ani- 
 marum,’ by Stephanus de Borbone. The work is a treatise on the 
 seven gifts of the Holy Ghost (Isaiah xi. 2, Z), Timor, Pietas, Scientia, 
 Fortitudo, Consilium, Intellectus, and Sapientia, whence it is also 
 called ‘ Liber de Septem Donis. ’ — M. Lecoy de la Marche has printed 
 copious extracts from this work under the title of ‘ Anecdotes histor- 
 iques, Legendes et Apologues, tires du recueil inedit d’Etienne de 
 Bourbon, dominicain du XIII® siecle, publics pour la Societe de 
 I’Histoire de France.’ Paris : 1877. The editor’s notes to the stories 
 are not, as Professor Crane has remarked, so full as might be desired, 
 and several of the most interesting parallels have been overlooked ; 
 nevertheless this selection of Etienne’s exem^pla will prove most useful 
 to the student of storiology. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 13 
 
 and legends — which was first composed, according to 
 Oesterley, in England, about the close of the thir- 
 teenth century, and upon it was based another Latin 
 work, with the same title, done on the Continent, soon 
 after. '' The influence of the ' Gesta ’ on English poetry,” 
 says Sir Frederick Madden, in his introduction to an 
 early English translation (made probably in the reign 
 of Henry VI.), which forms one of the publications 
 of the Eoxburghe Club, '' was very considerable dur- 
 ing the reign of Eichard II. and his successors, and 
 quite equal to the effect produced on the Italian 
 novelists by the original Latin compilation. The 
 poems of Gower, Chaucer, Occleve, and Lydgate fur- 
 nish many instances of their familiarity with the 
 work. ... Of the value of the ' Gesta ’ in illustrating 
 the incorporation of Eastern fable and classical stories 
 with the feudal institutions of Europe, no one can 
 doubt who has studied its pages ; and it is entitled to 
 more than a usual share of consideration as the only 
 instance of a compilation formed in the retirement of 
 a cloister which has, mediately or immediately, fur- 
 nished to Boccaccio his tale of the ‘ Two Friends,’ to 
 Gower and Chaucer their ' History of Constance,’ to 
 Shakspeare his ' Merchant of Venice,’ to Parnell his 
 ' Hermit,’ to Walpole his 'Mysterious Mother,’ and to 
 Schiller his ' Fridolin.’ ” 
 
 The ' Sermones ’ of Jacques de Vitry and the ' Liber 
 de Donis ’ of Etienne de Bourbon being prior to the 
 ' Gesta Eomanorum,’ they are of considerable value 
 in tracing the diffusion of popular tales ; moreover, the 
 
u 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 authors of the ‘ Gesta ’ were indebted to both these 
 works, as well as to the ' Disciplina Clericalis ’ of 
 Peter Alfonsus, for a number of stories. For instance, 
 the story of the legitimate son who was recognised by 
 refusing to shoot an arrow at the body of his dead 
 father, though his two brothers had no such scruple, 
 which forms chapter xlv. of the Continental ' Gesta ' 
 (translated by Swan into English), has been taken 
 from the ' Liber de Donis,’ No. 160. The original 
 form of the story is found in the Talmud thus : '' A 
 man overheard his wife telling her daughter that 
 though she had ten sons, only one of them could fairly 
 claim her husband as his father. After the father’s 
 death it was found that he had bequeathed all his 
 property to one son, but the testament did not men- 
 tion his name. The question therefore arose, which 
 of the ten was intended. So they came one and all 
 to Eabbi Benaah, and asked him to arbitrate between 
 them. ' Go,’ said he to them, ‘ and beat at your 
 father’s grave until he rises to tell you to which of you 
 he had left his property.’ All except one did so, and 
 he, because by so doing he showed most respect for 
 his father’s memory, was presumed to be the one on 
 whom the father had fixed his affection. He was 
 accordingly supposed to be the one intended, and the 
 others were therefore excluded from the patrimony.” ^ 
 In the ' Gesta ’ we are told, there was a certain wise 
 king who had a beloved but not a loving wife ” ; she 
 had three illegitimate sons, who proved ungrateful and 
 
 ^ Hershon’s ‘Talmudic Miscellany,’ p. 142, par. 29. 
 
INTKODUCTIOK 
 
 15 
 
 rebellious. In course of time she had another son, 
 about whose legitimacy there was no doubt. When 
 the king died, there arose strife among his surviving 
 sons about the right of succession.” At length they 
 agree to refer the matter to ''a certain honourable 
 knight of the late king,” who bids them draw out their 
 father’s bo^y from the sepulchre, set it upright as a 
 mark for their arrows, and whosoever transfixes the 
 heart of his father shall obtain the kingdom.” The 
 arrow of the first son wounded the king’s right hand ; 
 that of the second son entered his mouth ; and that of 
 the third son pierced the heart ; but the fourth son 
 broke forth into a lamentable cry, and with eyes 
 swimming in tears said, 0 my poor father, have 
 I lived to see thee the victim of an impious contest ? ” 
 etc. So, as he would not shoot, the knight decided 
 that he was the true son, and he was seated on his 
 father’s throne. This version is obscure at the begin- 
 ning ; but in No. 21 of the selection of mediaeval Latin 
 stories, edited by Wright for the Percy Society : There 
 was a man who had, as he thought, three sons by his 
 wife. One day they quarrelled, and the woman said 
 to her husband, ' You think these boys are yours, but 
 in truth only one of them is your son.’” After his 
 death, the man’s lord ” sets the sons to shoot at his 
 body : the third son says, Is he not my father ? I 
 will not shoot at his body for the whole world. Ye 
 may have all his property rather than that I give him 
 a single blow.” Then the lord said to him, You are 
 his true son, and shall have his property and wealth.” 
 
16 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Wright remarks that the first part of this tale bears 
 some analogy to one in the old French collection, ' Cent 
 Nonvelles Nouvelles,’ 51, '' Le vrais peres.” ^ 
 
 Both De Vitry and De Bourbon have the well-known 
 story of the old man and his two wives, one of whom 
 plucked out all his grey hairs, the other all his black 
 ones, and thus left him entirely bald. This is also 
 in the Talmud. Allan Eamsay makes it the subject 
 of one of his rhymed fables. No. 18, beginning thus : 
 
 In ancient tales there is a story 
 Of ane had twa wives, whig and tory. 
 
 ^ About the same date as the version of Etienne de Bourbon, if 
 not earlier, is the fahliau entitled “ Le Jugement de Salomon” 
 (Barbazan, ed. Meon, hi. 440 ; Le Grand, ed. 1783, ii. 429), in which, 
 as the title indicates, the sage Hebrew king is the umpire in this 
 singular contest. Herrtage, in his notes to his editions of the ‘ Gesta ’ 
 published for the Early English Text Society, cites versions from 
 Alexander Neckam’s book, ‘De Natura Rerum,’ cap. clxxvi. p. 313, 
 end of the 13th century; and from Zuinger’s ‘Theatrum Vitse 
 Humanse,’ Basil, 1586 (vol. vii. lib. iv. p. 1910). It also occurs in 
 the great collection of John Bromyard, ‘ Summa Prse dican tium,’ v. 
 Filiatio, end of the 14th century ; in Herolt’s ‘ Promptuarium Ex- 
 emplorum ’ ; and in the ‘ Sermones Dominicales ’ of John Felton, 
 1431 (Hark MS. 4, leaf 256). The incident is also found in the 
 ‘ History of Friar Bacon ’ (see Thoms’ ‘ Early English Prose Roman- 
 ces,’ i. 319) ; and Geuelette has made use of it in his so-called 
 ‘Contes Tar tares.’ Lastly, it is the subject of a ballad, probably of 
 the early years of the 17th century (reprinted in J. Payne Collier’s 
 ‘Book of Roxburghe Ballads,’ 1847), entitled, ‘A Pleasant History of 
 a Gentleman in Thracia, which had four sonnes, and three of them 
 were none of his own : shewing how miraculously the True Heire 
 came to his inheritance.’ The affinity of this widely popular medi- 
 aeval tale with the celebrated Judgment of Solomon as related in the 
 First Book of Kings, ch. hi. 16ff., is very obvious ; and the incident 
 of the two women contending for bhe living child forms the subject of 
 one of the Jdtakas, or Buddhist Birth-Stories : see Dr Rhys David’s 
 translation, vol. i. pp. xiv-xvi, and his remarks thereon, pp. xliv-xlvii. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 17 
 
 The carlie’s head was now attired 
 With hairs in equal mixture lyart. 
 
 His wives (faith, ane might well sufficed) 
 
 Alternately was aye ill-pleased. 
 
 And so on, in this doggrel fashion ; the '' moral ” he 
 deduces being that between the two great political 
 parties the country’s interests suffer, as between two 
 stools,” etc. It is very curious to see how the story 
 has become garbled among the Chinese : '' A man 
 whose beard was turning grey had ordered, his second 
 wife to pull out all the white hairs. She, seeing that 
 the white hairs were very numerous, set about pulling 
 them out. As she could not manage to separate them, 
 she pulled out at the same time all the black hairs. 
 The task finished, the husband looked at himself in 
 the mirror, and was filled with astonishment. He 
 sharply rebuked his second wife, who said to him, 
 ‘ Since I was to pull out the more numerous [class of 
 hairs], why should I not have plucked out the scarcer 
 [class] ? ’ ” 1 
 
 In the ' Liber de Donis ’ (No. 50 7 J is a story to the 
 effect that Homer {sic), having been forbidden to enter 
 the king’s palace while clothed in a mean dress, pre- 
 sented himself one day in rich garments, and was 
 honourably received, and obtained what he asked ; but 
 instead of thanking the king for the favour, he thanked 
 his clothes. This is also told, among many others 
 
 1 From a selection of Chinese Tales and Fables appended to the 
 ‘Avad^nas’ (Indian Tales and Apologues), translated from the 
 Chinese into French by Stanislas Julien. Paris : 1869. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 B 
 
18 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 equally spurious, of Dante, and it is current in another 
 form, as one of the foolish things done by Giufa, the 
 typical noodle of Sicily; of the Khoja Nasr-ed-Dm 
 Efendi, in the collection of Turkish jests ascribed to 
 that typical simpleton of the Ottomans; and of a 
 learned man, in Gladwin’s ‘Persian Moonshee.’ 
 
 Another of the entertaining stories in the ‘ Liber de 
 Donis ’ (also in De Vitry’s ‘ Sermones ’) is of an inn- 
 keeper who used to tip over his customers’ wine, as 
 if by mere accident, and then remind them facetiously 
 that, according to the old saying, this accident was a 
 sign of good luck Hoc signijicat, alundanciam guc 
 mnict vobis, et bonam fortunam ”) ; but a pilgrim, to 
 whom this had been done, privately opened the spigot 
 of the cask, and repeated to the host his own favourite 
 saying. This droll incident was made the subject of 
 a fabliau, and from it adopted by the Italian novelists. 
 It also forms No. 29 of the ‘Kovellette di San Ber- 
 nardino,’ and 372 of Pauli, ‘Schimpf und Ernst.’ The 
 fabliau has been rendered^ by Way, from Le Grand, 
 as follows: 
 
 When Acre yielded to the hostile host 
 (’Twas but a year or two ago at most), 
 
 A pleasant chance in Normandy befell, 
 
 Which, as my memory serves, I mean to tell. 
 
 A needy bachelor had dwelling there. 
 
 Of worldly means in sooth so passing bare, 
 
 He once was fain his dinner-meal to make 
 On the poor pittance of a farthing cake. 
 
 To help this miserable morsel down. 
 
 He hies him to a tavern in the town, 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 19 
 
 And bade the vintner, as he meant to dine, 
 
 To draw him straight a farthing’s worth of wine. 
 
 The vintner (one, it seems, of churlish kind. 
 
 Who cared but little how his neighbour dined) 
 
 From the next vessel filled his measure up. 
 
 And, as he poured it thence into a cup. 
 
 Slubbered with such ill-grace the business o’er. 
 
 That half the draught was spilled upon the floor. 
 
 To crown the deed, with supercilious pride. 
 
 You’ll soon grow rich. Sir Bachelor,” he cried ; 
 
 “ Wine spilt, they say (be’t true or falsely spoken). 
 Some sequent good doth evermore betoken ! ” 
 
 The Norman deemed it were|but labour lost 
 To chafe or wrangle with his boorish host ; 
 
 His wit to artifice he wisely bent. 
 
 And thus devised the caitiff’s punishment : 
 
 In his poor purse remained one farthing still ; 
 
 This, with frank guise, as one who thought no ill. 
 
 He tendered to his host, so would he please 
 To furnish him a farthing slice of cheese. 
 
 Up to the loft, where all his cheeses lay. 
 
 The vintner hied, but muttering all the way ; 
 
 That self-same instant turned the knight about. 
 
 And from the wine-cask pulled the spigot out ; 
 
 Forth gushed the gurgling liquor, bright and good. 
 And the wide floor was deluged with the flood. 
 
 Back sped the host, and, furious at the sight. 
 
 First pegged his cask, and next assailed the knight; 
 But the strong Norman sternly shook the thrall. 
 Hurled back, and crushed the wine-pots with his fall ; 
 And, but that entering neighbours quelled the fray. 
 The vintner then had seen his dying day. 
 
 The matter soon was to the king made known 
 (Count Henry of Champagne possessed the throne) ; 
 And first the plaintive vintner stoutly spoke. 
 
 And claimed redress — wine lost and vessels broke. 
 
20 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 The Prince doomed not the knight to recompense, 
 
 But willed him first to argue his defence. 
 
 He the plain truth from end to end exposed, 
 
 Then with these words his frank recital closed : 
 
 “ Great sire ! ” he said, this worthy host of mine 
 Foretold much good would spring from spilling wine ; 
 
 That I, forsooth, w^hose cup was half thrown down. 
 
 Should soon become the wealthiest wight in town. 
 
 My gratitude, I own, o’ercame me here. 
 
 And, weening wealth might ne’er be bought too dear, 
 
 I strove to make him richer than myself, 
 
 And shed full half a cask to purchase pelf 1 ” 
 
 He ceased : loud plaudits rang through all the court ; 
 
 No tale was ever told so full of sport ; 
 
 All ranged them seemly by the Norman’s side. 
 
 While good King Henry laughed until he cried ; 
 
 Then thus dismissed the parties and their suit : 
 
 “ What’s spilt is spilt, betide or bale or boot.” 
 
 Dr Johnson said that a tavern chair is the seat of hu- 
 man felicity: '' the more you call for, the more welcome 
 you are;’’ and no doubt this is very true — when you have 
 money to spend. But “ mine host ” can be very churl- 
 ish as well as very obsequious ; and certainly the poor 
 gentleman in this tale did not '' find his warmest wel- 
 come at an inn.” There is a fine stroke of humour in 
 representing the furious taverner, on discovering the 
 wanton waste of his good liquor, as taking care to re- 
 place the spigot before falling foul of his enemy : he 
 did not permit his anger to overcome his notions of 
 economy ! 
 
 Parnell composed his once very popular poetical tale 
 of ' The Hermit ’ from chapter Ixxx. of the ' Gesta 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 21 
 
 Eomanorum/ into which it was probably taken either 
 from the ‘ Sermones ’ of Jacques de Vitry or the ' Liber 
 de Donis ’ of Etienne de Bourbon. It should seem 
 that the ‘ Gesta ’ story was not known to Thomas Brad- 
 wardine, confessor to Edward III., who died in 1349, 
 a few weeks after he was consecrated Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, since he cites it on the authority of De 
 Vitry (Jacobus de Vitriaco) in his ‘ De Causa Dei con- 
 tra Pelagium.’ In this story, a hermit has begun to 
 question the equity of God’s providence — wicked men 
 being permitted to prosper, and good men to be afflicted. 
 To remove his doubts, an angel is sent from heaven, 
 and they journey together. The first night they lodge 
 in the house of a very pious man, and in the morning 
 the angel takes with him from the house a great cup of 
 gold. Next night they lodged in the house of another 
 holy man, and in the morning the angel, before his 
 departure, killed an infant in the cradle, who was the 
 only son of their host. The third night they came to 
 a house where they were also freely entertained, and 
 when they departed in the morning, the master of the 
 house sent with them his steward, whose fidelity he 
 highly prized, in order to show them the way. As 
 they were going over a bridge, the angel flung the 
 steward into the river, and he was drowned. The 
 fourth night they met with very untoward entertain- 
 ment at a wicked man’s house ; yet next morning the 
 angel gave him the cup of gold. Then he explained 
 all his strange actions to the hermit: He had taken 
 away the cup from the first pious host, because, drink- 
 
22 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 ing from it every morning, he became somewhat unfit 
 for his holy duties, though not so much that others or 
 himself perceived it ; and it was better for him to lose 
 his cup than his temperance. He had killed the only 
 child of the second good man, because since it was 
 born he had given but little to the poor, and become 
 eager to lay up money for his child ; but now the child 
 was taken to heaven, the father would serve God better 
 upon earth. The steward, drowned by the angel, had 
 plotted to kill his master the night following. And as 
 for the wicked man, as he was to have nothing in the 
 next world, the angel gave him something in this, 
 which, however, would prove a snare to him, for he 
 would become more intemperate. — The story is also 
 found in some recensions of the ' Vitae Patrum,’ whence 
 it may have been taken by Jacques de Vi try, one 
 version of which is regarded by M. Gaston Paris as 
 the origin of the mediaeval variants. It reappeared 
 in John Herolt’s ' Sermones de tempore,’ printed at 
 Nuremberg in 1496. It also occurs, in a paraphrastic 
 form, with some variations, and an interpolated inci- 
 dent, in Sir Percy Herbert’s ' Certain Conceptions or 
 Considerations,’ etc., published in 1652. The sub- 
 stance of Herbert’s narrative Howell copied in a letter 
 To my Lord Marquis of Hertford,” and printed in an 
 early edition of his ' Epistolse Ho - Elianse.’ Besides 
 transpositions and some alterations of the circum- 
 stances, which Bradwardine, after De Vitry, allotted to 
 the four days, Howell (eleventh edition, 1754) has the 
 following addition : '' The fifth day they came to a great 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 23 
 
 rich town, but some miles before they came to it, they 
 met with a merchant at the close of the day, who had 
 a great charge of money about him ; and asking the 
 next passage to the town, the young man put him in 
 a clean contrary way. The anchorite and his guide 
 being come to the town, at the gate they spied a devil, 
 who lay as it were sentinel, but he was asleep. They 
 found also both men and women at sundry kinds of 
 sports, some dancing, others singing, with divers sorts of 
 revellings. They went afterwards to a convent of Capu- 
 chins, where about the gate they found legions of devils 
 laying siege to that monastery.” At the conclusion of 
 the angehs denouement, we are informed that the mer- 
 chant was misdirected that he might avoid a band of 
 ruffians prepared to rob and murder him ; that the 
 ‘‘ great luxurious city is so much at Lucifer’s devotion 
 that he needs but one single sentinel to secure it, and 
 even he may safely sleep upon his guard.” On the 
 contrary, ''to the monastery inhabited by so many 
 devout souls, in vain hath he brought so many legions 
 to beleaguer it ; for they bear up against him most 
 undauntedly, maugre all his infernal power and 
 stratagems.” ^ 
 
 ^ In the ‘ Contes Devots ’ we have one of the earliest European 
 versions under the title of “ L’hermite qu’un ange conduisit dans le 
 siecle.” Here the incidents are : a porcelain cup taken from the 
 abode of a recluse, and afterwards given to a miser whose servant 
 had sheltered the two travellers ; a rich abbey set on fire by the 
 angel, because the monks had become lazy, luxurious, and regardless 
 of their religious duties : now they would rebuild their monastery in 
 humbler style, and live frugally and piously ; and the drowning of 
 the son of a rich but good man. See Le Grand’s ‘ Fabliaux, ou 
 
24 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 % 
 
 The original form is found in the Talmud: Eabbi 
 Jochanan, the son of Levi, accompanies Elijah, who 
 had returned to earth, in his travels, and the incidents 
 are : The only cow of a poor man drops dead, in re- 
 sponse to Elijah’s prayer ; the saint causes a carpenter 
 to repair the wall of a house, the master of which, 
 a haughty and wealthy man, had treated them with 
 little hospitality ; entering a synagogue, Elijah called 
 out, '' Who is here willing to feed and lodge two poor 
 men ? ” But none answered, and no respect was 
 shown to them. In the morning he re-entered the 
 synagogue, and embracing the members, said, “ I wish 
 that you may all become presidents.” Next evening 
 the members of the synagogue in another city sent 
 them to the best inn, where they were entertained 
 with honour ; and in the morning Elijah, on parting 
 with them, said, '' May you have but one president.” 
 Eabbi Jochanan could no longer restrain his curiosity. 
 '' Tell me,” said he to Elijah, the meaning of all these 
 actions which I have witnessed. To those who have 
 treated us coldly, thou hast uttered good wishes ; to 
 those who have been gracious to us, thou hast made no 
 suitable return.” Then Elijah said, ''We first entered 
 the house of the poor man, who treated us kindly. It 
 had been decreed on that very day that his wife should 
 die. I prayed unto the Lord that the cow might prove 
 a redemption for her ; God granted my prayers, and 
 the woman was preserved unto her husband. The 
 
 Contes, du XII® et du XIII® si^cle ; ’ Paris, 1781 ; tome v. pp. 
 211-223. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 25 
 
 rich man who treated us coldly, his wall I repaired, 
 without a new foundation, and without digging into 
 the old one ; had he repaired it himself, he would have 
 dug, and thus discovered a treasure which lies buried, 
 but which is now for ever lost to him. To the mem- 
 bers of the synagogue who were inhospitable I said, 
 ‘ May you be all presidents,’ for where many rule there 
 can be no peace ; but to the others I said, ' May you 
 have but one president,’ for with one leader no mis- 
 understanding may arise. Now, if thou seest the 
 wicked prospering, be not envious ; if thou seest the 
 righteous in poverty and trouble, be not provoked or 
 doubtful of God’s justice.” ^ 
 
 Another talmudic legend is related of Moses while 
 on Mount Sinai: Moses having complained of the 
 impunity of vice and its success in this world, and the 
 frequent sufferings of the innocent, the Lord took him 
 to a rock which projected from the mountain, where 
 he could overlook the plain of the desert stretching at 
 his feet. On one of the oases he beheld a young Arab 
 asleep. He awoke, and leaving behind him a bag of 
 pearls, he sprang into his saddle, and rapidly disap- 
 peared from the horizon. Another Arab came to the 
 oasis ; he discovered the pearls, took them, and went 
 away in the opposite direction. Now an aged wan- 
 derer, leaning on his staff, bent his weary steps 
 towards the shady spot. He laid himself down and 
 went asleep ; but scarcely had he closed his eyes when 
 he was rudely roused from his slumber: the young 
 ^ ‘ The Talmud ’ (selections translated), by H. Polano, p. 313. 
 
26 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Arab had returned and demanded his pearls. The 
 hoary man replied that he had not taken them. The 
 other grew enraged, and accused him of theft. He 
 swore that he had not seen the treasure, but the other 
 seized him, and a scuffle ensued. The young Arab 
 drew his sword, and plunged it into the breast of the 
 aged man, who fell lifeless on the earth. '' 0 Lord, is 
 this justice ? exclaimed Moses in horror. “ Be silent !” 
 said the Lord. '' Behold, this man, whose blood is 
 now mingling with the waters of the desert, many 
 years ago, secretly and on the same spot, murdered 
 the father of the youth who has now slain him. His 
 crime remained concealed from man : but vengeance 
 is mine ; I will repay.” ^ 
 
 From some of the Arabian Jews it is probable that 
 Muhammed derived the story, which he reproduces in 
 the eighteenth chapter of the Kur’an, where it is told, 
 with variations, of Moses and the prophet Khizar.^ In 
 the course of their wanderings they came to the sea- 
 side, where they went up into a ship, and Khizar made 
 a hole therein. Then they met a youth, and he slew 
 him. Coming to a city, they were refused food by the 
 
 ^ Dr W^eil’s ‘ The Bible, the Koran, and the Talmud,’ pp. 134, 135 ; 
 note by English translator. See also Lane’s ‘Arabian Nights,’ ii. 577. 
 
 2 According to the Eastern legend, Khizar was despatched by an 
 ancient Persian king to procure him some of the Water of Life. 
 After a tedious journey, he reached the Fountain of Immortality, 
 and having drank of its waters, they suddenly vanished. It is 
 believed that Khizar still lives, and occasionally appears to favoured 
 individuals, always clothed in green, and acts as their guide in diffi- 
 cult adventures. Khizar is often confounded with Moses, Elias, and 
 even St George. The name Khizar signifies green . — From my ‘ Book 
 of Sindibfid,’ p. 41. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 27 
 
 inhabitants ; and Khizar, seeing a wall that was ready 
 to fall down, set it upright. Moses desires an explana- 
 tion of these things, and he is told that the vessel 
 belonged to certain poor men who did their business 
 in the sea ; and Khizar rendered it unserviceable 
 because a king took every sound ship for his own use. 
 As to the youth, his parents were true believers, and 
 he, being an unbeliever, was slain, lest his parents 
 should suffer from his perverseness and ingratitude. 
 The wall belonged to two orphan youths in the city, 
 and in it was a treasure hidden that belonged to them ; 
 their father was a righteous man, and the Lord was 
 pleased that they should attain their full age, and 
 take forth their treasure. In the Turkish book of the 
 ‘ Forty Vazirs,’ this Muslim version is reproduced as 
 the Lady's 29th Tale. 
 
 Parnell's poems were first published by Pope in 
 1721, two years after the author’s death. The inven- 
 tion of the tale of the ' Hermit ' had been generally, 
 credited to Parnell till Goldsmith wrote his Life, pre- 
 fixed to an enlarged edition of his poems, in 1773. 
 From Pope, in Spence's Anecdotes, Goldsmith relates 
 (and the opinion is adopted implicitly by Johnson) 
 that the story was written originally in Spanish, 
 whence, probably, Howell translated it into prose, and 
 inserted it in his letters. He adds that '' Dr Henry 
 More, in his ' Dialogues,' has the very same story," 
 and that he '' had been informed by some that it is 
 originally of Arabian invention." We have seen, 
 however, that it is of Hebrew origin, so far as has 
 
28 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 been ascertained; and Parnell doubtless found it in 
 the English translation of the 'Gesta Eomanorum' 
 published in 1703. Voltaire reproduces this famous 
 story in his ' Zadig/ chapter xvii., where the '' philo- 
 sopher ” accompanies an angel disguised as a hermit, 
 who steals a gold cup from a man who was ostenta- 
 tious of his wealth and hospitality, and gives it to a 
 miserly old fellow; burns down the house of a man 
 who had treated them kindly ; and drowns the nephew 
 of a widow who had entertained them most honourably. 
 The angel explains to Zadig that the cup was taken 
 from the owner in order to reform his pride, and given 
 to the miserly man to excite his generosity ; the good 
 man finds a treasure beneath the ashes of his burned 
 house ; and the widow’s son, had he lived another 
 year, would have been her murderer. Some have 
 supposed that Voltaire copied his apologue from Par- 
 nell ; but the same story had previously been employed 
 by Antoinette Bourignon the mystic. It is not un- 
 likely that Jacques de Vitry, who seems to have first 
 introduced it into Europe, heard the story while he 
 was in Syria.^ 
 
 The stratagem employed by Sancho Panza, while 
 governor of Barrataria (' Don Quixote,’ ii. 45), to dis- 
 cover whether a young man had done violence to a 
 certain woman, is found in Jacques de Vitry and 
 Etienne de Bourbon. This is also in Wright’s Latin 
 
 ^ This legend has become a popular tale : see the ‘ Sicilianische 
 Marchen’ of Laura von Gonzenbach, No. 92, and De Trueba, ^Narra- 
 ciones populares,’ p. 65. 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 29 
 
 Stories (No. 20), edited for the Percy Society, where 
 it is thus related : I have heard of a certain woman, 
 who was complaining before a judge of a certain young 
 man, who, so she said, had overpowered and violated 
 her. The youth denied the charge. '' Give her,’’ said 
 the judge to him, ten marks of silver, as a recompense 
 for the violence you have offered her.” Having got 
 the money, she went off joyful. Then the judge said 
 to the youth, '' Follow her, and take the money from 
 her.” The young man tried to fulfil the command of 
 the judge, and to take the money from her. But she 
 began bravely to beat him off, and to call out, and 
 many people running up, he was unable to hurt her. 
 Both were again brought before the judge. “Woman,” 
 said he, “ what is the matter with you ? What do you 
 want ? Why were you clamouring so loudly ? ” She 
 said, “Because, my lord, he was trying to take my 
 money from me ; but I beat him off bravely, and cried 
 out so that he could not succeed.” “ Then,” said the 
 judge, “ give the money back to the youth ; for if you 
 had beaten him off and called out so bravely before, he 
 could never have violated you : you love money more 
 than purity.” This is imitated in the Italian novels 
 of Malespini, Part ii. No. 56, and in the ‘ Cent Nouvelles 
 Nouvelles,’ 25, “ Forcee de Gre.” That the story is of 
 Asiatic origin seems probable from its being one of the 
 Pleasing Tales in Gladwin’s ‘ Persian Moonshee,’ and 
 from its occurring in several Indian story-books, 
 r The famous tale of the Widow who was Comforted 
 which forms one of the stories of the ‘ Seven Wise 
 
30 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Masters/ though it does not occur in the oldest Euro- 
 pean version of the romance, the Latin ' Dolopathos,' 
 is found in the ‘ Sermones de tempore et sanctis ’ of 
 Jacques de Vitry, and the ‘Liber de Donis ’ of Etienne 
 de Bourbon. A man who was very fond of his wife, 
 while jesting with her one day, chanced to wound her 
 slightly in the hand, at which he was so grieved that 
 he died the following day. His widow was incon- 
 solable ; and after he was buried, she took up her 
 abode beside his grave, and, refusing food, continued 
 weeping and wringing her hands. When night came 
 on, she made a good fire, for the weather was very 
 cold. Now the bodies of three thieves were hanging 
 on gibbets not far from the place, and a knight had 
 to watch that they were not stolen by their friends, as 
 quit-rent for his lands. Seeing the bright fire, he 
 alighted from his horse, and approached to warm 
 himself. He was both young and comely, and the 
 widow was induced by his soothing speeches to abate 
 somewhat of her excessive sorrow, and partake of some 
 food which he pressed on her ; then, fortified with a 
 draught of wine, she yielded him her love. After a 
 time, the knight quitted the widow whom he had 
 comforted, and returned to his ghastly charge, when, 
 to his dismay, he discovered that one of the bodies had 
 been taken away. Going back to the widow, he told 
 her that in consequence of this he should lose his 
 lands. She bade him be of good cheer, for his heritage 
 need not be lost for such a trifling matter ; he had only 
 to take up the body of her husband and hang it in 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 31 
 
 place of that of the thief which had been stolen. But, 
 says the knight, the thief had a great wound on his 
 head. She replied, that he should make a similar 
 wound on the head of her husband. Nay, quoth the 
 knight, I could never strike a dead man ; whereupon 
 the widow took a sharp knife and wounded the head 
 of her husband : and when the knight recollected that 
 the thief had lost two of his front teeth, she imme- 
 diately knocked out two of her husband’s teeth with 
 a stone. The body being hung on the gallows, the 
 knight, according to some versions, sternly upbraided 
 the widow for her levity and heartlessness, since her 
 husband had died because he had accidentally shed a 
 few drops of her blood, but she had not scrupled to 
 mutilate his body, and so he would not unite himself 
 to such a wanton.^ 
 
 This was a favourite story of the raconteurs during 
 the Middle Ages. The incident is the subject of a 
 fabliau entitled De la femme qui se fist putain sur 
 la fosse de son mari,” and Keller refers to many other 
 versions in his “ Einleitung,” pp. clix-clxvii, to the 
 ‘ Eomans des Sept Sages.’ ^ It has been borrowed from 
 
 ^ In the ‘ Liber de Donis ’ of Etienne de Bourbon — who avowedly 
 took the story from Jacques de Vitry — the body of the husband is 
 not said to have been mutilated ; but in another version of the same 
 date, given by M. Lecoy de la Marche, in ‘ La Chaire fran 9 aise du 
 moyen age, specialement au treizieme siecle,’ &c., in order that the 
 body should correspond to that of the robber, a foot is cut off, an eye 
 is plucked out, and the hair pulled off the head by ‘‘ the widow who 
 was comforted.” 
 
 2 It is found in the Talmud : When the widow is informed that 
 the corpse has been taken away, she says, Don’t be alarmed ; 
 
32 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the episode of the Matron of Ephesus, in Petronius 
 Arbiter, where the grief - stricken widow, with her 
 faithful maid, is represented as sitting in her husband’s 
 sepulchre with dishevelled hair and beating her bosom. 
 The cause of her husband’s death is not mentioned. 
 Her relatives and friends in vain endeavoured to dis- 
 suade her from her evident design of starving herself 
 to death. All Ephesus bewailed the exemplary woman, 
 who had been five days without food ; when a soldier, 
 who was guarding the bodies of some robbers crucified 
 close by, observing the light of the lamp that burned 
 in the tomb, was led to the spot by curiosity, and so 
 on. The wounding of the husband’s body does not 
 occur. The story concludes with these verses : 
 
 Give not your bark to the winds, nor your heart to the fair ; 
 
 More perfidious are they than the winds or the sea. 
 
 They are all of them naught : if a good one was e’er, 
 
 How a bad thing came good is a riddle to me. 
 
 Voltaire’s tale of The Nose in ' Zadig ’ is similar to that 
 of the Ephesian Widow, though he derived it from a 
 different source: A lady had vowed she would not 
 marry a second husband so long as the rivulet con- 
 tinued to flow past the grave of her lately deceased 
 spouse, and was busy contriving to turn its course. 
 
 exhume the body of my husband, and hang it up instead.” — 
 (Hershon’s ^ Talmudic Miscellany,’ p. 28, par. 30.) It occurs in the 
 ‘ Cento Novelle Antiche,’ the first collection of Italian tales. Eustace 
 Deschamps reproduces it (14th century) ; St Evremonde, Lamote, 
 and Fuselier each made it the subject of a comedy ; it reappears in 
 La Fontaine ; it was taken into ^sop by Ogilvy ; and Jeremy 
 Taylor tells it in his ‘ Holy Dying.’ 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 33 
 
 Zadig’s wife tells him of this, and professes her disgust 
 at such heartlessness. Zadig, not long after, pretends 
 to have died suddenly ; his intimate friend visits the 
 sorrowing lady, makes love to her, falls suddenly ill — 
 the only cure is the nose of a dead man applied to the 
 affected part ; the lady takes a sharp knife, and repairs 
 to her husband’s tomb, with the intention of cutting off 
 his nose, but Zadig gets up and scoffs at his wife’s 
 hollow professions of affection. 
 
 This Voltaire adapted from a tale related in Du 
 Halde’s ' Description of the Empire of China,’ vol. ii. 
 pp. 167-174. A philosopher called Chwang-tze had 
 married three times : his first wife died ; the second 
 he divorced, because of her infidelity ; the third is the 
 subject of the tale, which is called ' Tyen,’ from the lady’s 
 name. Chwang-tze having observed a widow fanning 
 the earth over her husband’s grave, he inquired of her 
 the reason for such a strange proceeding, and she told 
 him that she had promised her dying husband not to 
 marry again before the earth of his grave was perfectly 
 dry ; '' and now,” she added, '' as it has occurred to me 
 that the surface of this ground, which has been newly 
 tempered, would not very soon dry, I thought I would 
 just fan it a little.” The philosopher approved of her 
 plan, and obtained her fan as a souvenir. Eeturning 
 home, he told his wife of this adventure, .and showed 
 her the fan, which she snatched from him and tore 
 into shreds, declaring the woman to be a heartless 
 hussy ; — for her own part, were he to die, she should 
 never marry again. Shortly after this Chwang-tze 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
34 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND PICTIONS. 
 
 became suddenly ill and died. The lady was over- 
 powered with grief. Preparations were made for the 
 funeral ; friends and acquaintances assembled at her 
 house, amongst whom was a young and handsome 
 student, attended by a servant. He informs the lady 
 that he had purposed becoming a disciple of the late 
 philosopher, and had come to attend his obsequies. 
 The widow falls in love with him, and contrives to 
 acquaint him of her passion through his old and faith- 
 ful servant. After several objections which the stu- 
 dent raised had been removed by the amorous widow, 
 he consents to marry her, but suddenly falls into con- 
 vulsions. His servant tells her that the only remedy 
 is the brain of a man, recently dead, dissolved in wine. 
 Quoth the lady readily, My husband has been dead 
 only a few days ; open his coffin, and take the remedy 
 from thence.’’ The cofiin was opened accordingly, 
 when, to the consternation of the widow, the philo- 
 sopher sat up, for he had only pretended to be dead, 
 and had created all the scene by magical arts.^ 
 
 Satirical tales of widows’ tears, which shrink, like 
 Arno in the summer,” are common in our old English 
 jest-books. Thus in the ' Hundred Mery Talys ’ (the 
 book referred to by Beatrice in ''Much Ado about 
 Nothing,” when she says to Benedick, " Will you tell 
 me who told you that I was disdainful, and that I 
 
 ^ This story is also given by Davis in his work on the Chinese. 
 Abel Remusat made a French translation, somewhat fuller than that 
 of Du Halde (‘ La Matrone du Pays de Soung ’), and recently it has 
 been reproduced, with an introduction, by M. E. Legrand. 
 
INTRODUCTION^. 
 
 35 
 
 had my good wit out of the Hundred Merry Tales ? 
 is the story of the woman who followed her fourth 
 husband’s bier and wept, not because of his death, as 
 she told a gossip, but because she was not this time, 
 as on former occasions, provided with another hus- 
 band ; and in the same collection, we read of a woman 
 kneeling at the mass of requiem, while the corpse of 
 her husband lay in the chapel, when a young man 
 whispered her '' that he myght be her husband she 
 replied, Syr, by my trowthe, I am sorry that ye 
 come too late, for I am sped all redy. For I was 
 made sure yesterday to another man.” And in ‘ Mery 
 Talys and Quicke Answeres,’ a young woman grieving 
 sorely for the death of her husband, her father bade 
 her cheer up, for he had provided another husband 
 for her ; but she said she would have him not. How^- 
 ever, when they were all at dinner, she whispered to 
 her father amidst her sobs, “ Father, where is this same 
 young man that is to be my husband ? ” 
 
 From the 'Vitae Patrum’ Jacques de Vitry and 
 Etienne de Bourbon took the story of the nun who 
 tore out her eyes, and sent them to a king who had 
 fallen in love with her beauty. This is the well- 
 known tale of St Bridget (see ' Three Middle Irish 
 Homilies,’ by Whitley Stokes, p. 65); and it has its 
 prototype in the great Indian story-book entitled 
 ' Katha Sarit Sagara ’ — Ocean of the Streams of Narra- 
 tive — where it is related of a prince who abandoned 
 his kingdom, and adopted the life of a wandering 
 hermit. Entering the house of a merchant one day 
 
36 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 to ask alms, the young wife of the merchant, on seeing 
 him, exclaimed, ''How came such a handsome man 
 as you to undertake such a severe vow as this ? 
 Happy is the woman who is gazed upon with such 
 eyes as yours ! ’’ Upon this the begging hermit tore 
 out one eye, and asked her what there was in it to 
 be so attractive. He then told the lady a story of 
 a hermit who conquered his anger, after which she 
 bowed before him ; and he, being regardless of his 
 body, lovely though it was, passed on to perfection. 
 
 Liebrecht has shown that the biographies of Christian 
 saints were largely indebted to Buddhist hagiology, 
 in his essay on the sources of the spiritual romance 
 of ' Barlaam and Josaphat.’ ^ And a careful examina- 
 tion — but what a task it would prove ! — of the medi- 
 aeval sermon-books and exemjpla, as stories designed 
 for preachers’ use were styled, would probably result 
 in the discovery that many of the monkish tales are 
 traceable to Buddhist sources. After the fall of Bud- 
 dhism in India, and even during its decline, according 
 to Max Muller, the Brahmans did not scruple to ap- 
 propriate the beautiful tales and apologues of their 
 enemies, and employ them for purposes of instruction. 
 The Sanskrit book entitled 'Pancha Tantra’ — Pive 
 Sections — to which our European versions of the 
 Fables of Pilpay are closely allied, and very many 
 of the tales in the ' Katha Sarit Sagara,’ are of Buddhist 
 origin. Moreover, I conceive the germs of more than 
 one of Lucian’s amusing stories are found in the Bud- 
 1 ^ Zilr Volkskunde,’ p. 441. 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 37 
 
 dhist writings. Nor is this at all improbable, since 
 Indian fictions certainly began to spread both east- 
 ward and westward in the second century of our era ; 
 and fables and tales being the means employed for 
 conveying the doctrines of Gautama to the minds of 
 the people, we may well suppose that they would be 
 readily taken up and '' wafted from clime to clime,’’ 
 although the lessons they were designed to inculcate 
 may have been ignored. But there is reason to be- 
 lieve that Buddhist doctrines had penetrated Western 
 Europe long before the second century. As Dr J. W. 
 Eedhouse remarks eloquently, When the Hindus 
 j had become disciples of Buddha \i.e., Gautama], from 
 ( the ninth century before Christ, the whole world of 
 civilisation, from the Pacific to the Atlantic, caught 
 many a maxim of grandeur, and especially mercy to 
 others — the brightest gem of theoretical Christianity — 
 from the followers of that mild sage, the greatest man, 
 in some respects, that has ever lived on earth.” 
 
 The monkish writers of mediseval times were in- 
 debted, directly or indirectly, for some of their stories 
 to the Talmud, as we have already seen ; and it appears 
 that the compilers of that strange monument of human 
 wisdom and human folly added to their own inven- 
 tions narratives and apologues of Indian as well as 
 Greek and Eoman origin. For example, we are told 
 that the infamous citizens of Sodom had a particular 
 kind of bed for the use of the weary traveller who 
 entered their city and sought shelter for the night : if 
 he was found to be too long for the bed, they reduced 
 
 
38 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 him to the proper length by chopping off so much of 
 his legs ; and if too short, he was stretched to the 
 requisite length. Here we have the old Greek legend 
 of Procrustes, the robber of Attica, who was said to 
 treat his victims in this manner. And some trace of 
 the same tale seems to be found in an account of one 
 of the adventures of Kurroglii, the robber-poet of 
 Turkish-Persia (in Chodzko’s ‘ Popular Poetry of Per- 
 sia ’), where the Princess Nighara, daughter of the Sul- 
 tan of Turkey, playfully says to her bandit-lover, who 
 had gained access to the harem in the disguise of a 
 pilgrim, ''I will fetch thee one of my father’s robes; 
 and if it should be too short for thee, I shall have thy 
 legs chopped off just at the place where the robe will 
 reach ; and if it be too long, I shall direct a nail to 
 be driven into each of thy heels, that thou mayest 
 grow taller.” Kurroglu replies that by so doing she 
 should treat him after the code of Abu Hurayra, refer- 
 ring, apparently, to some Arab legend similar to that 
 of Procrustes.^ Another Greek legend reappears in 
 the Talmud, as a citation from the Book of dasher: 
 '' So light was Haphtali (the son of Jacob) that he 
 
 ^ Abu Hurayra — “ Father of a kitten.” This was the hicnya^ or 
 by-name, of one of Muhammed’s most beloved disciples. He was so 
 named by Muhammed from his carrying a kitten on his arm one 
 day. He is the source of several traditions of the Prophet. The Abu 
 Hurayra, whose “ code,” according to Kurrogld (“ son of the blind,” 
 so called because his father had been blinded), was similar to that of 
 the robber of Attica, must have been a very different man, and the 
 story referred to seems now forgotten, like the tale of two women 
 alluded to by the genie whom the Arabian fisherman liberated from 
 the copper vessel in which he had been confined by Solomon : ‘‘ Do 
 not deal with me as did Umama to Atika.” 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 39 
 
 could go upon the ears of corn without crushing them.’' 
 This is “the fleet Camilla” in a Jewish gaberdine! 
 And a farther instance of the familiarity of the Eab- 
 bins with classical literature is furnished in one of the 
 numerous apothegms in the Talmud : “ When love is 
 intense, both man and wife] find room enough 
 upon one bench ; afterwards they may find themselves 
 cramped in a space of sixty cubits.” This seems 
 derived from an anecdote in Athenseus, xii. : Python 
 of Byzantium was a very fat man. He once said to 
 the citizens, in addressing them, to make friends after 
 a political dispute, “ Gentlemen, you see how stout I 
 am ; well, I have a wife at home who is still fatter. 
 Now, when we are good friends, we can sit on a very 
 small seat; but when we quarrel, I assure you the 
 whole house cannot contain us.” 
 
 The famous Persian poet Hafiz seems also to have 
 been acquainted with classical Greek and Eoman lit- 
 erature. Stobseus (Plor. 36‘, 19) tells us that Zeno 
 said to a youth who was more disposed to talk than 
 to listen, “ Young man, nature gave us one tongue, 
 but two ears, so that we may hear just twice as much 
 as we speak,” — a saying which Hafiz has thus repro- 
 duced : 
 
 Two ears and but a single tongue 
 
 By nature’s law to man belong. 
 
 The lesson she would teach is clear : 
 
 Kepeat but half of what you hear. 
 
 The origin of chivalric romance in Europe was the 
 subject of keen controversy among English writers in 
 
40 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the last century, and is still perhaps not satisfactorily 
 ascertained. Percy contended that the spirit of chiv- 
 alry existed among the northern nations long before 
 the establishment of the feudal system, or the intro- 
 duction of knighthood as a regular order; and that 
 their fictions were carried from the North by the 
 Scalds who probably accompanied the army of Eollo 
 into Normandy. Warton, on the other hand, main- 
 tained that romantic fiction was introduced into 
 Europe by the Saracens, who settled in Spain in the 
 eighth century, and suggested that, even admitting the 
 Gothic theory, yet as the Goths themselves came from 
 the East, their fictions also had in all likelihood an 
 Asiatic origin. There is much to be urged in favour 
 of both theories. Many passages in European romances 
 of chivalry, especially those describing the prowess of 
 the heroes in battle, bear a very striking likeness to 
 the narratives of the exploits of the famous Bedouin 
 poet-hero Antar, in the romance which purports to 
 recount his adventures.^ In the romance of Guy of 
 Warwick, Sir Heraud, one of Guy’s companions, is the 
 prisoner of a king, who, having engaged in war, suffers 
 defeat, and is at length besieged in his capital. It 
 happens that an attendant of the king overhears the 
 prisoner’s complaints, and discovering that he is none 
 other than the illustrious Heraud, the second hero of 
 
 ^ A style various and elegant, reaching sometimes to the sublime; 
 characters drawn with force, and skilfully sustained ; render the 
 Romance of Antar eminently remarkable : it may be termed the Iliad 
 of the Arabians .” — Caussin de Perceval. 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 41 
 
 Christendom, acquaints the king of the name and rank 
 of his prisoner. The king at once sends for Heraud 
 and requests the aid of his sword, promising him his 
 freedom and great gifts in return. Heraud consents, 
 and by his invincible prowess turns the tide of affairs 
 once more in favour of the king. A precisely similar 
 incident occurs in the Arabian romance of 'Antar.’ 
 The hero is taken prisoner by Monzar, king of Hira, 
 who, having offended his suzerain, Nushirvan, king of 
 Persia, the latter despatches an army to chastise his 
 insolence, led by the famous champion Khosrewan. 
 The king of Hira is defeated in the first battle, and 
 recollecting his noble prisoner Antar, sends for him in 
 his extremity, and requests him to lead his troops 
 against the Persians on the following day. Antar 
 consents, slays the champion Khosrewan in single 
 combat, and the Persians are routed with great slaugh- 
 ter. In the romance of Sir Bevis of Hampton, we are 
 told that Bevis, when only seven years old, knocked 
 down two stout men with his cudgel ; and while yet a 
 boy, he slew sixty Saracen knights. The Bedouin hero 
 Antar also exhibited extraordinary courage in his 
 childhood: when he was but ten years old he slew 
 a wolf that had dispersed his flock, and carried home 
 the head and paws of the beast in a basket, and pre- 
 sented them as trophies of his prowess to his mother, 
 — a bold exploit, which may be compared with that of 
 David the Hebrew shepherd-boy : Thy servant kept 
 his father’s sheep, and there came a lion and a bear, 
 and took a lamb out of the flock : and I went out 
 
42 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 after him, and delivered it out of his mouth ; and when 
 he arose against me, I caught him by his beard, and 
 smote him, and slew him. Thy servant slew both the 
 lion and the bear; and this uncircumcised Philistine 
 shall be as one of them.’' (1 Sam. xvii. 34-36.) 
 
 In the combat of Sir Guy with the Danish cham- 
 pion Colbrand are incidents analogous to some of 
 Antar’s hand-to-hand encounters with ''foemen worthy 
 of his steel.” Colbrand threw three darts at Guy, two 
 of which failed, and the third glided through his shield, 
 and passing under his arm, went an acre before it 
 fell to the ground. He dealt a stroke at Guy with 
 his sword, missed him, but cut his horse in two. At 
 last Guy gives Colbrand a stroke on the neck, smiting 
 his head from his body, and sending it half a foot into 
 the earth. Sir Bevis thus despatched an insolent 
 citizen : 
 
 To that burgess a stroke he sent, 
 
 Through helm and hauberk down it went ; 
 
 Both man and horse in that stound 
 He cleaved down to the ground. 
 
 King Arthur, dealing a heavy blow on the shoulder of 
 a giant fifteen feet in height, divided him to the nave 
 so accurately that his sides hung over his horse, and 
 he was thus carried about the field to the great horror 
 of the Saracens. Sir Guy cleaved Sir Gunter from 
 the helmet to the pommel of his saddle. In the 
 Eomance of Antar the hero wards off the four darts 
 thrown at him by the Greek champion, and catching 
 the mace which he then hurled at him, he returned it 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 43 
 
 with such force as to throw him off the saddle to the 
 distance of twelve cubits, and broke his ribs and 
 snapped his spine. In another encounter he smites 
 his doughty antagonist with his irresistible sword 
 Dhami — a blade which may be compared with Mor- 
 glay, Excalibar, Durandal, Balmung, Gram, Chrysaor, 
 and others famed in European romance — cleaving both 
 him and his horse to the ground, so that they fell 
 each in two halves. 
 
 In the romance of Merlin (Part II.), King Arthur 
 obtains his renowned sword Excalibar in this way : 
 A miraculous stone was discovered before the church- 
 door, and in the stone was firmly fixed a sword with 
 these words engraved on its hilt : 
 
 Ich am y-hote [called] Excalibore ; 
 
 Unto a king fair treasure. 
 
 (On Inglis is this writing), 
 
 Kerve steel, and yren, and al thing. 
 
 It was made law, that whoever should be able to draw 
 oub that sword from the stone, should be at once 
 acknowledged as sovereign of Britain. Many strong 
 and bold knights attempted to withdraw the sword 
 in vain: at length Arthur came forward, and being 
 at the time in want of a trusty blade, drew it forth 
 with perfect ease. This incident seems to have been 
 adapted from the (Korse) Volsung Tale. '' The 
 Volsungs,’’ says Dr Dasent, '' traced themselves back, 
 like all heroes, to Odin, the great father of gods and 
 men. From him sprang Sigi, from him Volsung. In 
 the centre of his hall grew an oak, the tall trunk of 
 
44 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 which passed through the roof, and its boughs spread 
 far and wide in upper air. Into that hall, on a high 
 feast day, when Signy, Volsung’s daughter, was to be 
 given away to Siggeir, King of Gothland, strode an 
 old one-eyed guest. His feet were bare, his hose were 
 of knitted linen ; he wore a great striped cloak and 
 a broad flapping hat. In his hand he bare a great 
 sword, which, at one stroke, he buried up to the hilt 
 in the oak-trunk. ' There,’ said he, ' let him of all 
 this company bear this sword who is man enough to 
 pull it out. I give it him, and none shall say he ever 
 wore a better blade.’ With these words he passed out 
 of the hall, and was seen no more. Many tried, for 
 that sword was plainly a thing of price, but none 
 could stir it, till Sigmund, the best and bravest of 
 Volsung’s sons, tried his hand, and lo ! the weapon 
 yielded itself at once. That was the famous blade 
 Gram.” ^ 
 
 It is, to say the least, exceedingly curious to And a 
 somewhat similar legend related in the Talmud re- 
 garding the manner in which Moses, the Hebrew law- 
 giver, became possessed of his famous rod — the same 
 with which he divided the waters of the Eed Sea and 
 smote the rock in the wilderness, causing a stream of 
 pure water to flow forth. According to the rabbinical 
 narrative, this wondrous staff was created on the sixth 
 
 ^ Dasent’s ^Popular Tales from the Norse’ — Introd. pp. Ixi, Ixii. 
 In the ‘ Saga of Gisli, the Outlaw,’ we read of another famous blade 
 that would bite whatever its blow fell upon, be it iron or aught 
 else ; nor could its edge be deadened by spells, for it was forged by 
 the Dwarfs, and its name is Graysteel.” — Dr Dasent’s Translation. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 45 
 
 day and given to Adam while yet in Paradise. Adam 
 bequeathed it to Enoch, who gave it to Shem, the 
 eldest son of Noah, from whom it descended to Isaac 
 and Jacob. It was by the help of this staff that Jacob 
 crossed the Jordan, and he took it with him to Egypt. 
 Before his death he presented it to Joseph, at whose 
 death it was taken, with the rest of his property, to 
 Pharaoh’s treasury, where Jethro, then one of the 
 royal magicians, at once recognised its secret qualities, 
 and on quitting the Egyptian court to settle in the 
 land of Midian, he took it with him, and planted it in 
 his garden^ where no person was able to approach it, 
 until the arrival of Moses, who had fled thither after 
 slaying the insolent Egyptian, and having read the 
 mystical words on the staff, pulled it out of the ground 
 with ease. 
 
 The hero of chivalric romance is always possessed of 
 a wonderful steed and a sword which nothing can re- 
 sist. Eustam, the Persian champion of antiquity, had 
 a horse called Eaksh (lightning), with which, like some 
 European heroes, he often conversed confldentially. 
 The steed of Easaki, the hero of the Panjab, warned 
 him at a crisis not to touch him with whip or spur. 
 Antar’s horse Abjer was '' dark-coloured, beautiful, 
 and compact ; of the race much prized by the Arabs ; 
 his hoofs were as flat as the beaten coin ; his ears like 
 quills; when, he neighed he seemed as if about to 
 speak.” His sword Dhami (which signifies “ sub- 
 duing”) was forged out of a thunderbolt that had 
 fallen and killed a camel. When it was finished, the 
 
46 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 chief who had employed the smith to forge it took the 
 sword in his hand and asked him, What name have 
 you given it ? The smith replied : 
 
 The sword is sharp, 0 son of the tribe of Ghalib, 
 
 Sharp indeed ; but where is the striker for the sword '? 
 
 Then the chief waved the sword, saying, ''As for the 
 smiter — I am the smiter ! ” and struck off the black- 
 smith’s head. The sword Dhami descended from 
 father to son, till the last possessor on his death-bed 
 called his youngest son, and bade him privily hide it 
 in the earth, so that it should not be seized with the 
 rest of the family property by his grasping tyrannical 
 brother. The youth hid the sword accordingly in the 
 desert ; but on the death of the chief, his elder son 
 threatened to slay his brother if he did not deliver it 
 up to him. They went together to the place, but the 
 youth could not find it, and his brother drew his sword 
 and would have slain him had not Antar opportunely 
 arrived, and learning the cause of the quarrel, attacked 
 and killed the tyrant, after which he sent the youth 
 away. Then sitting down to rest himself, he was 
 playing with the sand, when he came on a stone, 
 which he removed, and lo ! there lay the sword Dhami 
 which the youth had sought in vain. 
 
 Single combats between the champions of opposing 
 armies are not only common in Asiatic as well as 
 European romances, but seem to have been customary 
 in actual warfare from the most remote times; and 
 the historical books of the Bible furnish several in- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 47 
 
 stances. The combat between David and Goliath 
 (1 Samuel xvii. 38-51) is a memorable example, and 
 the battle between the men of Abner and the men of 
 Joab (2 Samuel ii. 15, 16) is another. Such combats 
 are of very frequent occurrence in the Eomance of 
 Antar, and, as in the European romances, the opposing 
 champions invariably address each other in haughty 
 tones. Thus Antar exclaims, when about to en- 
 counter the Greek champion, '' I will break down 
 the support of Greece from its foundations ; I v/ill 
 sever Badramiit’s head with my scimitar ! I am he 
 whose might is uncontrollable in battle : I am of the 
 race of Abs, the valiant lion of the cavern ! ’’ In like 
 strain does a hero of the ^ Shah Nama ’ (Book of Kings) 
 of Eirdausi, the Homer of Persia, vaunt himself : 
 
 I am myself Hujer, 
 
 The valiant champion, come to conquer thee, 
 
 And to lop off that towering head of thine. 
 
 Come to me,” said Goliath to David, '' and I will 
 give thy flesh to the fowls of the air and to the beasts 
 of the field.” 
 
 It would appear, from the minute description of the 
 arms and armour of the combatants in the Eomance of 
 Antar, that chivalry, in all essential particulars, was 
 an institution in the East long before it was regularly 
 established in Europe. The Persian satrap whom 
 Antar encounters and slays is described as encased in 
 a complete suit of mail “ of Davidean workmanship,” ^ 
 
 ^ In the celebrated ^ Burda,’ or Mantle- Poem, of Kadb the son of 
 
48 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 with plumed helmet, and armed with sword, mace, 
 shield, etc., precisely like European knights. Nor can 
 knight-errantry be said to have been unknown to 
 Asiatic chivalry. Oriental historians mention a Per- 
 sian knight who was surnamed Eezm Kha — one who 
 goes in quest of adventures ; ’’ and two famous Arabian 
 knights-errant, one named Abii Muhammed El-Batal, 
 who wandered everywhere in search of adventures 
 and redressing grievances, and who was killed a.d. 
 738 (a.h. 121); and the other a great-grandson of the 
 Khalif Abu Bekr, named Jaafar Es-Sadik, a man 
 eminent for his piety and extensive knowledge, as 
 well as for his feats of arms, who died in the reign of 
 Al-Mansur, a.d. 764 (a.h. 147). 
 
 The rescue of distressed and imprisoned damsels 
 is often accomplished by Antar. When the Bedouin 
 hero is journeying to Mecca, accompanied by his half- 
 brother Shibub, they heard, in the calmness of night, 
 a female voice crying out, evidently in sore distress ; 
 upon which Antar slackens his bridle and gallops in 
 the direction whence proceeded the cries. He dis- 
 covers a lady, who informs him that she is of the 
 noble tribe of Kenda; her husband is As-hath, the 
 son of Obed. A famine having visited their land, 
 
 Zuhayr, recited by him before Muhammed, at Medina, in the 9th 
 year of the Hijra (a.d. 629-30), afber the conquest of Mecca, the 
 warriors of the tribe of Kuraysh are described as “ aquiline - nosed 
 heroes ; whose clothing, in combat, is of shirts of the tissue of David 
 — bright and ample, interlaced with links like the tendrils of the 
 KaM plant, firmly wove together;” — that is to say, coats of mail. 
 According to Arab tradition, David the Hebrew king was divinely 
 taught, and very skilful, in the manufacture of link armour. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 49 
 
 they were proceeding with their family to the country 
 of Harith, where they intended to settle, having a 
 daughter married there, when they were attacked by 
 a horseman of the desert, Sudam, the son of Salheb, 
 with forty plundering Arabs, who had slain her three 
 sons, wounded her husband, and taken herself and 
 her three daughters captive; and that the brigands 
 were about to convey them to the mountains of 
 Tawayla, there to sell them as slaves. Consigning the 
 ladies to the care of his brother, Antar grasps his 
 spear, and turns to meet Sudam and his followers, 
 whom he now sees hastily advancing towards him. 
 The hero is assailed by several brigands at once, but 
 he cuts them down on either side, and at length 
 encounters Sudam, and striking him on the breast 
 with his cleaving Dhami, the chief falls to the ground 
 dead, weltering in his blood. The three damsels and 
 their mother crowd round their deliverer, kissing his 
 hands and thanking him for having saved them from 
 dishonour; and Antar, desiring the damsels to veil 
 themselves, and having bound up the old shaykh’s 
 wounds, sat down to rest himself after the fatigue 
 of his combats. The old shaykh, grateful for the 
 good service rendered his family by Antar, offers him 
 his choice of his three daughters, but the hero cour- 
 teously declines the compliment, saying to the dam- 
 sels, ''Were my heart my own, I should desire nothing 
 beyond you — it would covet nothing but you. But 
 it loves what tortures it; where no word, no deed, 
 encourages it.” Never was European knight more 
 VOL. I. 
 
 D 
 
50 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND PICTIONS. 
 
 “ solicitous in the cause of women ’’ than the Bedouin 
 hero : when he rescued the tribe of Mazin, and learned 
 that Oosack and his followers were plundering the 
 women’s quarter, he rushed with his warriors upon 
 the dastards, scattering them to the right and left : 
 ''mighty was every act, and fate descended among 
 them.” It is certain that European chivalry owed 
 much to the Arabs ; and that many scenes and 
 incidents from 'Antar’ and other Arabian romances 
 were appropriated by the early Spanish authors of 
 similar works, which they had derived from their 
 Moorish conquerors ; and we may fairly consider 
 'Antar’ as the prototype of European romances of 
 chivalry.^ 
 
 To return, after this long digression, to the subject 
 of the origin and diffusion of popular tales. Mr 
 Ealston has justly remarked that an unfamiliar joke 
 is rarely met with in the lower strata of fiction. The 
 same jests which amuse the Eussian or Norwegian 
 peasant are also well known to the vine-dressers of 
 Erance and Spain, and to the Italian rustic ; to the 
 half - farmer - half - fisherman of Argyllshire ; to the 
 wandering Arab ; to the luxurious Persian ; to the 
 peaceable Hindu ; to the crafty Chinese. Who has 
 not heard of the Irishman who looked over the 
 shoulder of a gentleman while he was writing a letter 
 in a coffee-house, and when the gentleman concluded 
 with the words, " I have much more to say to you, 
 
 ^ For some account of the Romance of Antar, see the Note at the 
 end of this introductory paper. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 51 
 
 but an impudent Irishman is reading every word 
 I write,” the Irishman exclaimed, ''Upon my sowl, 
 I haven’t read a word, sorr ! ” This was told many 
 centuries ago in the ' Baharistan ’ of the Persian poet 
 Jami: A learned man being annoyed while writing 
 a letter to one of his confidential friends at the 
 conduct of a person who, seated at his side, glanced 
 out of the corner of his eye at his letter, wrote : " Had 
 not a hireling thief been seated at my side and engaged 
 in reading my letter, I should have written to thee all 
 my secrets.” The man said, "By Allah, my lord, I 
 have neither read nor even looked at thy letter.” 
 " Fool,” exclaimed the other, " how canst thou, then, 
 say what thou now sayest ? ” 
 
 Another familiar jest is that of the " pragmatical 
 young fellow” who, sitting at a table opposite "the 
 learned John Scott,” asked him, " What difference 
 is there between Scot and Sot ? ” to which he replied, 
 " Just the breadth of the table.” ^ This also occurs 
 in Gladwin’s ' Persian Moonshee ’ and several Indian 
 collections of facetiae: An indigent poet paid a visit 
 to a rich man, and seated himself so near that there was 
 not more distance than a span between them. Offended 
 thereat, the rich man asked him, "What difference is 
 there between you and an ass ? ” He answered, " The 
 measure of one span.” 
 
 The well-known story of the " natural ” who ate 
 a leg of a fowl intended for the laird’s dinner may 
 have been taken from Boccaccio’s ' Decameron,’ Day 
 ^ ‘A Collection of Jests, Epigrams, Epitaphs,’ &c. Edinburgh : 1753. 
 
52 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 vi., novel 4. In our version the fool, on being accused 
 of the theft, asserted that a fowl had only one leg, 
 \ and being desired to prove this, he led the laird to 
 a shed, where a number of fowls were standing with 
 one leg tucked up, as is usual with fowls in wet 
 weather ; and when the laird cried, '' Shooh ! shooh ! ” 
 the fowls all set down their legs. “Had you cried 
 ‘ shooh ! ’ to your hen,” quoth the fool, “ doubtless it 
 would also have put down its other leg ! ” In Boc- 
 caccio it is a crane, a leg of which the cook had given 
 to his sweetheart. It reappears in ' Tarlton's Hewes 
 out of Purgatorie,’ under the title of “The Tale of a 
 Cook, and why he sat in Purgatorie with a Crane’s 
 Leg in his Mouth.” 
 
 One of the practical jokes of “the man who was 
 called Howleglass ” (a translation made about 1550, of 
 the German jests of Tyl Eulenspiegel) is his exhibit- 
 ing “a strange animal which hath its head placed 
 where its tail ought to be.” This is found also in 
 Gladwin’s ‘ Persian Moonshee ’ : A very poor man 
 who had a horse, tied him in the stable with his head 
 towards the part where it is usual to place the tail. 
 He then proclaimed abroad, “ 0 ye people ! come and 
 see a strange sight, a horse with his head where his 
 tail ought to be ! ” All the people of the city crowded 
 together, and from every one who wished to see the 
 show he exacted a small piece of money, and gave 
 them admittance ; and they who went into the stable 
 came back and said nothing. In the German version 
 it is said : “ As fast as they came in and found how 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 53 
 
 wittily they had been deceived, they could not help 
 laughing at the hoax, in which Howleglass joining, 
 earnestly entreated them not to ruin his fortunes, and 
 let those who had not paid laugh at them, by telling 
 the secret to the townspeople on the outside. This 
 they all promised, and as soon as they got home 
 each advised his neighbour to go and see the great 
 sight.’’ 
 
 In 'Archie Armstrong’s Banquet of Jests’ is the 
 following anecdote, which had long before been cur- 
 rent in Europe : A fellow with one eye, being abroad 
 about his business, his wife in his absence entertained 
 her lover. But it so happened that her husband came 
 home, and entered the room before the loving couple 
 expected him. At whose presence the woman, greatly 
 alarmed, rose up, and running to her husband, clapped 
 her hand on the eye he could see with, saying, " Hus- 
 band, I dreamt just now that you could see as well 
 with the other eye as with this ; pray tell me.” Mean- 
 while her friend slipped out of doors. — This occurs in 
 the ' Gesta Eomanorum,’ ch. cxxi. ; and it is the eighth 
 tale of Peter Alfonsus, where a vine-dresser wounds 
 one of his eyes while working in the vineyard. In the 
 meantime his wife is engaged with her gallant. On 
 the husband’s return, she contrives the lover’s escape 
 by kissing her spouse on the other eye. The story is 
 also in the novels of Malespini (i. 44), and of Bandello 
 (i. 23) ; in the ' Heptameron ’ of Margaret Queen of 
 Navarre, who probably borrowed it from the first tale 
 of tliQfaUiau of the " Mauvaise Femme ” (Le Grand, iv. 
 
54 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 138, ed. 1781); and in the ‘Elites de Contes’ of the 
 Sieur d’Ouville (Eouen, 1680, p. 284). 
 
 From Alfonsus the incident was probably adapted 
 by the author of the old romance of ‘ Eurialus and Lu- 
 cretia ’ : The hero, Eurialus, is equerry to the Emperor 
 Sigismundus, and the paramour of Lucretia, wife of the 
 Senator Menelai. “ One night, as he was at supper, 
 the senator came in unexpectedly, and must have dis- 
 covered Eurialus, had not Lucretia’s wonted presence 
 of mind saved him and herself from that disgrace. 
 She went out to meet her husband, who had already 
 got as far as the landing-place, and loaded him with the 
 most tender reproaches for having left her to eat her 
 supper alone. In vain did he protest to her that he 
 had not eaten a morsel that day ; she was not to be 
 pacified, and falling on his neck, she bedewed the dear 
 man with her tears. The senator, pleased at so rare 
 an instance of her love, kissed off her tears, and com- 
 forted his loving wife in the most soothing language. 
 Lucretia acted the farce long enough to give Eurialus 
 time to get out at the window ; then walking into the 
 room arm in arm with her cara sposa, they sat down 
 lovingly to supper.” ^ 
 
 The original occurs in the Sanskrit book of tales 
 and apologues, entitled ‘ Hitopadesa ’ (Friendly Coun- 
 sel), Book i. fable 6 : In the province of Gaur there is 
 a city called Kausambi. In it dwelt an opulent mer- 
 chant named Chandanadasa. Being in the last stage 
 of life, with his mind swayed by desire, he married a 
 
 ^ ‘ Bibliotheque Universelle des Romans.’ 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 55 
 
 merchant’s daughter named Lilavati. She was young, 
 resembling the victorious banner of Makara-Keta ; con- 
 sequently her aged partner was not to her liking. Still 
 the old husband was dotingly fond of her. Now Lila- 
 vati, through the impetuosity of youth, violating the 
 honour of her family, became enamoured of a certain 
 merchant’s son. One day Lilavati was sitting at her 
 ease in familiar chat with the merchant’s son, on a 
 couch variegated with the lustre of strings of jewels, 
 when, seeing her husband, who had approached unob- 
 served, she rose up with precipitation, caught him by 
 the hair, and vehemently embracing, kissed him. Mean- 
 while the gallant rose and escaped. 
 
 ''Every schoolboy” knows the story of the block- ^ 
 head who complained to the judge of being annoyed 
 with flies, and being told that he was at liberty to 
 strike them wherever he saw them, observing a big 
 " blue bottle ” alight on the judge’s nose, delivered a 
 blow with his flst on that useful member, and smashed 
 it as well as the fly. This is also told of Giufa, the 
 typical noodle of Sicily, in Pitre’s collection ; and we 
 have a different version of the incident in the Ice- 
 landic Tale of a Butter-Tub : An old woman, having 
 privily eaten a whole tub of butter intended for use 
 in winter, her husband was surprised to find the tub 
 empty, and asked her if she knew how it had hap- 
 pened. Just then the old wife saw a big fly which 
 had got into the open barrel, and she said, " Ah, there 
 comes the wretched thief ! Look here — this hateful 
 fly has doubtless eaten all our butter from the tub.” 
 
56 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 This, the old man thought, must be true, and ran off 
 for the big hammer with which he used to beat his 
 dried fish, and would break the skull of the fly. He 
 shut the door of the cottage, that the fly should not 
 get out, and now chased the fly all over the place, 
 knocking and beating at it, but never hitting save his 
 own furniture and household chattels, which he broke 
 to pieces. At last the old man, being tired, sat down 
 in fury and despair. But then the fly came and sat 
 on his nose. Then the carl 'begged his wife to kill 
 the fly, and said, Make haste, while it sits on the 
 nose ! ” — which since has passed into a common say- 
 ing. The old woman lifted up the hammer with all 
 her might, and thumped it on the old man’s nose, 
 and broke his skull so well that he was dead on the 
 spot; but the fly escaped with unbroken skull. It 
 is unscathed yet. But the old woman is still wailing 
 over her carl.^ The incident seems to be of Buddhist 
 origin, being found in two different forms in the 
 ‘ Jatakas,’ or Birth-Stories, Nos. 44 and 45. In the 
 former, a lad takes an axe to kill some mosquitoes 
 that had alighted on his father’s bald head, and 
 cleaves the old man’s skull. The other is as follows : 
 A slave girl, named Eohini, was once pounding rice, 
 when her aged mother came to the place and sat 
 down. The flie^ came about her, and bit her as if 
 they were running needles into her. She said to her 
 
 ^ ‘ Icelandic Legends.’ Collected by Jon Arnason. Translated by 
 George E. J. Powell and Eirikr Magnusson. Second Series. London : 
 1866. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 57 
 
 daughter, My girl, the flies are biting me ; drive 
 them off.” She said, I will, mother ; ” and raising 
 the pestle, thinking, '' I will kill and destroy the flies 
 on my mother’s body,” struck her mother with the 
 pestle, and killed her on the spot. Seeing that, she 
 began to cry, '' 0 mother ! mother ! ” ^ 
 
 The really original tales in our collections of facetiae 
 are indeed but few. '' In genuine home-grown humour,” 
 says Mr W. Carew Hazlitt, ^English literature is by 
 no means wealthy. We shine indeed, but it is with 
 a borrowed light, j Our jest-books are little beyond 
 various readings to the Poggiana and other great 
 stores of facetiae; and if we should take away from 
 the ' Hundred Mery Talys ’ and its successors what 
 is merely imported matter, it is to be feared that the 
 residue would be compressible into a very slender 
 compass. There is scarcely a story which has not 
 been told over and over again, with the change only 
 of name, place, and circumstance. The germ and 
 
 ^ Translations from the Pali of ‘ J^takas ’ 41-50, by the Lord Bishop 
 of Colombo ; in the ‘ Transactions ’ of the Royal Asiatic Society, 
 Ceylon Branch. This is one of the Buddhist tales which have been 
 adapted by the Brdhmans : In the First Book of the ‘ Panchatantra, 
 a prince sets his pet monkey to watch over him as he sleeps in a 
 pavilion in his garden ; a troublesome bee settles on the prince’s face, 
 in spite of the monkey’s pains to drive it oflp, till the monkey, highly 
 incensed, snatches up his master’s sword, and making a blow at the 
 bee, cuts off the prince’s head. The apologue is reproduced in the 
 ‘ Anvdir-i-Suhayli ’ (Lights of Canopus), a Persian version, by Husain 
 VaTz, of the Fables of Bidpai, and the modern Hindustani version of 
 the Persian work, by Abu-’l Fazel, ‘ Ay^r-i-Danish ’ (Touchstone of 
 Knowledge), under the title of “ The Gardener, the Bear, and the 
 Fly.” In this form it is an old European acquaintance. 
 
58 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 spirit are identical. Even the good things which the 
 contemporaries of Sydney Smith applauded in that 
 excellent man are in many cases discoverable in works 
 which it is more probable than otherwise that he had 
 read.” And Mr J. 0. Halliwell-Phillipps’ remark is 
 to the same purpose : “ Nothing is more uncertain 
 than the attribution of ‘jests’ to persons who have 
 made themselves famous as wits, and we are occa- 
 sionally favoured in the public prints with anecdotes 
 concerning men of our own times that have long been 
 familiar to us in slightly different forms in jest-books 
 of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.” 
 
 Among the anecdotes told of Foote is this : Dining 
 at Paris with Lord Stormont, the host descanted volu- 
 bly on the age of his wine, which was served in very 
 diminutive glasses. Foote, holding up his glass, said, 
 “ It is very little of its age.” In Taylor’s ‘ Wit and 
 Mirth ’ {temp, J ames I. of England), the story is thus 
 told : “A proper gentlewoman went to speak with a 
 rich mizer that had more gowt than good manners. 
 At her taking leave, hee requested her to taste a cup 
 of Canara. Shee (contrary to his expectation) tooke 
 him at his word, and thanked him. He commanded 
 Jeffrey Starveling his man to wash a glasse, and fill it 
 to the gentlewoman. Honest Jeffrey fil’d a great 
 glasse about the bigness of the Taylors thimbles, and 
 gave it to his master, who kist it to save cost, and 
 gave it to the gentlewoman, saying that it was good 
 Canara of six yeeres old at the least ; to whom shee 
 answered (seeing the quantitie so small) : ‘ Sir, as you 
 
V 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 59 
 
 requested me, I have tasted your wine ; but I wonder 
 that it should be so little being of so great an age.’ ” 
 This was probably adapted from Lucian, who tells how 
 a lover brought his mistress a very small cask of wine, 
 which he warmly commended as very choice and old, 
 upon which she said drily : “ It is very little of its 
 age.” The story is also told by Athenaeus. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, according to the tradition, once 
 asked Sir Walter Ealeigh whether he could tell the 
 weight of smoke, and he at once undertook to do so. 
 Having smoked a pipe of tobacco, he carefully weighed 
 the ashes, and already knowing the weight of the 
 tobacco, he informed the queen that the difference was 
 the weight of the smoke. Ealeigh may have imitated 
 the philosopher in Lucian’s story : Some one, think- 
 ing to puzzle Demonax, asked him, 'If I burn a 
 thousand pounds of fuel, how many pounds of it go 
 into smoke?’ 'Weigh the ashes,’ he replied, 'and all 
 the residue must be smoke.’ ” 
 
 Laird Braco, an ancestor of the Earls of Fife, was a 
 very avaricious man. One day a tenant, who called 
 upon him to pay his rent, happened to be deficient a 
 single farthing. The amount could not be excused, 
 and the farmer had to seek the farthing. When the 
 business was adjusted, the farmer said to the laird, 
 " Now, Braco, I would gie ye a shilling for a sight of 
 a’ the gowd and siller ye hae.” "Weel, man,” said 
 Braco, " it sail no cost ye ony mair,” and accordingly, 
 having first received and pocketed the shilling, the 
 laird exhibited several iron boxes filled with gold 
 
60 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 and silver coin. “ Now,” said the farmer, I’m as 
 rich as yourseh, Braco.” “Ay, man,” quoth Braco, 
 '' how can that be ? ” '' Because I’ve sem it, and you 
 
 can do nae mair.” — A very similar story is current 
 among the Chinese : A rich priest had hoarded a fine 
 collection of jewels, to which he was constantly adding, 
 and of which he was inordinately proud. Upon show- 
 ing them one day to a friend, the latter feasted his 
 eyes for some time, and on taking his leave thanked 
 his host for the jewels. '' How ? ” cries the priest ; '' I 
 have not given them to you. Why do you thank 
 me?” ‘"Well,” replied his friend, “I have at least 
 had as much pleasure from seeing them as you can 
 have, and the only difference between us, that I 
 can see, is that you have the trouble of collecting 
 them.” ^ 
 
 And this is another well-worn jest which has also 
 its parallel in China : Two fellows meeting, one asked 
 the other why he looked so sad. '' I have good reason 
 for it,” said the other; ^'poor Jack such-a-one, the 
 greatest crony and friend I had in the world, was 
 hanged but two days ago.” '' What had he done ? ” 
 said the first. '' Alas ! ” replied the other, “ he did no 
 more than you or I should have done on the like 
 occasion : he found a bridle on the road, and took it 
 up.” What ! ” says the other, hang a man for tak- 
 ing a bridle ! That’s hard indeed.” '' To tell the 
 truth of the matter,” says the other, '' there was a 
 
 ^ ‘ Folk-Lore in China,|and its affinities with that of the Aryan and 
 Semitic Races.’ By M. B. Dennys. Hong-Kong : 1876. P.151. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 61 
 
 horse tied to the other end of — The Chinese tell 
 the story thus : A man was condemned to the cangue 
 [a kind of portable pillory], and some of his friends 
 seeing him asked him the cause of his punishment. 
 He said to them, '' As I happened to go along a road 
 I saw a little cord on the ground ; thinking it might be 
 useful for something, I took it and went away. That 
 is the cause of my misfortune.'’ His friends replied, 
 “ Never has the theft of a cord led any one to such a 
 torture." The thief said, '' It is true there was some- 
 thing at the end of the cord." They asked him 
 what it was, and he replied, '' It was only two little 
 plough-oxen." 2 
 
 The absurd decisions of judges or magistrates seem 
 to have been favourite subjects of popular jests from 
 remote times. In the Talmud the judges of the city 
 of Sodom are represented as mockers and perverters 
 of justice : A man having cut off the ear of his 
 neighbour's ass, the judge said to the owner, ''Let him 
 have the ass till the ear is grown again, that it may 
 be returned to thee as thou wishest." But it is not 
 unlikely that the Talmudists produced stories of 
 Asiatic Dogberries which had been current long before 
 their days, and foisted them on the people of Sodom. 
 However this may be, the sage decree finds a parallel 
 in the ' Katha Sarit Sagara : ' A washerman com- 
 
 ^ ‘ A Collection of Jests, Epigrams, Epitaphs,’ &c. Edinburgh : 
 1753. 
 
 ^ “ Contes et Bon Mots, extraits d’un livre chinois, intitule ‘ Sias li 
 Siao,’ traduit par M. Stanislas Julien,” in the ‘Journal Asiatique,’ 
 tome iv., 1824. 
 
62 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 plained before a magistrate that the wife of a Brah- 
 man had beaten his donkey, and the animal, in running 
 away, had fallen into a pit and broken its hoof. On 
 the other side, the Brahman accused the washerman of 
 having assaulted his wife, and thereby caused her to 
 miscarry. The magistrate ruled: “Since the donkey’s 
 hoof is broken, let the Brahman carry the donkey’s 
 load till it is again fit for work ; and let the washerman 
 keep the Brahman’s wife till she is in the condition she 
 was in before he beat her.” — The Persian tale of the 
 Kazi of Emessa (the leading incident of which is the 
 “pound of flesh” of Shakspeare’s Shylock) furnishes 
 similar examples of judicial wisdom. The people of 
 that town (now called Hums) being noted for their 
 stupidity — in popular stories, at all events — it is the 
 Gotham of the East. Among other cases brought 
 before the kazi in this story, a man complained that 
 the merchant in helping him to extricate his ass out 
 of the mud, in which it had stuck fast, had pulled off* 
 its tail. “ Well,” says the kazi, “ fetch my ass, and let 
 the man pull off its tail.” The animal was brought 
 accordingly, and the man exerted all his strength to 
 avenge the insult which had been put upon his 
 favourite. But an ass that had carried the kazi was 
 not likely to put up with such an indignity, and soon 
 testified his resentment by several hearty kicks, which 
 made the man faint. When he recovered he begged 
 leave to decline any further satisfaction ; but the kazi 
 said it was a pity he should not have his revenge, and 
 he might take his own time. But the more he pulled 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 63 
 
 the harder the vicious animal kicked, till at last the 
 poor man, all bruises and blood, declared that he had 
 accused the merchant falsely, for his own ass never 
 had a tail. Then the judge mulcted him in 100 
 dinars. Another man accused the merchant of having 
 thrown a stone at his runaway mule, and knocked out 
 one of his eyes, thus reducing the value of the mule 
 by one-half — before it lost its eye the mule was worth 
 1000 dirhams. '' This is a very simple case,” said the 
 judge ; '' take a saw, cut the mule in two, give him the 
 blind half, for which he must pay you 500 dirhams, 
 and keep the other side to yourself.” But the man 
 objected to this suggestion, and was therefore fined in 
 100 dinars. Then two young men came forward and 
 accused the merchant of having jumped from the roof 
 of a house on to the street below, where there was a 
 commotion, and lighting on their father, had killed 
 him on the spot. The kazi asked them whether they 
 thought the roof of the court-house was about the 
 height of the house that the merchant jumped from. 
 They replied that they thought it was ; upon which 
 the kazi decreed that the merchant should go to sleep 
 on the ground, and that they should get upon the roof 
 and jump down upon him : and that, as the right of 
 blood belonged to them equally, they must take care 
 to jump both at once. They accordingly went upon 
 the roof ; but when they looked below they felt alarmed 
 at the height, and so came down again, declaring that 
 if they had ten lives they could not expect to escape. 
 The kazi said he could not help that : they had de- 
 
64 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 manded retaliation, and retaliation they should have ; 
 but he could not alter the law to please them. So 
 they gave up their claim, but the kazi mulcted them 
 also in the sum of 100 dinars. This last incident 
 is often found in our own jest-books, thus : A Flem- 
 ish tyler accidentally fell from the top of a house upon 
 a Spaniard and killed him, though he escaped himself. 
 The next of blood prosecuted his death with great 
 violence against the tyler, and when offered pecuniary 
 recompense, nothing could serve him but lex talionis. 
 Hereupon the judge said to him, if he did insist upon 
 that sentence, he should go up to the top of the same 
 house, and fall down from thence upon the tyler.^ In 
 another version, a tailor, looking at two drunken fel- 
 lows fighting in the street, fell out of the window and 
 killed an old man, whose son caused him to be appre- 
 hended on a charge of murder. When the trial came 
 on, the jury could not bring in a verdict of wilful 
 murder, neither could they acquit him; so they re- 
 ferred the case to the judges, who in their turn referred 
 it to the king ; and the king asked George Buchanan’s 
 opinion, who said that the tailor should stand below 
 and let the old man’s son fall on him.^ 
 
 Thus many of the tales in our jest-books, which 
 are generally believed to be racy of the soil,” and 
 many of the “ good things ” ascribed to wits of recent 
 times, are also current as genuine in other countries 
 
 ^ ‘A Collection of Jests, Epigrams, Epitaphs,’ &c. Edinburgh : 1753. 
 
 2 ‘ The Witty and Entertaining Exploits of George Buchanan, 
 commonly called the King’s Fool.’ Leith; 1705. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 65 
 
 of Europe, and winged their way from the Far East 
 ages before Joe Miller ” became, what it purports to 
 be, ' The Wits’ Vade Mecum.’ Perhaps the best jest 
 in that popular jest-book is the name of Joe Miller 
 on its title-page. It is a common practice in most 
 countries to prefix to a new collection of old jokes the 
 name of some man who was famed for his wit in his 
 day and generation, and to credit him with clever or 
 amusing things which he never did or said : as in the 
 case of the Italian ecclesiastic Arlotto ; the German 
 arch -rogue Tyl Eulenspiegel ; our English Skelton, 
 George Peele, Dick Tarlton, and Archie Armstrong ; 
 the Turkish Khoja Kasr-ed-Din Efendi; and the 
 Indian Temal Eamakistnan, the Scogin of Madras. 
 But it is said that Joe Miller, albeit a comedian by 
 profession, was utterly incapable of making an '' orig- 
 inal” joke — that he was, in fact, a man of somewhat 
 saturnine disposition: but no matter; the jest-book 
 which has immortalised his name — which his stage 
 career could never have done for him — contains some 
 of the most diverting tales that are to be found in our 
 own or any other language, although he had no more 
 a hand in its compilation than he had in that of the 
 Talmud ! 
 
 The prototypes of — or, at least, parallels to — most 
 European tales of the Gothamite class have been 
 discovered, within quite recent years, in the ' Jatakas’ 
 and other Buddhist works.^ It would probably be 
 
 ^ I have made a comprehensive collection of Stories of Noodledom, 
 Asiatic as well as European, which is designed, like the present work, 
 
66 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 going too far, however, to maintain that all such tales 
 are of Buddhist invention. There must have existed 
 in India, both orally and in writing, a great mass of 
 stories and fables before the promulgation of Gau- 
 tama’s doctrines ; and if the Brahmans in later ages 
 drew largely from the literary compositions of their 
 enemies, perhaps they were, in some instances, only 
 taking back their own. Nevertheless, there can be 
 no doubt that Buddhist literature is peculiarly rich 
 in original tales, apologues, and parables, which owe 
 nothing to the fictions of the earlier Hindus. , 
 
 But while most of the popular tales of Europe 
 are traceable to ancient Indian sources, and the be- 
 lief has been long general among scholars that India 
 was the cradle-land of science and literature, the 
 opinion is daily gaining ground that Egypt, not India, 
 was the actual centre from which both the East and 
 the West derived their civilisation. It cannot be 
 denied that there is much more certainty respecting 
 ancient dates in connection with Egyptian history 
 than there is regarding those of any other country ; 
 while on the subject of dates all through India, be- 
 fore the time of Alexander’s conquest, there is a very 
 inconvenient vagueness. But in Egyptian history we 
 have absolute dates for thousands of years before 
 Christ. The researches of modern Egyptologists have 
 resulted in surprising and most important discoveries, 
 both in monumental inscriptions and in papyri ; and 
 
 to illustrate the curious migrations of popular fictions ; published 
 by Mr Elliot Stock, London : 1886, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 67 
 
 when the manuscripts recently unearthed in Egypt 
 have been carefully examined by competent scholars, 
 new facts may be brought to light, to upset some of 
 our present theories as to the origin and diffusion of 
 literature and science.^ That the Indian 'Vedas’ and 
 the grand epics ' Eamayana ’ and ' Mahabharata ’ are 
 very old — though certainly not of such high antiquity 
 as was claimed for them by Sir William Jones and 
 other Sanskritists in the last century — is generally ad- 
 mitted by those best qualified to judge, but their date 
 is not positively ascertained. In Egyptian literature, 
 however, there is preserved among the papyri in the 
 British Museum a romance, or fairy tale, of singular 
 interest, of two brothers Anapii and Satii, — the first 
 part of which presents a parallel to the Biblical in- 
 cident of Joseph and the wife of Potiphar — which 
 was composed in the fourteenth century before Christ, 
 when Pharaoh Eamses Miamun, founder of Pithom 
 
 ^ “ We know,” says Sir Richard F. Burton, “that the apologue, the 
 beast-fable proper, is neither Indian nor Esopic ; to mention no 
 others, the ^ Lion and the Mouse ’ is told in a Leyden papyrus. . . . 
 From the Nile banks it was but a step to Phoenicia and Asia Minor, 
 and thence, with the alphabet, the fable went to Greece ; while east- 
 ward it found a new centre of civilisation in Babylonia and Assyria, 
 lacking, however, the alphabet. When the two great sources were 
 connected by Alexander of Macedon, who completed what Sesostris 
 and Semiramis had begun ; when the Medo-Bactrian kingdom was 
 founded, and when the Greeks took moral possession of Persia under 
 the Selucides, then the fable would find its way to India, doubtless 
 meeting there some rude and fantastic kinsman of Buddhistic ‘ per- 
 suasion.’ The mingling of blood would produce a fine robust race, 
 and after the second century (a.d.) Indian stories spread over the 
 civilised world, between Rome and China.” — ‘The Academy,’ June 
 20 , 1885 . 
 
68 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 and Eamses, ruled at Thebes, and literature, says 
 Deutsch, '' celebrated its highest triumphs at his 
 brilliant court.” Mne pre-eminent savans were at- 
 tached to the person of that monarch, at whose court 
 Moses was educated. We have in this precious relic 
 of antiquity, contemporary delineations of the man- 
 ners and customs, the notions and views, of the 
 Egyptians of 3000 years ago. And it is to be hoped 
 that much more will yet be discovered from the 
 literary remains so miraculously preserved beneath 
 ruined temples, palaces, and sand-heaps, respecting 
 not only the ''learning of the Egyptians,” but also 
 their folk-lore. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 The Arabian Eomance of Antar (pp. 39-49). 
 
 The Kassas, or story-tellers of the East, can be traced up to 
 the first century of the Hijra. It is said that the first was 
 Obeyd, the son of Omayr, in the time of Omar, who pursued 
 his vocation at Mecca. The first story-teller in Egypt was 
 Selim, son of Auz, a.h. 39 (a.d. 659)* One of their favourite 
 subjects was doubtless the romantic exploits of Antar, the father 
 of Arab chivalry ; but the work itself was not written till the 
 sixth century of the Hijra, the author being Abii-’l Moyed 
 Muhammed Ibn Es-Saygh, surnamed for this reason El-Antarf, 
 or the Antarian. The year of his death is not known ; but Abu 
 Ossaibah, in his biography, mentions a letter which he addressed 
 to Hajjet-ed-Dfn Merwan, vazfr of the Atabeg Zangui, son of 
 Aksaikar, who died a.h. 640 (a.d. 1145). The Arabian bio- 
 grapher’s account of him is, that he was a celebrated physician 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 69 
 
 and scholar, and distinguished himself in philosophy and other 
 branches of science. ‘‘The physician Sedid-ed-Din Mahmud 
 ben Omar informed me,” he says, “ that the Antari wrote at the 
 beginning of his career traditions (tales) of Antar the Absite, 
 and that he became celebrated through the attribute of this 
 name.” In one of the copies of the Eomance the author is said 
 to have been Sayyid Yusuf, son of Ismael, who procured most 
 of his materials from writers versed in ancient traditions, espe- 
 cially from a learned contemporary of Harun-er-Kashid, named 
 El-Asmay, to whom the work is sometimes attributed.^ 
 
 Antar is no imaginary hero ; he is well known as a famous 
 warrior, and as the author of one of the seven prize poems 
 {Mu^allakdt) which were suspended in the Temple at Mecca 
 before the time of Muhammed. That the Arabs possessed tradi- 
 tions of the warlike exploits of Antar long before they were 
 reduced to writing, seems evident from a saying ascribed to 
 Muhammed, who, while sternly prohibiting his followers from 
 listening to the romances which had been brought from Persia, 
 advised them to cherish the tales of the hero Antar, “ that their 
 hearts might become as steel.” The Eomance of Antar is usually 
 bound up in forty-five volumes ; and it was from an abridged 
 copy that Terrick Hamilton made a translation of the First Part 
 — which treats of the hero from his birth to his marriage — which 
 was published in four octavo volumes, 1819-20. An epitome of 
 this part is included in my ‘ Arabian Poetry for English Eeaders,’ 
 1881, from the appendix to which I may here cite my sketch of 
 the characters in the Eomance, the work being now out of print. 
 
 The hero Antar, the son of Sheddad, is always the central 
 figure. His blackness of complexion, his homeliness — even ugli- 
 ness — of feature, are forgotten in admiration of his prodigious 
 strength of arm and his invincible courage ; his lofty and im- 
 passioned verses ; his greatness of soul and his tenderness of 
 heart. A true knight, sans peur et sans reproche: bold as a 
 lion when face to face with his foes ; magnanimous towards an 
 inferior antagonist ; soft and gentle when he thinks of his 
 beloved Abla, still more so when in her presence. Abla, the 
 beauteous Abla, whose dark flowing tresses first ensnared the 
 1 ‘ Asiatic Journal/ vol. xxvii., 1838. 
 
70 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 heart of the hero, and whose bright eyes completed the capture ; 
 a true Bedouin damsel : like Desdemona with the Moor, she 
 saw Antar’s beauty in his mind. And Antar — spite of his black 
 complexion, spite of his base birth — “ loved her with the love of 
 a noble- born hero ! ” When the enemy approaches the tents of 
 his tribe — when the time has come for sword-blows and spear- 
 thrusts — his base origin is forgotten : his sword is then his 
 father, and the spear in his right hand is his noble kinsman ! 
 
 The other characters are of course subordinated to the hero 
 and his achievements ; yet each has an individuality which is 
 strongly marked. Zuhayr, king of the tribes of Abs and Adnan, 
 of Fazarah and Ghiftan — a prince possessing all the virtues and 
 not a few of the failings of his age and race ; chivalrous himself, 
 he was not slow to recognise in the youthful son of Sheddad, 
 the future hero. Prince Shas, naturally ill-tempered, proud and 
 tyrannical, yet not without his good points, after adversity had 
 tamed his spirit. Prince Malik, the brave but gentle son of Zu- 
 hayr ; Antar’s first friend and protector against the malice of his 
 enemies ; ever ready to plead eloquently in his favour, or to 
 draw his sword when the hero was overwhelmed with numbers. 
 Sheddad, the father of Antar ; a bold fellow — “ of a heavy- 
 handed kin ; a good smiter when help was needed ” ; proud of his 
 pure blood as ever was hidalgo, yet yearning towards his brave 
 son when his deeds were noised abroad, and bitterly lamenting 
 his reported death. Zebiba, his simple-minded mother ; like 
 mothers of great men in general, did not appreciate her son’s 
 heroic achievements : thought he had much better stay at home 
 and help her to tend the flocks. Malik, the father of Abla ; 
 crafty, calculating, sordid, perfidious, malicious, time-serving ; 
 mthal a great stickler for the honour of his family. Amara, 
 the Bedouin exquisite ; proud, boastful ; at heart a coward. 
 Shibub, the half-brother of Antar and his trusty squire ; fleet of 
 foot, and hence called Father of the Wind ; a dexterous archer ; 
 ready with admirable devices for every emergency : never had 
 gallant knight a more useful auxiliary. 
 
 With the noble lyric of the hero’s death the curtain is appro- 
 priately dropped on the stirring drama : ‘‘ They say that an old 
 shaykh [his enemy], softened by the fate of the hero who had 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 71 
 
 made himself illustrious by so many exploits, wept over his 
 corpse, covered it with sand, and uttered these words : Glory to 
 thee, brave warrior ! who, during thy life, hast been the defender of 
 thy tribe, and who, even after thy death, hast saved thy brethren 
 by the terror of thy corpse and of thy name ! May thy soul live for 
 ever ! May the refreshing dews moisten the ground of this thy last 
 exploit /” Truly has it been said, ‘‘ Happy is the warrior whose 
 very enemies praise him.” The moral of the story (for a moral 
 there is to those who can read it aright) is, the triumph of a lofty 
 mind and a resolute will over the clogging circumstances of 
 humble birth and class-prejudice. 
 
72 
 
 INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS: SHOES OF SWIFTNESS: 
 THE INEXHAUSTIBLE PUESE, ETC. 
 
 FAVOUEITE ornament of popular fictions, re- 
 
 marks Price, in his edition of Warton’s 'History 
 of English Poetry,’ " is the highly gifted object which 
 is to supply the fortunate owner with the gratification 
 of some particular wish, or to furnish him with the 
 golden means of gratifying every want.” Of this class 
 of magical objects are the inexhaustible purse of Eor- 
 tunatus and the wishing-cap and shoes of swiftness 
 which so frequently figure in our fairy tales. The 
 romance of Fortunatus, so long a nursery favourite in 
 this country, and indispensable from the chapman’s 
 miscellaneous stock of penny story-books, ballads, and 
 small-wares, is probably little known to juveniles of 
 the present day, and copies have become so rare as 
 to be considered as treasures by collectors of literary 
 curiosities. The circumstance of the opening scene of 
 the romance being the city of Pamagosta, in the island 
 of Cyprus, might suggest that it was of Venetian 
 origin ; but according to a copy in the British Museum, 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 73 
 
 printed in 1682 (there is an imperfect copy dated 
 six years earlier), it was '' first penned in the Dutch 
 [? German] tongue, thence abstracted, and was first 
 put into English by T. C.” — that is, by Thomas 
 Churchyarde. Mr Ashton, in his ' Chap-Books of the 
 Eighteenth Century,’ says that the earliest notice he 
 has found of the romance is Tortunatus Augsp. zu 
 trucken verordnet durch J. Hey bier, 1509,’ and that 
 it seems to have been popular, for there was a French 
 edition, ' Histoire des aventures de Eortunatus, trad, 
 de I’Espagn.’: Eouen, 1656. As usual with chap-books, 
 the title-page of an edition printed at Glasgow, so late 
 as the year 1790, gives an abstract of the chief inci- 
 dents of the tale : '' The History of Eortunatus ; setting 
 forth his birth, life, travels, and adventures, in most 
 parts of the world; how Lady Fortune appeared to 
 him, and gave him a Kich Purse that never wanted 
 money ; and also in his travels how he got from the 
 Soldan a Wishing Hat, that by putting it on his head 
 he could convey himself immediately into whatever 
 place he desired. With an account how Eortunatus 
 on his deathbed declared to his two sons, Ampedo and 
 Andolocia, the virtue of his Purse and Hat.” Eor- 
 tunatus, having quitted the service of the Earl of 
 Flanders at the instigation of his fellow-chamberlain, 
 who falsely represented to him that their master had 
 a secret design to kill them both, proceeded from 
 Venice to Calais, and thence to London, where, meet- 
 ing with some merchants of Cyprus, he spent all his 
 money in riotous living, after which he took shipping, 
 
74 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 and soon arrived at Picardy, in Prance. Being be- 
 nighted in a wood, he lay down to sleep till the 
 morning. ''As soon as Portunatus awoke, he saw 
 standing before him a fair lady with her eyes muffled. 
 ^ I beseech thee,’ said he, ' sweet virgin, for the love 
 of God to assist me, that I may get out of this wood, 
 for I have travelled a great way without food.’ She 
 asked what country he was of, and he replied, ' Of 
 Cyprus ; and I am constrained by poverty to seek my 
 fortune.’ 'Pear not, Portunatus,’ said she; 'I am 
 the Goddess of Portune, and by permission of Heaven 
 have the power of Six Gifts, one of which I will bestow 
 on thee, so choose for yourself ; they are : Wisdom, 
 Strength, Eiches, Health, Beauty, and Long Life.’ 
 Said Portunatus, ' I desire to have Eiches, as long 
 as I live.’ With that she gave him a Purse, saying, 
 ' As often as you put your hand into this purse, you 
 shall find ten pounds of the coin of any nation thou 
 shalt happen to be in.’ Portunatus returned many 
 thanks to the goddess. Then she bade him follow her 
 out of the wood, and so vanished.” After this our 
 hero returns to Pamagosta, where he learns that his 
 father and mother are both dead. He purchased his 
 father’s house, and pulled it down, and built on its 
 site a stately palace ; then he married Cassandra, the 
 youngest daughter of a noble earl, by whom he had 
 two sons, Ampedo and Andolocia. Twelve years after 
 his marriage he resolved to travel once more, and 
 taking leave of his wife and children, sailed for Alex- 
 andria, where he made acquaintance with the Soldan. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 75 
 
 "‘Fortunatus, after supper, opened his purse, and gave 
 all the Soldan’s servants very liberally. The Soldan, 
 being pleased, told him he would show him such 
 curiosities as he had never seen. Then he took him 
 to a strong marble tower. In the first room were 
 several very rich vessels and jewels ; in the second 
 he showed him several vessels of gold coin, with a fine 
 wardrobe of garments, and golden candlesticks which 
 shone all over the room, and mightily pleased Fortu- 
 natus. Then the Soldan showed him his bed-chamber, 
 which was finely adorned, and likewise a small felt 
 Hat, simple to behold, saying, ' I set more value on 
 this hat than on all my jewels, as such another is not 
 to be had, for it lets a person be wherever he doth 
 wish.’ Fortunatus imagined the Hat would agree very 
 well with his Purse, and thereupon put it on his 
 head, saying he should be glad of a hat that had such 
 virtue. So the Soldan immediately gave it him. With 
 that he suddenly wished himself in his ship, it being 
 then under sail, that he might return to his own 
 country. The Soldan, looking out at his window, and 
 seeing the ship under sail, was very angry, and com- 
 manded his men to fetch him back, declaring that, if 
 they took him, he should immediately be put to death. 
 But Fortunatus was too quick for them, and arriving 
 safe at Famagosta, very richly laden, was joyfully 
 received by his wife, his two sons, and the citizens.” 
 
 The Shoes of Swiftness of the renowned hero Jack 
 the Giant-Killer possessed similar qualities to those 
 of the wonderful Hat of Fortunatus. There can be no 
 
76 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 doubt that the tale of Jack and the Giants came to us 
 from the North ; and since the incidents are for the most 
 part also found in Asiatic popular fictions, they may 
 perhaps be considered as survivals of primitive Aryan 
 myths, relating to conflicts with monstrous beasts, or 
 hardly less brutal aboriginal races of men. The hero 
 obtained his shoes of swiftness and other magical 
 things in this wise, according to the veracious nar- 
 rative of his exploits : King Arthur and his son were 
 travelling about, and meeting with Jack, they joined 
 company. The king being in want of money. Jack 
 proposed that they should sup and sleep at the house 
 of a '' huge and monstrous ’’ giant, who had three heads 
 (none of which seems to have been of much account), 
 and who could beat five hundred men in armour. So 
 Jack goes to the house of this giant, and tells him 
 that the king's son is coming with a thousand men, 
 which would prove more than a match for him. '' This 
 is heavy news indeed,” quoth the giant ; but I have a 
 large vault underground where I shall run and hide 
 myself.” While the giant is thus in his self-imposed 
 durance. Jack and the prince ate heartily at his ex- 
 pense, and slept soundly till morning, when they arose 
 and took his money. Jack then goes to release the 
 giant, who asked what he should give him for his care, 
 seeing that his castle was not demolished. “ Why,” 
 answered Jack, '' nothing but your old rusty sword, 
 the coat in the closet, and the cap and shoes which 
 you keep at the bed-head.” Quoth the giant readily, 
 '' Thou shalt have them with all my heart, as a just 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 77 
 
 reward for thy kindness in protecting me from the 
 king’s son ; and be sure that thou carefully keep them 
 for my sake, for they are things of most excellent use : 
 the coat will keep you invisible ; the cap will furnish 
 you with knowledge ; the sivord cuts whatever you 
 strike; and the shoes are of extraordinary swiftness!' 
 
 These marvellously endowed objects play important 
 parts in the romances and popular fictions of Northern 
 Europe. The shoes of swiftness were worn by Loke 
 when he escaped from hell. Velent the smith, in the 
 Edda of Ssemund, forged a “ sword of sharpness,” 
 called Balmung in the Wilkina Saga, and it was so 
 sharp that when Velent cleft his rival CEmilius with 
 it, the blade seemed to the latter only like cold water 
 running down his body. Shake thyself,” said Velent : 
 he did so, and fell in two halves, one on each side of 
 the chair. The coat of invisibility is identical with 
 the tarn-hnt, or hat of darkness, celebrated in the 
 ' Nibelungenlied ’ and in the ‘ Mfflunga Saga,’ and 
 with the nebel kappe, or cloud-cap, fabled to belong 
 to King Alberich and the other dwarfs of old German 
 romance. — In the German fairy tale of The Nose- 
 Tree,” three poor soldiers receive from a dwarf — one, 
 a cloak, which, whenever the owner put it on his 
 shoulders, accomplished anything he desired ; the 
 second, a purse, which was always full of gold, no 
 matter how much was taken out of it ; the third, a 
 horn, that drew crowds around it whenever it played ; 
 and in the story of the '' Dancing Shoes ” (which is 
 also domiciled in Portugal — see ‘ Portuguese Eolk- 
 
78 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Tales/ published by the Folk-Lore Society), a soldier 
 is presented, by a little old woman, with a cloak which 
 rendered the wearer invisible. Caps and coats having 
 the same property are among the treasures which the 
 conquered ogres lay before the hero Little Peachling, 
 in Mr Mitford’s ‘ Tales of Old Japan.’ In the German 
 story of Heads Off! Heinel, the hero, in the course 
 of his adventures, '' came to a hill where three giants 
 were sharing their fathers goods; and as they saw 
 him pass, they cried out and said, ' Little men have 
 sharp wits ; he shall part the goods between us.’ [In 
 fairy tales giants are always foolish.] Now there was 
 a sword that cut off an enemy’s head whenever the 
 wearer said, ' Heads Off ! ’ a cloak that made the wearer 
 invisible, or gave him any form he pleased ; and a pair 
 of boots that carried the owner wherever he wished to 
 go. Heinel said they must first let him try these 
 wonderful things, that he might know how to set a 
 value upon each of them. So they gave him the cloak, 
 and he wished himself a fly, and in a moment he was 
 a fly. ‘ The cloak is well enough,’ said he ; ‘ now give 
 me the sword.’ ' No,’ said they, ‘ not unless you pro- 
 mise not to say, '' Heads Off ! ” for if you do we are all 
 dead men.’ Then they gave it him, charging him to 
 try it only on a tree. He next asked for the boots ; 
 and the moment he had all three in his power, he 
 wished himself at the Golden Mountain, and there he 
 was at once. So the giants were left behind with no 
 goods to share or quarrel about.” And in the Norse 
 story of the Three Princesses of Whiteland, the wan- 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 79 
 
 dering king conies upon three brothers on a moor, who 
 were fighting for the possession of a hat, a cloak, and 
 a pair of boots, which enabled the wearer to become 
 invisible and to go wherever he pleased. “ Why do 
 you stand here,’’ said the king, '' fighting for ever and 
 a day ? Just let me try these things, and I’ll give 
 judgment whose they shall be.” This they were very 
 willing to do ; but as soon as he had got the hat, cloak, 
 and boots, he said, '' When we meet next time, I’ll tell 
 you my judgment.” And with these words he wished 
 himself away. 
 
 This incident — which, as we shall presently see, is 
 world- wide — also occurs in the Italian popular tale of 
 Lion Bruno, which is of modern Greek extraction. 
 The hero finds three robbers quarrelling in a wood, 
 and is chosen to be their arbiter. They had stolen 
 three things of great value, and could not agree about 
 the division of them. These were : a pair of boots 
 which had this virtue, that whoever put them on 
 could run a mile faster than the wind ; a purse which, 
 by saying, '' Open and shut,” yielded a hundred ducats ; 
 and a cloak, which whoever put on saw and w^as not 
 seen. The hero tries all three, and by aid of the boots 
 gets safely off, leaving the robbers to quarrel among 
 themselves, w^hile he continues his journey. — In a 
 Breton version, published in the first volume of 
 'Melusine,’ entitled, 'Woleur avise,” the magical 
 articles are: A cloak which, being put on, trans- 
 ported the owner to any place he desired to reach ; 
 a hat that conferred invisibility on the wearer; and 
 
80 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 gaiters that gave the power of walking as fast as the 
 wind.^ 
 
 So, too, in the Persian romance entitled ' Bahar-i- 
 Danish,’ or Spring of Knowledge (which is, all but 
 the frame, avowedly derived from Indian sources), two 
 brothers dispute about an old fakir’s cloak, which pro- 
 duced, when required, any quantity of rich clothes ; a 
 satchel, from which issued at will diamonds, pearls, 
 and other precious gems ; a kalender’s bowl, which 
 became full to overflowing with all sorts of delicious 
 viands and liquors ; and a pair of wooden clogs, which 
 transported the wearer from one end of the world to 
 
 ^ Some Italian Folk-Tales,” by H. C. Coote, in ‘ The Folk-Lore 
 Record,’ vol. i. p. 211. — On the close affinity between the French and 
 Italian popular mythologies, Coote remarks : The same tales which 
 have been told by Celtic crones in sequestered and misty Basse Bre- 
 tagne, have been recounted in a more graceful tongue and under a 
 better sky in sunny Tuscany, in the old Neapolitan kingdom, and 
 elsewhere in the [Italian] peninsula, as familiar household words. 
 No communication between the two countries can be reasonably sup- 
 posed, since the disruption of the Western Empire. The simul- 
 taneous appearance of the tales in both countries, thus deprived of 
 close intercourse, disposes of the Celtic ascription. Being found in a 
 non-Celtic country as well as in a Celtic one, the common origin of 
 the fictions cannot be Celtic merely. It should rather be sought in 
 the free and unrestricted means of communication which existed 
 between them when they were both parts of the same empire.” — 
 Ibid., pp. 212, 213. 
 
 A most remarkable reci'pe for making shoes of swiftness is found 
 in an Icelandic story ; “ The giant told her that Hermddr was in a 
 certain desert island, which he named to her ; but she could not get 
 thither unless she Jiayed the soles of her feet and made shoes for herself 
 out of the skin; and these shoes, when made, would be of such a 
 nature that they would take her through the air, or over the water, 
 as she liked.” — 'Icelandic Legends,’ translated by Powell and Mag- 
 nusson. Second Series, p. 397. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 81 
 
 the other in the twinkling of an eye. The hero is 
 appointed arbiter, and shoots two arrows in dif- 
 ferent directions, which the disputants are to fetch 
 him back, and he who returns first is to have the 
 treasures, with which he decamps while they are run- 
 ning in search of the arrows. The same incident 
 occurs in the Arabian tale of Hasan of Basra, which 
 presents several points of resemblance to the charming 
 Persian romance of King Bahram Ghiir and the fairy 
 Husn Bami. In the latter the royal hero receives 
 from the lord of the second Kaf the magical cap of 
 Solomon, which enabled the wearer to see whom he 
 pleased, but they could not see him ; from the lord of 
 the third Kaf he obtained the staff of Solomon, which 
 caused any door to fly open, no matter how strong it 
 might be, and even if guarded by talismans and en- 
 chantments; and from the lord of the fourth Kaf, 
 Solomon’s slipper, wrought with threads of gold, by 
 which one might travel a journey of a hundred years 
 without being weary, and the distance traversed would 
 seem but a hundred steps.^ 
 
 ^ Muhammedans, like Christians before Copernicus, conceived the 
 earth to be a vast plane of circular form, surrounded by a mountain 
 of immense altitude, called by the Arabs Kaf, and the Arabian lexi- 
 cographers describe it as being composed of green emerald. In the 
 ‘ Borham-i Kati,’ a valuable Persian dictionary, we have the following 
 description of it : “ Kdif, the name of the famous mountain which 
 surrounds the four quarters of the earth. They say that its altitude 
 is five hundred parasangs [nearly two thousand English miles !], and 
 for the most part the sea washes the base of it .” — Duncan Forbes. 
 K^f was supposed to be the abode of genii, peris, and divs, or giants — 
 the mysterious region of enchantments. In Muslim legends, Solomon, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 F 
 
82 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 An invisible cap and boots of swiftness also fig- 
 ure prominently in the Kalmuk collection of tales, 
 entitled ‘ Siddhf Kur,’ an English version of which, 
 based upon Bergmann’s German translation, was pub- 
 lished many years ago by W. J. Thoms in his ‘ Lays 
 and Legends of many Nations,’ a work which was 
 never completed, and the fasciculi that were printed 
 are now become very scarce:^ 
 
 “ The Son of the Khan and his companion travelled 
 along a river and arrived in a wood, where they found 
 a number of children quarrelling one with another. 
 ' Wherefore,’ inquired they, ' do you thus dispute ? ’ 
 'We have found a cap in this wood,’ said the children, 
 ' and every one desires to possess it.’ ' Of what use is 
 this cap ? ’ ' The cap has this wonderful property, 
 
 that whosoever places it on his head can be neither 
 seen by demons nor men.’ 'Now, go all of you to 
 the end of the forest and run hither, and I will in 
 the meanwhile keep the cap, and give it to the first 
 of you who reaches me.’ Thus spake the Son of the 
 Khan, and the children ran ; but they found not the 
 
 the great Hebrew king, is represented as master of all magic arts, all 
 the genii being under his control. 
 
 ^ Siddhi Kur signifies a dead body endowed with supernatural 
 powers, or a corpse into which a vampire has entered. These Re- 
 lations of Siddhi Kur are the Mongolian form of the ancient Indian 
 work, ‘ Vetdlapanchavinsati ’ — Twenty-five (Tales) of a Vetdla, or 
 demon. The first part of a book, published a few years ago under the 
 title of ‘ Sagas from the Far East,’ by Miss M. H. Busk, consists of the 
 Tales of Siddhi Kur, based, it is said, upon Professor Jiilg’s German 
 translation; the second part, entitled Ardshi Bordshi (Rdjfi Bhoja), 
 is the Mongolian form of another old Indian collection, ‘Sinhfisana 
 Dwatrinsati,’ or Thirty-two (Tales) of a Throne. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 83 
 
 cap, for it was upon the head of his companion. 
 ‘Even now it was here,’ said they, ‘and now it is 
 gone ! ’ And after they had sought for it, but without 
 finding it, they went away weeping. 
 
 “And the Son of the Khan and his companion 
 travelled onwards, and at last they came to a forest 
 where they found a party of demons quarrelling one 
 with another, and they said, ‘Why do you quarrel 
 one with another V ‘I have made myself master of 
 these boots,’ exclaimed each of them. ‘ Of what use 
 are these boots ? ’ inquired the Son of the Khan. ‘ He 
 who wears these boots,’ replied they, ‘ is conveyed to 
 any country wherein he wishes himself.’ ‘ Now,’ said 
 the Son of the Khan, ‘ go all of you that may, and he 
 who first runs hither shall have the boots.’ And the 
 demons {chadkurs), when they heard these words, ran 
 as they were told ; but the Son of the Khan had con- 
 cealed the boots in the bosom of his companion, who 
 had the cap upon his head. And the demons saw the 
 boots no more; they sought them in vain, and went 
 their way.” 
 
 A much older version is found in the great collec- 
 tion of tales and apologues, entitled ‘ Katha Sarit 
 Sagara,’ or Ocean of the Eivers of Story, composed 
 in Sanskrit verse, by Somadeva, of Kashmir, in the 
 eleventh century, after a similar work entitled ‘ Vrihat 
 Katha,’ or the Great Story (of which no copy has 
 hitherto been discovered), written by Gunadhya, in 
 the sixth century : ^ 
 
 ^ This grand work, in which are found the originals of many of the 
 
84 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 '' As King Putraka wandered about [in the wilds of 
 Vindhya], he saw two heroes engaged heart and soul 
 in a wrestling-match, and he asked them who they 
 were. They replied, 'We are two sons of the A sura 
 Maya,^ and his wealth belongs to us — this vessel, and 
 this stick, and these shoes. It is for these that we are 
 fighting, and whichever of us proves the mightier is 
 to take them.’ When he heard this speech of theirs, 
 Putraka said with a smile, ' That is a fine inheritance 
 for a man.’ Then they said, ' By putting on these 
 shoes one gains the power of flying through the air ; 
 whatever is written on this staff turns out true ; and 
 whatever food a man wishes to have in this vessel 
 is found there immediately.’ When he heard this, 
 Putraka said, ' What is the use of fighting ? Make 
 this agreement, that whoever proves the best man in 
 running, shall possess these treasures.’ Those simple- 
 tons said, ' Agreed,’ and set off to run, while the prince 
 put on the shoes and flew up into the air, taking with 
 him the staff and the vessel.” 
 
 It is probable that this incident is of Buddhist 
 origin, since it is found in the ' Avadanas ’ (No. 74), 
 or, Indian Tales and Apologues, translated into 
 French from the Chinese, by Stanislas Julien, in 
 
 tales of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ has been translated by Professor C. H. 
 Tawney, and recently published at Calcutta, in fourteen fasciculi, or 
 two large volumes. The best thanks of English students of compara- 
 tive folk-lore are due to Mr Tawney for the service he has thus ren- 
 dered them : his notes, giving references to variants of the tales, are 
 very valuable as well as interesting. 
 
 ^ An A sura was formerly considered as a kind of deity, but latterly 
 as a species of demon. The term Maya signifies “delusion.” 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 85 
 
 which, however, two Pisachas have each a magic 
 coffer, staff, and shoe. “These two demons were 
 always quarrelling, each wishing to have all those 
 six things for himself. They passed whole days fight- 
 ing with each other, without being able to agree. A 
 man, who had witnessed this obstinate contention, 
 asked them, ' What is there so rare in a coffer, a 
 staff, and a shoe that you should fight so bitterly 
 about them ? ’ The demons answered, ' From this cof- 
 fer we can take clothes, liquors, food — in short, all 
 sorts of things needful for life and comfort. When 
 we hold this staff, our enemies humbly yield to us, 
 and no one dare withstand us. When we put on 
 this shoe, we can walk as if we were flying, without 
 encountering any obstacle.’ On hearing this, the man 
 said to them, ' Go a little way off ; I am about to 
 make a fair division.’ At these words both the 
 demons went aside. That man took the two coffers, 
 the two staffs, and the two shoes, and made off with 
 them. The two demons were dumfoundered when 
 they saw that there no longer remained anything for 
 them. Then said that man to the demons, 'I have 
 taken possession of everything, which leaves you both 
 in the same plight, and I have removed from you all 
 cause of jealousy and contention.’ ” The two Pisachas 
 each possessing similar treasures seems a modification 
 by the Chinese translator, but for which this might be 
 considered as nearer the original form of the story. 
 
 The Mongolians have a curious legend of the origin 
 
86 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 of the Chinese nation, which is based upon the same 
 incident of the contest for possession of a magical 
 treasure : 
 
 There was once a poor Bande. He had nothing to 
 drink or to eat. The Bande went on the road and 
 met two men quarrelling over a precious stone as big 
 as a sheep’s eye. Bande said to them that they should 
 hand him the stone, and that he should run with it, 
 and whoever first caught him should be given the 
 stone. They prepared to race ; then Bande swallowed 
 the stone and disappeared. He came to the territory 
 of a certain Khan. In a poor tent lived an old man 
 and an old woman ; he lived with them ; the old man 
 adopted him as a son to his house. Bande spat and 
 vomited gold. The old man took the gold to the Khan, 
 to ask him for his daughter for wife to Bande. The 
 Khan wished to see Bande himself with his own eyes. 
 Bande vomited out some gold before the face of the 
 Khan. The daughter of the Khan ordered him to be 
 bound with a horse-girth, and giving him salt water, 
 flogged him with a whip, and out flew the stone from 
 him. The Khan’s daughter seized the stone and swal- 
 lowed it. Bande returned to his old man, and said 
 that he had lost the power of producing gold. '' What 
 are we to do now ? ” says the old man. '' Make an 
 ass’s saddle and bridle,” said Bande. When the things 
 were prepared, Bande went to a tree and sat down. 
 At that time the Khan’s daughter, with twenty virgins, 
 went out to play with the white tree. Then Bande 
 began to read a writing which had been read out to 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 87 
 
 him in his sleep, when he in the time of his poverty 
 slept in the road under the tree. By this reading the 
 Khan’s daughter, who was pregnant because she had 
 swallowed the precious stone, was changed into a she- 
 ass. Then the other maidens, seeing only the she-ass, 
 and not seeing the Khan’s daughter, were frightened ; 
 but Bande saddled the ass and rode off. He rode for 
 a month ; then the ass was wearied out, and could go 
 no farther. Bande left her, and proceeded on foot to a 
 certain town, where he became a lhama \i.e., Buddhist 
 priest]. The ass which he left behind gave birth to 
 two boys — one good, the other evil. The following 
 generations were all likewise twins. They all became 
 rich ; had much gold, silver, cloth, tea, etc. From them 
 came the Chinese nation.^ 
 
 In Steele and Temple’s ‘ Wide-Awake Stories ’ from 
 the Panjab and Kashmir (tale of the King and hi& 
 Seven Sons) there are four magical treasures : a wallet 
 with two pockets, one of which will produce anything 
 desired by the person who smells at it, except that it 
 cannot make a man — the other pocket can even make 
 a man ; a staff, which can bring a dead man struck 
 with it to life again three times ; a brass pot, if pro- 
 perly cleansed, will give the person who cleanses it 
 the thirty-six kinds of sumptuous food; and a pair 
 of sandals, which convey the wearer wheresoever he 
 pleases. 
 
 ^ ^ Folk-Lore Journal,’ 1886, vol. iv. pp. 23, 24. 
 
88 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 A Hindustani version, in Miss Stokes’s 'Indian 
 Fairy Tales,’ tells how four fakirs disputed with each 
 other for the possession of four things left them by 
 their late spiritual teacher, namely : a bed that carried 
 whoever sat on it anywhere he wished; a bag that 
 gave the owner of it whatever he wanted — jewels, 
 food, or clothes ; a stone bowl that gave as much 
 water as was required, no matter how far one might 
 be from any tank ; and a stick and rope to which the 
 owner had simply to say, " Stick, stick ! beat as many 
 men and soldiers as are here,” and the stick would 
 beat them, and the rope would tie them up. The hero 
 of the story, of course, outwits the four foolish fakirs, 
 and obtains possession of the wonderful bed, bag, bowl, 
 and stick. — In the Eev. Lai Behari Day’s 'Folk Tales 
 of Bengal,’ an indigent Brahman received from Durga, 
 the consort of Siva, a magic pipkin, from which flowed 
 the most delicious sweetmeats ; and when it was stolen 
 from him, Durga gives him another pipkin, out of 
 which issue flerce demons, who compel the thief to 
 restore what he had stolen. A similar incident is 
 found in Miss Frere’s ' Old Deccan Days ; or, Indian 
 Fairy Legends.’ 
 
 The magic stick flgures also to the same purpose in 
 the Horse tale of the Lad who went to the North Wind, 
 some of the incidents of which closely resemble those of 
 Miss Stokes’s Hindu version. The North Wind having 
 caught the Lad’s meal, the hero immediately goes to 
 him and demands it back. This the North Wind 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 89 
 
 cannot do, but he gives the Lad in place of his meal 
 a cloth, which provided him with everything he should 
 want, when he said, Cloth ! cloth 1 spread yourself 
 out and serve up all kinds of good dishes.” This is 
 stolen from him, so he goes back to the North Wind, 
 who gives him a ram, which coined golden ducats as 
 soon as he said to it, '' Earn 1 ram 1 make money.” ^ 
 This also is stolen from him ; so he goes back again to 
 the North Wind, and gets a stick, which belaboured 
 any one if the owner said, '' Stick ! stick ! lay on ; ” and 
 by means of this wonderful stick he recovers his 
 cloth and his ram.^ 
 
 r' 
 
 The same story as this last is — miitatis mutandis — 
 current among the people of Italy: A man named 
 Geppone {i.e., Joe) had a farm on the top of a hill, 
 which was so buffeted by the North Wind that he could 
 raise nothing. At last he goes to the North Wind and 
 makes his complaint, and the North Wind gives him, 
 by way of compensation, a box, which he has only to 
 tap, at the same time calling out, '' Bring wine, bread, 
 and meat,” when forthwith all sorts of eatables and 
 drinkables are spread before him. He takes the box 
 home, and his wife and children get a good dinner. 
 Joe warns his wife to say nothing about his treasure 
 to the prior, else he would want to take it for his own 
 
 ^ Stories of Gold-producing Animals will be found compared in 
 the following paper. 
 
 2 Dasent’s ‘ Popular Tales from the Norse.’ Second edition, p. 263. 
 A precisely similar story, under the title of Jack’s Luck ; or, the 
 Ass, the Table, and the Stick,” is told in ‘English Fairy Tales from 
 the North Country,’ by Dr A. C. Fryer. 
 
90 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 use. But she does tell the prior, who obtains the box, 
 on promising to provide Joe with corn, wine, etc. The 
 prior, however, does not keep his promise, so poor Joe 
 goes again to the North Wind, acquaints him of how 
 the prior had defrauded him, and receives this time a 
 golden box. On his way home J oe taps the box and 
 calls out '' Provide,” upon which out jumps a great big 
 man with a stick in his hand, and belabours him 
 within an inch of his life. J oe shuts up the box and 
 resumes his journey. Having reached home, he was 
 eagerly asked what he had got this time from the 
 North Wind, to which he replied by producing the 
 golden box, and calling out Provide,” when the big 
 man came out of it, and thrashed J oe’s wife and chil- 
 dren till they cried for mercy. Joe then shuts the 
 box, and bids his wife go to the prior and tell him 
 that he has another box more beautiful than the first, 
 which provides most sumptuous dinners. The prior 
 is delighted to hear this news, and desires her to send 
 her husband with the new box to him at once. Joe 
 sets off accordingly ; shows his treasure to the prior, 
 who offers him the old box in exchange for it, which 
 Joe accepts, at the same time cautioning the prior not 
 to open the golden box until people were very hungry. 
 
 That will do,” responded the prior ; '' I shall have the 
 titular and many clergymen to dinner, and I won’t 
 open the box before noontide.” The morning comes ; 
 all the priests say mass, and afterwards some of them 
 walk round about the kitchen. ''To-day,” they say, 
 " the prior surely does not mean to give us any dinner. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 91 
 
 The fire is out, and there is nothing prepared.” But 
 the others, who had seen the effects of the first box, 
 answered, You will soon see : when dinner - time 
 comes he opens a box, and makes all sorts of viands 
 appear.” When the dinner-hour arrived, the prior told 
 all the priests to take their places, and they anxiously 
 waited to see the miracle of the box. So the box is 
 opened, and six men armed with sticks jump out, and 
 belabour the whole company right and left'. The box 
 falls from the prior’s hand, still open; but Joe, who is 
 outside, picks it up and shuts it. He ever after re- 
 tained both boxes, and never lent them to anybody, 
 and became a great lord.^ 
 
 The 17th of Leger’s collection of Slav Tales furnishes 
 another interesting variant of the Horse story: A 
 countryman had three sons, the youngest of whom 
 was (as usual in fairy tales) considered as a block- 
 head. The eldest son hires himself to a farmer for a 
 year, and receives as wages a snow^-white sheep, from 
 whose fleece a shower of gold fell whenever one said, 
 '' Sheep, help me.” On his way home he tries his 
 sheep in a wood, and obtains abundance of gold. He 
 puts up at an inn, and tells the landlady to take care 
 of his sheep, and allow no one to say to it, Sheep, 
 help me.” But during the night she goes to the sheep, 
 and having said these words, gets a shower of gold 
 from its fleece. She then takes it away, and puts 
 
 1 “Some Italian Folk-Tales,” by H. C. Coote, in ‘The Folk-Lore 
 Record,’ vol. i. pp. 204-206. 
 
92 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 another sheep in its place. In the morning the youth 
 goes home with this sheep, and in attempting to ex- 
 hibit its gold-giving nature utterly fails, of course, and 
 being laughed at by his friends, he beats the spurious 
 sheep to death. The second son next goes and serves 
 the same farmer for a year, and receives as his wages 
 a napkin, to which one had only to say, “ Napkin, 
 serve me,’' and instantly it was covered with a 
 sumptuous feast. He puts up at the same inn, and 
 is cheated of his napkin, as his brother was of his 
 sheep, and is ridiculed at home. Then the youngest 
 son, whom everybody despised as a noodle, serves the 
 same man, and at the year’s end, on relating to him 
 the misadventures of his two brothers, and expressing 
 his wish to recover the sheep and the napkin, he gets 
 from the farmer a stick, which when addressed, '' Up, 
 stick ! down with the fellow ! — nab him, slap him ! ” 
 hits all round until it is recalled. He takes up his 
 lodging at the inn, and gives the landlady the stick to 
 take care of for him till the morning, warning her not 
 to allow any one to say, '' Stick ! down with him ! ” 
 But she determines to test the qualities of the stick as 
 she had done those of the other things, and so at night 
 she says to it, '' Stick, stick, lay on ! ” etc. ; whereupon 
 the stick bangs her right and left till her yells and 
 screams awoke the youth, who came to her rescue, 
 but would not order the stick to cease beating her 
 until she promised to restore the sheep and the napkin.^ 
 
 ^ ' Contes Populaires Slaves.’ Recueillis et traduits par L. Leger. 
 Paris: 1882. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 93 
 
 A French version, ''Jean a la Tige d’Haricot,” cur- 
 rent in Picardy, has the same incidents, with an ass 
 that gave money whenever one said, " Ass, show your 
 talent ; ” a table that was spread with all sorts of eat- 
 ables and drinkables when one cried, " Table, do your 
 duty;” and a kitchen rolling-pin that compelled the 
 restoration of the two other treasures, which had been 
 stolen by the hostess.^ 
 
 A variant orally current among the common people of 
 Eome, possesses peculiar interest from the resemblance 
 which the first part bears to an Indian story : The two 
 sons of a poor man while in the woods one day saw a 
 great bird alight and drop an egg, which, when the 
 bird flew away, they picked up and discovered some 
 writing on the shell. As they could not read, they 
 took the egg to a farmer, who at once perceived that 
 the inscription signified, "Who eats my head shall 
 become emperor ; who eats my heart shall never want 
 
 ^ ‘ Contes Fran 9 ais.’ Eecueillis par E. Henry Carnoy. Paris: 1885. 
 See also a Tuscan parallel, p. 123 of ‘ Italian Popular Tales,’ by Prof. 
 T. F. Crane. London: 1885. — This is an ingenious “explanation” 
 of the story of the Ass, Stick, &c., by one of our solar-mythologists : 
 “ The table is the all-nourishing cloud. The buck-goat [ass, or ram] 
 is another emblem of the clouds, and the gold it spits is the golden 
 light of the sun that streams through the fleecy coverings of the sky. 
 The demon of darkness has stolen these things ; the cloud gives no 
 rain, but hangs dusky in the sky, veiling the light of the sun. Then 
 the lightning-spear [Le., the Stick] of the ancient storm -god Odin 
 leaps out from the bag that concealed it ; the robber falls, the rain 
 patters down, the sun shines once more.” — ‘ Curiosities of Indo-Euro- 
 pean Tradition and Folk-Lore.’ By Walter K. Kelly. Curiosities ” 
 indeed ! 
 
94 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 for money ; ’’ but wishing to eat both the head and the 
 heart himself, he told the youths that the meaning of 
 the writing was, “ Whosoever eats the bird shall make 
 a very good dinner.” '' To-morrow, therefore,” added 
 he, '' do you provide yourselves with a good stick, 
 watch for the return of the bird, and knock her down. 
 Then make a fire and cook the bird, and I will come 
 myself and eat it along with you.” The bird was 
 accordingly killed next day, and put on a fire to roast. 
 It happened that the head dropped into the fire, and 
 the younger of the two brothers, thinking it too much 
 burnt to set before the farmer, took and ate it ; and 
 soon after the heart also fell into the fire, and the 
 elder brother ate it, as it was likewise sadly burnt. 
 Wlien the farmer came, he said he wished to have 
 only the head and the heart of the bird, and great was 
 his rage on learning what had become of them. On 
 their return home the youths informed their poor 
 father how they had unintentionally offended the 
 farmer, at which he was much concerned, and told 
 them there was no help for it, but they must go out 
 into the world and seek their own fortunes. So they 
 left the parental roof and set out on their travels. At 
 night they came to an inn, and the landlord allowed 
 them to sleep on some straw in the stable. What was 
 the astonishment of the elder brother to discover a 
 box full of sequins under his head when he awoke in 
 the morning. Supposing that this was a device of the 
 landlord to try their honesty, the youths carried the box 
 to him, saying that he must have left it in the stable 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 95 
 
 inadvertently. The landlord, in his turn not a little 
 astonished, took the box, treated them to a good break- 
 fast, and gave them provisions for the day, after which 
 they resumed their journey. The following night they 
 slept in the stable of another inn, and in the morning 
 again the elder brother found a box of sequins under 
 his head. Believing the landlord of the preceding 
 night had thus laid another trap for them, the brothers 
 went back and gave him this second box, which he 
 very willingly accepted, though wondering what it all 
 meant. On the third night, when they were about to 
 lie down in the stable of another inn, the youngest 
 expressed his doubts as to their first landlord being the 
 real owner of the box of money, and he resolved to sit 
 up and watch if the man came during the night. But 
 he did not come, and in the morning there was a third 
 box of sequins under the elder brother’s head, so they 
 were now satisfied that the treasure was intended for 
 themselves. Continuing their journey, they reached 
 a great city, the emperor of which had just died, 
 and the inhabitants were at strife regarding the elec- 
 tion of his successor. The younger brother, with the 
 box of treasure on his shoulder, happened to be some- 
 what in advance of the other, and the guards at the 
 city gates seized him, and when the people discovered 
 the glittering contents of his box, they unanimously 
 chose him for their emperor. 
 
 Meanwhile the elder brother entered the city un- 
 noticed, and obtained a night’s lodging in the house 
 of a woman and her daughter. The box of sequins. 
 
96 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 which he found as usual beneath his head, when he 
 awoke in the morning, enabled him to make hand- 
 some presents to the woman and her pretty daughter. 
 But the girl wheedled out of him the secret of his 
 wealth — his having eaten the bird’s heart — and put 
 an emetic into his wine at supper, which caused him 
 to throw-up the money -giving heart, and he was then 
 ignominiously turned into the street to shift as best 
 he could. The poor youth wandered aimlessly till he 
 came to the margin of a stream, where he lay down 
 and began to weep and bewail his sad fate. Presently 
 three fairies appeared, and having learned his story, 
 gave him a sheep-skin jacket, the pockets of which, 
 they told him, should be always full of money. Our 
 hero then returned to the house of the fair but false 
 demoiselle, with rich presents for herself and her 
 mother. The girl, having ascertained the new source 
 of his wealth, caused her maid to make a similar 
 sheep -skin jacket, which she substituted while he 
 slept, and in the morning he left unsuspicious of the 
 foul trick she had played him. He soon discovered 
 it, however, and seeking the stream once more, the 
 fairies gave him a wand, which, when struck on a 
 table, would give him all he desired. Of course, he 
 returns again to the deceitful demoiselle, and of course 
 she steals the magic rod from him, and sends him 
 about his business. He revisits the stream and 
 receives from the beneficent fairies a wishing-ring, 
 which they caution him to guard very carefully, since 
 it is the last gift in their power to bestow on him. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 97 
 
 Going back to the house of the demoiselle, in answer 
 to her inquiries he tells her that the ring on his 
 finger is a wishing-ring. “ Then,” says she, do you 
 wish that we may be both together on the top of 
 yonder mountain, and a sumptuous feast spread out 
 for us.” The youth willingly complies, and in an in- 
 stant they are there, and find a grand feast spread out 
 for them. The demoiselle drugs his wine, and while 
 he is asleep steals the ring, and by its virtue is im- 
 mediately back in her own house. What must have 
 been the feelings of the poor youth when he awoke 
 and found both his ring and the treacherous demoiselle 
 gone 1 After wandering about for three days weeping, 
 he took some herbs to assuage his hunger, when lo ! 
 he was at once transformed into a donkey, with panniers 
 hung over his sides. But he still preserved his in- 
 telligence, and before beginning to descend the moun- 
 tain, he put some of the wonder-working herbs in his 
 panniers. When he reached the foot, he plucked 
 some grass that grew there, and behold ! he was re- 
 stored to his own proper form. Taking a quantity of 
 this grass also, he entered the city, and, disguised as a 
 street-hawker, with a basket of the herbs on his arm, 
 he went under the window of the false demoiselle and 
 bawled out, “ Salad, fine salad ! ” The maid, knowing 
 her mistress was very fond of salad, took him into 
 the house and introduced him to the young lady, who 
 no sooner began to test the quality of the herbs than 
 she was changed into the form of a donkey. Our 
 hero then drove her through the city, and cudgelled 
 VOL. I. G 
 
98 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 her so severely that a citizen seized him, saying that 
 he must answer for his cruelty to the emperor. Now 
 when he was brought, with the donkey, into the em- 
 peror’s presence, he at once recognised, in the person 
 of the great monarch, his younger brother, and desired 
 the court to be cleared before he entered into any 
 explanations, which being done, he then told the em- 
 peror his story, and the brothers fell upon each other’s 
 necks and wept for joy. The emperor caused the 
 wicked demoiselle in donkey-shape to return to her 
 house with our hero, and restore all the treasures she 
 had stolen from him, after which she was given some 
 of the grass, and resumed her natural forni.^ 
 
 An Indian analogue of the incident of the eating of 
 the bird’s head and heart in this last story is found in 
 the Manipuri tale of the two princes Turi and Basanta, 
 who in the course of their wanderings rest for the 
 night under a tree on which a pair of parrots are 
 perched, and Turi, while his brother sleeps, hears the 
 birds converse together. The cock-parrot calls to his 
 wife, and asks her what will happen to the man who 
 should eat her. She answers that at first he will 
 experience great distress, and afterwards even greater 
 happiness. The cock says that the man who should 
 eat him will be made king. Turi kills both birds, and 
 roasts them. By-and-by he feels very sleepy, and 
 awaking his brother, desires him to keep watch for a 
 
 ^ ‘ The Folk-Lore of Rome.’ Collected from the mouths of the 
 People. By M. H. Busk. London : 1874. Pp. 146-154. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 99 
 
 short time. During the night Basanta, feeling hungry, 
 eats the hen-bird, which is fated to bring sorrow upon 
 him. In the morning Turi eats the other bird. Search- 
 ing for water, the brothers lose sight of each other. 
 Turi becomes a king, and Basanta, after a series of 
 strange vicissitudes, is reunited to his brother.^ 
 
 In another Eoman popular story, an aged man on 
 his deathbed bequeaths to his eldest son an old broken 
 hat without a brim ; yet such was its virtue, that '' if 
 you put it on, you can go in to dine at whatever inn you 
 please, or sit down to drink at what wine-shop yon 
 please, and drink what you like, for no one will see you 
 when you have it on.” To his second son he gives a 
 purse, ''in which, whenever you put your fingers in, 
 you will always find a scudo there, and after that 
 another, and another, and as many as ever you wish — 
 there will always be one.” To his youngest son he 
 gives a horn, telling him that whenever he wants any- 
 thing he has only to sound it, and one ^ will come and 
 bring whatever he wants — be it a dinner, a suit of 
 clothes, a palace, or even an army. The second son — 
 who, strangely, is the hero of this tale — is seen by a 
 maid from a window, and invited to play at cards with 
 the queen her mistress, who learns from him the secret 
 of his wealth, and appropriates the magic purse. He 
 borrows in succession his eldest brother’s magic hat 
 
 ^ ^Indian Antiquary,’ 1875, vol. iv. pp. 260-264. 
 
 2 By ‘‘one” we are to understand that the genie, or ‘‘slave,” of the 
 horn is meant. 
 
100 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 and his youngest brother’s magic horn, both of which 
 the greedy and unscrupulous queen also contrives to 
 take from him. After this he went about disconsolate, 
 and coming to a fig-tree he plucked and ate some of 
 its fruit, when behold ! his nose assumed an enormous 
 length ; but by-and-by, eating some cherries, his nose 
 returned to its natural condition. Taking a quantity 
 of these wonder-working figs and cherries, he gave 
 some of the figs to the queen and her servants, whose 
 noses, after their eating the fruit, became fearful snouts 
 — that of the wicked queen was no less than twelve 
 feet long. Then he went near the palace another day 
 and cried, ''Noses reduced in size !” So he was taken 
 within, and, to convince the queen of his skill in this 
 branch of surgical science, he reduced the noses of the 
 domestics. When the queen saw this, she desired to 
 have her own nose also reduced, but remarked to him 
 that she possessed more wonderful things than his cure 
 for long noses; and so saying, she showed him the 
 magic hat, purse, and horn, explaining their respective 
 qualities, upon which our hero clapped the hat upon 
 his head, and, thus becoming invisible, then picked 
 up the purse and the horn and went off — leaving the 
 wicked queen still with her " twelve feet of nose.” ^ 
 
 ^ Miss Busk’s ‘ Folk-Lore of Rome,’ p. 129. — This story is also found 
 in Grimm’s ‘ Kinder und Hausmarchen.’ The incident of the hero’s 
 transformation to donkey-form, by eating certain herbs, in the pre- 
 ceding Italian tale, is simply a variant of the ‘‘Nose” in this story. 
 In the 46th chapter of an old English version of the ‘ Gesta Roman - 
 orum,’ the hero, who had been tricked of three magic treasures by 
 his leman, in his wanderings ate some fruit that made him a leper, 
 and then came to a river the water of which healed him : returning 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 101 
 
 Still worse was the fate of the avaricious fellow in 
 the 14th Tale of Siddhi Kiir (' Sagas from the Far 
 East ’) : There were formerly two brothers, of whom 
 the younger was very rich and very avaricious ; the 
 elder was exceedingly poor. One day the rich man gave 
 a grand feast, and did not invite his brother ; so, being 
 reduced to absolute want, he went into the wilderness, 
 intending to put an end to his wretched life. There 
 he sees a party of Dakinis (male and female evil 
 genii) assembled, who take from the cleft of a rock 
 a bag, and a hammer with which they beat the bag, 
 when lo ! there issues from it a plentiful supply of 
 food and drink ; and thumping it a second time, they 
 get from it silver and gold trinkets. After feasting to 
 their hearts’ content, they replace the sack and the 
 hammer and disappear. Then the poor man conies 
 out of his place of concealment and takes away these 
 wonderful things. Of course, he soon becomes very 
 rich, which his brother observing, he inquires the cause 
 of his sudden prosperity, and is told the whole story. 
 He sets off at once to the spot where the Dakinis were 
 seen by his lucky brother, in hopes of being equally 
 fortunate ; but when the Dakinis discover him, they 
 call out one to another, This is he who stole our sack 
 and hammer 1 Let us kill him.” In the end they 
 merely draw out his nose till it is four ells long, and 
 then tie nine knots on it. The wretched man hides 
 himself till it is dark, when he creeps home and fright- 
 
 to the city, he found the damsel leprous, cured her with some of the 
 same water, and got back his treasures. 
 
102 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 ens his wife by his appearance. How to get rid of his 
 knotted nose perplexes him, till at length he sends for 
 his brother, tells him how he had been treated by the 
 Dakinis, and promises to give him half his wealth if 
 he will cure his sore affliction by means of his magic 
 hammer. The brother consents, and at each stroke of 
 the hammer one of the knots disappears ; but when 
 eight of them have been thus removed, the wife of the 
 avaricious one, thinking to save the money they had 
 promised for the cure, seizes the hammer and runs 
 with it into an inner room, where afterwards, attempt- 
 ing to do away the ninth knot on her husband’s nose, 
 she struck him such a blow with the hammer that he 
 was killed outright. 
 
 The covetous man is always punished in fairy tales. 
 Another instance is furnished in the Irish legend of 
 JMick Purcell, who was reduced by a succession of 
 bad harvests to take his only cow to market for sale. 
 On his way he meets with — or is overtaken by — a 
 strange -looking little grey man, who gives him in 
 exchange for his cow a bottle, which, the little man 
 assures him, would make him rich in a very short 
 time : all he had to do was to go home, make his 
 wife sweep the floor, spread a clean cloth over the 
 table ; then set the bottle on the ground, saying these 
 words, '' Bottle ! do your duty ” — and he would see 
 the end of it. Mick goes home accordingly, and 
 having strictly followed the little man’s instructions, 
 he had no sooner said, Bottle ! do your duty,” when 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 103 
 
 '' two tiny little fellows rose like light from the bottle, 
 and in an instant covered the table with dishes and 
 plates of gold and silver, full of the finest victuals 
 that ever were seen, and when all was done went 
 into the bottle again. . . . Next day Mick went to 
 Cork and sold his plate, and bought a horse and cart, 
 and began to show that he was making money ; and 
 they did all they could to keep the bottle a secret : 
 but for all that, their landlord found it out, and came 
 to Mick one day and asked him where he got all his 
 money — sure it was not by the farm ; and he bothered 
 him so much, that at last Mick told him of the bottle. 
 His landlord offered him a deal of money for it, but 
 Mick would not give it, till at last he offered to give 
 him all his farm for ever. So Mick, who was very 
 rich, thought he’d never want money, and gave him 
 the bottle. But Mick was mistaken : he and his 
 family spent money as if there was no end of it; 
 and, to make the story short, they became poorer and 
 poorer, till at last they had nothing left but one cow ; 
 and Mick once more drove his cow before him to sell 
 her at Cork fair, hoping to meet the old man and get 
 another bottle.” Mick does meet the little old man 
 again, and receives another bottle from him in ex- 
 change for his cow. Eeturning home in great glee, 
 he at once begins to try the virtue of the bottle ; — the 
 floor is swept, the table covered with a nice clean 
 cloth, and then Mick sets his bottle on the ground 
 and calls out, '' Bottle 1 do your duty.” In a twink- 
 ling, 'Hwo great stout men with big cudgels issued 
 
104 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 from the bottle and belaboured poor Mick and his 
 wife and all his family, till they lay on the floor, 
 when in they went again.” As soon as Mick was 
 recovered from the effects of his beating, he got up, 
 and tucking the bottle under his coat, sets off to the 
 house of his landlord. ''Well, what do you want 
 now?” "Nothing,” says Mick, "only IVe another 
 bottle.” " Oh ho ! is it as good as the first ? ” "A 
 great deal better, as I will show you, before these 
 ladies and gentlemen.” " Come along then,” says the 
 landlord. So Mick sets it on the floor, saying, 
 " Bottle ! do your duty,” and suddenly the landlord 
 was tumbled on the floor ; ladies and gentlemen, ser- 
 vants and all, were running and roaring and sprawl- 
 ing and kicking and shrieking. Wine - cups and 
 salvers were knocked about in every direction, until 
 the landlord called out, " Stop these two devils, 
 Mick Purcell, or 111 have you hanged.” "Theyll 
 never stop,” says Mick, " till I get my own bottle 
 that I see up there on the top of that shelf.” " Give 
 it down to him,” says the landlord — "give it down 
 to him before we are killed.” Mick put his bottle 
 in his bosom ; in jumped the two men into the other 
 bottle, and he carried them home. After this Mick 
 got richer than ever, and his son married his landlord’s 
 only daughter.^ 
 
 To the same wide cycle of folk-tales, in which the 
 
 1 ‘ Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland.’ By J. 
 Crofton Croker ; edited by Thomas Wright : “ Legend of Bottle Hill.” 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 105 
 
 virtuous are rewarded and the greedy and avarici- 
 ous are justly punished, belongs this Polish tale, from 
 M. Leger’s collection : An old man begs food of a 
 woman called Blazkow^a, who refuses him, saying 
 merely, '' God help you.” He then applies for relief 
 to a charitable woman named Janova, who takes from 
 her children two buttered slices of bread which she 
 had cut for them and gives them to the old man, say- 
 ing, '' May God give you something better ; this is all 
 I have in my hut.” The beggar replies, ''May God 
 return it to you, kind woman, tenfold ! May you ever 
 have clothing for your children, and what you begin to 
 do to-day may you be unable to finish to-night.” She 
 thanks him for his good wishes, and he goes off. But 
 she has no food for her children, and what is she to 
 do ? She had lately spun some flax, of which the 
 weaver had made twenty ells of cloth ; it was her only 
 wealth, and she was keeping it for winter clothing; 
 but now she was compelled to sell a portion of it to a 
 Jew, in order to obtain the means of support for herself 
 and her children. So she begins to measure the cloth : 
 ell succeeds ell, until she had measured a hundred and 
 eight ells by sunset, and still she had not come to the 
 end. Thousands of ells passed through her hands ; 
 time pressed ; it is too late now to go to the Jew : she 
 takes a few ells to her neighbour, the greedy woman, 
 Blazkowa, who gives her but a trifling sum of money, 
 which she took to feed her children. Next day Janova 
 goes to the village fair, and her linen was found to be 
 so fine that she had a good and ready sale, and re- 
 
106 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 turned home quite wealthy. Her neighbour Blaz- 
 kowa is envious of her good luck, and invites her to 
 her house. Over a little glass ” she learns the source 
 of J anova’s wealth, and the latter promises to send the 
 old beggar-man to Blazkowa, should he come back 
 again. A week later the beggar returns. Janova 
 entertains him, and then sends him to Blazkowa. As 
 soon as she saw him coming, she gave her children 
 two slices of bread-and-butter, and when the old man 
 entered she snatched them from the children and gave 
 them to him. “ May God reward you,” says he ; “ and 
 what you now do may you go on doing till sunset.” 
 She had got some linen and her ell-measure ready, 
 when her children crying for water to drink, she ran 
 with her pitcher to the well ; but no sooner had she 
 returned than she felt compelled to go again for another 
 pitcherful, and so she kept on carrying water till 
 sunset.^ 
 
 An exact parallel story is current in China : Once 
 upon a time Fo came down to this world to try the 
 hearts of men, and was hospitably received by a kind 
 widow. She sat up all night to make him a new shirt, 
 and on leaving next day Fo pronounced this blessing, 
 '' May God reward you for what you have done to me, 
 and may the first thing that you begin to do after I 
 leave not cease till the sun sets.” Thoughtless of the 
 meaning of his words, the widow began to measure her 
 cloth, to see how much was left, and she measured on 
 till sunset before coming to the end of the piece. The 
 
 1 ‘ Contes Populaires Slaves.’ Paris ; 1 882. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 107 
 
 room was full of linen, and she had become a rich 
 woman. A miserly neighbour, hearing of this good 
 fortune, placed herself at her door in the hope of find- 
 ing an equally profitable deed of charity. Fo appears 
 in rags as before, and is treated by this woman in the 
 same way as the other had done. On leaving next 
 morning he gave her a similar blessing. Her pig at 
 that moment began to grunt, and she thought to her- 
 self, “ I shall be measuring linen and unable to feed 
 the pig, so I had better give him some water before 
 beginning/’ She took up her pail, and began to pour 
 out some water, but soon found that she had not the 
 power of stopping. There she stood and poured on and 
 on till sunset, when the whole village was inundated, 
 and she had to endure the ill-will of all her neigh- 
 bours.^ 
 
 In the collection of Sicilian popular tales by Laura 
 Gonzenbach, we find a tablecloth, to which, when it 
 is spread out, one has only to say, '' Dear little table- 
 cloth, give macaroni,” or roast meat, and it supplies 
 whatever is required ; a purse, which furnishes as 
 much money as may be wanted ; and a pipe, which 
 when played upon compels all who hear it to dance — 
 like the marvellous pipe of the Pied Piper of Hamelin, 
 and the magic violin of French and German fairy 
 tales.^ 
 
 ^ ‘National Review,’ 1857, vol. v. pp. 398, 399. — The well-known 
 Greek legend of Philemon and Baucis is of the same class : Hospi- 
 tality Rewarded. 
 
 ^ In the romance of Huon of Bourdeaux, Oberon, king of the 
 
108 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Northern folk-lore is peculiarly rich in ingenious 
 modifications of such wonder-working things. In 
 Powell and Magnusson’s ' Legends of Iceland ’ (second 
 series), Hans, the Carl’s Son, receives from a dwarf a 
 stone which was of such a peculiar nature that, when 
 one kept it in the palm of the ha^d, no one could see 
 the holder of it ; next he gave^, him a sword, saying, 
 ‘"It will cut, and it can be\made so small that you can 
 put it in your pocket, but it will grow to its full size 
 when you like ; ” lastly, the dwarf gave him a ship, 
 which he could^ carry in his pocket — '' But when you 
 like,” said the dwarf, you can have it as large as 
 you need, eVen as large as seaworthy vessels ; and it 
 is one of its powers that it goes with equal speed 
 against the wind and with it.” 
 
 In the Norse tale of the Best Wish (Sir G. Dasent), 
 three brothers are each bequeathed the accomplish- 
 ment of a wish: the two elder brothers wish that 
 whenever they put their hands in their pockets they 
 should find money there — a reflection, perhaps, of the 
 legend of Midas. The youngest wished that every 
 woman who saw him should fall in love with him, 
 and then he sets out on his travels. An innkeeper’s 
 wife becomes enamoured of him, and presents him 
 with a pair of scissors, which could of themselves cut 
 
 fairies, presents the hero with a bugle, one of whose virtues was to 
 inspire whosoever heard it with such extraordinary mirth that they 
 were utterly unable to repress the transports it occasioned. A similar 
 magic pipe forms the chief subject of the old English tale of ‘‘ The 
 Frere and the Boy,” printed, with a preface by Thomas Wright, from 
 a manuscript preserved in Cambridge University Library. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 109 
 
 out of the air the loveliest garments. Another hostess 
 gives him a tablecloth, which covered itself with the 
 finest kinds of food the moment it was spread. A 
 third gave him a tap, from which, whenever he pleased, 
 he could draw the best liquors. In another Norse tale, 
 Katie Woodencloak — which presents several points 
 of resemblance to the modern Greek story of Xylo- 
 Marie — we read of a wishing -hull, in whose ear is a 
 cloth, which, taken and spread out, furnishes as many 
 dishes as may be desired. There can be little doubt 
 that this is the wishing-cow of Hindu legend, which 
 plays an important part in the great Indian epic 
 ' Eamayana.’ In other Norse tales we find a blue belt, 
 which gives superhuman strength to the wearer, and 
 a wishing-ring. — It was by means of an invisible ringi 
 that Angelica escaped the embraces of Eogero, in Ari-1 
 osto’s ‘jDrlando Furioso ' (xi. 6, Eose’s translation) : / 
 
 Then softly to her mouth the hoop conveys, 
 
 And, quicker than the flash which cleaves the skies. 
 
 From hold Kogero’s sight her beauty flies. 
 
 As disappears the sun concealed in clouds. 
 
 So, too, in Berni’s ' Orlando Innamorato ’ there is a 
 ring, which, put on the finger, renders enchantment 
 of no effect, and, placed between the lips, confers in- 
 visibility.^ And in the 46th chapter of the Anglican 
 " Gesta Eomanorum ’ we are told how a king bequeathed 
 
 ^ According to Plato, Gyges, a shepherd of Lydia, by means of a 
 ring which rendered him invisible, introduced himself to the wife of 
 Candaules, king of Lydia, murdered the latter, and got possession of 
 the kingdom. 
 
no 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 to his youngest son a ring, that won the wearer the 
 love of all men ; a brooch, which gave him whatever 
 he wished for ; and a cloth, that conveyed whoever sat 
 upon it whithersoever he desired to go.^ 
 
 The youngest of a tailor’s three sons, who leave 
 home to seek their fortunes, in the German fairy tale 
 (Grimm’s collection), finds at the foot of a tree, in a 
 great forest, a table that is covered with dainties the 
 instant the desire for such is expressed. This he 
 exchanges with a charcoal-burner for an old military 
 knapsack, which has the quality, if knocked upon by 
 the hand, of causing a corporal and six soldiers to 
 appear, ready to obey any orders. Going farther, he 
 summons the soldiers by means of the knapsack, and 
 orders them to bring him back his wishing-table from 
 the charcoal-burner, which is done immediately. He 
 next meets with another charcoal-burner, who gives 
 him in exchange for his table a hat, which has a very 
 peculiar quality : if the wearer lift it up and turn it 
 round above his head, a number of shots are fired, like 
 a discharge of artillery, so that no enemy dare ap- 
 proach ; and by means of this hat he again recovers 
 his table, which once more he exchanges with a third 
 charcoal-burner for a horn, which, when sounded near 
 
 1 Similar to the hed in the Indian story referred to on p. 88, and 
 to the carpet in the Arabian tale of Prince Ahmed and the Peri Banu. 
 Muslim writers seem to have borrowed the idea of such a wondrous 
 conveyance from the rabbinical legend of Solomon’s carpet, on which 
 he and his vast army were transported through the air great distances 
 in a few minutes ; and the rabbins may have adapted this from 
 Indian fictions. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 Ill 
 
 a town or village, causes fortresses, walls, houses, and 
 all they contain, to be thrown down in one heap of 
 confusion and ruin. 
 
 In a Bohemian variant (No. 2 of M. Leger’s French 
 collection of Slav tales), the hero takes from a giant's 
 castle a table, upon which one has merely to strike 
 thrice and say, '' A royal meal ! ” and it is before him. 
 The table he exchanges with an old man for a wonder- 
 ful bagpipe, which when played upon sends forth any 
 number of armed soldiers. By means of the bagpipe 
 he recovers his table, of course, which he again ex- 
 changes with another old man for a sack, which pro- 
 duces any number of strong castles that may be 
 necessary. The bagpipe causes its uhlans to bring 
 back the table once more, after which the hero re- 
 turns home with his treasures, and marries the king's 
 daughter. 
 
 Now observe the close analogy which these two 
 stories bear to this Kalmuk version from the Tales of 
 Siddhi Iviir : 
 
 Next morning the man descended from the tree, 
 and said to himself, '' Last night there were in this 
 spot many choice viands and liquors, and now they 
 are all vanished." And while he was thus speaking 
 he found a golden flask, and being thirsty he put it to 
 his lips, when suddenly there sprang out meat and 
 cakes, and other delicacies fit for eating. '' This," cried 
 he, is of a surety a wishing-flask, which will procure 
 him who has it everything he desires. I will take it 
 with me." And, so saying, he continued his journey. 
 
112 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 until he met with a man holding a sword in his hand, 
 and he asked him why he did so. The man answered, 
 '' This sword is called Kreischwinger, and when I say 
 to it, ' Kreischwinger, there goes a man who has taken 
 such a thing from me ; follow him and bring it back,’ 
 — it goes forth, kills the man, and brings my property 
 back again.” To this the other replied, Out of 
 this vessel springeth everything you can desire ; let 
 us exchange.” So they made an exchange, and when 
 the man went away with the flask, he who now 
 owned the sword said, '' Kreischwinger, go forth and 
 bring me back my flask.” So the sword went forth, 
 smote its former master dead, and brought the golden 
 vessel back again. And when he had journeyed a 
 little farther, he met a man holding in his hand an 
 iron hammer. Wherefore,” said he, dost thou hold 
 that iron hammer in thy hand ? ” The man answered, 
 '' When I strike the earth nine times with this hammer, 
 a great iron wall appears.” Said the other, '' Let us 
 exchange;” and when the exchange was made, he 
 sent his sword after the man to bring back his flask. 
 After this he met another man, who carried in his 
 bosom a goat-skin sack, and he asked him, “ Wherefore 
 keepest thou that sack ? ” And the man replied, This 
 sack is a very wonderful thing. When you shake this 
 sack, it rains ; if you shake it very hard, it rains very 
 heavily.” Hereupon the owner of the flask said, Let 
 us exchange,” and they did so ; and then the sword 
 went forth and slew the man, and returned to its 
 master with the golden flask. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 113 
 
 But the original form is the Buddhist story of 
 '' Sakka’s Presents/’ which is thus rendered by Dr 
 T. W. Ehys Davids : 
 
 “ Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reign- 
 ing in Benares, four brothers. Brahmans of that king- 
 dom, devoted themselves to an ascetic life, and having 
 built themselves huts at equal distances in the region 
 of the Himalaya mountains, took up their residence 
 there. The eldest of them died, and was reborn as the 
 good Sakka. When he became aware of this, he used 
 to go and render help at intervals every seven or eight 
 days to the others. And one day, having greeted the 
 eldest hermit and sat down beside him, he asked him, 
 
 ‘ Eeverend sir, what are you in need of ? ’ The hermit, 
 who suffered from jaundice, answered, 'I want fire.’ 
 So he gave him a double-edged hatchet. But the 
 hermit said, ' Who is to take this and bring firewood ? ’ 
 Then Sakka spake thus to him, ‘ Whenever, reverend 
 sir, you want firewood, you should let go the hatchet 
 from your hand and say, '' Please make me fire,” and it 
 will do so.’ So he gave him the hatchet, and went to 
 the second hermit, and asked him, 'Eeverend sir, 
 what are you in need of ? ’ Now the elephants had 
 made a track for themselves close to his hut, and he 
 was annoyed by the elephants, and said, ' I am much 
 troubled by elephants; drive them away.’ Sakka, 
 handing him a drum, said, ' Eeverend sir, if you 
 strike on this side of it, your enemies will take to 
 flight ; but if you strike on this side, they will become 
 friendly and surround you on all sides, an army in 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
114 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 fourfold array.’ So he gave him the drum, and went 
 to the third hermit, and asked him, 'Eeverend sir, 
 what are you in need of ? ’ He was also afflicted with 
 jaundice, and said therefore, ' I want sour milk.’ So 
 he gave him a milk-bowl, and said, ' If you wish for 
 anything, and turn this bowl over, it will become a 
 great river, and pour out such a torrent that it will be 
 able to take a kingdom, and give it to you.’ And so 
 he went away. But henceforward the hatchet made 
 fire for the elder hermit ; when the second struck one 
 side of his drum the elephants ran away; and the 
 third enjoyed his curds. 
 
 '' Now at that time a wild boar, straying in a for- 
 saken village, saw a gem of magical power. When he 
 seized this in his mouth, he rose by its magic into the 
 air, and went to an island in the midst of the ocean. 
 And thinking, 'Here I ought to live,’ he descended 
 and took up his abode in a convenient spot under an 
 iidumlara tree. And one day, placing the gem before 
 him, he fell asleep at the foot of the tree. Now a 
 certain man of the land of Kasi had been expelled 
 from home by his parents, who said, ' This fellow is 
 of no use to us.’ So he went to a seaport and em- 
 barked in a ship as a servant to the sailors. And the 
 ship was wrecked, but by the help of a plank he 
 reached that very island. And while he was looking 
 about for fruits, he saw the boar asleep, and going 
 softly up, he took hold of the gem. Then by its 
 magical power he straightway rose right up into the 
 air. So, taking a seat on the tree, he said to himself. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 115 
 
 Methinks this boar must have become a sky-walker 
 through the magic power of this gem. That’s how he 
 got to be living here. It’s plain enough what I ought 
 to do : I’ll first of all kill and eat him, and then I can 
 get away.’ So he broke a twig off the tree and dropped 
 it on his head. The boar woke up, and not seeing the 
 gem, ran about trembling this way and that way. The 
 man seated in the tree laughed. The boar, looking up, 
 saw him, and dashing his head against the tree, died 
 on the spot. But the man descended, cooked the 
 flesh, ate it, and rose into the air. And as he was 
 passing along the summit of the Himalaya range he 
 saw a hermitage, and descending at the hut of the 
 eldest hermit, he stayed there two or three days and 
 waited on the hermit, and thus became aware of the 
 magic power of the hatchet. ' I must get that,’ thought 
 he. And he showed the hermit the magic power of 
 the gem, and said, ' Sir, do you take this, and give me 
 your hatchet.’ The ascetic, full of longing to be able 
 to fly through the air, did so. But the man, taking 
 the hatchet, went a little way off, and letting it go, 
 said, ' 0 hatchet, cut off thou his head, and bring the 
 gem to me.’ And it went and cut off the hermit’s 
 head and brought the gem. Then he put the hatchet 
 in a secret place, and went to the second hermit, and 
 stayed there a few days ; and having become aware of 
 the magic power of the drum, he exchanged the gem 
 for the drum, and cut off his head too in the same way 
 as before. Then he went to the third hermit, and saw 
 the magic power of the milk-bowl, and exchanging the 
 
116 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 gem for it, caused his head to be cut off in the same 
 manner. And taking the gem, the hatchet, the drum, 
 and the milk-bowl, he flew away up into the air.” ^ 
 
 Such supernaturally endowed objects are- common 
 to the folk-lore of all countries, and are of ancient 
 date. In the Greek legends there is the wondrous 
 horn of Amalthea, which produced a never-failing sup- 
 ply of food. In early British romance we And the 
 dish or napkin of Ehydderich the Scholar, which pro- 
 vided a splendid banquet, and the Horn of Bran, which 
 produced whatever liquors were called for. In the 
 Indian romance, ‘ Sinhasana Dwatrinsati ’ (Thirty-two 
 Tales of a Throne), the magical objects are various and 
 numerous : an inexhaustible purse ; earth, which, when 
 rubbed on the forehead, overcomes all enemies, and 
 none dare oppose its possessor ; a stick, which during 
 the flrst part of the night furnishes ornaments studded 
 with jewels, in the second part a beautiful girl, in the 
 third part confers invisibility, and in the fourth part 
 a deadly foe or death; a garland of flowers, which 
 renders the possessor invincible and secures success; 
 a lotus-flower, which produces a diamond each day, 
 and never fades. In the Persian romance of ‘ Hatim 
 Tai,’ the hero obtains from the mouth of a dragon a 
 pearl that restored sight to the blind, cured the bite 
 of a snake, endeared the possessor to friend or foe, 
 
 ^ ‘ Buddhist Birth -Stories.’ Translated, from the Pali text of V. 
 Fausboll, by T. W. Rhys Davids. London : Triibner & Co. 1880. 
 Vol. I. This is, according to the learned translator, the oldest extant 
 collection of folk-tales, in which are found the germs of many Eastern 
 as well as Western stories and apologues. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 117 
 
 secured victory in battle, conferred profound wis- 
 dom and boundless wealth, and rendered all creatures 
 obedient to his commands.^ In the 'Katha Sarit 
 Sagara,’ a poor woodcutter receives from a party of 
 Yakshas (a species of semi-celestial beings) a pitcher, 
 from which, whenever he put in his hand, he could 
 have an inexhaustible supply of food and drink ; but 
 should the pitcher be broken, it would at once and for 
 ever disappear. For some time after this the woodcutter 
 lived in happiness and prosperity, until one evening, 
 while he was entertaining his friends, he took the pitcher 
 and placed it on his shoulder, and began to dance and 
 caper about, when suddenly the pitcher fell to the 
 ground and was broken in pieces, and immediately 
 it reverted to its former possessor, leaving “the last 
 state of that man worse than the first,’' since he could 
 not be content to enjoy his fortune reasonably.^ The 
 prototype of all inexhaustible vessels, bowls, flasks, &c., 
 
 ^ Hatim was a chief of the Arab tribe of Tai, and flourished shortly 
 before the promulgation of IsMm. He was famed for his unbounded 
 generosity, and even at the present day throughout the East no 
 higher praise can be bestowed on a generous man than to say that 
 he is “as liberal as Hatim.” In the Persian romance, Hatim has been 
 adopted for the hero solely because of his renown : the marvellous 
 exploits which are there ascribed to him are purely imaginary, of 
 course. The incidents in the romance — which is very entertaining, 
 and of which an English translation by Duncan Forbes was published 
 in 1830 — are for the most part traceable to ancient Indian sources. 
 
 ^ This story reappears in the Persian romance, ^ Tuti Nama ’ (Par- 
 rot-Book) of Nakhshabi, where it is interwoven with the tale of the 
 Singing Ass. It is omitted in KMeri’s abridgment of the ‘Tuti 
 Ndma.’ In Bartsch’s Meklenburg stories a man gets possession of 
 an inexhaustible beer-can, and immediately after telling how he got 
 it, the beer vanished. 
 
118 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 is the widow's cruse, of which we read in the First 
 Book of Kings (ch. xvii. 14), although it possessed only 
 a temporary virtue.^ 
 
 According to Korse legend. King Frodi had a quern 
 (or hand-mill, such as is still used in the East), which 
 ground peace and plenty. Gold was so abundant, that 
 golden armlets lay untouched from year's end to year’s 
 end on the king’s highway. In Frodi’s house were 
 two maidens of the old giant race, Fenja and Menja. 
 These daughters of the giant he had bought as slaves, 
 and he made them grind his quern, Grotti, out of which 
 he used to grind peace and gold. . . . He kept them 
 to the mill, nor gave them longer rest than the cuckoo's 
 note lasted, or they could sing a song. But the quern 
 was such that it ground anything that the grinder 
 chose, though until then it had ground nothing but 
 gold and peace. So the maidens ground and ground, 
 and one sang their piteous tale, in a strain worthy of 
 JEschylus, as the other rested. They prayed for rest 
 and pity, but Frodi was deaf. Then they turned in 
 giant mood, and ground no longer peace and plenty, 
 
 ^ During a famine in Ceylon, which continued for twelve years, a 
 priest on a journey stopped at the house of a man named Sakka. 
 “There remained of his store only one scanty meal of rice, which 
 without hesitation he ordered to be dressed for his guest. His charity 
 was rewarded : his little modicum became inexhaustible, and sup- 
 ported his family and all the country round as long as the drought 
 and famine lasted. Though a Gowanse only, the people out of grati- 
 tude raised him to the throne, and as a perpetual memento they made 
 the commencement of his reign an era, which is still in common use. 
 The first year of Sakka corresponds with 621 of Buddha and with 78 
 of our era.” — Davy’s ‘Account of Ceylon,’ p. 298. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 119 
 
 but fire and war. Then the quern went fast and furi- 
 ous, and that very night came Mysing, the sea-rover, 
 and carried off the quern, and slew Frodi and all his 
 men, and so Frodi’s peace ended. The maidens the 
 sea-rover took with him, and when he got on the high 
 seas he bade them grind salt : so they ground, and at 
 midnight they asked if he had not salt enough ; but 
 he bade them still grind on ; so they ground, till the 
 ship was full and sank — Mysing, maids, and mill and 
 all — and that’s why the sea is salt.”^ 
 
 The magic quern figures also in Icelandic story : A 
 poor man having obtained from a mysterious individ- 
 ual a quern that would grind whatever it was ordered 
 to grind, on repeating this charm — 
 
 Grind neither malt nor salt ; 
 
 Grind in the name of the Lord. 
 
 Very soon his house was filled with all needful articles. 
 At length it occurred to him that it would be a good 
 thing to have some money to spend, although, in truth, 
 he needed none, as he had plenty of everything. So 
 he bade the quern grind gold ; and the quern ground 
 on, and ground pure gold. This was done time after 
 time, so that he shortly became mighty rich in gold. 
 Then said he to his wife, he fain would know how 
 much gold they had. She answered that she deemed 
 that not needful ; she only knew they had plenty of 
 it, as of everything else. But he had no peace till he 
 found out by what means to measure his gold. As 
 
 ^ Dasent’s ‘ Popular Tales from the Norse.’ 
 
120 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 they themselves had no measure, he ran to his brother’s 
 house and asked him for one. The rich brother bade 
 his wife to lend him the measure. She did so ; but 
 said to herself, “What, in the wide world, can they 
 have to measure ? ” And, so saying, she took resin 
 and smeared the measure with it, where the sides and 
 bottom meet, and then gave it to her brother-in-law. 
 He went home, and having measured his gold-dust 
 gave back the measure. His sister-in-law took it and 
 looked within, and saw that all round the bottom gold- 
 dust clave to it. She then took it to her husband, and 
 said, “ Your brother measures gold, while we measure 
 only rye.” ^ So the rich man went and learned from 
 his brother all about the wonderful quern, and offered 
 to exchange his manor for it, to which the latter, being 
 already sufficiently wealthy, agreed. And the cottage- 
 farmer moved to the manor, and took to himself all 
 his brother’s possessions. But the other bought him- 
 self a vessel, and embarked in it, taking nothing with 
 him but his wife, his children, and his quern, thinking 
 that he had made a marvellous gain by his bargain. 
 When he was a good distance from the coast, he set to 
 work to put the quern in trim, in order that it might 
 grind them all they needed, and he repeated this 
 verse — 
 
 Grind neither malt nor salt ; 
 
 Grind in the name of the Lord ! 
 
 1 The reader will not fail to be struck with the resemblance wdiich 
 this incident bears to one in the Arabian tale of Ali Baba and the 
 Forty Thieves ; it is, indeed, of frequent occurrence in folk-tales 
 everywhere. 
 
INVISIBLE CAPS AND CLOAKS, ETC. 
 
 121 
 
 But do and say whatever he would, the quern stood 
 still and immovable, till at last he grew angry, and 
 cried out, in a wild rage : 
 
 Grind, then, both malt and salt ; 
 
 Grind in the name of the Lord ! 
 
 Then the quern began grinding malt and salt, and in 
 a short while overcharged the vessel, and as there were 
 no means, anyhow, of stopping the quern, the end of 
 it was that the vessel sank with all on board of it, and 
 has never since been seen.” ^ 
 
 The Norwegian version of this tale concludes differ- 
 ently : The elder brother, having obtained the quern, 
 orders it to grind broth and herrings, but he did not 
 know how to stop it, so the broth and herrings filled 
 his house, and flowed over all his fields, and he gladly 
 restored it to the hero, who sold it to a skipper. When 
 the skipper was out at sea, he told the quern to grind 
 salt for his cargo, and after the ship was filled, the 
 quern continued to grind away till the ship sank and 
 
 ^ Powell and Magnusson’s ‘ Icelandic Legends,’ second series, pp. 
 16-20. — There are some points of resemblance between this story and 
 the Kalmuk tale of the Avaricious Brother, ante, pp. 101, 102. In the 
 commencement of the Icelandic story, the rich brother kills an ox 
 one day, and the poor one goes to ask him for a piece of the flesh, for 
 he is in sore distress for want of food. At first he is refused by the 
 rich brother, but in the end he gets one of the thighs of the ox, and 
 is told, in a rage, to ‘‘go along with it to the devil.” The poor fellow 
 thinks his brother meant what he said, and sets off to deliver the 
 meat to the fiend, and receives in return the magic quern, which, as 
 we have seen, is the cause of the rich brother’s destruction. — It is 
 curious to observe in fairy tales of this kind that the possessor of a 
 wealth-giving thing is always so foolish as to sell it for money ! 
 
122 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 all were drowned ; and as the quern still grinds, the 
 sea is always salt.^ 
 
 We have thus seen that the purse and hat of Fortu- 
 natus, and the sword, shoes, coat, and cap of the re- 
 nowned Jack, have their counterparts among '' all 
 peoples, and kindreds, and tongues,” and to the numer- 
 ous and varied magical objects which have passed 
 under our review may be added, without by any means 
 exhausting the list — the lamp of Aladdin, which (or 
 rather, the '' slave ” of which) procured him everything 
 he desired ; the purse of Bedredden Hasan, which the 
 fairy always kept filled for him ; the Sangreal, which 
 furnished the knights of Arthur’s Eound-Table with a 
 grand banquet ; and the table of the Ethiopians, which 
 Herodotus tells us was covered with all kinds of 
 dainties. 
 
 ^ Dasent’s ‘ Popular Tales from the Norse.’ 
 
123 
 
 GOLD - PEODUCING ANIMALS. 
 
 O OMETIMES, in place of an inexhaustible purse, we 
 find a tree, a beast,^ a bird, and even the human 
 person represented as producing in the same marvel- 
 lous manner a daily supply of gold. Our nursery tale 
 of the goose that daily laid a gold egg has its parallels 
 in the folk-tales of Europe generally, and finds coun- 
 terparts in Indian fiction. According to the Latin 
 ^sop (ed. 1658) : '' He that seeketh to get more than 
 he ought, ofttimes getteth nothing ; as saith the fable 
 of a man which had a goose that laid every day an 
 egg of gold. The man, out of covetousness, commanded 
 her that she should lay every day two eggs, and she 
 said, ' Certainly, my master, I may not.’ Whereupon 
 the man was wroth with her and slew her, by means 
 whereof he lost his profit, and afterward waxed very 
 sorrowful.” ^ But in our modern nursery version, the 
 
 ^ Such as the ram and the wishing-hull of Norse tales, already men- 
 tioned, pp. 89 and 109. 
 
 2 This fable is ascribed to Avian, a Latin writer of the fourteenth 
 century, who imitated Phsedrus. — It is thus briefly related by Bab- 
 
124 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 goose (it is a hen in some editions of JEsop) is killed 
 in expectation of finding a lump of gold in her insided 
 In the course of Jack the Giant-Killer’s memorable 
 adventures, he finds among the treasures of one of his 
 ^ cousins ” a gold-laying hen ; and in the story of Jack 
 and the Bean-stalk, the hero steals a wonderful hen 
 that lays a gold egg as often as the possessor says 
 
 Lay.” — In the 13th fable of Book hi. of the ' Pancha- 
 tantra’ we read of a bird that perched upon a tree 
 and voided pure gold : she is captured by a huntsman, 
 who presents her to the king, describing her wonderful 
 qualities ; but the king’s foolish advisers persuade him 
 to discredit the huntsman’s story, and set the bird at 
 liberty. In the noble Indian epic ' Mahabharata,’ it 
 is related that King Srinjaya obtained as a boon from 
 the sage Narada that he should have a son whose 
 nature was such, that all that issued from his body 
 was of gold. The king’s wealth in consequence in- 
 creased enormously. The son was, however, carried off 
 and killed by robbers, who hoped to get gold from his 
 
 rius : A bird once laid golden eggs. Wishing to take the gold from 
 her, a lover of gold killed her, and lost the very great gift of fortune.” 
 
 ^ Mr Baring- Gould says, “ The golden egg laid every morning by 
 the red hen is the dawn-produced sun.” And Dr Rhys Davids thus 
 explains the origin of the legend of the goose that laid golden eggs : 
 
 The word hansa (pronounce hangsa), generally translated goose, 
 means more exactly a wild-duck ; and the epithet golden, in descrip- 
 tion of its beauty of colour. But the word hansa is etymologically 
 the same as our word goose (compare German gans)^ and the epithet 
 golden, when applied to a goose, being meaningless as descriptive of 
 outward appearance, gave rise to the fable of the goose with the 
 golden eggs. The latter, therefore, is a true myth, born of a word- 
 puzzle, invented to explain an expression which had lost its meaning 
 through the progress of linguistic growth.” — Both absurdly wrong ! 
 
GOLD-PRODUCING ANIMALS. 
 
 125 
 
 body, but were disappointed.^ Here we seem to have the 
 original of our nursery story of the gold-laying goose. 
 
 Serpents are celebrated producers of gold, and also 
 of jewels of talismanic power, in fairy tales. In the 
 Kalmuk ' Eelations of Siddhi Kiir/ the son of the 
 khan, after killing the yellow serpent, eats its head, 
 and lo ! he can spit out gold in any quantity; his com- 
 panion eats the head of the green serpent, and can 
 spit out emeralds. The 5th fable of Book iii. of the 
 ' Panchatantra ’ is of the same class as our story of the 
 goose that laid eggs of gold : 
 
 “ In a certain country dwelt a Brahman who reaped 
 no benefit from the cultivation of his grounds. As he 
 was reposing one day in the hot season under the shade 
 of a tree, he dreamt that he beheld a large hooded 
 snake, coiled upon an ant-hill, at a little distance ; and 
 waking from his dream, he concluded that the snake 
 must be the tutelary deity of the spot, who was little 
 pleased with him, as one from whom he had never 
 received any veneration. The Brahman determined 
 therefore to worship him, and boiling some milk, he 
 placed it in a vessel, and carried it to the ant-hill, ex- 
 claiming, as he laid the cup upon the ground, ' Lord 
 of the soil, I have hitherto been ignorant of thy place 
 of residence, and therefore have only forborne thy 
 worship ; forgive my negligence, and accept my obla- 
 
 ^ ‘ Metrical Translations from Sanskrit Writers,’ by Dr John Muir, 
 p. 27. — There are also birds that void gold in the ‘ Mahdbh^rata.’ In 
 La Fontaine’s ‘ Contes et Nouvelles’ there is a little dog “qui secoue 
 de I’argent et des perreries ; ” and an ass with the same gift in the 
 Signora von Gonzenbach’s ‘ Sicilianische Marchen.’ 
 
126 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 tion.i So saying, he left the milk and went home. 
 When he visited the ant-hill in the morning following, 
 he found in place of the milk a dinar, and this was 
 repeated daily. At last the Brahman, having occasion 
 to go to the village, appointed his son to present an 
 oblation of milk in his absence. When the lad, upon 
 the ensuing morning, found the dinar as usual, it oc- 
 curred to him that the mound must be filled with coin, 
 and that it would be the most eligible plan to kill its 
 serpent owner, and seize at once upon the whole of the 
 treasure.^ Arming himself, therefore, with a stick, he 
 lay in wait for the snake, as he was lapping the milk, 
 and struck him on the head. The blow failed to kill 
 the snake, and the animal, inflamed with wrath, bit 
 the lad with his venomous fangs, so that he immedi- 
 ately died. The body was burnt by his people, who 
 were at hand, and saw what had chanced. The father 
 returned on the day following, and, when he had heard 
 the cause of his son’s death, was satisfied that the 
 
 1 Regarding serpent- worship, see Tylor’s ‘Primitive Culture,’ vol. ii. 
 p. 217. 
 
 2 It is a popular belief throughout the East that serpents and 
 dragons are the guardians of concealed treasure. The notion was 
 probably derived from the Hindus, although it also prevailed among 
 the ancient Greeks ; for example : the Scythian griffins; that guarded 
 the treasures coveted by the Arimaspians, and the dragon that watched 
 the golden apples of the Hesperides. In the ‘ Nibelungenlied,’ the 
 dragon Fafnir keeps guard over a vast treasure of gold ; Sigurd fights 
 and slays him, and takes away all the treasure. And in Eastern fic- 
 tion, whenever the adventurous hero comes to a valley strewed with 
 diamonds and other precious stones — Sindbdd’s diamond-valley is not 
 the only one ! — the treasures are invariably found guarded (or, which 
 is all the same, the place is infested) by multitudes of fierce serpents 
 and similar creatures. 
 
GOLD-PRODUCING ANIMALS. 
 
 127 
 
 event was not unmerited, declaring that the vital 
 elements will be ever snatched from those who show 
 no tenderness to those living creatures that repair to 
 them for preservation, as happened to the swans and 
 their lake. The persons present asked him to explain 
 this allusion, and he thus replied : 
 
 '' ' In a certain country reigned Chitraratha, in whose 
 gardens was an extensive lake, guarded by his troops. 
 In this lake were golden swans, who moulted a feather 
 once in every six months. A large bird, having joined 
 them, was refused admission to their troop, they claim- 
 ing the exclusive occupation of the lake, by the fee 
 of the moulted feather. After much discussion, the 
 stranger-bird applied to the king, and said : '' Sire, 
 these swans have had the audacity to say, ' What have 
 we to do with the king ? We will not allow any one 
 to preside here ; ’ and it was to no purpose that I ex- 
 postulated with them on the impropriety of such lan- 
 guage, and threatened to bring it to your knowledge.” 
 The king, having heard this, commanded his servants 
 to go and kill the birds, and bring them to him ; and 
 they set off with this intent. When they approached 
 the lake, an old swan, suspecting their purpose, per- 
 suaded the rest to fly away; and thus, although they 
 preserved their lives, they lost the residence which 
 they refused to share with a guest.’ ^ 
 
 '' Having related this tale, the Brahman proceeded 
 to worship the snake. But the serpent could not be 
 tempted forth, but showing himself at the entrance of 
 
 ^ But the king lost his half-yearly fee of a golden feather. 
 
128 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 his hole, he thus spoke : ' Avarice brings thee hither, 
 and banishes all sorrow for thy son's fate, but there 
 cannot be any cordiality between thee and me. In 
 the insane presumption of youth, your son struck me ; 
 I have bitten him and killed him : how is it possible 
 for me ever to forget his violence ? How is it possible 
 that you should ever forget his death ? Take this 
 jewel, then; depart, and never more approach this 
 place.' Having thus spoken, and cast a gem of in- 
 estimable value to the Brahman, he withdrew into his 
 hole. The Brahman took the jewel, but, considering 
 its value very much inferior to what he might have 
 acquired by long assiduous homage, never ceased to 
 lament the folly of his son." ^ 
 
 This story seems to be an adaptation of the legend 
 of the king's son in the ' Mahabharata ' already referred 
 to ; and it forms the 141st tale of Swan's translation 
 of the ‘ Gesta Eomanorum,' as follows : 
 
 In the reign of the Emperor Eulgentius, a certain 
 knight named Zedechias married a very beautiful but 
 imprudent wife. In a certain chamber of their man- 
 sion a serpent dwelt. Now the knight's vehement 
 inclination for tournaments and jousting brought him 
 to extreme poverty ; he grieved immoderately, and, 
 like one who was desperate, walked backward and 
 forward, ignorant of what he should do. The serpent, 
 beholding his misery, like the ass of Balaam, was on 
 
 ^ “ Analytical Account of the Pancha Tantra,” by Horace Hay man 
 Wilson, in ‘ Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain 
 and Ireland.’ Vol. i. 1827. 
 
GOLD-PRODUCING ANIMALS. 
 
 129 
 
 this occasion miraculously gifted with a voice, and 
 said to the knight, ' Why do you lament ? Take my 
 advice, and you shall not repent it. Supply me every 
 day with a certain quantity of sweet milk, and I will 
 enrich you.’ This promise exhilarated the knight, and 
 he faithfully followed the instructions of his subtle 
 friend. The consequence was that he had a beautiful 
 son, and became exceedingly wealthy. But it hap- 
 pened that his wife one day said to him, ' My lord, I 
 am sure that serpent has great riches hidden in the 
 chamber where he dwells. Let us kill him, and get 
 possession of the whole.’ The advice pleased the 
 knight, and at the request of his wife he took a ham- 
 mer to destroy the serpent, and a vessel of milk. Al- 
 lured by the milk, it put its head out of the hole, as it 
 had been accustomed to do, and the knight lifted the 
 hammer to strike it. The serpent, observing his per- 
 fidy, suddenly drew back its head, and the blow fell 
 upon the vessel. No sooner had he done this than 
 the knight’s offspring died, and he lost everything that 
 he formerly possessed.” In the sequel, the knight’s 
 wife urges him to go to the serpent and humbly 
 acknowledge his offence; he does so, but the ser- 
 pent replies that he can never forget the blow aimed 
 at him, and henceforward there could be no peace 
 between them. The knight then departed, bitterly 
 regretting that he had followed his wife’s counsel.^ 
 
 1 One of the fables of Marie de France, who flourished in the middle 
 of the 13th century, “ Le Villain et le Dragon,” was in all likelihood 
 the direct source of the ‘ Gesta ’ story. (See Le Grand’s ‘ Fabliaux,’ 
 
 VOL. 1. I 
 
130 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 The story is told differently in the Latin ^sop, 
 which was composed in the fifteenth century ; the ser- 
 pent does not give gold, but his presence is the cause 
 of good fortune to a poor man : 
 
 He that applies himself to do other men harm 
 ought not to think himself secure ; wherefore ^sop 
 rehearseth this fable. There was a serpent which 
 came into the house of a poor man, and lived of that 
 which fell from the poor man’s table, for the which 
 thing there happened great fortune to this man, and 
 he became rich. But on a day this man was very 
 angry against the serpent, and took a sword and smote 
 at him, wherefore the serpent went out of the house 
 and came no more thither again. A little after, this 
 man fell again into great poverty, and then he knew 
 that by fortune of the serpent he was become rich, 
 wherefore it repented him that he had driven away 
 the serpent. Then he went and humbled himself to 
 the serpent, saying, ' I pray thee that thou wilt par- 
 don me the offence that I have done thee.’ And the 
 serpent said, ‘ Seeing thou repentest thee of thy mis- 
 deed, I forgive thee ; but as long as I shall live I shall 
 remember thy malice, for as thou hurtedst me, so thou 
 mayest again.’ Wherefore that which was once evil 
 shall ever so be held : men ought therefore not to in- 
 sult over him of whom they receive some benefit, nor 
 yet to suspect their good and true friends.” 
 
 ed. 1781, vol. V. p. 405.) — In a version from Bukhara cited by Rev. 
 Dr Wolff in his journal (see ‘ The Morning Watch’, 1832-33), the man’s 
 son attempts to kill the gold-giving serpent after his father’s death. 
 
GOLD-PRODUCING ANIMALS. 
 
 131 
 
 In No. 17 of Dozon’s collection of Albanian Tales ^ 
 we have a similar story of a gold-producing lion : A 
 poor man, who had a wife and one son, gained a 
 scanty livelihood by carrying stones on asses to the 
 neighbouring city. On one occasion he went a greater 
 distance for stones than was his wont, and discovered 
 a great lion sunning himself. The lion, on seeing him, 
 rose up, at which the man would have fled, being much 
 terrifled ; but the beast, as if to reassure him, lay down 
 again, and he then drew somewhat nearer, when the 
 lion dropped from his mouth a piece of gold of the 
 value of 1000 piastres. The man hastened home and 
 showed this windfall to his wife, who, like himself, 
 was full of joy. He goes again next day, with the 
 same result, and so for some days, when, by the advice 
 of his wife, he erects an iron railing around the lion, 
 with a gate for entry, and begins to feed the invaluable 
 animal with 4 ocques of meat and 3 ocques of milk 
 daily, receiving in return the same golden present 
 each time he came with the food. The people soon 
 begin to wonder at their neighbour’s wealth, and 
 somehow come to know about the lion ; and the boys 
 jeer at his son, calling him a booby, because he does 
 not know that his father is really a mere carrier of 
 stones, and that his wealth is obtained from a lion. 
 Stung by their jeers and flouts, the lad goes to his 
 mother, and worms out of her all the particulars, and 
 insists upon going to see the lion, but she is afraid lest 
 
 ^ ‘ Contes Albanais,’ recueillis et traduits par Auguste Dozon. 
 Paris : 1881. 
 
132 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 he should be killed, as the beast did not know him : 
 ultimately she gives him the key of the cage, and he 
 sets off on horseback, accompanied by a servant. He 
 enters the cage, springs on the lion with a drawn 
 sabre, and is instantly torn in pieces. The servant 
 returns home and recounts the youth’s fate to his 
 parents, who are distracted with grief. The father 
 erects a tomb for his son near the lion’s cage, but the 
 beast gives no more a piece of gold. At length he 
 goes to the lion one day with his usual supply of food, 
 and with tears begs him to renew his former gifts, for 
 he is now become very poor. '' Thou hast killed my 
 son,” says he, '' but I bear thee no hatred on that 
 account.” To which the noble animal replied, “I 
 shall give thee, it is true, the piece of gold, and thou 
 shalt give me the usual ration : but none the less is 
 our friendship at an end ; for thou, seeing here the 
 tomb of thy son, wilt curse me — hatred and fear will 
 fill thy heart ; and I, thinking on the blood which has 
 flowed from my tail, shall wish to see thee no more. 
 Yet, if thou continuest to feed me, I will give thee the 
 piece of gold.” 
 
 These stories of gold-producing animals, it will be 
 readily perceived on comparing them, are each alter et 
 idem ; the moral ” being one that runs at large,” and 
 thus neatly expressed in our own vernacular : '' Don’t 
 kill the goose that lays the golden eggs ! ” 
 
133 
 
 ADVENTURES WITH GIANTS, TROLLS, GHULS, ETC. 
 
 TN a former paper it is said that the story of J ack 
 and the Giants came to us from the North, and 
 that the Northern legends and tales of adventures 
 with trolls and similar monsters are also found in 
 Eastern fiction; and in order to prove this, let us 
 take one or two of the renowned Jack’s valiant ex- 
 ploits, from the veracious chap-book narrative. 
 
 Jack, we are told, “having got a little money, 
 travelled into Flintshire, and came to a large house 
 in a lonesome place ; and, by reason of his present 
 necessity, he took courage to knock at the gate, when, 
 to his amazement, there came forth a monstrous giant 
 with two heads, yet he did not seem so fiery as the 
 former giants, for he was a Welsh giant.” The story 
 informs us that this giant was of a less savage dis- 
 position because of his breakfasting on a great basin 
 of hasty-pudding. Our hero, having undressed him- 
 self, was about to lie down on the bed appropriated 
 to him, when he heard the giant say to himself, as he 
 walked towards another chamber — 
 
134 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 “ Though here you lodge with me this night, 
 
 You shall not see the morning light ; 
 
 My club shall dash your brains out quite.” 
 
 “ Say you SO muttered Jack; ‘'is that one of your 
 Welsh tricks ? But I hope to be quite as cunning 
 as you, my friend.” Then, looking about the room, 
 he found a thick billet and laid it on the bed in his 
 stead, and hid himself in a dark corner of the room. 
 In the dead time of the night came the giant with his 
 club, and struck several blows on the bed where Jack 
 had craftily laid the billet, and then returned to his 
 own room, supposing he had broken all Jack’s bones. 
 Early in the morning J ack came to thank the giant 
 for his lodging. “ Oh,” said the giant, “ did you see 
 anything last night?” “No,” said Jack; “but a rat 
 gave me three or four slaps with its tail.” ^ 
 
 Compare this with the device practised by the giant 
 
 1 In a subsequent adventure Jack enters the castle of the giant 
 Thondel, who speedily discovers his presence though he does not see 
 him, exclaiming — 
 
 “ Fe, fa, fum ! 
 
 I smell the blood of an Englishman ; 
 
 Be he alive, or be he dead, 
 
 I’ll grind his bones to make me bread.” 
 
 That our story of Jack and the Giants is older than the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth seems evident from the occurrence of part of the 
 giant’s exclamation in Shakspeare’s ^ King Lear,’ where Edgar, as 
 Mad Tom, sings (Act. hi. sc. 5) — 
 
 “ Child Rowland to the dark tower came, 
 
 His word was still. Fee, foh, and fum, 
 
 I smell the blood of a British man.” 
 
 It is curious to find a similar expression in Scandinavian stories, in 
 which trolls, giants, and ogres exclaim, when the hero is concealed in 
 the house, “ I smell Christian flesh ! ” Thus also in French tales : 
 
ADVENTURES WITH GIANTS, TROLLS, ETC. 135 
 
 Skrymer, when he accompanied Thor on his journey 
 to TJtgard, which is found related in the 12th chapter 
 of the Edda of Snorro : At midnight the mighty son 
 of earth laid himself to sleep beneath an oak, and 
 snored aloud. Thor, the giant-killer, resolved to rid 
 himself of his unsuspicious companion, and struck 
 him with his tremendous hammer. ''Hath a leaf 
 fallen upon me from the tree ? ’’ exclaimed the awak- 
 ened giant. The giant soon slept again, and snored, 
 as the Edda says, as loudly as if it had thundered in 
 the forest. Thor struck the giant again, and, as he 
 thought, the hammer made a mortal indentation in 
 his forehead. " What is the matter ? ’’ quoth Skrymer ; 
 " hath an acorn fallen on my head V A third time 
 the potent giant snored, and a third time did the 
 hammer descend, " with huge two-handed sway,’' and 
 with such force that Thor weened the iron had buried 
 itself in Skrymer’s temples. " Methinks,” quoth Skry- 
 mer, rubbing his cheek, "some moss hath fallen on 
 my face.” Thor might well be amazed at the escape 
 of the giant; but Skrymer had outwitted his enemy 
 by placing an immense rock on the leafy couch, where 
 Thor supposed he was sleeping, which received the 
 blows of the hammer instead. 
 
 And in the Albanian story of the Bear and the 
 
 Femme, je sens la viande fraiche, la chair de chretien ! ” In Italian 
 stories of ogres, etc. — 
 
 “ Fmn ! fmn ! 
 
 Sento odour di cristianum ! ” 
 
 And in Indian stories of rdkshasas is the same formula as that of 
 Jack’s giant Thondel : Fee, faw, fum ! This room smells of man’s 
 flesh ! ” 
 
136 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Dervish, we read that the bear told his mother and 
 his sister to sharpen the axe, for he must kill that 
 man, he is so strong; but the bear’s sister warned 
 the dervish of this, so he concealed himself. During 
 the night the bear made three or four strokes with his 
 axe on the bed, and went back to sleep. In the morn- 
 ing he went out early for wood, and was surprised on 
 his return to see the dervish alive and well. ''Did 
 nothing happen to you during the night ? ” asked he 
 of the dervish. " Nothing, except that three or four 
 fleas bit me.” — Dozen’s ' Contes Albanais.’ 
 
 Jack, it will be remembered, having escaped being 
 pulverised by the giant in the manner aforesaid, sits 
 down to breakfast with his two-headed host. The 
 giant placed a huge bowl of his favourite hasty- 
 pudding on the table, and invited Jack to help him- 
 self. Jack had secretly fastened his scrip beneath 
 his jacket, and instead of swallowing each spoonful he 
 slipped a great deal into the scrip, and when at length 
 the giant could eat no more. Jack told him that he 
 could easily relieve his stomach without hurting him- 
 self, and thus be ready to eat as much more: so 
 saying, he slit open the scrip with his knife, upon 
 which the Welsh giant, exclaiming, "Hur can do 
 that hurself,” ripped himself open, and immediately 
 expired. 
 
 This incident occurs in the Norse tale of the Youth 
 who ate a match with a Troll. The young man has 
 a soft new cheese in his scrip, and when the troll 
 threatens to kill him, he takes it out, and in his turn 
 
ADVENTUKES WITH GIANTS, TEOLLS, ETC. 137 
 
 threatens to squeeze the troll as he squeezes the 
 water out of '' this white stone!' The troll is fright- 
 ened, and makes his peace with the young hero. 
 When it is supper-time the troll undertakes to make 
 up the fire, while the lad goes to fetch water for their 
 porridge, in his iron pails, which he could not so much 
 as lift from the ground. ‘‘ Pooh ! ” said he, '' it isn’t 
 worth while to touch these finger-basins ; I’ll just go 
 and fetch the spring itself.” The troll can’t afford to 
 lose his spring, so he fetches the water himself. When 
 the porridge was ready, the lad proposed they should 
 eat a match, and hanging his scrip in front of him, 
 he spooned more into it than he ate himself. At last 
 the troll is quite gorged with the porridge he has 
 supped, upon which the lad tells him that he ought 
 to cut a hole in his paunch as he had done (in his 
 scrip) ; and being assured that it didn’t hurt, the troll 
 cut his paunch open, and died on the spot.^ 
 
 The Albanian story of the Bear and the Dervish, 
 already cited, presents several points of resemblance 
 to these incidents in the Norse tale : A shepherd 
 being much annoyed by a bear that devoured five or 
 six of his sheep every day, a dervish undertook to rid 
 him of the pest, and, having obtained of the shepherd 
 three skins of cream cheese, set off in quest of the 
 bear, whom he soon met, when they began each to 
 brag of his own strength. '' I’ll crush you as small as 
 
 ^ See Dasent’s ‘ Popular Tales from the Norse ’ ; also Thorpe’s 
 * Yule-Tide Stories ’ : “ The Boy who contended with the Giant in 
 Eating” (Swedish version), pp. 245-249 of Bohn’s edition. 
 
138 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 this stone/’ said the dervish, at the same time slyly 
 taking a cheese from his wallet, and crushing it into 
 powder. The bear tried to do the same with a stone, 
 hut failed, so he deemed it prudent to make friends 
 with such a strong man. Supper-time drawing nigh, 
 the bear proposed to the dervish that he should go and 
 carry off an ox, while he went for wood. '' Get an ox 
 for yourself,” quoth the dervish indignantly ; nothing 
 less than a lion will do for me.” Admiring his friend’s 
 prowess, the bear went and got an ox : meanwhile the 
 dervish had gone to the wood and tied all the trees 
 together, and when the bear returned he was astonished 
 to see preparation made to tear up the whole wood at 
 one pull, and he mildly observed, '' One or two 
 branches will be quite sufficient for us ; ” but the 
 dervish said superciliously, ''That isn’t my way — all 
 or none ; you may take one or two branches, if that is 
 all you want.” The bear took two branches, and while 
 the ox was being roasted the dervish went for water ; 
 but when he had filled the skin he could not carry it 
 home, so he sat down and waited till the bear came, 
 two hours after, to see what was detaining him. " I 
 am considering,” said the dervish, " how to convey this 
 whole rock and the spring, for it would be a disgrace 
 for such a man as I am to carry a skin of water.” 
 Hearing this, the bear took up the skin and carried it 
 home. The death of the bear was not brought about 
 in the same manner as that of Jack’s friend the two- 
 headed giant, and the Lad’s friend the Troll : After 
 the bear had wrestled with the dervish, and hugged 
 
ADVENTURES WITH GIANTS, TROLLS, ETC. 139 
 
 him SO that his eyes were starting from his head, but 
 gave up when he heard the dervish say he was con- 
 sidering on which side he had better throw him ; and 
 the futile attempt to kill the dervish while he slept, 
 as already related ; the bear requested that his friend 
 would make him as strong as himself. '' Quite easy,’’ 
 quoth he; ''a skin of boiled milk is all you need.” 
 The milk is boiled in a great cauldron, and the dervish 
 told the bear to dip his hand into it thrice : at the 
 third dip he tumbled the bear into the scalding liquid, 
 and there was an end of him. 
 
 Similar incidents are found in the Sicilian story of 
 the Brave Shoemaker (Gonzenbach’s collection), 'fhe 
 hero provides himself with some balls of plaster of 
 Paris and cream cheese, and sets off to kill a fierce 
 giant. When he hears the giant coming, he climbs 
 into a tree ; but the giant, having scented him, orders 
 him to come down. The cobbler replies that if he 
 does not leave him alone he will wring his head off ; 
 and as a proof of his strength, he crushes the balls of 
 plaster of Paris between his hands, telling the giant 
 they are marble. At this the giant is frightened, and 
 invites the cobbler to his house. When they get 
 there, the giant asks him to fetch some water in a 
 pitcher from the well, and the cobbler says if the giant 
 will give him a strong rope he will bring the well 
 itself. The giant, in terror, takes the huge pitcher 
 and draws the water himself. Then the giant requests 
 him to cut some wood, but the hero asks him for a 
 strong rope with which to drag the whole tree to the 
 
140 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 house. Next the giant proposes a trial of strength, to 
 see which could carry a heavy stick the longer. The 
 cobbler says the giant had better wind something 
 about the thick end, for when he (the cobbler) turned 
 a somersault with it he might hurt the giant. When 
 they went to bed, the giant made the cobbler sleep 
 with him ; but the hero crept under the bed, leaving 
 a pumpkin in his place. The giant, who was anxious 
 to get rid of the cobbler, took an iron bar and struck at 
 the pumpkin all night, believing it to be the cobbler’s 
 head. After he had beaten the pumpkin to pieces, 
 the cobbler under the bed gave a sigh. What is the 
 matter with you ? ” asked the terrified giant. '' A flea 
 has just bitten my ear,” replied the cobbler. Next 
 day the cobbler proposed to the giant to cook a great 
 pot of macaroni, and after they had eaten it, he would 
 cut open his stomach to show that he had eaten with- 
 out chewing it ; the giant to do the same afterwards. 
 The cobbler, of course, secretly tied a sack about his 
 neck, and put his macaroni in it ; then he took a knife 
 and ripped open the bag, and the macaroni fell out. 
 The giant, in attempting to follow the cobbler’s 
 example, killed himself. Then the cobbler cut his 
 head off, carried it to the king, and obtained his 
 daughter’s hand in marriage. 
 
 In a Milanese story, a cobbler, being tired of cob- 
 bling, said to himself one day, ‘'Now I will go and 
 seek my fortune.” So he bought a little cheese, and 
 put it on the table. It got full of flies, so he took an 
 old shoe and hit the cheese, and slew the flies. Then 
 
ADVENTUKES WITH GIANTS, TEOLLS, ETC. 141 
 
 he counted them, and found 500 were killed and 400 
 wounded. After this he girded on a sword, and put 
 on a cocked hat, and went to court, and said to the 
 king, I am the chief of warriors ; 500 have I slain 
 and 400 have I wounded.’’ The king answered, 
 '' Since you are a warrior, you must be brave enough 
 to climb yonder mountain, where there are two 
 magicians, and kill them. If you do so, I shall give 
 you my daughter.” Then he gave him a white flag to 
 wave when he had killed them. '' Sound the trumpet,” 
 he added, '' and bring me the heads of the magicians 
 in a bag.” So the cobbler departed and came to an 
 inn, and the innkeeper and his wife were none other 
 than the magicians. He asked for lodging and food 
 and all he needed. Afterwards he went to his room, 
 but before going to bed he looked at the ceiling, and 
 there saw a great stone over the bed. Instead of 
 getting into the bed, he got into a corner. When a 
 certain hour struck, the magicians let the stone drop, 
 and it crushed the whole bed. The next morning the 
 cobbler went down and said he could not sleep for the 
 noise. They told him they would change his room. 
 The same thing happened the next night, and in the 
 morning they told him they would give him another 
 room. When it was a certain hour the man and his 
 wife went to the forest to cut a bundle of faggots. 
 Then the magician went home, and the cobbler, who 
 had made ready a sickle, said, ''Wait until I help you 
 to take the bundle off your back,” and gave the magi- 
 cian a blow with the sickle, and cut off his head. He 
 
142 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 did the same thing when the magician’s wife Teturned. 
 Then he unfurled his flag, and sounded his trumpet, 
 and the band went out to meet him. After he had 
 arrived at court, the king said to him, '' Now that 
 you have killed the two magicians, you shall marry 
 my daughter.” But the cobbler had got so used to 
 drawing the thread that he did so in his sleep, and 
 kept hitting his wife so that she could not rest. Then 
 the king gave him a great sum of money, and sent him 
 home.^ 
 
 A Persian legend, related by the Shah’s own story- 
 teller to Sir John Malcolm, bears a striking resem- 
 blance to the Norse tale of the Youth and the Troll, 
 as well as to our nursery tale. Amin of Ispahan, 
 when he meets with a ghul,^ has in his pocket an egg 
 and a lump of salt. He tells the ghiil that he has 
 come out in search of ghiils, upon whom to try his 
 strength and prowess. The ghiil says, ‘'You don’t 
 appear to be very strong.” “ Perhaps not,” says Amin, 
 “ but appearances are often deceiving ; I will give you 
 a proof of my strength. There,” he continued, picking 
 up a stone, “ this contains a fluid ; try if you can 
 squeeze it so that it will flow out.” The ghiil took the 
 stone, but after a short attempt returned it, saying, 
 “ It is impossible.” “ Quite easy,” quoth Amin, taking 
 
 1 ‘Italian Popular Tales.’ By T. F. Crane (London : 1885), p. 94ff. 
 
 ^ Ghuls (commonly written ghouls) are a species of demons, believed 
 by Muslims to feed on human flesh, and to have the power of assum- 
 ing any form they please, to decoy unwary travellers. They bear 
 some resemblance to our ogres, the lamiae of the Greeks, and to the 
 rdkshasas, vetalas, &c. of Indian mythology. 
 
ADVENTURES WITH GIANTS, TROLLS, ETC. 
 
 143 
 
 the stone and placing it in the hand in which he had 
 before put the egg ; '' look there ! ’’ and the astonished 
 ghiil, while he heard what he took for the breaking of 
 the stone, saw the liquid run from between Amin’s 
 fingers, and this apparently without any effort. Aided 
 by the darkness, Amin placed the stone upon the 
 ground, while he picked up another of darker hue. 
 '' This,” said he, '' I can see contains salt, as you will 
 find if you can crumble it between your fingers.” But 
 the ghiil, looking at it, confessed he had neither know- 
 ledge to discover its qualities nor strength to break 
 it. “ Give it me,” said Amin impatiently, and having 
 put it into the same hand with the piece of salt, he 
 instantly gave the latter all crushed to the ghiil, who, 
 seeing it reduced to powder, tasted it, and remained in 
 astonishment at the skill and strength of the wonder- 
 ful man. Amin consents to stay with the ghiil all 
 night. His grim host points to a bag made of the 
 hides of six oxen, and bids him go and fill it with 
 water, while he makes ready a fire. While the ghiil 
 is absent in search of faggots, Amin with great 
 difficulty drags the bag to the bank of a dark stream 
 which issued from the rocks at the other end of the 
 cavern. After some minutes’ reflection he thought of 
 a plan, and began digging a small channel from the 
 stream towards the place where supper was being 
 prepared. “ What are you doing ? ” shouted the ghiil, 
 as he advanced towards him. I sent you for water 
 to boil a little rice, and you have been almost an hour. 
 Cannot you fill the bag and bring it away ?” '' Certainly 
 
144 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 I can/' said Amin. If I were content, after all your 
 kindness, to show my gratitude merely by feats of 
 brute strength, I could lift your stream if you had a 
 bag as large as could hold it ; but here," said he, point- 
 ing to the channel he had begun — '' here is the com- 
 mencement of a work in which the mind of man is 
 employed to lessen the labour of the body. This canal, 
 small as it may appear, will carry a stream to the other 
 end of the cave, in which I will construct a dam that 
 you can open or shut at pleasure, and thereby save 
 yourself infinite trouble in fetching water. But, pray, 
 let me alone till it is finished," and resumed his digging. 
 
 Nonsense," said the ghul, seizing the bag and filling 
 it ; ''I will carry the water myself : and I advise you 
 to leave off your canal, as you call it, and follow me, 
 that you may eat your supper and get to sleep. You 
 may finish this fine work, if you like, to-morrow morn- 
 ing." . . . Amfn places a large pillow in the middle of 
 his bed, to make it appear as if he was still there, and 
 retires to a concealed part of the cavern to watch the 
 proceedings of the ghiil. The latter awoke a short 
 time before daylight, and, without making any noise, 
 went towards Amin’s bed, where, not observing the 
 least stir, he was satisfied that his guest was in a deep 
 sleep ; so he took one of his walking-sticks, which was 
 in size like the trunk of a tree, and struck a terrible 
 blow at what he supposed to be his head. He smiled 
 at not hearing even a groan, thinking he had killed 
 him outright ; but to make sure he repeated the blow 
 seven times. He then returned to rest, but had hardly 
 
ADVENTUKES WITH GIANTS, TKOLLS, ETC. 145 
 
 settled himself to sleep when Amm, who had crept 
 into bed, raised his head above the clothes, and ex- 
 claimed, “ Friend ghul, what insect could it be that has 
 disturbed me by its tapping ? I counted the flap of its 
 little wings seven times on the coverlet. These vermin 
 are very annoying, for, though they cannot hurt a man, 
 they disturb his rest.” The ghuTs dismay at hearing 
 Amm speak at all was great, but that was increased to 
 perfect fright when he heard him describe seven blows, 
 any one of which would have felled an elephant, as 
 seven flaps of an insect’s wing. There was no safety, 
 he thought, near so wonderful a man; and he soon 
 afterwards arose and fled from the cave, leaving Amm 
 its sole master. Having armed himself with a match- 
 lock, which had belonged to some victim of the ghiil, 
 Amm proceeded to survey the road. He had, however, 
 only gone a short distance when he saw the ghiil 
 returning with a large club in his hand, and accom- 
 panied by a fox. Amin’s knowledge of the cunning 
 animal instantly led him to suspect that it had un- 
 deceived his enemy, but his presence of mind did not 
 forsake him. '' Take that,” said he to the fox, aiming 
 a ball at him from his matchlock and shooting him 
 through the head — '' take that, for your not performing 
 my orders. That brute,” he said then to the glnil, 
 ‘'promised to bring me seven ghuls, that I might 
 chain them and carry them to Ispahan, and here he 
 has only brought you, who are already my slave.” So 
 saying, he advanced towards the ghul ; but the latter 
 had already taken flight, and by the aid of his club 
 VOL. I. 
 
 K 
 
146 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 bounded so rapidly over rocks and precipices, that he 
 was soon out of sight.^ 
 
 The motif of all stories of this character is the supe- 
 riority of intelligence to mere physical strength : the 
 monsters that are tricked by clever little folks, whether 
 giants, trolls, ogres, bears, lions, or tigers,^ are invari- 
 ably represented as being extremely stupid and credu- 
 lous. In Steel and Temple’s ' Wide-Awake Stories ’ 
 there is a Kashmiri tale (which also occurs in the 
 ' Suka Saptati,’ or Seventy Tales of a Parrot, a San- 
 skrit collection), of which the catastrophe is similar to 
 that of the Persian story of Amin and the Ghiil, last 
 cited, and also finds parallels in European folk-lore : 
 One day a farmer went to his field to plough with his 
 bullocks. He had just yoked them when a tiger 
 walked up to him and saluted him; the farmer re- 
 turned the salute, when the tiger said that the Lord 
 had sent him to eat his two bullocks. The farmer 
 promised that he would bring him a fine milch-cow 
 instead. But his wife objected, and, putting on the 
 farmer’s best clothes, set off, man-fashion, on the pony 
 to where the tiger was waiting. She called out, “I 
 hope I may find a tiger in this field, for I have not 
 tasted tiger’s flesh since the day before yesterday, 
 when I killed three.” The tiger, on hearing this, 
 turned tail and fled into the jungle, where he met a 
 jackal, who asked him why he ran so fast, and was 
 
 ^ Malcolm’s ‘ Sketches of Persia,’ ch. xvi. 
 
 2 In fairy tales animals which play the parts of ogres and giants are 
 simply the latter in other forms. 
 
ADVENTUEES WITH GIANTS, TEOLLS, ETC. 
 
 147 
 
 told that a tiger-eating demon was after him. The 
 jackal tells him that it is only a woman ; but the tiger 
 is still afraid, and the jackal and he knot their tails 
 together, in order that one should not escape at the 
 other’s expense. When the woman sees them she 
 calls out to the jackal, '' This is very kind of you to 
 bring me such a fat tiger ; but, considering how many 
 tigers there are in your father’s house, I think you 
 might have brought me two.” The tiger, more fright- 
 ened than before, ran off, dragging the jackal after 
 him, and the officious jackal was killed by being 
 bumped against the stones.^ 
 
 The same plan is adopted to frighten a dragon in 
 No. 23 of Hahn’s modern Greek stories : Lazarus 
 the Cobbler having one fine day actually killed forty 
 flies with a single blow, he made for himself a sword 
 on which he wrote Forty at a blow,” and set off in 
 quest of warlike adventures. He meets a dragon, who, 
 reading these words, asked Lazarus to make friends 
 with him, and introduces him to a number of other 
 
 ^ A variant of this is found in the Chinese tales and fables appended 
 to M. Stanislas Julien’s French rendering of the ‘Avadanas,’ in which 
 a tiger having seized a monkey was about to devour him, when the 
 monkey, bethinking himself of some means of escape, suggested that 
 he was too small to make a good meal for a tiger, and offered to con- 
 duct his captor to a neighbouring hill where a far more noble prey 
 might be captured. This was a stag who, rightly assuming that the 
 tiger had come for a most unfriendly purpose, concluded that his only 
 chance was to put a bold face upon the matter, and accordingly 
 addressed the monkey as follows : “ How is this ? You promised me 
 ten tiger-skins, but you have only brought one — you still owe me 
 nine.” The tiger on hearing this became alarmed, and instantly 
 decamped, saying that he never thought the monkey would be so 
 treacherous. — See also my ‘Book of Sindibdd,’ pp. 70, 71. 
 
148 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 dragons, who, being afraid of his prowess, give him 
 much gold to go away. The first dragon meets a fox, 
 who undeceives him as to the pretended strength and 
 courage of Lazarus, and the better to convince him, 
 offers to conduct him to the cobbler. But when they 
 come up with him, Lazarus, nothing daunted, cries to 
 the fox, I told you to bring me all the dragons, and 
 you have only brought one,” upon which the dragon 
 scoured off, in terror for his life. 
 
 Another adventure with a stupid tiger — a substi- 
 tute for the trolls and giants of Northern folk-lore — 
 is related in the Santali story of two brothers, Kauran 
 and Guja, translated by the Eev. F. F. Cole, in the 
 ' Indian Antiquary,' voL iv. : The brothers were in the 
 jungle one day, as usual, for the purpose of digging up 
 roots, on which they subsisted. They came to a tiger’s 
 den, and offered him some pieces of charcoal, pretend- 
 ing they were roots, and that they had kept the half- 
 roasted ones to themselves. The tiger asks them a 
 riddle : One I will eat for breakfast, and another like 
 it for supper.” They answer, Oh, uncle, we cannot 
 tell ; but we will ask you another riddle : One will 
 twist the tail and another the ear.” Hearing this, the 
 tiger gets into a great fright, and is about to make his 
 escape, when Kauran seizes his tail, which in the 
 ensuing struggle is wrenched off. The tiger runs 
 away in search of his tiger-friends, and comes back 
 with a whole host of them to the tree up which 
 the brothers have escaped. The tailless tiger pro- 
 poses that they should stand one on another till they 
 
ADVENTURES WITH GIANTS, TROLLS, ETC. 149 
 
 are high enough to reach the brothers, which is done ; 
 but in the meantime Kauran calls to his brother, 
 '' Give me the axe, and I will kill the tailless tiger.” 
 The latter, in great terror, struggled to make his 
 escape, and in so doing upset the whole party, who 
 were resting upon him, while they in their fall crushed 
 the poor tailless tiger to death, and, overcome by 
 terror, fled out of sight. 
 
 The concluding incident in the story of the Stupid 
 Wolf, No. 18 of Leger's collection of Slav tales, is to 
 the same effect: The wolf, after many attempts to 
 satisfy his hunger, and getting nothing but kicks and 
 blows till he could scarcely crawl, meets with a tailor, 
 and tells him that he has been sent by the Lord to eat 
 him. '' What are you, who are going to eat me ? ” 
 asked the tailor. A wolf.” '' You lie : you’re only a 
 dog; you’re too small for a wolf. Let me measure 
 you.” So saying, he seized the wolf by the tail, and 
 turning him round in his hand, stretched him out till 
 the wolf was out of breath, and his tail came off. 
 
 You’re an archine ^ long,” said the tailor. Over- 
 whelmed with grief, the wolf escaped and went to his 
 wolf-friends, to whom he related his misadventures, 
 and they all set off after the tailor. When he saw 
 them coming he climbed into a tree. “ Brothers,” said 
 the stupid wolf, “ I’ll stand upright against the tree ; do 
 you mount one after the other upon me, making a 
 staircase, and we shall take vengeance on that rascal 1 ” 
 So they got up, one upon the other. Ah, ah ! ” cried 
 
 1 Russian measure : 70 centimetres. 
 
150 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the highest, “ wicked tailor, weVe come to eat you ! ” 
 
 Little dears — my friends,” said the tailor, '' have pity 
 upon me, and don’t eat me ! ” “ No, no, come down.” 
 
 One moment ; allow me at least to take a pinch of 
 snuff.” So he took a pinch and sneezed, atchi ! atcJii ! 
 The noodle, who was lowermost, imagined he said 
 archine, archine, and that he was going to measure the 
 wolves. Terror overcame him ; off he set, down tum- 
 bled the wolves, who ran after him and tore him to 
 pieces. So the tailor, having thus escaped, came down 
 from the tree and went home. 
 
 The story of the Brave Little Tailor, in Grimm’s 
 collection, has incidents in common with several of 
 those already cited of the tricking of monsters. The 
 little tailor, having dashed a cloth among a swarm of 
 flies and killed no fewer than seven of them, believed 
 himself a man of great prowess, and resolved to go 
 into the world and turn it to good account ; ^ so off he 
 went, wearing a girdle on which he had embroidered 
 the device, Seven at a blow.” He meets a giant, 
 and, pointing to his girdle, would persuade him that 
 he was possessed of supernatural strength. The giant 
 takes up a stone and squeezes it till water exudes 
 from it. The tailor in his turn takes a soft cheese from 
 his wallet, and makes the whey run out of it. Then 
 the giant throws a stone up into the air so far that it 
 went out of sight ; upon which the tailor takes a live 
 bird from his wallet and lets it go, and the giant be- 
 
 ^ Like the cobbler in the Italian (Milanese) story cited p. 140. 
 
ADVENTUKES WITH GIANTS, TEOLLS, ETC. 151 
 
 lieves it was a stone. Once more the giant would test 
 the little man’s strength : he bids him help to carry a 
 great tree, and the tailor saying that he will take the 
 end which has the branches, as being the heaviest, so 
 soon as the giant has raised the root-end of the tree 
 on to his shoulder, our hero slyly seats himself in the 
 branches, and the giant staggers beneath his burden 
 till he is forced to lay it down, quite exhausted. The 
 little tailor then goes home with the giant, and at 
 night, instead of going to bed, creeps into a snug 
 corner, and the giant, intending to kill him, lays on 
 the bed with an iron bar and breaks the bed: in 
 the morning, when he finds the tailor unhurt, he flies 
 off in a fright. The king, hearing of his prowess, sends 
 him to kill two giants that were the terror of his sub- 
 jects : he finds them both asleep beneath a tree ; so 
 filling his pocket with great stones, he climbs into the 
 branches, and drops the stones on them, which causes 
 them to awake; and each supposing the other had 
 struck at him while he slept, they fell to blows and 
 soon killed each other, and the brave little tailor was 
 credited with having rid the country of the two monsters. 
 His next exploit was encountering a fierce unicorn : 
 the animal, on seeing him, made a rush to destroy him 
 on the spot ; but our hero jumped behind a tree, and 
 the unicorn, running at it full force, stuck his horn 
 deep into the trunk, so that he could not withdraw 
 it, on which the little tailor broke off the horn and led 
 the unicorn into the king’s presence. After an ad- 
 
152 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 venture with a wild boar, the little tailor is married to 
 the daughter of the king.^ 
 
 In a Chilian version (of Spanish extraction), a shoe- 
 maker having killed seven flies with his fist one day, 
 dubs himself, Don Juan Bolondron, — killer-of-seven- 
 with-one-fisticuff. The king sends him off to slay a 
 ferocious boar that had killed many people. When 
 Juan sees the boar, he runs back to the palace and 
 hides behind the outer door. The beast runs after him 
 into the courtyard, and is shot by the soldiers. J uan 
 then comes forth, goes to the king, and says, ''I not 
 only wanted to kill the boar, but had brought him here 
 alive so that you might see him, and these soldiers of 
 yours have shot him.” The king praises his prowess, 
 and marries him to the princess.^ 
 
 The two last-cited stories may be compared with 
 the Kashmiri tale of Fattu Khan, the Valiant Weaver, 
 in Steel and Temple’s ‘Wide-Awake Stories.’ Fattii 
 killed a mosquito one day, just as he was throwing the 
 shuttle with his right hand. Being elated with his 
 skill and bravery, he goes out to see the world, with 
 his bundle, his shuttle, and a great loaf tied up in a 
 kerchief. He reaches a city where a dreadful ele- 
 phant came daily to make a meal of one of the in- 
 habitants, against which many mighty warriors had 
 
 1 Most of the incidents in the German tale of the Valiant Tailor 
 and in the Norse tale of the Lad and the Troll reappear in the Gaelic 
 story of Mac-a-Rusgaich ; Campbell’s ^ Popular Tales of the West High- 
 lands,’ vol. i. p. 307. 
 
 2 ‘‘ Chilian Popular Tales,” by Thomas M. Moore. ‘ Folk-Lore 
 Journal,’ vol. hi. p. 299. 
 
ADVENTURES WITH GIANTS, TROLLS, ETC. 153 
 
 gone out, but none of them ever returned. Hearing 
 this, the valiant little man said to himself, Now is 
 my chance ! To a man who has killed a mosquito 
 with one blow of a shuttle, an elephant is mere child’s 
 play.” So he went to the king, and announced that 
 he was ready single-handed to slay the elephant. The 
 king naturally thought he was mad ; but when he per- 
 sisted in his offer, he told him he was free to try his 
 luck. So at the hour when the elephant usually ap- 
 peared, Fattii Khan went out to meet him, armed 
 with his shuttle. '' It is a weapon I understand,” said 
 he to those who urged him to take a spear or a bow ; 
 “ and it has done work in its time, I assure you.” It 
 was a fine sight to see Fattii Khan strutting out to 
 kill the elephant, whilst the townspeople gathered in 
 crowds on the walls ; but alas for the valiant little 
 weaver ! No sooner did he see the elephant charging 
 down on him than all his courage oozed away. He 
 forgot that he was Fattii Khan, dropped his bundle, 
 his bread, and his shuttle, and bolted away as hard 
 as his legs would carry him. Now it so happened that 
 Fattii’ s wife had made the bread sweet and had put 
 spices into it, as she wanted to hide the taste of the 
 poison she had used with it, — for she was a wicked and 
 revengeful woman, and wanted to get rid of her tire- 
 some, whimsical little husband. The elephant, as he 
 charged past, smelt the spices, and catching up the 
 bread with his trunk, gobbled it down without stopping 
 a moment. Poor Fattii scuttled away ever so fast, 
 but the elephant overtook him. Then the little 
 
154 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 weaver, in sheer desperation, tried to double, and in 
 doing so ran full tilt against the beast. As luck 
 would have it, just at that moment the poison took 
 effect, and the elephant fell to the ground dead. Now 
 when the spectators who thronged the city walls saw 
 the monster fall, they could scarcely believe their eyes ; 
 but they were more astonished when they ran up and 
 found little Fattii sitting quietly on the elephant’s 
 dead body, and wiping his face with his handkerchief. 
 “ I just gave him a push,” said he modestly, ''and he 
 fell down. Elephants are big brutes, but they have no 
 strength to speak of.” The king makes Fattii com- 
 mander-in-chief of his army, and he undertakes to kill 
 a fierce tiger that ranged the country. On seeing the 
 tiger he climbed a tree, and the tiger waited for him for 
 seven days. Fattii tried to slip away one day while 
 the tiger was taking his noontide snooze. The tiger 
 jumps up with a roar, and Fattu’s dagger falls down 
 and enters the tiger’s mouth, and kills him. After 
 this the king gives him his daughter — as usual, in 
 this cycle of stories — and very properly, since " none 
 but the brave deserve the fair ” ! 
 
155 
 
 DRAGONS AND MONSTROUS BIRDS. 
 
 T?EOM giants and ghiils to dragons and basilisks the 
 transition is easy ; indeed they are all simply 
 personifications of natural phenomena, if we adopt 
 the theory that such tales or legends are survivals 
 of primitive Aryan (solar) myths. The best-known 
 dragon-story in Europe is probably that of St George, 
 which is thus related in the ' Legenda Aurea,’ or Golden 
 Legend, of Jacques de Voragine: 
 
 St George, a tribune, was born in Cappadocia, and 
 came to Lybia to a town called Silene, near which 
 was a pond infested by a monster which had many 
 times driven back an armed host that had come to 
 destroy him. He even approached the walls of the 
 city, and with his exhalations poisoned all who were 
 near. To avoid such visits, he was furnished each 
 day with two sheep to satisfy his voracity. If these 
 were not given, he so attacked the walls of the town 
 that his envenomed breath infected the air, and many 
 of the inhabitants died. He was supplied with sheep 
 till they were exhausted, and it was impossible to pro- 
 
156 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 cure the necessary number. Then the citizens held 
 counsel, and it was decided that each day a man and 
 a beast should be offered, so that at last they gave up 
 their children, sons and daughters — none were spared. 
 
 The lot fell one day on the princess. The monarch, 
 horror-struck, offered in exchange for her his gold, his 
 silver, and half his realm, only desiring to save his 
 daughter from this frightful death. But the people 
 insisted on the sacrifice of the maiden, and all the poor 
 father could obtain was a delay of eight days in which 
 to bewail the fate of the damsel. At the expiration of 
 this time the people returned to the palace and said. 
 Why do you sacrifice your subjects for your daughter? 
 We are all dying before the breath of this monster.” 
 The king felt that he must resolve on parting with his 
 child. He covered her with royal clothes, embraced 
 her, and said, '' Alas, dear daughter, I thought to have 
 seen myself re-born at your wedding ; to have adorned 
 you with royal garments, and accompanied you with 
 flutes and tambourines and all kinds of music ! Why 
 did I not die before you ? ” Then she fell at her 
 father’s feet and besought his blessing. He accorded 
 it her, weeping, and he clasped her tenderly in her 
 arms. Then she went to the lake. 
 
 George, who passed that way, saw her weeping, and 
 asked the cause of her tears. She replied, Good 
 youth, quickly mount your horse and fly, lest you 
 perish with me ! ” But George said to her, '' Do not 
 fear. Tell me what you await, and why all this mul- 
 titude look on ? ” She answered, '' I see that you 
 
DRAGONS AND MONSTROUS BIRDS. 
 
 157 
 
 have a great and noble heart ; yet fly ! ‘'I shall not 
 go without knowing the cause/’ he replied. Then she 
 explained all to him, whereupon he exclaimed, '' Fear 
 nothing; in the name of Jesus Christ, I will assist 
 you 1 ” '' Brave knight 1 ” said she, do not seek to 
 
 die with me. Enough that I should perish, for you 
 can neither assist nor deliver me, and you will only 
 die with me.” 
 
 At this moment the monster arose above the sur- 
 face of the water, and the virgin said, all trembling, 
 "‘Fly, fly. Sir Knight!” His only answer was the 
 sign of the cross. Then he advanced to meet the 
 monster, recommending himself to God. He bran- 
 dished his lance with such force that he transfixed it 
 and cast it to the ground. Then addressing the prin- 
 cess, he bade her pass her girdle round it, and fear 
 nothing. When this was done, the monster followed 
 like a docile hound. When they had brought it into 
 the town, the people fled before it ; but George recalled 
 them, bidding them put aside all fear, for the Lord had 
 sent him to deliver them from the dragon. Then the 
 king and all his people, twenty thousand men, with- 
 out counting women and children, were baptised, and 
 George smote off the head of the monster.^ 
 
 ^ Baring- Gould’s ‘Curious Myths of the Middle Ages,’pp. 297-299. 
 This legend, according to Mr Baring-Gould, is a solar myth. “ The 
 maiden,” he says, “ which the dragon attempts to devour is the earth ; 
 the monster is the storm-cloud ; the hero who fights it is the sun, 
 with his glorious sword, the lightning-flash.” But he does not con- 
 descend to explain the signification of the men and beasts which the 
 dragon had devoured previously. 
 
158 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 This renowned exploit of the saint of Cappadocia 
 has its analogue in the legend of Perseus and Andro- 
 meda: Cassiope having boasted that she was fairer 
 than the Nereides, Neptune, at their request, sent a 
 sea-monster to ravage Ethiopia, the country of Cepheus, 
 her husband. An oracle declared that the wrath of 
 Neptune could only be appeased by exposing their 
 daughter Andromeda to the fury of the monster, and 
 she was accordingly chained to a rock on the sea- 
 shore ; but just as the dragon was advancing to devour 
 the damsel, Perseus appeared, and plunging his dagger 
 in the monster’s right shoulder, destroyed it. 
 
 Legends such as these seem to have been common 
 in both European and Asiatic countries from very 
 ancient times. In the Danish ballad of '' Svend Fold- 
 ing’s Kamp med Eisen,” Svend is described as going 
 on a pilgrimage to Eome, and on his way arriving at 
 a city called Hovdingo, the princess of which informs 
 him that the land is being made desolate by a giant, 
 who feeds only on women and maidens. Svend under- 
 takes to encounter the monster, and a number of 
 horses are led forth that he may select one qualified 
 to bear him in the ensuing combat. The hero, of 
 course, kills the giant.^ So, too, in Ealston’s ' Eussian 
 Polk-Tales’ Ivan Popyalof eircounters and slays a 
 formidable serpent that had long devastated the 
 country. 
 
 In No. 14 of M. Dozon’s Albanian Tales, a lamia 
 
 1 See Thorpe’s ‘ Yule-Tide Stories,’ p. 344, Bohn’s ed. 
 
DEAGONS AND MONSTEOUS BIEDS. 
 
 159 
 
 (or ogress) comes to a city once a year and devours 
 many people. A damsel, disguised as a soldier, arrives 
 just as the king is preparing to deliver up his son to 
 the lamia, for she would not promise to stay away 
 unless she was regaled on royal flesh. The damsel 
 slays the lamia with one stroke of her sword, and the 
 king, after some demur, rewards the supposed soldier 
 with a wonderful horse, which plays an important 
 part in the sequel. — A similar legend is known to the 
 Chinese, according to Dr Dennys, in which it is related 
 that a huge dragon devoured a maiden once every 
 year, and the youngest of a magistrate’s six daughters 
 went off and successfully encountered the monster with 
 a good sword and a dog.^ 
 
 The slaying of dragons forms the subject of many 
 Arabian and Persian tales. In the story of the King 
 of Yemen and his Three Sons — one of the additional 
 stories translated by Jonathan Scott, in vol. vi. of his 
 edition of the 'Arabian Nights’ — we are told of a 
 dragon which on a certain day came to the city and 
 demanded a beautiful virgin to be given up to him. 
 The lot having fallen upon the king’s daughter, the 
 hero kills the monster, and is rewarded with the hand 
 of the princess. Among the innumerable exploits 
 ascribed to the Persian king Bahram-i-Ghur (i.e., of 
 the Wild Ass) is his slaying, single-handed, an enor- 
 mous elephant in India — whither he had gone in 
 
 1 ‘ Folk-Lore in China, and its Affinities with that of the Aryan 
 and Semitic Races,’ by N. B. Dennys, Ph.D. Hon g- Kong : 1876. 
 
160 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 disguise — which had kept the inhabitants in a state of 
 terror, and taken possession of the road between the 
 jungle it inhabited and the city. And in Kashmiri 
 folk-lore, two brothers, sons of a king, being ill-used 
 by their step-mother, go abroad to seek their fortunes. 
 The younger prince, having accidentally separated from 
 his brother, comes to a cottage, where he finds a poor 
 old woman evidently in great sorrow. She informs 
 him that in the neighbourhood there was a fierce 
 rakshasa (a species of demon) who every day com- 
 pelled the inhabitants of the town to supply him with 
 one cake, one goat, and one young man ; and that the 
 lot had at last fallen upon her only son. The prince 
 undertakes to confront the rakshasa ; and having ob- 
 tained from the poor woman a cake of much greater 
 size than usual, and the fattest goat she could select, 
 he goes boldly to meet the monster, who, after gorging 
 himself with the cake and the goat, falls asleep, when 
 the prince cuts off his head.^ 
 
 Indian fiction teems with similar incidents — gene- 
 rally encounters with rakshasas. There is a notable 
 instance in the ' Katha Sarit Sagara ’ : Indivarasena re- 
 ceived from the goddess Durga a sword, by the power 
 of which he should conquer all enemies, and whatever 
 he should think of he should obtain, and by means 
 of it gain the success he desired.^ Thus armed, he 
 
 ^ Steel and Temple’s ‘ Wide-Awake Stories,’ from the Pan jab and 
 Kashmir. — See also Temple’s ‘ Legends of the Panjab,’ vol. i. p. 17fF. 
 
 2 Here we have a ivishing as well as an all- conquering sword. 
 
DRAGONS AND MONSTROUS BIRDS. 
 
 161 
 
 journeyed onward, accompanied by his brother. The 
 story goes on thus : 
 
 After he had travelled a long distance he found a 
 great and splendid city, looking like the peak of Meru, 
 on account of its golden houses. There he beheld a 
 terrible rakshasa standing at the gate of the high 
 street, and the hero asked him what was the name of 
 the town, and who was its king. That rakshasa said, 
 '' This city is called Sailapura, and it is possessed by 
 our lord Yamadanshtra, the slayer of his foes, king 
 of the rakshasas.’’ When the rakshasa said this, 
 Indivarasena attempted to enter, in order to slay 
 Yamadanshtra, but the rakshasa at the door tried to 
 prevent him, upon which the mighty Indivarasena 
 killed him, cutting off his head with one stroke of his 
 sword. After slaying him, the hero entered the royal 
 palace, and beheld inside of it the rakshasa Yama- 
 danshtra, sitting on his throne, having a mouth terrible 
 with tusks, with a lovely woman at his left hand, 
 and a virgin of heavenly beauty on his right hand. 
 And when Indivarasena saw him he went with 
 the sword given him by Durga in his hand, and 
 challenged him to fight, and the rakshasa drew his 
 sword and stood up to resist him. And in the 
 course of the fight Indivarasena frequently cut off 
 the rakshasa’s head, but it grew again. Seeing that 
 magic power of his, and having had a sign made to 
 him by the maiden at the rakshasa’s side, who had 
 fallen in love with him at first sight, the prince, after 
 cutting off the head of the rakshasa, being quick 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 L 
 
162 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 of hand, again cut it in two with a stroke of his 
 sword. Then the rakshasa’s magic was baffled by 
 contrary magic, and his head did not grow again, and 
 the rakshasa died of the wound.^ 
 
 According to Danish folk-lore (says Thorpe), when a 
 cock is seven years old it lays an egg, from which, 
 when hatched, there comes forth a basilisk — an ugly 
 monster that kills people only by looking at them. It 
 is said that the only method by which this creature 
 can be destroyed is by holding a looking-glass before 
 it ; for it is so ugly that it cannot survive the sight of 
 itself.^ Thus in chapter 139 of Swan’s ‘ Gesta Eoman- 
 orum ’ a basilisk destroys the soldiers of Alexander the 
 Great, without any visible wound ; and a philosopher 
 advises that a mirror be placed so as to confront the 
 monster, which being done, it has the desired effect of 
 causing its death. Berni has adopted this idea in his 
 ' Orlgindo Innamorato,’ in the story related by the lady 
 to Einaldo while he escorts her on a journey : a lover, 
 in order to enter an enchanted garden, employs a mirror 
 to drive away the Medusa by whom it was guarded. 
 And in the Persian romance of ' Hatim Tai,’ the hero 
 comes to a village where he finds the people all lament- 
 ing and weeping bitterly. They inform him that 
 '' once every week a monster comes to our village and 
 devours one of us ; and if we do not appease him by 
 
 ^ Tawney’s translation of the ‘ Kathii Sarit S^lgara,’ Book vii. ch. 42, 
 vol. i. p. 385. 
 
 2 Thorpe’s ‘Northern Mythology,’ vol. ii. p. 143, note. 
 
DKAGONS AND MONSTROUS BIRDS. 
 
 163 
 
 the sacrifice of a human creature, he will raze our 
 abodes to the dust. At present the lot has fallen on 
 the son of our chief. On Thursday the monster will 
 come, and the four days that intervene till that time 
 are devoted to weeping and mourning. The youth’s 
 relations are at this moment standing around him, 
 extolling his virtues and lamenting his fate.” Hatim 
 engages himself, of course, to face the monster in place 
 of the chief’s son. A sketch of the creature is shown 
 him, upon which he said, '' This must be the monster 
 Haluka, who is invulnerable against all weapons ; 
 but if you follow my directions, I may be able to over- 
 come him.” Hatim then caused a huge mirror to 
 be constructed, and placed in a certain spot out- 
 side the village. The monster came for his victim 
 — in the shape of a great dome without hands or 
 feet, having a terrible mouth in the middle of his body 
 — and having approached within a few paces of the 
 mirror, on seeing the reflection of his hideous form, 
 he made the earth tremble with his roar, and, chok- 
 ing wdth rage, his conflned breath so inflated his 
 body that, like a crack of thunder, he burst, over- 
 spreading the surrounding district with his loathsome 
 entrails. 
 
 The oldest known form of these legends of devour- 
 ing monsters is found in a beautiful episode in the 
 grand Indian epic, ' Mahabharata,’ which has been 
 turned into graceful English verse by Dean Milman, 
 under the title of The Brahman’s Lament.” Professor 
 
164 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Monier Williams, in his ' Indian Epic Poetry,’ gives the 
 following outline of this ancient legend, which is called 
 in the original '' Bakabadha ” : 
 
 In the neighbourhood of Ekrachakra, a town in which 
 the Pandavas had taken refuge after the treacherous 
 attempt of their cousins to destroy them by setting fire 
 to their dwelling, resided a fierce giant, named Baka, 
 who forced the citizens to send him every day a dish 
 of food by a man, whom he always devoured as his 
 daintiest morsel at the end of the repast. The turn 
 had come to a poor Brahman to provide the rakshasa 
 with his meal. He determines to go himself, but 
 laments bitterly the hardness of his fate. Upon this 
 his wife and daughter address him in language full of 
 the deepest pathos, each in turn insisting on sacrificing 
 herself for the good of the family. Lastly, the little 
 son, too young to speak distinctly, with beaming eyes 
 and smiling face, runs to his parents, and with prattling 
 voice says, “Weep not, father; sigh not, mother!” 
 Then breaking off and brandishing a pointed spike of 
 grass, he adds in childish accents, “ With this pike I 
 will slay the fierce man-eating giant ! ” His parents 
 (so proceeds the story), hearing this innocent prattle of 
 their child, in the midst of their heartrending anguish 
 felt a thrill of exquisite delight. The end of it is that 
 Bhima,^ who overhears the whole conversation, under- 
 takes to convey the meal to the monster, and of course 
 speedily despatches him. 
 
 1 Bhima was one of the five P4ndava princes. The name signifies 
 
 The Terrible.” 
 
DEAGONS AND MONSTEOUS BIEDS. 
 
 165 
 
 '' It is considered by some authors/’ remarks Hen- 
 derson, that these legends are figurative ; that they 
 grew up and around the memory of such monsters of 
 cruelty as Attila or the infamous Baron de Eetz, who 
 are accordingly handed down to posterity with the 
 outward lineaments of dragons and suchlike mon- 
 sters. . . . Other writers see in the dragon only the 
 huge serpent, the gigantic saurian, or other enormous 
 creature, such as formerly disputed with man the 
 mastery of the world, only by degrees disappearing 
 before him. To others, again, all is pure allegory : in 
 every tale of champion and dragon they simply see 
 ‘ the ceaseless universal strife ’ between good and 
 evil."i 
 
 The notion is utterly absurd that '' such monsters of 
 cruelty as Attila and the Baron de Eetz ” are repre- 
 sented as dragons, etc., in these legends; while the 
 solar myth theory is at last being considered ‘ by the 
 most eminent comparative mythologists as quite 
 untenable. That legends of encounters with fierce 
 giants, ogres, and dragons are survivals of primitive 
 traditions of contests between Aryan tribes and the 
 savage aborigines of lands to which they migrated 
 — or, going still farther back in the early history of 
 the world, of combats between monstrous creatures 
 and men — is, however, probable to the verge of 
 certainty. 
 
 1 ‘ Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England and 
 the Borders.’ By William Henderson. Second edition, printed for 
 the Folk-Lore Society. 
 
166 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Enormous birds, which can as easily carry off an 
 elephant as the eagle flies away with a lamb in its 
 talons, frequently figure in popular Actions: of these 
 the Eoc {nUch) of the ‘Arabian Mghts’ is probably 
 most familiar to the English general reader. Mention 
 is made of this monstrous bird in the Norwegian story 
 of the Blue Belt: A party of sailors landing on the 
 coast of Arabia And “ an egg the size of a small house.’’ 
 The hero splits it with his sword, when there issues 
 from it a chicken as large as an elephant — an exact 
 parallel to an incident in one of the voyages of Sind- 
 bad the Sailor. 
 
 “ A wundervogdl' remarks Wilson, “ is the property 
 of all peoples, and the Garuda of the Hindus is repre- 
 sented by the Eorosh of the Zend, the Simurgh of the 
 Persians, the Anka of the Arabs, the Kargas of the 
 Turks, the Kirni of the Japanese, the sacred Dragon 
 of the Chinese, the Griffin of chivalry, the Phoenix of 
 classical fable, the ‘wise and ancient Bird’ that sits 
 upon the ash Yggdrasil of the Edda, and, according to 
 Faber, with all the rest, is a representation of the holy 
 cherubim that guarded the gate of Paradise. Some 
 writers have even traced the Twelve Knights of the 
 Eound-Table to the Twelve Eocs of Persian poetry.” ^ 
 
 Perhaps the earliest notice of a monstrous bird is 
 found in ‘ Buddhaghosha’s Parables,’ in the story of 
 Queen Samavati, where we read that, “ in the Kosambi 
 
 ^ Dr Horace Hayman Wilson’s ‘ Essays on Sanskrit Literature,’ 
 edited by Dr Reinhold Rost, "vol. i. pp. 192, 193, note. To these 
 monster birds may be added the Norka of Russian popular fictions. 
 
DEAGONS AND MONSTEOUS BIEDS. 
 
 ^67 
 
 country King Parantapa was one day with his queen 
 outside the palace. The queen being pregnant, the 
 king made her put on a large scarlet cloak. Just then 
 a Hatthilinga, a monstrous bird, flew down from the 
 sky, and taking the queen for a piece of flesh, fluttered 
 his wings with a tremendous noise. The king, hearing 
 the sound, went inside the palace; but the queen, 
 owing to her condition, being unable to escape, was 
 swept off by the bird, for the Hatthilinga has the 
 strength of five elephants.’’^ 
 
 In the 'Katha Sarit Sagara’ (B. v. ch. 26) Saktideva 
 conceals himself in the back-feathers of an enormous 
 bird of the vulture species, and is conveyed to the 
 Golden City; in the Swedish tale of the Beautiful 
 Palace East o’ the Sun and North o’ the Earth (Thorpe’s 
 ‘Yule-Tide Stories’) the Phoenix carries the hero on 
 his back to the palace ; and in No. 5 of Dozon’s ‘ Contes 
 Albanais ’ an eagle performs a similar service to a youth 
 who had preserved her young from a serpent. But the 
 largest of all the birds of Asiatic and European Actions 
 must have been mere tom-tits in comparison with the 
 Halcyon of Lucian’s ‘Vera Historia,’ whose nest was 
 seven miles in circumference ! 
 
 ^ ‘ Buddhaghosha’s Parables ’ : a commentary on the ‘ Dammapada,’ 
 or Path of Virtue. Translated from the Burmese by Captain T. Eogers ; 
 to which is prefixed a translation of the ‘ Dammapada ’ by Professor 
 F. Max Muller, with an Introduction. 
 
168 
 
 / 
 
 PETRIFYING VICTIMS: LIFE -TOKENS; TESTS 
 OF CHASTITY. 
 
 IV/rAGIC performs a very important part in the folk- 
 tales of Europe as well as in the fictions of all 
 Asiatic countries, where belief in spells, talismans, en- 
 chantments, etc., has prevailed from the most remote 
 period of which we possess any record. The classical 
 fable of Medusa’s locks, which turned into stone who- 
 ever looked on them, is paralleled in the Eussian tale 
 of Ivan Devich : A Baba Yoga gives him one of her 
 hairs, and bids him tie three knots on it, and then 
 blow, which having done, both he and his horse be- 
 come petrified. — In a Greek popular story, a young 
 prince and his steed are partially turned into marble 
 by an enchantress, but are restored to their natural 
 condition through the instrumentality of a hermit.^ 
 A well-known instance of the power of enchanters to 
 petrify their victims occurs in the ‘ Arabian Nights,’ 
 where a youth is discovered reading the Kuran, the 
 
 ^ Story of “ La Tzitzinaena ” in ^ Recueil de Contes Populaires Grecs,’ 
 traduits sur les textes originaux par Emile Legrand. Paris : 1881. 
 
PETRIFYING VICTIMS: LIFE-TOKENS. 
 
 169 
 
 lower half of his body having been turned into marble 
 by the magical arts of his wicked wife. And in an- 
 other Arabian tale — that of the Envious Sisters — 
 the two princes, who successively go in quest of the 
 Singing Tree, etc., which their sister had set her heart 
 upon possessing, are both turned to stone (as had also 
 been the fate of all former adventurers), because they 
 looked back before securing the cage in which the 
 wonderful bird was confined. 
 
 The prototype of such incidents seems to be the 
 fate of Lot's wife, who, looking back to the burning 
 Cities of the Plain — which she was expressly forbid- 
 den to do — was instantly turned into a pillar of salt 
 (Gen. xix. 26). We are also reminded of the story of 
 Orpheus in the regions of Pluto, who had consented to 
 restore Eurydice to life on the condition that Orpheus 
 did not look behind him until he had reached the 
 upper world again ; and on his violating the condition, 
 Eurydice was lost to him for ever. 
 
 The welfare, or danger, of the heroes of many folk- 
 tales is indicated by a magical flower, or some other 
 object, which they leave behind with their friends, on 
 setting out upon perilous adventures. In the Eussian 
 tale of Ivan Popyalof (Ealston’s collection) the hero 
 hangs up his gloves, and tells his two brothers that, 
 should they perceive blood to drop from them, they 
 must hasten to help him; and in another tale the 
 hero leaves behind him a silver snuff-box which would 
 turn black if any misfortune happened to him. 
 
170 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 In the Arabian tale of the Envious Sisters, the elder 
 prince gives his sister a dagger, which she is to draw 
 out of its sheath every day while he is absent, and if 
 the blade continue clear, it is a token that he is alive 
 and well, but if it be stained with blood, he is dead ; 
 and the younger prince, when about to go in search of 
 his brother, gives her a string of a hundred pearls, 
 which if they would not run freely when she counted 
 them, would then indicate that he had suffered the 
 same fate as his brother^ A singularly close parallel 
 to this Arabian tale is found in the Icelandic story of 
 the Farmer’s Three Daughters : The elder brother 
 said to the younger that “if three drops of blood 
 should fall from his knife at table while he was away, 
 he must come at once to his rescue, for then it would 
 be sure that he had fared like the others.” This token 
 being perceived one day, the younger brother goes off 
 to help the elder, making the same arrangement with 
 his sister as the other had made with himself. 
 
 In the Kalmuk tales of ‘ Siddhi Kur,’ six youths set 
 out to travel, and arriving at the mouth of a great 
 river, they agree to separate, and meet again a cer- 
 tain time after at the same place. They each plant a 
 “ tree of life,” and should any one of their number be 
 missing at the rendezvous, and his life-tree be found 
 withered, they pledge themselves to search for him. 
 
 1 There is a variant of this tale in Jonathan Scott’s edition of the 
 ‘ Arabian Nights,’ vol. vi. p. 161, in which the elder brother gives the 
 younger a ring, which pressing hard upon his finger would betoken 
 that the elder brother was dead. 
 
LIFE-TOKENS. 
 
 171 
 
 wherever he might be. This idea is, however, much 
 older than the Tartar tales. In the Indian romance 
 of Chitrasekhara and Somasekhara a princess is held 
 captive by a fierce giant, and one of the two heroes 
 undertakes her liberation. Before setting out he gives 
 his brother a flower, the withering of which would be- 
 token that he was in danger, and required immediate 
 assistance.^ 
 
 In the popular tales of Madagascar, similar objects 
 figure frequently. Thus in one story, the hero plants 
 some aruns and plantain-trees, and says to his parents, 
 “ If these grow withered, then I am ill ; and if they 
 die, it will be a sign that I am dead.’’ And in another, 
 the hero tells his mother that a certain banana-tree is 
 to be a sign of his condition, according as it withered 
 or died.^ 
 
 To these ''life-tokens” may be added the ring 
 which, according to the Gaelic legend (beautifully 
 versified by Leyden under the title of " The Mermaid 
 Macphail of Colonsay received from his lady-love on 
 his going to the wars : 
 
 “ When on this ring of ruby red 
 
 Shall die,” said she, " the crimson hue, 
 
 Know that thy favourite fair is dead. 
 
 Or proves to thee and love untrue.” 
 
 The chief, in sailing home, was carried off by a mer- 
 
 ^ ‘ Descriptive Catalogue of the Oriental Manuscripts, &c., collected 
 by Colonel C. Mackenzie.’ By H. H. Wilson. Calcutta : 1828. Vol. i. 
 p. 51. 
 
 2 “ Malagasy Folk-Tales,” by Eev. Jas. Sibree, junior, in ‘ Folk-Lore 
 Journal ’ (1884), vol. ii. pp. 52, 130. 
 
172 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 maid while passing the Gulf of Corrivreckan, and they 
 lived together in a grotto under the sea for several 
 years. At length he grew tired of her society, and 
 ardently wished to return to the Maid of Colonsay : 
 
 But still the ring of ruby red 
 Retained its vivid crimson hue, 
 
 And each despairing accent fled, 
 
 To find his gentle love so true. 
 
 One day the mermaid requested him to give her the 
 ring, which he promised to do, if she would bear 
 him near to Colonsay, and when they approached the 
 shore he leaped on to the land, and was reunited to his 
 own true love.’’ 
 
 Closely allied to these magical life-tokens is the 
 nosegay which, in the Persian Tales of a Parrot Tiiti 
 Nama’), a woman presents to her husband on his 
 taking leave of her to enter the service of a nobleman, 
 and which would remain fresh so long as she continued 
 faithful to him. After some time the nobleman in- 
 quired of the soldier how he could thus procure a fresh 
 nosegay every day in the middle of winter, and was 
 informed that its continual bloom was a token of his 
 wife’s chastity. The noble sends his chief cook to 
 attempt the woman’s virtue, but she cleverly outwits 
 and entraps him; and as he did not return to his 
 master, the second cook was despatched on the same 
 errand, and met with a like reception. At length the 
 nobleman himself, with his attendants (among whom 
 was the soldier), visits the virtuous wife, who receives 
 
TESTS OF CHASTITY. 
 
 173 
 
 him courteously ; and his two cooks, dressed as female 
 slaves, to the infinite amusement of his excellency, 
 wait upon him at supper. The happy soldier then 
 returns his wife the nosegay, still fresh and blooming. 
 
 Tests of female chastity are the subjects of many 
 old European romances and ballads. A rose is the 
 test in the romance of Perce Porest ; in Amadis de 
 Gaul it is a garland that blooms on the head of her 
 that is faithful, and fades on the brow of the incon- 
 stant ; in ' Les Contes a rire ' it is also a flower ; in 
 Ariosto’s ' Orlando Purioso ’ the test, applied to both 
 male and female, is a cup of wine which is spilled 
 by the unfaithful lover — which also occurs in the 
 romances of Tristan, Perceval, La Morte d’Arthur, and 
 is well known in La Fontaine’s “ La Coupe Enchantee.” 
 In ' La Lai du Corn ’ it is a drinking-horn. Spenser 
 has derived the girdle of Plorimel from these sources, 
 or, more immediately, perhaps, from the fabliau, Le 
 Manteau mal taille,” or “Le Court Mantel,” an English 
 version of which is found in Percy’s ‘ Eeliques,’ under 
 the title of “ The Boy and the Mantle.” ^ 
 
 In the metrical tale of “ The Wright’s Chaste Wife ” 
 — of which an analysis will be found in a subsequent 
 paper, “ The Lady and her Suitors ” — edited by Dr 
 E. J. Furnivall for the Early English Text Society, a 
 rose-garland is the test. The 69th tale of the Contin- 
 ental ' Gesta Eomanorum ’ tells how the mother-in- 
 law of a carpenter gives him a shirt which had the 
 
 ^ ‘ Essays on Sanskrit Literature,’ by Dr H. H. Wilson, edited by 
 Dr Reinhold Rost, vol. i. p. 218 . 
 
174 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 singular property of remaining unsoiled, and could not 
 be rent, so long as his wife and himself continued 
 faithful to each other. So, too, in the North-German 
 tale of the King and Queen of Spain (Thorpe’s ' Yule- 
 Tide Stories ’), the queen gives her husband a shirt 
 which would betoken her fidelity so long as it re- 
 mained spotless.^ 
 
 Another infallible indication of female chastity was 
 the mirror presented by the king of the genii to Zeyn 
 el-Asnam, in the Arabian tale, which reflected the form 
 of the woman of whose spotless virtue he wished to be 
 assured : if the mirror remained clear, she was chaste ; 
 but if dimmed, she was '' no better than she should be,” 
 to employ the popular phrase, which being interpreted 
 signifieth that she was a great deal worse than she 
 should be. Bandello has a somewhat similar con- 
 trivance in one of his Italian novels (Part I., nov. 21), 
 where a Bohemian noble is possessed of a magic pic- 
 ture, which, by its colour, shows the fidelity or frailty 
 of his wife. And in the ' Pentamerone ’ of Basile a 
 fairy gives each of a king’s three daughters a ring, 
 which would break when its possessor quitted the 
 path of virtue. Three distaffs take the place of these 
 magic rings in the French fairy tale of L’Adroite 
 Princess,” which is an imitation of Basile’s story. 
 
 A flower is the test of marital fidelity in a story in 
 the ‘ Katha Sarit Sagara ’ : When Devasmita is obliged 
 
 ^ Thorpe says that this story agrees in substance with the ballad of 
 “ Graf von Rom,” in Uhland, and with the Flemish story of Ritter 
 Alexander aus Metz und seiner Frau Florentina.” 
 
TESTS OF CHASTITY. 
 
 175 
 
 to separate from her husband, the deity Siva gives 
 each a red lotus, saying, '' Take each of you one of 
 these lotuses in your hands, and if either of you shall 
 be unfaithful during your separation, the lotus in the 
 hand of the other shall fade, but not otherwise.’’ ^ — In 
 the 115th tale of the Continental ' Gesta Eomanorum ’ 
 we read of an elephant which no one dare approach 
 until it is lulled to sleep by two chaste virgins. The 
 original of this story is probably found in the ' Katha 
 Sarit Sagara,’ where it is related that a white elephant 
 having fallen down apparently dead, a holy man de- 
 clares that it can only be raised up by the presence of 
 a perfectly chaste woman. All the women of the royal 
 household, including the king’s favourite wife, are called 
 to put their virtue to this test, but each fails, and 
 ultimately only one woman in all the city was found 
 sufficiently chaste to restore the elephant to life ! ^ 
 
 ^ This, with analogous tokens of chastity, will be found more fully 
 compared in a subsequent paper on versions of “ The Lady and her 
 Suitors.” 
 
 2 Hey wood, in the Fourth Book of his ‘ History of Women ’ (ed. 
 1657, pp. 253, 254), relates out of Herodotus a very curious story, 
 which bears a close resemblance to the above : On the death of 
 Sesostris, King of Egypt, his son Pherones succeeded to the throne, 
 and not long afterwards lost his sight. An oracle prescribed a peculiar 
 remedy, in which a chaste matron was a sine qua non , — “ at which 
 newes being much rejoiced, and presuming both of certain and sudden 
 cure, he first sent for his wife and Queen,” but all was in vain ; he 
 sent next for all the great Ladies of the Court, one after one,” and 
 still his eyes fared no better ; “ but at length when he was almost in 
 despaire, he hapned upon one pure and chaste Lady, by whose vertue 
 his sight was restored, and he plainly cured.” After relating how the 
 king caused all those frail ladies to be put to a cruel death, “ reserv- 
 ing only that Lady of whose loialty the Oracle had given sufficient 
 testimony,” whom he made his queen. Hey wood has some uncompli- 
 
176 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 A tank of water was the means by which the her- 
 mits ascertained the chastity of Sita, the wife of Eama, 
 whose adventures are related in the great Indian epic, 
 ' Eamayana/ by Valmiki. When the hermits expressed 
 their suspicions, Sita said to them (according to the 
 version of the incident v given in the ' Katha- Sarit 
 Sagara,’ Book ix. chap. 51), Eeverend sirs, test my 
 purity by any means that you know of, and if I turn 
 out to be unchaste, let me be punished by having my 
 head cut off.’’ Hearing this, they experienced an 
 emotion of pity, and said to her, ‘‘ There is a famous 
 bathing-place in this forest, called Tithibhasaras, for a 
 certain chaste woman named Tithibhi, being falsely 
 accused by her husband, who suspected her of familiar- 
 ity with another man, in her helplessness invoked the 
 goddess Earth and the Lokapalas, and they produced 
 it for her justification. There let the wife of Eama 
 clear herself for our satisfaction.” When they said 
 that, Sita went with them to that lake. And the 
 chaste woman said, '' Mother Earth, if my mind was 
 never fixed, even in a dream, on any one besides my 
 husband, may I reach the other side of the lake ; ” 
 and after saying this, she entered the lake, and the 
 goddess Earth appeared, and, taking her in her lap, 
 carried her to the other side.^ 
 
 mentary remarks on the ladies of his own times — which need not be 
 reproduced, since they can have no application to those of our happy 
 times ! 
 
 ^ We find a curious parallel to this water-ordeal of Sita in the 
 Gospel of Pseudo -Matthew, chap, xii., in which both Joseph and 
 Mary go through ‘^the ordeal of jealousy ” as ordained in the Book 
 
TESTS OF CHASTITY. 
 
 177 
 
 In a Persian tale of an unfaithful wife, in Car- 
 donne’s ' Melanges de Litterature Orientale,’ her 
 father-in-law cites her to the Tank of Trial, at Agra. 
 The virtue of this water consisted in trying all kinds 
 of falsehood. A woman, suspected of infidelity, swore 
 she had been faithful, and was thrown into this 
 tank : if she swore falsely she instantly sank to the 
 bottom, but if truly she floated.^ This wife, conscious 
 of her guilt, devised a plan by which she should come 
 through the ordeal scatheless: she bade her gallant 
 
 of Numbers, chap. v. 11-31 : Joseph having done so in safety, the 
 priests said to Mary, “ This only we require of thee, that, since 
 Joseph is pure regarding thee, thou confess who it is that has be- 
 guiled thee. For it is better that thy confession should betray thee, 
 than that the wrath of God should set a mark on thy face, and expose 
 thee in the midst of the people.” Then Mary said, steadfastly and 
 without trembling, “ 0 Lord God, King over all, who knowest all 
 secrets, if there be any pollution in me, or any sin, or any evil desires, 
 or unchastity, expose me in the sight of all the people, and make me 
 an example of punishment to all.” Thus saying, she went up to the 
 altar of the Lord boldly, and drank the water of drinking, and walked 
 round the altar seven times, and no spot was found in her. — ‘ Apocry- 
 phal Gospels, Acts, and Eevelations,’ translated by Alexander Walker, 
 H.M.I.S. ; Edinburgh; 1870; p. 30. (Vol. xvi. of Clark’s ‘Ante- 
 Nicene Christian Library.’) 
 
 ^ Our ignorant ancestors had the same plan for testing persons 
 accused of witchcraft. — Hey wood, in the Ninth Book of his ‘ History 
 of Women ’ (ed. 1657, pp. 614, 615), says ; “ In Sardinia was a Water, 
 in which if the Perjurer washt his eies, he was instantly struck blind, 
 but the innocent departed thence purer in his fame, and more perfect 
 in his sight (Alex., lib. 5, cap. 10). Miraculous are those ponds in 
 Sicilia, called Palici [Aristotle calls this fountain Acedinus], near the 
 river Simethus, where Truths and Falsehoods are strangely dis- 
 tinguished : The Oaths of men and women being written in Tables, 
 and cast in them, the Truths swam above water, and the Lies sunk 
 down to the bottom. All such as forswore themselves, washing in 
 these waters, died not long after, but others returned thence, with 
 more validity and strength.” 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 M 
 
178 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 counterfeit madness, and to seize her the moment she 
 was to undergo the trial. The lover, solicitous to save 
 the honour and life of his mistress, made no scruple 
 to expose himself to the spectators, and found an op- 
 portunity to approach and embrace her, which he 
 effected by subjecting himself to a few blows, being 
 deemed insane by those who did not know him. The 
 suspected wife advanced to the edge of the tank, and, 
 raising her voice, cried, “ I swear that I never touched 
 any man but my husband and that madman who has 
 just insulted me. Let this water be my punishment 
 if I have sworn falsely.’’ Having thus spoken, she 
 threw herself into the tank. The water buoyed her 
 up in sight of all present, who unanimously declared 
 her innocent, and she returned triumphant to the 
 arms of her husband, who had always thought her 
 faithful.^ 
 
 This incident has been taken from the 15th tale of 
 the 'Suka Saptati,’ or Seventy Tales of a Parrot, a 
 Sanskrit work ; and it reappears in the mediaeval 
 '' life ” of Virgilius, with a metal serpent in place of 
 the water-tank, as follows (the spelling is modernised) : 
 
 “ Then made Virgilius at Pome a metal serpent with 
 his cunning, that whoever put his hand in the throat 
 of the serpent was to swear his cause right and true ; 
 and if his cause were false he should not pluck it out 
 
 ^ A Mongolian variant is found in the tales of Ardshi Bordshi (the 
 second part of ‘Sagas from the Far East’), under the title of “ How 
 Naren Gerel swore falsely and yet told the truth,” but the water- test 
 is omitted. 
 
TESTS OF CHASTITY. 
 
 179 
 
 again without harm doing. So it fortuned that there 
 was a knight of Lombardy that mistrusted his wife ; 
 but she excused herself right nobly and wisely. And 
 she consented to go with him to Eome to that serpent, 
 and there to take her oath that she was not guilty of 
 that that he put upon her. And thereto consented the 
 knight : and as they were both in the cart, and also 
 her man with her, she said to the man, that when he 
 came to Eome he should clothe him[self] with a foohs 
 coat, and disguise him[self] in such manner that they 
 should not know him, and so did he ; and when the 
 day was come that he should come to the serpent, 
 he was there present. And Virgilius, knowing the 
 falseness of the woman by his cunning and necro- 
 mancy, then said he to the woman, ' Withdraw your 
 oath, and swear not ; ’ but she would not do after him, 
 but put her hand into the serpent’s mouth ; and when 
 her hand was in she sware before her husband that she 
 had no more to do with him than with that fool that 
 stood by. And because she said truth she pulled her * 
 hand again out of the throat of the serpent, not hurt. 
 And Virgilius, having thereat great spite and anger 
 that the woman had so escaped, destroyed the serpent, 
 for thus escaped the lady away from that great danger. 
 And Virgilius said, that women be right wise to ima- 
 gine ungraciousness, but in goodness they be but inno- 
 cents” — i.e., simpletons, 
 
 A similar stratagem is adopted by Queen Ysonde 
 in the old metrical romance of ‘ Sir Tristrem.’ Queen 
 
180 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Ysonde, being (justly) accused of a liaison with Tris- 
 tram, offers to prove her innocence by undergoing the 
 fiery ordeal. A court is appointed to be held at 
 Westminster, where the Queen is to bear red-hot 
 iron in her hand, according to the ancient law of 
 ordeal. Tristram joins the retinue, disguised as a 
 peasant, in the most abject state of poverty. When 
 they are about to cross the Thames, the queen pitches 
 upon her disguised lover to bear her from the shore 
 to the ship. Tristram designedly lets his fair burden 
 fall upon the beach in such an indecent manner as 
 to scandalise the attendants, who are about to drown 
 him in the river, but are prevented by Ysonde, who 
 imputes the accident to his feebleness, through want 
 of food, and orders him a reward. When the queen 
 is brought to her oath, she swears that she is '‘a 
 guiltless woman,” and that no one had ever familiarity 
 with her person, excepting the king, and the peasant 
 who bore her to the vessel, whose indelicate awkward- 
 ness had been witnessed by the whole of her retinue. 
 The hot iron is then presented to Ysonde; but the 
 uxorious king of Cornwall, resting perfectly satisfied 
 with the equivocal oath of his consort, refuses to 
 permit her to hazard this dangerous confirmation of 
 her faith. Ysonde is proclaimed innocent, and is 
 completely reconciled to her husband.^ 
 
 ^ ‘ Sir Tristrem ; a Metrical Romance of the Thirteenth Century.’ 
 By Thomas of Erceldoune, called The Rhymer. Edited from the 
 Auchinleck MS., by (Sir) Walter Scott. 4th ed., 1819: Argument; 
 Fytte Second, st. 102-107. 
 
TESTS OF CHASTITY. 
 
 181 
 
 The depravity of women is frequently the subject of 
 satire in our old jest-books and other collections of 
 stories ; from which we must not suppose that they 
 were formerly more vicious than the women of Europe 
 at the present day. It is probable that, with the influx 
 of popular Actions from the East, it became the fashion 
 for European story-tellers to imitate the Asiatics in 
 their low estimate of woman’s virtue. Muslims have 
 the authority of traditional sayings unfavourable to 
 women, ascribed — falsely, let us trust — to Muhammed, 
 such as, I stood at the gate of paradise, and lo I 
 most of its inmates were poor ; and I stood at the gate 
 of hell, and lo ! most of its inmates were women ; ” 
 and that a man, if he would prosper in any under- 
 taking, should do the contrary to what his wife advises. 
 But sentiments unfavourable to the dignity of women 
 are not peculiar to the Muslims. The writings of the 
 Hindus contain remarks quite as spiteful and unjust, 
 although there are also passages of great beauty, in 
 which women are spoken of in terms of the highest 
 praise. Among the northern nations of Europe, how- 
 ever, women seem to have been always held in great 
 honour, and their influence contributed much to the 
 martial superiority as well as the moral excellence of 
 those peoples. 
 
182 
 
 BIRD-MAIDENS. 
 
 rpHE pretty superstition, which is the basis of so 
 many folk-tales, that at certain times fairies put 
 off their vesture and change their forms to those of 
 swans, doves, or other birds, is perhaps one of those 
 primitive myths, the common heritage of the Aryan 
 race ; ’’ although it is found current in almost all parts 
 of the world. The forms which these beautiful imag- 
 inary beings assume are, of course, different in different 
 countries. In the Earo Islands, says Thorpe, in his 
 " Northern Mythology,’ '' the superstition is current 
 that the seal casts off its skin every night, assumes 
 the human form, and dances and amuses itself like 
 a human being until it resumes its skin and again 
 becomes a seal. It once happened that a man passing 
 during one of these transformations, and seeing the 
 skin, took possession of it, when the seal, which was a 
 female, not finding her skin to creep into, was obliged 
 to continue in a human form ; and being a comely per- 
 son, the man made her his wife, had several children 
 by her, and they lived happily together, until, after a 
 
BIRD-MAIDENS. 
 
 183 
 
 lapse of several years, she chanced to find her hidden 
 skin, which she could not refrain from creeping into, 
 and so became a seal again.’’ A similar notion pre- 
 vailed among the people of Shetland regarding mer- 
 maids, who, it seems (according to Hibbert, quoted by 
 Thorpe), are not naturally '' flesh fishified ” at their 
 lower extremities, but resemble human beings, only 
 are far more beautiful, and dwell in the depths of the 
 ocean in halls of pearl and coral. When they wish 
 to visit the upper world, they put on the ham, or garb, 
 of some fish ; but woe to those who lose their ham, for 
 then are all hopes of return annihilated, and they 
 must stay where they are.^ ... It has happened 
 that earthly men have married mermaids, having taken 
 possession of their ham, and thus got them into their 
 power.” 2 It is the same story — alter et idem — every- 
 where. 
 
 In the Persian romance of King Bahram Ghur and 
 
 ^ Ham, sub., skin : A.S. Kama, Thus in Herrtage’s ‘ Gesta,’ pub- 
 lished by the Early English Text Society, p. 385 : “ She left hire 
 hame with oute the stone, and anone she stode up a fayre woman.” 
 
 2 In the ^ Nibelungenlied,’ Sir Hagan, seeing a bevy of mermaids 
 (“ wise women”) disporting in the waters of the Danube, seizes upon 
 their raiment, in order to compel them to disclose his fate and that 
 of his companions. — “ The raiment of these mermaids,” remarks 
 Lettsom, the translator, in a note, seems to have been the swan- 
 raiment worn by the Valkyries, or Choosers of the Slain, which enabled 
 its wearers to assume the shape of swans, or at least to fly away. 
 Hagan had therefore good reason to begin with laying hands on the 
 clothes of these water-nymphs. ... In the traditions respecting 
 Voeund, Wieland, or Wayland, the Smith, that hero captures a wife 
 by a similar stratagem.” 
 
184 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Husn Banii, the royal hero obtains his fairy bride in 
 like manner. Having been carried off by the Div-i 
 Safid (White Demon) to the mountains of Kaf, which 
 are the boundaries of the world/ he is left in a mag- 
 nificent palace, and after examining all its wonders 
 his senses are overcome by slumber. The narrative 
 thus proceeds : And while sleep possessed him, the 
 fluttering of flying doves sounded in his ears, and, 
 opening his eyes, he saw four doves sitting on a dome 
 of gold, each of them as large as a sheep, and in colour 
 like green emeralds ; and the king was astonished at 
 the sight of them. The doves flew off and lighted on 
 the edge of the lake, and out of every dove came a 
 perf, at whose beauty the reason was confused; and 
 they put off their dress on the banks of the lake. 
 Now there was one of these young beauties fair as a 
 child of the hiirf,^ and when the eyes of the king fell 
 upon her beauty he loved and yearned towards her 
 with a thousand hearts ; he fainted at the sight of her 
 grace and loveliness. After some time he came again 
 to himself, and saw that they had put down their 
 dress on the banks of the lake, and were swimming 
 and disporting themselves therein. Now the king had 
 heard from the White Dfv that if a portion of the 
 garment on the body of a perf be in the possession of 
 any one, she cannot escape from his power. Wherefore, 
 as softly as he could, he stole towards the dress of the 
 
 ^ See note, p. 81, for an account of the mountains of Kaf. 
 
 2 Htiri — commonly written in Europe houris — are the black-eyed 
 nymphs of Paradise, according to the Kuran. 
 
BIED-MAIDENS. 
 
 185 
 
 youngest fairy, and when he had possessed himself of 
 it he hid himself in a cluster of roses. The fairies 
 went on with their sport in the water till the youngest 
 said to the others, “ They say that the Div-i Safid has 
 brought hither a king of the race of men, and that for 
 grace and beauty his like was never seen amongst 
 mankind ; — let us assume our dove-form again, when 
 we go out of the water, and go and look on him from 
 a distance.” Then said another, '' It is even as thou 
 sayest ; there is not his like amongst the sons of men. 
 Now we are young, and God forbid that the king’s 
 heart should incline to one of us, and we be unable 
 to return his affection.” The youngest sister said, 
 “ Sister, thou hast spoken rightly, and I myself have 
 had a very troubled dream concerning him.” '' But,” 
 said the others again, '' when we are disguised in the 
 form of doves, he may think what he pleases.” So 
 they all three came out of the water, and sat in the 
 same tree where they had been before. But the 
 youngest missed her dress, and she drew a cold sigh, 
 and cried, '' Ah, sisters, did I not tell you I had a 
 troubled dream ? See, here is the meaning of my 
 dream ! ” Then they all took flight, and left her with 
 a troubled heart and weeping eyes. The king, seeing 
 this, came from the hiding-place he had chosen, and 
 made his salam to her, and she, beholding the beauty 
 of King Bahram, inclined towards him, and loved his 
 loveliness with a hundred thousand hearts. — The prince 
 and the peri are forthwith married, and afterwards 
 borne by Tfrits to the capital of Persia, where — to 
 
186 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 employ Shehrazad’s formula in the ' Arabian Nights ’ 
 — they continued together in joy and happiness, until 
 they were overtaken by the terminater of delights and 
 the separater of companions.” ^ 
 
 Hasan of Basra, in the ' Thousand and One Nights,’ 
 sees ten beautiful birds divest themselves of their 
 plumage and plunge into the water as nymphs. They 
 are the daughters of a powerful genie. Hasan con- 
 trives to steal the feathers of the youngest and pret- 
 tiest of them, and having married her, takes her to his 
 own country. Some years after, she discovers where 
 her husband had concealed her feather-dress, and in 
 his absence she puts it on, and escapes. Hasan is 
 utterly wretched when he learns on his return that 
 his fairy- wife had left him ; but as she had consider- 
 ately left her “ address ” with his mother, he at once 
 begins his perilous and tedious journey to Jinnistan, 
 the land of the Genii, to bring her back. On the way 
 he obtains shoes of swiftness and other useful magical 
 things, by means of which he reaches his journey’s 
 end, and is reunited to his wife — who, it seems, had 
 met with but a scurvy reception from her relations on 
 her returning to see them : her marriage with one of 
 human race being considered by them as “ disgracing 
 the family.” This is one of the best, as it is among 
 the longest, stories in the ‘Arabian Nights.’ 
 
 ^ An Indian variant of this charming fairy-tale, of which the above 
 is a mere extract, is found, under the title of The faithful Prince,” 
 in Steel and Temple’s ‘Wide-Awake Stories’ from the Panjdb and 
 Kashmir. 
 
BIRD-MAIDENS. 
 
 187 
 
 The incident of stealing the garments of bathing 
 fairies is often met with in Indian fictions. In the 
 Santhali folk-tale of Toria the Goatherd (translated 
 by the Eev. F. T. Cole, in the 'Indian Antiquary,’ 
 1875), the beauteous Daughters of the Sun were wont 
 to bathe in a river, on the banks of which Toria fed 
 his goats. Toria, having often beheld them sporting 
 in the water, fell in love with one of them, and one 
 day taking possession of her upper garment, she had 
 no alternative but to follow him to his house and be- 
 come his wife. — In the ' Katha Sarit Sagara,’ a hermit 
 says to a king’s minister, " Go quickly and carry off 
 the clothes of these [celestial] nymphs, and you will 
 learn tidings of your master.” He does so, and is suc- 
 cessful, as was Sir Hagan with the mermaids in the 
 ' Mbelungenlied.’ ^ In the romance of ' Helyas, the 
 Knight of the Swan,’ in place of an upper garment or 
 feather-dress, a golden chain is substituted : A young 
 knight, in eager pursuit of a white stag, chased it into 
 a deep and distant forest, where it escaped. In at- 
 tempting to retrace his way, he came to a fountain in 
 which a beautiful nymph was bathing ; she held in her 
 hand a chain of gold, in which lay her power : snatch- 
 ing away the chain, the knight seized the nymph, and 
 she was constrained to become his wife. 
 
 "A hunter in Southern Germany,” says Mr Baring- 
 Gould, " lost his wife, and was in deep affliction. He 
 went to a hermit and asked his advice ; the aged man 
 advised him to seek a lonely pool, and wait there till 
 
 ^ See ante, note, on p. 183. 
 
188 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 he saw three swans alight and despoil themselves of 
 their feathers ; then he was to steal one of the dresses, 
 and never return it, but take the maiden whose was 
 the vesture of plumes to be his wife. This the hunts- 
 man did, and he lived happily with the beautiful 
 damsel for fifteen years. But one day he forgot to 
 lock the cupboard in which he kept the feather-dress : 
 the wife discovered it, put it on, spread her wings, 
 and never returned.^ 
 
 Traces of the same notion are found in a rather con- 
 fused Albanian story (No. 12 of DozoiTs collection), in 
 which the hero gives his mother (a queen) the dress 
 of his bride, the Beauty of the Earth, with strict in- 
 junctions not to let her have it during his absence. 
 One day, however, she refused to dance unless she got 
 her dress, and the queen’s youngest daughter contrived 
 to steal it for her, and so soon as she had put it on, 
 she said to her maidens, “ Farewell ! Tell my husband, 
 when he returns, that he need not hope to find me 
 until he has worn out three pairs of iron shoes.” The 
 hero, in quest of his bride, comes upon twelve maidens 
 bathing in a fountain, among whom was she whom he 
 had sought so long, and seizing her dress he burned it. 
 Her dress, in which lay her power, being consumed, 
 
 ^ ‘ Curious Myths of the Middle Ages ’ : “ Swan-Maidens.” This is 
 the Arabian tale of Hasan of Basra, without his further adventures 
 in quest of his fairy-wife. — In one of Ralston’s ‘Russian Folk-Tales’ 
 the hero discovers on the sea-shore twelve birds, which turn into 
 beautiful maidens ; he steals the shift of the eldest, and marries her. 
 
BIRD-MAIDENS. 
 
 189 
 
 she could no longer escape, and therefore returned 
 with her husband.^ 
 
 A somewhat singular version is current in China: 
 Once in olden time a man named Ming-ling-tzu, a 
 farmer in poor circumstances, but without any family, 
 had a well of delicious water near his house. He went 
 one day to draw some, and when at a distance saw a 
 bright light in the well : on approaching to see what 
 it was, he beheld a woman diving and washing in the 
 water, who had her clothes on a pine-tree. Being 
 displeased at her shameless ways and at the well 
 being fouled, he secretly carried off her dress. The 
 garments were quite unlike Lew-chewan in their style, 
 and were of a ruddy and russet colour, which excited his 
 surprise, so that he cautiously came back to see what 
 change would come about. The woman, finishing her 
 bath, cried out in great anger, ''What thief has been here 
 in broad day ? Bring back my clothes quickly.’’ She 
 then perceived the farmer, and threw herself on the 
 ground before him. He began to scold her, and asked 
 her why she came and fouled his water ; to which she 
 replied that both the pine-tree and the well were made 
 by the Creator for the use of all. The farmer entered 
 into conversation with her, and pointed out that fate 
 evidently intended her to be his wife, as he absolutely 
 refused to give up her clothes, while without them 
 she could not get away. The result was that they 
 were married. She lived with him for ten years, and 
 
 ^ Dozen’s ‘ Contes Albanais ’ ; “La Belle de la Terre.” 
 
190 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 bore him a son and a daughter. At the end of that 
 time her fate was fulfilled : she ascended a tree during 
 the absence of her husband [the narrator seems to have 
 omitted to say that she had got possession again of her 
 celestial garments], and having bidden her children 
 farewell, glided off in a cloud and disappeared.^ 
 
 The notion of Bird-Maidens is also prevalent in 
 Japan. Thus in a lyrical drama, entitled “ The Eobe 
 of Feathers,’’ translated by Mr Basil Hall Chamber- 
 lain, in his ' Classical Poetry of the Japanese,’ a fisher- 
 man discovers a feather-dress hanging from a tree, on 
 Miho’s pine-clad shore,” and resolves to take it home 
 that it may be handed down as an heirloom. A fairy 
 comes and claims it, saying that without it she '' never 
 more can go soaring through the realms of air, never 
 more can she return to her celestial home.” The 
 fisherman consents to restore it on the condition that 
 she dance before him. She obtains the feather-dress, 
 promising to dance after she has put it on, which she 
 does, to the great delight of the fisherman; and the 
 chorus describes her departure: 
 
 But ah, the hour, the hour of parting rings ! 
 
 Caught by the breeze, the fairy’s magic wings 
 
 ^ Dennys’ ‘Folk-Lore in China.’ — Dr Dennys remarks that he has 
 found no trace of any similar story in China proper, though one may 
 exist, and “ the reappearance of the Keltic legend in a group of islands 
 in the China Sea [i.e., the Lew-chew Islands] is a noteworthy pheno- 
 menon.” The idea of the story may, however, have been derived 
 from India, where, as we have seen, it is generally current. 
 
BIED-MAIDENS. 
 
 191 
 
 Heavenward do bear ber from the pine-clad shore, 
 
 Past Ukishama’s widely-stretching moor, 
 
 Past Akisdaka’s heights, and where are spread 
 The eternal snows on Fusiyama’s head ; 
 
 Higher and higher to the azure skies, 
 
 Till wandering vapour hides her from our eyes. 
 
 Stealing the clothes of human damsels while they 
 are bathing is a very ancient stratagem, and was 
 doubtless often practised in our own country in more 
 primitive times. In the Indian work entitled Prem 
 Sagar,’ or Ocean of Love, by Lallu ji lal Kavi, we read 
 that Sri Krishmi — who is represented as an incarna- 
 tion of Vishnu — purloined the garments of a party of 
 pretty cowherdesses, who were bathing in the river 
 Argun, and carried them to the top of a kunduna-tr^Q. 
 When the damsels discovered their loss, they set up 
 loud lamentations, and espying Krishmi in his hiding- 
 place, earnestly begged him to restore their clothes, 
 wdiich he refused to do except upon the condition 
 that they should come out of the water one by one 
 and claim their garments. — A similar trick is recorded 
 of the celebrated pre- Islamite Arabian poet -prince 
 Imra-el-Kays, according to the note prefixed to Sir 
 William Jones’ translation of his famous 'Mu'allaka,’ 
 or prize -poem, so called because it had the honour 
 of being suspended in the temple at Mecca. 
 
192 
 
 SUBAQUEOUS FAIRY HALLS: FORBIDDEN ROOMS: 
 
 CUPID AND PSYCHE LEGENDS. 
 
 rpHE dwellings of fairies, according to the folk-lore 
 of most countries, are frequently splendid sub- 
 aqueous halls or palaces, adorned with the most bril- 
 liant gems, and with couches of pure gold. '' Man- 
 kind,” it has been remarked, have in all ages delighted 
 to find their own image in all the parts of space. It 
 is in consequence of this propensity that we find so 
 frequently human beings, or divinities like men in 
 form, represented as dwelling beneath the sea, or with- 
 in the waters of rivers or fountains. In Homer the 
 submarine cavern of Heptune at JEgSQ is described in 
 the 13th Iliad ; and that in which Thetis and Eury- 
 nome concealed Vulcan, in the 18th. The only ac- 
 counts given by the ancient poets of the descent of 
 mortals into these aqueous abodes are, that of Hylas, 
 of which the best account occurs in the 13th Idy Ilium of 
 Theocritus, and that of Aristseus in the 4th book 
 of the Georgies of Virgil.”^ 
 
 ^ Notes to Croker’s ‘ Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of 
 Ireland. ’ 
 
SUBAQUEOUS FAIRY HALLS. 
 
 193 
 
 It is a very common occurrence for the heroes of 
 popular tales to plunge boldly into a lake or fountain, 
 and lo ! they are in fairyland. In Berni’s ^ Orlando 
 Innamorato,’ the renowned and dauntless hero throws 
 himself into a lake, and ''finds himself in another 
 world ’’ (which has happened, in a different sense, to 
 others, before and since !), standing upon a dry meadow, 
 with the lake overhead, through which shone the beams 
 of our sun, the meadow being on all sides surrounded 
 by a crystal wall. After slaying his foe, Orlando dis- 
 covers a gate in the crystal wall, and, having passed 
 through the dark labyrinth, comes at last to where the 
 place is lighted by a large carbuncle, the lustre of 
 which was equal to that of day. This discovered to 
 his view a river little less than twenty yards broad, 
 and beyond this he saw a field as thickly covered with 
 precious stones (the " flowers ” of the fairy mead) as 
 the sky is full of stars. 
 
 According to Irish legendary lore, there is (or was) 
 in the south of Ireland a lake in which many young 
 men were drowned, and, strange to say, their bodies 
 were never recovered. On dark nights its waters 
 seemed like a flaming fire ; horrid forms were seen to 
 glide over it, and the air in its neighbourhood had 
 then a sulphureous smell. In old times there dwelt, 
 not far from this lake, a young farmer named Eoderick 
 Keating, who was about to be married to the prettiest 
 girl in the whole district, who rejoiced in the name of 
 Peggy Honan. It happened one day he had just re- 
 turned from Limerick, where he had been to buy the 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 N 
 
194 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 wedding-ring, and was standing on the border of the 
 lake, chatting with some young fellows of his own age, 
 who began to chaff ” him about Peggy Honan, saying 
 that his rival Delaney had won her affections and “ put 
 his eye out.” Keating, knowing better, took the wed- 
 ding-ring out of his pocket and showed it to them ; but 
 while he was toying with it, the ring slipped from his 
 fingers and fell into the lake ! Keating was greatly 
 concerned at this accident, not because of the pecuni- 
 ary loss, for that was a trifle, but because it was omi- 
 nous of ill-luck. He offered five pounds to any one 
 who would dive into the lake and fetch up the ring, 
 but all the youths declined the venture, when a half- 
 crazy fellow called Paddeen agreed to dive after it — 
 not being able to resist so great a bribe. So he pulls 
 off his coat and down he plunges head-foremost into 
 the lake. What depth he went nobody knows, but 
 he went down, down, down through the water, until 
 it parted from him and he came upon dry land ; and 
 the sky, the sunlight, and everything was there just as 
 it is here ; and he saw fine pleasure-grounds, with an 
 elegant avenue through them, and a grand house, with 
 many steps going up to the door. When he had re- 
 covered from his wonder at finding the land so dry 
 and comfortable under the water, he looked about him, 
 and what should he see but all the young men that 
 were drowned, working away in the pleasure-grounds 
 as if nothing had ever happened to them. Some of 
 them were mowing down the grass, and more were 
 setting out the gravel- walks, and doing all manner of 
 
SUBAQUEOUS FAIRY HALLS. 
 
 195 
 
 nice work as neat as if they had never been drowned. 
 Well, when he had neared the door of the house, out 
 walks a great fat woman, with teeth as big as horses’ (!), 
 and after mutual salutations, '' What have you come 
 here for ? ” asks this obese fairy. Quoth Paddeen, 
 as bold as you please, “For Eory Keating’s ring.” 
 “ Here it is,” says she, at the same time handing him 
 the ring. “ Will you please tell me,” then says Pad- 
 deen, ‘‘ am I to go back the same way as I came ? ” 
 “ Then,” says the fairy, '' you’re not going to marry 
 me ? ” Wait till I come back again,” says Paddeen, 
 for he knew she had lost her power over him by part- 
 ing with the ring ; I’ve got to get paid for bringing 
 back this ring: but I’ll be sure to come back and 
 marry you.” And here Paddeen began to edge away 
 from the house, and at length he came to the water, 
 and going up through it, he arrived safely at a rock on 
 the borders of the lake.^ 
 
 In the Persian romance which purports to recount 
 the adventures of the celebrated Arab chief Hatim Tai, 
 the self-denying hero, coming to a large city, finds the 
 people all gathered round the mouth of a well. In- 
 quiring the cause of their assemblage, he learns that 
 the son of their chief magistrate had gone mad, and 
 was in the habit of frequenting this well, and at length 
 had thrown himself into it : '' Three days have we 
 looked for him here, but we have found no trace of 
 him, and none of our people will venture into the 
 
 ^ Adapted from Croker’s ‘ Fairy Legends of the South of Ireland. ’ 
 
196 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 well.’’ Hatim readily undertakes to go down into the 
 well in quest of the lost youth, and the people agree to 
 remain there until he returns. No sooner has he leaped 
 down ten feet than he finds himself on firm ground, 
 and, looking about, sees no well, but an extensive plain. 
 Coming to a garden, the doors of which stand invit- 
 ingly open, he enters, and discovers in its midst a mag- 
 nificent palace (in fact, such as are only to be found 
 beneath enchanted wells), and within he sees fairies re- 
 clining upon couches which would beggar description. 
 Conspicuous amidst all this splendour are two thrones 
 of burnished gold, on one of which sat the fairy queen, 
 on the other a young man of noble aspect. After 
 Hatim had partaken of refreshments, the youth in- 
 formed him that he was one day seated at the mouth 
 of the well, when the heart-ravishing queen of the 
 fairies appeared, and, bewildered with her beauty, he 
 lost his reason (he probably had not much to lose), 
 and for days lingered near the well, in hopes of 
 seeing her fairy majesty once more, and being disap- 
 pointed he plunged in, and on opening his eyes found 
 himself in this paradise. Hatim prevails upon the 
 fairy queen to allow the youth to return with him to 
 his parents, and to promise to visit him personally; 
 and so he restores the infatuated youth to his sorrow- 
 ing relatives.! 
 
 In the 7th Tale of the ancient Indian romance, 
 
 ^ It is a popular belief in Persia that near the city of Kashan there 
 is a well of unfathomable depth, at the bottom of which are enchanted 
 groves and gardens. 
 
SUBAQUEOUS FAIKY HALLS. 
 
 197 
 
 ‘ Twenty-five Tales of a Demon ’ (Vetala Panchavin- 
 sati)/ the hero falls into the sea, and, looking about 
 him, finds he is in a grand city, with palaces of gold, 
 supported on pillars of jewels, adorned with gardens, 
 in which were tanks with steps composed entirely of 
 precious gems. — One of the earliest extant fairy tales 
 of subaqueous halls is, perhaps, that contained in the 
 6th Fable of the second chapter of the 'Hitopadesa’ 
 (Friendly Counsel). Professor Johnson has trans- 
 lated it as follows : '' One day as I was in the pleas- 
 ure-garden I heard from a voyaging merchant that 
 on the fourteenth day of the month, in the midst of 
 the sea which was near, beneath what had the appear- 
 ance of a kalpa-tree, there was to be seen seated on a 
 couch variegated with the lustre of strings of jewels, 
 a certain damsel, as it were the goddess Lakshmi, be- 
 decked with all kinds of ornaments, and playing on a 
 lute. I therefore took the voyaging merchant, and, 
 having embarked in a ship, went to the place specified. 
 On reaching the spot, I saw her exactly as she had 
 been described, and, allured by her exquisite beauty, 
 I leaped after her into the sea. In an instant I 
 reached a golden city, where, in a palace of gold, I 
 saw her reclining on a couch, and waited on by 
 youthful sylphs. When she perceived me at a dis- 
 tance she sent a female friend, who addressed me 
 
 ^ A Sanskrit work of very great antiquity, which is now incor- 
 porated with the ‘Kathd, Sarit S^gara,’ and of which there exist 
 versions in most of the vernacular languages of India — Bengali, Hindi, 
 Tamil, Mahratta, etc. 
 
198 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 courteously. On my inquiry, her friend said, ' That 
 is Eatna-Manjari, the daughter of Kandarpa Keli, 
 king of the Vidyaharas. She has made a vow to this 
 effect : '' Whosoever shall come and see the city of gold 
 with his own eyes, shall marry me.” ’ Accordingly I 
 married her by that form of marriage called Gand- 
 harva,^ after the conclusion of which I remained there 
 a long while delighted with her. One day she said to 
 me in private, ' My beloved husband, all these things 
 may be freely enjoyed ; but that picture of the fairy 
 Swarna-rekha must never be touched.’ Some time after- 
 wards, my curiosity being excited, I touched Swarna- 
 rekha with my hand. For doing so I was spurned by 
 her, although only a picture, with her foot beautiful 
 as the lotus, and found myself alighted in my own 
 country.” 
 
 This last is not only curious as being one of the old- 
 est specimens of fairy tales, but it is closely allied to 
 stories of forbidden rooms, the entrance into which 
 is immediately followed by severe punishment. The 
 
 Blue Chamber ” in our nursery tale of the terrible 
 Bluebeard (which came to us from the French — from 
 Perrault’s story of '' La Barbe Bleue ”) will readily occur 
 to the reader, first and foremost, among his reminis- 
 cences of forbidden rooms.^ And numerous other 
 
 ^ In which the parties exchange flowers. 
 
 2 ‘‘The treasure-house of Ixion, which none may enter without 
 being either destroyed, like Hesioneus, or betrayed by marks of gold 
 or blood, reappears,” says Cox, “ in a vast number of popular stories, 
 and is the foundation of the story of Bluebeard.” — ‘Mythology of 
 the Aryan Nations,’ vol. ii. p. 36. 
 
THE FOKBIDDEN EOOM. 
 
 199 
 
 instances might be cited from the fairy tales of 
 Europe, especially those written in France during the 
 seventeenth century, and afterwards translated into 
 our own and other European languages. In No. 41 of 
 Campbelhs 'Popular Tales of the West Highlands’ 
 (vol. i. pp. 265-275) we have not only a "Bluebeard’s 
 Chamber,” but also a curious example of "grateful 
 animals ” : Three daughters of a poor man enter a 
 forbidden room, which is full of dead gentlewomen, and 
 get themselves stained knee-deep with blood ; two of 
 the sisters refuse to give the cat a little milk, and 
 have their heads cut off ; but the third makes friends 
 with poor puss, who licks off the blood, and so she 
 escapes detection. 
 
 In Eastern fictions, however, the forbidden chamber 
 does not generally contain anything horrifying to the 
 person whose curiosity has been unable to resist the 
 injunction. A story in the romance of the ' King and 
 his Seven Vazirs’ has two forbidden rooms. A young 
 man, having wasted his patrimony, enters the employ- 
 ment of ten old men who live together in a fine 
 palace, until one after another dies, and the tenth, 
 feeling his end near, calls the youth to his couch, and, 
 bequeathing him the palace with all its wealth, warns 
 him on no account to open a certain door, since if he 
 did so he would repent it all his life. As usual, the 
 young man’s curiosity is not to be restrained. He 
 opens the door, and finds himself in a long, dark 
 passage, which leads him to the sea-shore, where a 
 huge eagle, darting down, seizes him, and flying up 
 
200 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 high into the air, finally descends with him upon a 
 desolate island. He is rescued by a passing vessel, 
 and reaches a country, the queen of which offers him 
 marriage, which he gladly accepts. The queen informs 
 him that all her treasures are now at his disposal ; but 
 he must “avoid yonder door; if thou dost open it, 
 thou wilt repent when it is too late.” The new king 
 lived happily with his lovely bride for some time, 
 until, “ tempted by the Evil One,” he opens the fatal 
 door, finds himself in a dark passage as before, and the 
 same eagle which had borne him away from the palace 
 of the old men sweeps down and carries him back to 
 the spot where he had been first taken up. The rest 
 of his life was spent in vain regrets. As the author 
 says, “he never smiled again.” 
 
 Perhaps among forbidden rooms in Eastern stories 
 that which figures in the Arabian tale of the Third 
 Eoyal Mendicant (or Calender, as in our common 
 translation) is most familiar to the general reader. 
 “We deliver to thee,” said the fairies, when they were 
 about to leave him for a season, “the keys of the 
 palace, which are a hundred in number, belonging to 
 a hundred closets. Open each of these, and amuse 
 thyself, and eat and drink and refresh thyself, except 
 the closet that hath a door of red gold ; for if thou 
 open this, the consequence will be a separation be- 
 tween us and thee.” After having opened all the 
 other doors, and admired the rare splendour within 
 each of the rooms, he had not patience to abstain from 
 opening the forbidden closet ; so he opened the door. 
 
THE FORBIDDEN ROOM. 
 
 201 
 
 and when he entered he found the place illuminated 
 by golden lamps, and by candles, which diffused the 
 odours of musk and ambergris. He saw there a black 
 horse, saddled and bridled, and wondering at the sight, 
 led him out and mounted him, and having struck him, 
 the horse uttered a sound like thunder, and expand- 
 ing a pair of wings, soared with me to an immense 
 height through the air, and then alighted upon the 
 roof of another palace, where he threw me from his 
 back, and by a violent blow with his tail upon my 
 face, struck out my eye and left me.” 
 
 These incidents were evidently imitated from the 
 story of Saktideva, in the 'Katha Sarit Sagara,’ in 
 which the hero’s fairy bride, having to separate from 
 him for a period, gives him strict charge never to 
 ascend the middle terrace of the palace. Impelled by 
 curiosity, however, he enters, sees much to marvel at, 
 and, going out to the lake, a horse with a jewelled 
 saddle : trying to mount it, he was struck with its heel, 
 and flung into the lake. Eising up, to his astonishment 
 he finds himself standing in the middle of a garden- 
 lake of his own city of Vardhamana. And in the 
 same work (story of Nagasvamin and the Witches), 
 a Yakshini, who had married the hero, commands him 
 not to visit the middle block of buildings of her 
 palace after she has gone away ; but he does so, and 
 there saw a horse, and going up to him, the horse 
 kicked him, and immediately he finds himself in a 
 temple of Siva. 
 
 Mr Ealston, in his ' Eussian Folk-Tales,’ has pointed 
 
202 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 out that in a modern Greek story (Hahn’s collection, 
 vol. ii. p. 197) the hero discovers in the 41st room of a 
 castle belonging to a Drakos, who had given him leave 
 to enter 40 of them, a magic horse, and before the door 
 of the room a pool of gold, in which he becomes gilded. 
 In another story (same collection), the 40th is the for- 
 bidden room, in which is a lake, and swan-maidens 
 bathing therein. In a third story, the 40 th room 
 contains a golden horse, and a golden dog, which 
 assist the bold liberator. And in a fourth story, he 
 finds a fair maiden, shining like the sun, whom the 
 demon-proprietor had hung up within by the hair. 
 
 In an Italian tale (from Pisa), cited by Mr H. C. 
 Coote in 'The Folk-Lore Eecord,’ vol. i. pp. 196, 197, a 
 woodman receives from a lady in the forest an in- 
 exhaustible purse, on his consenting to give her one of 
 his daughters for a companion. The eldest girl being 
 sent, the lady takes her away to a magnificent palace. 
 " See,” said she, " thou art mistress here ; I go away in 
 the morning, and return in the evening. These are the 
 keys of the whole palace ; I only forbid thee to enter 
 this room,” and she showed a closed door. The girl’s 
 curiosity impels her to enter the forbidden room, where 
 she sees the lady in a bath, and two damsels reading to 
 her. She shuts the door again directly, but when the 
 lady comes home she calls to her, saying, " Thou hast 
 disobeyed. Let me hear what thou hast seen.” The 
 girl, being quite confounded, then related what she had 
 seen, upon which the lady, without saying another 
 
THE FOKBIDDEN EOOM. 
 
 203 
 
 word, took her, cut off her head, fastened it to a beam 
 by the hair, and buried the body. The lady then gets 
 the woodman’s second daughter to come, on the pretext 
 of her being a companion to the other, and the same 
 happens to her. But the third, though she also entered 
 the fatal room, stoutly denied having seen anything. 
 And when the lady saw that the girl was so obstinate, 
 she made her put on again her peasant’s clothes, and 
 sent her into the forest to go about her business.^ 
 
 Forbidden rooms occur frequently in the Norse 
 tales ; for example : In the story of the Widow’s Son 
 (Dasent’s collection), the hero takes service with a 
 man, who, on going away for eight days, warns him 
 not to enter one of four rooms which he indicates to 
 him ; — if he did so, the man would take his life when 
 he came back. But the youth, after his master has 
 been gone a few days, goes into the first room, where 
 he sees nothing but a bramble-bush rod on a shelf. 
 When the man comes home, he soon discovers that 
 the room had been entered, and gave the youth only a 
 sound thrashing, as he pled hard for his life. Again 
 the man goes away, and cautions him as before ; but 
 the youth could not resist the curiosity he felt to ex- 
 amine the second room, in which he finds a big stone 
 and a pitcher of water on a shelf. On the return of 
 his master, he found that the second room had been 
 
 ^ This story seems imperfect ; at least it is a very peculiar member 
 of the ‘‘ Forbidden Room ” cycle of folk-tales. — In a Japanese story, 
 the hero receives a casket which would give him everything he wished 
 for, and even conferred on him immortal youth, so long as it remained 
 unopened. 
 
204 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 entered, and once more gave the hero a severe beating. 
 He goes off a third time, and the lad looks into the 
 third room, where he sees a trap-door in the floor, and 
 on lifting it there was a great copper cauldron that 
 bubbled and boiled away down below, but he could 
 see no fire under it. He dips his finger into the broth, 
 and when he drew it out, behold, it was gilded all 
 over. He scraped and scrubbed it, but the gilding 
 w^ould not go off, so he tied a rag round it : but when 
 his master came back, he saw the rag on his finger, 
 and tearing it off, at once saw where he had been. 
 This time he gave our hero such a thrashing that he 
 had to keep his bed three days, after which his master 
 rubbed him over with some ointment, and he was as 
 sound and fresh as ever. Once more the man goes 
 away, and the hero entered the fourth room, where he 
 saw a great black horse, tied up in a stall by himself, 
 with a manger full of red-hot coals at his head and a 
 truss of hay at his tail; so he changed them about, 
 and put the hay at the horse’s head. Then the horse 
 told him that for this kindness he would enable him 
 to escape ; for should his master (who was a troll) 
 come back and find him there, he would surely kill 
 him. So, acting on the advice of the horse, the hero 
 got into the cauldron in the third room, and came out 
 feeling very strong ; then taking from the other rooms 
 the stone, the pitcher of water, and the bramble-bush 
 rod, he got on the back of the horse and galloped off. 
 The troll returns, and instantly pursues him, but the 
 rod, stone, and water, thrown successively behind. 
 
CUPID AND PSYCHE LEGENDS. 
 
 205 
 
 raise a thicket, a mountain, and a great lake, and so 
 the hero makes good his escape.^ 
 
 Possibly some readers may be disposed to consider 
 such wild tales as distorted traditions of the Pall of 
 Man ; others may see in them only dreams induced 
 by hashish, or some other narcotic which forms the 
 Paradise of Pools ! 
 
 The beautiful story of Cupid and Psyche, which 
 forms an episode of the ' Golden Ass ’ of Apuleius, and 
 which has been so charmingly rendered into English 
 verse by Mrs Tighe, has a near affinity with stories of 
 forbidden rooms. Cupid consents to pass the nights 
 with Psyche, on the condition that she does not at- 
 tempt to see him ; and for some time the lovers are 
 happy in their reciprocal affection, until Psyche’s two 
 sisters, whom she acquaints of her happiness, at the 
 same time of her never having seen her lover, urge her 
 to break the condition, declaring their belief that her 
 lover is a serpent. Psyche one night took a lamp to 
 look at Cupid, and, in her agitation on beholding his 
 beauty, allowed a drop of oil to fall upon him, which 
 awoke him, and immediately Cupid and the palace dis- 
 appeared, and Psyche found herself in the wilderness, 
 where she was before her union with her lover. — Dun- 
 lop History of Piction,’ chap, iii.) has the jocular re- 
 
 ^ The reader will find this cycle of folk-tales ably treated in a paper 
 by Mr E. Sidney Hartland, entitled “The Forbidden Chamber,” in 
 ‘The Folk-Lore Journal/ vol. iii. pp. 193-242. 
 
206 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 mark that Psyche ought to have had sufficient reason 
 to know that her lover was not a serpent ; but it seems 
 to me that the suspicion, real or affected, of her sisters 
 points to the Eastern origin of the story. In many In- 
 dian stories we read of a serpent-deity who, assuming 
 / the human form, took a mortal maiden for his wife, and 
 disappeared each morning before daybreak ; and some- 
 times the maiden, learning the nature of her lover, de- 
 stroyed his serpent-skin while he slept, thus compelling 
 him to continue in his human shape. On the other 
 / hand, European as well as Asiatic folk-lore abounds 
 ^ in stories of maidens being wedded to serpents and 
 frogs, which the nuptial couch miraculously changed 
 into handsome princes — they having been doomed 
 to remain in such loathsome forms until espoused by 
 beautiful damsels. Our nursery tale of Beauty and 
 the Beast, and the German tale (in Grimm's collection) 
 of the Frog Prince, are familiar instances.^ 
 
 The first part of the Norse tale, '' East o' the Sun and 
 West o' the Moon," comprises exact parallels to these 
 incidents in the Cupid and Psyche legend: A girl is 
 married to a White Bear, who takes her to a grand 
 palace, and when she has retired to rest she finds a 
 man beside her ; — “ that was the White Bear, who 
 threw off his beast-shape at night ; but she never saw 
 him, for he always came after the light was put out, 
 
 ^ Another instance is found in Crane’s ‘Italian Popular Tales,’ 
 “Zelinda and the Monster”: by her consenting to marry him, he 
 becomes a very handsome youth. 
 
CUPID AND PSYCHE LEGENDS. 
 
 207 
 
 and before the day dawned he was up and off again/’ 
 After some time thus spent, the girl asks the White 
 Bear’s leave to visit her parents, which he grants, but 
 warns her not to have any private conversation with 
 her mother. But she could not resist her mother’s 
 importunity, and told her, one day, how a man slept 
 beside her every night, but she had never seen him, 
 for he always got up and went away before daylight. 
 Her mother advises her to take a small piece of candle 
 with her to bed, and light it while he was asleep ; but 
 she was to take care not to drop the tallow on him. 
 The girl returns on the back of the White Bear, and in 
 answer to his inquiries, stoutly denies having had any 
 private conference with her mother. At night, when 
 the man is fast asleep beside her, she lights the candle, 
 and lets the light shine upon him — and so she saw he 
 was the loveliest prince one ever set eyes on, and she 
 fell so deep in love with him on the spot, that she 
 thought she should die if she didn’t give him a kiss 
 there and then. And so she did ; but as she kissed 
 him, she dropped three drops of hot tallow on his 
 shirt, and he woke up.” He then tells her that she 
 has thus undone them both, for had she held out only 
 that one year he had been freed — his step-mother 
 having bewitched him, so that he was a White Bear 
 by day and a man by night. '' Next morning, when 
 she woke up, both prince and castle were gone ; and 
 
 ^ This incident reappears in the Danish story of ‘‘Prince Hatt 
 under the Hill,” in Thorpe’s ‘ Yule-Tide Stories ’ (Bohn’s ed., p. 23), 
 and in No. 281 of Pitre’s collection of Sicilian tales. 
 
208 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 there she lay on a little green patch in the midst 
 of the gloomy thick wood, and by her side lay the 
 same bundle of rags she had brought with her from 
 her father’s home.” ^ 
 
 This charming legend — the most delightful, perhaps, 
 of all fairy tales, not even excepting that of Cinderella 
 — is known all over the world, and is certainly very 
 ancient. The following is a Sicilian version preserved 
 to the present day by oral tradition : A man and his 
 youngest daughter, gathering wild herbs, came to a 
 garden, where the girl saw a fine radish and began to 
 pull it up, when suddenly a Turk appeared and said, 
 '' Why have you opened my master’s door ? You must 
 come in now, and he will decide on your punishment.” 
 They went down into the ground, more dead than alive, 
 and when they were seated they saw a green bird come 
 in and bathe in a pan of milk, then dry itself and 
 become a handsome youth. He said to the Turk, 
 “ What do these persons want ? ” Your worship, they 
 pulled up a radish and opened the door of the cave.” 
 
 How did we know,” said the father, that this was 
 your Excellency’s house ? My daughter saw a fine 
 radish, it pleased her, and she pulled it up.” Well, 
 if that’s the case,” said the master, “your daughter 
 shall stay here as my wife — take this sack of gold and 
 go: when you want to see your daughter, come and 
 make yourself at home.” The father took leave of his 
 
 ^ Dasent’s ‘Popular Tales from the Norse.* Second edition, 
 pp. 27, 30, 31. 
 
CUPID AND PSYCHE LEGENDS. 
 
 209 
 
 daughter and went away. When the master was alone ' 
 with her, he said, '' You see, Eosella, you are now 
 mistress here,” and gave her all the keys. She was 
 perfectly happy. One day, while the green bird was 
 away, her (two) sisters took it into their heads to visit 
 her, and asked her about her husband. Eosella said 
 she did not know, for he had made her promise not to 
 try to find out who he was. Her sisters, however, 
 persuaded her, and when the bird returned and became 
 a man, Eosella put on a downcast air. What is the 
 matter ? ” asked her husband. '' Nothing.” '' You had 
 better tell me.” She let him question her a while, 
 and at last said, Well, then, if you want to know 
 why I am out of sorts, it is because I wish to know 
 your name.” Her husband told her that it would be 
 the worse for her, but she insisted on knowing his 
 name. So he made her put the gold basin on a chair, 
 and began to bathe his feet. Eosella, do you really 
 want to know my name ? ” Yes.” And the water 
 came up to his waist, for he had become a bird and 
 had got into the basin. Then he asked her the same 
 question again and again, and again she answered yes, 
 and the water was up to his mouth. “ Eosella, do you 
 really want to know my name?” 'Wes! Yes! 
 Yes ! ” Then know that I am called The King of | 
 Love ! ” And saying this, he disappeared, and the 
 basin and the palace disappeared likewise, and Eosella 1 
 found herself alone out in an open plain, without a / 
 soul to help her.^ ^ 
 
 ^ Crane’s ‘ Italian Popular Tales,’ p. Iff. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 0 
 
210 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 A variant of this Sicilian form of the legend, current 
 in Chili — brought thither, in all likelihood, from Spain 
 — is to the following effect : One day an old man went 
 to a forest to cut firewood to sell in the city. Chop- 
 ping a very thick tree, he heard groaning inside ; and 
 suddenly a hideous black man appeared and threatened 
 him with death. The poor old man humbly asked 
 pardon, having offended unwittingly. Well, the black 
 man will spare his life, on condition that he give him 
 his beautiful daughter in marriage ; and in the mean- 
 time he may split open the tree, and take out of it as 
 much gold as he wished for the use of his wife and 
 family. The old man loads his donkey with gold; 
 and as he is about to return home, the black man 
 tells him that eight days hence he will come to his 
 house at night, and be married to his daughter in the 
 dark. This takes place at the time appointed, and 
 the damsel lived very happily, though her husband 
 left her all alone every morning. He came each 
 night, she met him in the dark, and just before day- 
 break he was off again. An old woman, a neighbour, 
 asked her one day what sort of a man her husband 
 was. She said she did not know, for she had never 
 seen him. Child/’ quoth the crone, “ how knowest 
 thou but thy husband may be a dog, or even Satan ? 
 It is needful thou shouldst see him. Take this match, 
 and fear nothing. When thy husband is asleep, rub 
 the match against the wall, and thou wilt see who he 
 is.” The damsel, when midnight came, struck the 
 match, and looking at her husband, saw that he was 
 
CUPID AND PSYCHE LEGENDS. 
 
 211 
 
 SO handsome that she became wonderstruck. She 
 forgot all about the match, and a spark fell upon 
 his face. So he woke up, and blowing out the match, 
 “Ungrateful wretch,” said he, “thou hast broken thy 
 word. Thou must know that I am a prince under a 
 spell, and little was lacking for me to be freed from 
 my enchantment ; but now thou must wear out shoes 
 of iron before thou shalt see Prince Jalma, thy husband, 
 again; and, my own pains will be still greater than 
 thine.” The damsel gets iron shoes made, and after 
 long and weary travel discovers her husband, when 
 the spell is broken, as in other versions.^ 
 
 We find another parallel to the story of Cupid and 
 Psyche in the old French romance of ' Partenopex de 7C 
 Blois ’ : The fairy Meliora grants the hero her love on 
 the condition that he does not attempt to discover her 
 person until two years are expired, when they should 
 be married. The mother of Partenopex, suspecting 
 that he is under the spell of a wicked enchantress, 
 
 ^ Chilian Popular Tales,” by Thomas H. Moore, in ‘ Folk-Lore 
 Journal,’ vol. hi. pp. 293-299. — The second part of the Danish story 
 of “Prince Wolf” is to the same purpose: After the heroine has 
 been married for some time to her mysterious husband, she visits 
 her parents, and her mother persuades her to take a little knife and 
 stick it into the edge of the bedstead : when he gets in, he will give 
 himself a slight scratch with the knife, and if he scream, he must be 
 a troll, but if he only moans, he is a real man. The girl does this, 
 and her husband moans, at which she is pleased ; but next day the 
 Wolf is lame in his right hind -leg. On her second visit home, her 
 mother gives her a tinder-box and taper. She lights the taper, and 
 beholding the loveliest prince, embraces him, at which he awakes, 
 then springs from the bed and limps out into the woods. 
 
212 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 gives him a magic lamp, by means of which he might 
 behold his mysterious lady-love. Eeturning to the 
 fairy palace, he enters the chamber of Meliora with 
 the lamp in his hand, and while he is gazing with 
 rapture on her beauteous form, she awakes and upbraids 
 him for his perfidy, the consequence of which, she 
 informs him, must be their immediate separation. 
 The hero, however, is ultimately reunited to his fairy 
 bride. 
 
 It seems to have been an article of very general 
 belief (says Eose) that when a superior being received 
 a mortal into favour, a test of obedience was required, 
 in the resistance of some species of temptation ; that 
 the temptation was not usually resisted, and that the 
 penalty of such disobedience was temporary, or, what 
 was more rare, eternal banishment. Thus in the old 
 French romance of ' Melusine ’ the fairy Pressine be- 
 comes enamoured of a king of Albany (probably Scot- 
 land), and espouses him, on the condition of his never 
 attempting to see her jpendant sa g4sine. She bears 
 him three daughters at a birth — the first named Melu- 
 sine, the second Melior, and the third Palatine. The 
 king, forgetful of his compact, enters her apartment 
 during the period of her accouchement, and the fairy, 
 after reproaching him with his breach of promise, quits 
 him for ever, and retires with her daughters into the 
 isle of Avalon.i 
 
 In the ' Lay of Sir Gruelan,’ the hero sees a beauti- 
 
 ^ Notes to W. Stewart Rose’s rendering of ‘ Partdnopex de Blois.’ 
 
CUPID AND PSYCHE LEGENDS. 
 
 213 
 
 ful fairy bathing, who declares her love for him, and 
 after passing some time in amatory converse — 
 
 Lo ! westward rolled, the sun, with slanting beam. 
 
 Streaked the green mead and stained the glassy stream, 
 
 Then the fond fairy bade the knight depart, 
 
 Nor fear lest absence change her constant heart ; 
 
 Still veiled by secret law from human eyes, 
 
 Clear to his sight alone her form should rise ; 
 
 Still loyal kind, while steadfast wisdom held 
 His conscious lips inviolably sealedd 
 
 And in the ' Lay of Lanval,’ the hero is thus addressed . 
 by his fairy bride : /^\ 
 
 “Whene’er thou call, thy joyful eyes shall see 
 This form, invisible to all but thee. 
 
 One thing I warn thee, let the blessing rest 
 An unrevealed treasure in thy breast : 
 
 If here thou fail, that hour my favours end, 
 
 Nor wilt thou ever more behold thy friend.” ^ 
 
 Asiatic fiction furnishes yet another instance in the 
 Persian story of King Euzvanshad and the fairy Prin- 
 cess Sheristani. The fairy (or rather the queen of the 
 Jinn, or Genii) marries the hero, on the condition that 
 should she do anything in his presence that displeased 
 him, he is not to blame or reproach her for it : if he 
 do so, the consequence must be their separation. The 
 princess, in due course, gives birth to a child, which 
 (for good and prudent reasons, as afterwards appears) 
 she casts into the fire, in the presence of her husband, 
 
 ^ Le Grand’s ‘Fabliaux,’ ed. 1781, tome i. p. 132; Way’s transla- 
 tion, ed. 1815, vol. ii. pp. 87, 88. 
 
 2 Le Grand, iv. pp. 95, 96 ; Way, ii. p. 57. 
 
214 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 who utters a cry of horror, upon which she vanishes, 
 but finally returns and is reunited to her husband. 
 
 Bryant, in his learned ^ Analysis of Ancient Mytho- 
 logy,' offers the following interpretation of the esoteric 
 signification of the Cupid and Psyche myth: ''The 
 most pleasing emblem among the Egyptians was ex- 
 hibited under the character of Psyche. This was, 
 originally, no other than the Aurelia, or Butterfly ; but 
 in after -years was represented as a lovely female 
 child, with the beautiful wings of that insect. The 
 Aurelia, after its first stage as an eruca, or worm, lies 
 for a season in a manner dead, and is enclosed in a 
 sort of coffin. In this state of darkness it remains all 
 the winter ; but at the return of spring it bursts its 
 bonds, and comes out with new life, and in the most 
 beautiful attire. The Egyptians thought this a very 
 proper picture of the soul of man, and of the immor- 
 tality to which it aspired. But they made it more 
 particularly an emblem of Osiris, who, having been 
 confined in an ark or coffin, and in a state of death, at 
 last quitted his prison and enjoyed a renewal of life. 
 This circumstance of the second birth is continually 
 described under the character of Psyche ; and as the 
 whole was owing to divine love, of which Eros was an 
 emblem, we find this person often introduced as a 
 concomitant of Psyche. They are generally described 
 as accidentally meeting and enjoying a pleasing inter- 
 course, which is attended with embraces and salutes, 
 and every mark of reconciliation and favour." 
 
215 
 
 FAIRY HINDS: MAGIC BARKS. 
 
 S the dryads and other mundane semi-deities were 
 
 amongst the ancients an intermediate race be- 
 tween men and gods, so the fays, or fairies, of Euro- 
 pean romance, and the peris and yakshas of Arabian, 
 Persian, and Indian fictions, were a kind of link be- 
 tween men and spirits. They were of two classes : 
 those who, like the nym'phm sorores, possessed such 
 amiable qualities as beauty of person, sweetness and 
 gentleness of disposition, fondness for solitudes — 
 sequestered spots, adorned with verdure, and flowers, 
 and fountains, glassy lakes, or silent-flowing streams — 
 and more especially for their penchant for mankind 
 and the tenderness of their attachments to the sons of 
 men ; of the other class were those who seduced and 
 held captive their lovers, such as the fairy Morgiana, 
 and the female ghiils and the rakshasis of Asiatic 
 romance, who assumed the forms of beautiful damsels 
 to lure their victims to destruction. 
 
 A common device of a fairy enamoured of a bold 
 and handsome knight was either to transform herself 
 
213 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 into a beautiful hind, or cause one to appear by her 
 magic power, which he pursued eagerly, until in some 
 shady grove ’’ it disappeared, when she discovered 
 herself to the astonished chevalier. Thus, in the ' Lay 
 of Sir Gruelan,’ the brave Breton knight is riding 
 along in melancholy mood one day, — 
 
 When lo, all unawares, a spotless hind, 
 
 More white than snow, the comeliest of her kind, 
 
 Sprang up beneath his feet, then fled before, 
 
 Yet seemed to pace with pain as wounded sore. 
 
 Her timorous semblance and her limping flight 
 Roused from his mournful muse the errant knight ; 
 
 Grief to a hunter’s ardour now gave place. 
 
 Fair was the game, and easy seemed the chase : 
 
 She still with faltering steps appeared to toil, 
 
 Just far enough before to feed the hopes of spoil, 
 
 Till many a fruitless turn and circuit past, 
 
 Into a flowery mead they came at last ; 
 
 And there she stopped ; and there awhile she stood 
 By the green margent of a crystal flood. 
 
 Within that flood did bathe a dame so bright, 
 
 So prime in youth, of skin so dainty white. 
 
 That my poor wit, too feeble all, doth fail 
 With her sweet image to adorn my tale. 
 
 Rich was her raiment, all her robe was gold, 
 
 A neighbouring tree the costly charge did hold ; 
 
 And, seated on the bank, two damsels sheen. 
 
 The ready handmaids of her will, were seen.^ 
 
 Here, surely, was a scene sufficient to dispel Sir 
 Gru41an’s “ mournful muse ! In the romance of ' Par- 
 tenopex de Blois,’ the hero is led to the palace of 
 the fairy Meliora by pursuing a magic boar which 
 
 1 Le Grand’s ‘Fabliaux,’ ed. 1781, tome i. pp. 130, 131 Way’s 
 translation, ed. 1815, vol. ii. pp. 84-86. 
 
FAIRY HINDS. 
 
 217 
 
 'she had caused to appear before him — even as Circe 
 (in Ovid) decoyed Picus into her power. In the 
 romance of 'Claris and Laris/ the two knights are 
 led to the palace of the fairy Morgiana by two beauti- 
 ful kids which skipped before them, seeming to invite 
 them to follow their track through a luxuriant grove. 
 
 In the Irish ' Lay of the Chase ’ (Laoidh na Sealga), 
 Fingal, with two of his dogs, is alone engaged in pur- 
 suit of a beautiful doe, which leads him from Alm- 
 haim, in the province of Leinster, to Slieve Guillin, 
 or the mountain of Guillin, part of which is in Ulster 
 and part in Armagh. Here he loses sight of the 
 quarry, but in its lieu discovers a beautiful damsel, 
 weeping, by the side of the lake, who proves to be 
 an enchantress.^ 
 
 We have in this last an exact parallel to a story 
 in the Persian romance 'Sindibad Hama,’ in which 
 a young prince pursues a wild ass, leaving his attend- 
 ants far behind, until it disappears as if the earth had 
 swallowed it up, when he beheld near him " a charm- 
 ing lady, beautiful as a peri, her stature straight as a 
 box-tree,” and so forth — but she proves to be a female 
 ghiil, who sought thus to get him into her power. 
 And in the Persian Tales of the Dervish Mukhlis, 
 the daughter of the king of the genii, Sheristani, de- 
 coys the hero in the shape of a hind, — and they are 
 married. (See ante, p. 213.) 
 
 According to Jewish legends, the arch-fiend some- 
 
 ^ See the original and a poetical English translation in Miss Brooke’s 
 ‘ Reliques of Irish Poetry.’ 
 
218 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 times adopts the same stratagem. The talmudists 
 gravely relate that King David went out one morning 
 to hunt, when Satan appeared before him in the form 
 of a deer. David drew his bow, but missed him, and 
 the deer ran off at the top of his speed. The king, 
 with true sportsman's instinct, pursued the deer un- 
 wittingly into the land of the Philistines — whither it 
 was Satan's design to lead him, in order that he should 
 fall into the hands of Ishbi, the brother of Goliath, 
 whose ignonjinious death Ishbi eagerly desired to 
 avenge. But David is rescued by Abishai, one of his 
 counsellors, who had learned of his mishap from a 
 dove, and mounting upon the king's own horse (which 
 he should not have ventured to do in any other cir- 
 cumstances), he was in a few minutes beside him, and 
 the furious Philistine was baulked of his revenge. 
 
 But why multiply instances ? The notion seems to 
 be as universal as it is certainly very ancient. 
 
 Not least among the wonders in the land of faery — 
 where all is wonderful — are the gorgeously decked 
 barks employed to convey the beloved knight to the 
 palace of enchantments : to the bowers of exquisite 
 bliss, where 
 
 The swift- winged hours unnoticed fly; 
 golden galleys which have need of no “ hands " to 
 trim the sails and steer, for they are moved by magic 
 power. It was one of these craft " that the brave Sir 
 Gugemer discovered, according to the Lai of Marie de 
 France : 
 
MAGIC BARKS. 
 
 219 
 
 A gallant bark, that with its silken sails, 
 
 Just bellying, caught the gently rising gales. 
 
 And from its ebon sides shot dazzling sheen 
 Of silvery rays, with mingled gold between. 
 
 Now, by a strange resistless impulse driven. 
 
 The knight assays the lot by Fortune given : 
 
 Lo, now he climbs, with fairy power to aid, 
 
 The bark’s steep side, on silken cordage stayed. 
 
 Gains the smooth deck, and wonders to behold 
 A couch of cypress spread with cloth of gold; 
 
 While from above, with many a taper bright. 
 
 Two golden globes sent forth their branching light. 
 
 And longer had he gazed, but sleep profound. 
 
 Wrought by the friendly fairy, wrapt him round ; 
 Stretched on the couch the hunter lies supine. 
 
 And the swift bark shoots lightly o’er the brine. ^ 
 
 And in ' Partenopex de Blois ’ : 
 
 ’Twas eve ; when from afar was heard the roar 
 Of hollow billows bursting on the shore ; 
 
 And from those wilds, forth issuing on the strand. 
 
 He viewed a bark fast anchored by the land. 
 
 Gay was the hull, and seemly to behold; 
 
 The flag was sendal, purfied o’er with gold. 
 
 Scarce might he climb the deck, with toil foredone ; 
 
 But in the shallop living wight was none. 
 
 While long and sore he mused, a gentle gale 
 Blew, rustling from the shore, and swelled the sail. 
 Self-steered, o’er sparkling waves the vessel flew. 
 
 The shore, receding, lessened from his view.^ 
 
 The fiction of these enchanted vessels (Eose remarks, 
 in the notes to his free rendering of ' Partenopex ’), to- 
 
 ^ Le Grand, tome iv. pp. 112, 113 ; Way’s translation, vol. ii. pp. 
 104, 105. 
 
 ^ W. Stewart Rose’s translation, canto i. p. 7 : Le Grand, tome v. 
 p. 256, Partenopex, Comte de Blois : Roman de Ferie.” 
 
220 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 gether with many other parts of romantic machinery, 
 is to be found both in Grecian and in Celtic fable. In 
 the 8th book of the Odyssey, Alcinous says to Ulysses 
 (according to Pope) : 
 
 So shalt thou instant reach the realm assigned 
 In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind ; 
 
 No helm secures their course, no pilot guides ; 
 
 Like men intelligent they plough the tides, 
 
 Conscious of every coast, and every bay. 
 
 That lies beneath the sun’s all-seeing ray. 
 
 Macpherson has furnished an extract from an old 
 Gaelic tale having a similar foundation; in which 
 Sgeir, an ancient Druid, is wafted to a distant island 
 in a self-moving boat, without any one else on board. 
 
 One should suppose that Coleridge had forgot such 
 wondrous vessels, when he compared his lost youth to 
 the (then) new-fangled steamboats : 
 
 Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore. 
 
 On winding lakes and rivers wide. 
 
 That ask no aid of sail or oar. 
 
 That fear no spite of wind or tide ! 
 
 Nought cared this body for wind or weather. 
 
 When Youth and I lived in’t together. 
 
 It would appear that no expense was spared in de- 
 corating royal galleys in mediaeval times, if we may 
 credit the following description of that which the 
 messengers of Henry II. meet at sea, in the romance 
 of ‘ Eichard Coeur de Lyon ’ : 
 
 Such ne sawe they never none ; 
 
 For it was so gay begone. 
 
MAGIC BAEKS. 
 
 221 
 
 Every iiayle with gold y-grave ; 
 
 Of pure gold was his sclave ; 
 
 Her mast was of yvery ; 
 
 Of samite her sayle wytly ; 
 
 Her ropes all of whyte silke, 
 
 As whyte as ever was ony mylke. 
 
 The noble shyp was, wythout, 
 
 With clothes of gold spred about ; 
 
 And her loft and her wyndlace 
 A1 of gold depay nted was. 
 
 With this gaily-decked galley we may, finally, com- 
 pare the faery bark which conveyed the youth to the 
 Land of Women (in the Arabian romance of the ' Seven 
 Vazirs,’ to which reference is made in the preceding 
 paper) : the youth having been carried through the air 
 by a monstrous eagle and left on a small island, he 
 remained a while motionless with terror ; but recover- 
 ing, began to wander about the island. '' Suddenly a 
 sail arose to his view on the waters, resembling a 
 fieeting cloud in the heavens. He gazed, and the sail 
 approached, till it reached the beach of the island, 
 when he beheld a boat formed of ivory, ebony, and 
 sandal-wood, the oars of which were made of aloes- 
 wood of Comorin, the sails were of white silk, and 
 it was navigated by beautiful maidens, shining like 
 moons. One of the ladies approached him with a 
 parcel wrapped in rich damask, in which was a royal 
 dress most superbly embroidered, and a crown of gold 
 set with diamonds and pearls ; and she assisted him to 
 dress. The ladies then conducted him to the boat, 
 which he found spread with elegant carpets and 
 
222 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 cushions of brocade. They hoisted the sails, and 
 rowed with their oars, till they reached the land,’’ 
 where he was wedded to the Queen of the Land of 
 Women, and might have been still living happily 
 there — who knows ? — but for his “ fatal curiosity.” 
 
223 
 
 THE THANKFUL BEASTS: SECRETS LEARNED 
 FROM BIRDS. 
 
 TT is remarked by Lord Bacon, that as the active 
 ^ world is inferior to the rational soul, so fiction 
 gives to mankind what history denies, and in some 
 measure satisfies the mind with shadows when it can- 
 not enjoy the substance. And as real history gives us 
 not the success of things according to the deserts of 
 vice and virtue, fiction corrects it, and presents us with 
 the fates and fortunes of persons rewarded and pun- 
 ished according to merit.” In this, indeed, consists 
 the chief charm of fiction, especially of those fairy 
 tales which are the never-failing delight of wondering 
 childhood, and not unfrequently the recreation of the 
 sage, in which the good are ultimately extricated from 
 their troubles and trials, and live happily ever after- 
 wards.” A prominent characteristic of such tales is 
 the befriending of animals, who subsequently evince 
 their gratitude by rendering their benefactor signal 
 services. 
 
 The story of Androcles and the Lion must be fami- 
 liar to every schoolboy,” as well as to every one who 
 
224 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 has been a schoolboy. But perhaps the oldest and 
 most widespread of stories of this kind is that of the 
 traveller who rescued a man and several animals from 
 a pit into which they had fallen ; the man afterwards 
 showing the basest ingratitude to his benefactor, while 
 the animals are the means of his attaining wealth and 
 honour. This story occurs in the 5th book of Gower’s 
 ‘ Confessio Amantis,’ and the substance of his version 
 is as follows : 
 
 Once on a time there was a great lord of Eome, 
 whose name was Adrian, and while eagerly engaged 
 in the chase he fell into a pit, where he lay helpless, 
 until near night, when a poor faggot - maker, named 
 Bardus, came past, leading his ass laden with sticks. 
 Hearing a voice from the pit, Bardus drew near, and 
 when the lord Adrian saw him, he cried, '' Help me, I 
 am the lord Adrian ; and I will give thee the half of 
 my wealth, by heaven and all the gods.” Then Bar- 
 dus untrussed his ass, and let down the rope where- 
 with his faggots were fastened together ; but it chanced 
 that an ape had also fallen into the pit, and when the 
 end of the cord reached the bottom he seized it, and 
 Bardus drew him up and he ran away. Seeing that it 
 was an ape and not a man, he was sore afraid, for he 
 thought it was witchcraft ; but when the lord Adrian 
 again cried for help, he once more let down the cord, 
 and when he drew it up, a great serpent unwound 
 itself and glided off. So Bardus, believing the voice 
 '' all phantom,” called out, '' What wight art thou, in 
 God’s name ? ” Quoth Adrian, “ I am the same of 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 225 
 
 whose goods thou shalt have half/’ Bardus now tried 
 a third time, and pulled up Adrian, who did not even 
 thank him, and was turning toward the city, when the 
 simple faggot-maker asked his covenant ” ; to which 
 Adrian replied, that if he upbraided him of aught, he 
 should be so revenged that it were better he was dead. 
 So Bardus went home with his ass, and told his wife 
 of this strange adventure, but he durst not say a 
 word to lord Adrian. Next day he went with his ass 
 to gather sticks, and coming near the pit he saw the 
 ape, who had gathered faggots for him all ready to 
 his hand ; and this went on from day to day, until, 
 '' upon a time,” he saw the serpent, who greeted him 
 with reverence, and gave him ''a stone more bright 
 than cristall out of his mouth.” Bardus took it up, 
 astonished “ that a beast should be so grateful, but a 
 man’s son not.” Having shown the stone to his wife, 
 they agree to sell it. The jeweller to whom he offered 
 it gave him gold in payment, and home he went with 
 joy. To his surprise, he finds the stone as well as the 
 gold in his purse ; shows them to his wife, saying he is 
 sure that the jeweller had the stone ; but he will go on 
 the morrow to another place and sell it, and if it won’t 
 dwell with any buyer, but creep into his purse, he 
 dare safely swear there is virtue in the stone. So he 
 goes to another place and sells it for more gold ; but 
 when he gets home there is the stone, along with the 
 gold, again in his purse, and this happened wherever 
 he went to sell it ; and the matter getting bruited in 
 Borne, the emperor Justinian sends for him. Bardus 
 VOL. I. 
 
 p 
 
226 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 tells his story, and of Adrian’s false promise. The 
 emperor will redress this matter ; he sends for Adrian, 
 who is compelled to give Bardus half of his goods : 
 
 And thus of thilke uiikinde blood 
 Stant the menioire unto this day, 
 
 Where that every wise man may 
 Ensamplar him and take in minde, 
 
 What shame it is to ben unkinde, 
 
 Ayein against] the which reson debateth 
 And every creature it hateth. 
 
 Under the year 1195, in the Chronicle of Matthew 
 Paris — a monk of the Abbey of St Albans, who died 
 in 1259 — the story is related as a parable which 
 Eichard Coeur de Lion was wont to repeat after his 
 return from the Crusades ; in this version the animals 
 are a lion and a serpent. In a later work, the ' Gesta 
 Eomanorum,’ we find the same story — it is the 119th 
 of Swan’s translation — in which the animals are a lion, 
 a monkey, and a serpent, and the man is a proud senes- 
 chal, while the man who rescues them is a faggot- 
 maker named Guido. The story is not so well told 
 in this version, I think, as in Gower. The seneschal 
 having promised a rich reward to Guido if he drew 
 him out of the pit, the wood-cutter sets off to the city 
 and gets a long cord, with which he draws up success- 
 ively the lion, the monkey, the serpent, and the senes- 
 chal, and — wonderful to say, or read — also the horse 
 of the seneschal. Next day Guido goes to the palace 
 for his promised reward, but receives, instead of money, 
 a severe flogging for his presumption, which nearly 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 227 
 
 deprives him of life. After a long and painful illness, 
 he resumes his labours in the forest, where he meets ten 
 asses laden with packs, and a lion driving them before 
 him — the same that he had rescued. The lion, by 
 gestures, signifies to Guido that they are meant for 
 his acceptance ; but being scrupulous about the matter, 
 Guido causes the ten asses wdth their packs to be cried 
 in church, and no one claiming them, he at length 
 feels justified in appropriating them to his own use, 
 and on opening the packs he found them all full of 
 money. One should suppose that after this Guido 
 had no cause to pursue his occupation ; but we find 
 him in the woods again, where, having forgot his axe, 
 the monkey furnishes him with an ample load of fag- 
 gots, and the serpent gives him a stone of three colours.^ 
 And here again the story becomes obscure : by means 
 of this stone he obtains much wealth — but how so, we 
 may guess from what follows, as well as from Gower’s 
 well-told tale. The emperor hears of this wonderful 
 stone, and, wishing to see it, sends for Guido. When 
 the emperor has inspected the jewel, he insists upon 
 buying it, and Guido informs him that if the price is 
 not paid, the stone will come back to him. So the 
 emperor gives him 300 florins for it. Guido then tells 
 the whole story, the seneschal is straightway crucified, 
 and Guido installed in his place. 
 
 ^ In one of the two texts of the ‘ Gesta ’ edited by Herrtage, for 
 the Early English Text Society, Guido learns from a “ stoner ” (jew- 
 eller) that it possesses three virtues ; bestowing evermore joy with- 
 out heaviness ; abundance without fail ; and light without darkness. 
 
228 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 If King Eichard of the Lion’s Heart was wont to 
 relate this parable,” he probably learned it in the East, 
 where it had been current some four centuries or more 
 before his time. It is found in the ' Panchatantra,’ 
 ' Kalila wa Dimna,’ ^ and other texts of the celebrated 
 collection of apologues and tales known generally 
 throughout Europe as the Fables of Bidpai, or Pilpay. 
 In the later Syriac text (tenth or eleventh century) 
 of ‘ Kalila wa Dimna ’ — of which a translation, with 
 a most valuable introductory account of the several 
 versions of this wonderful work, by the Hon. Keith 
 Falconer, has been recently published by the Cam- 
 bridge University Press — it runs somewhat thus : 
 
 A pit having been dug in which to catch wild 
 animals, it so chanced that a goldsmith fell into it, 
 and afterwards a tiger, an ape, and a snake in like 
 manner fell in. A traveller passing by saw them, 
 and saying to himself that it would be a meritorious 
 action to save these unfortunates, especially the man, 
 he threw down a rope, which the ape at once laid hold 
 of and was drawn up. Twice again did he let down 
 the rope and rescued the tiger and the snake. The 
 animals began to thank the traveller, and said to him, 
 '' Do not draw up the man out of this pit, for no- 
 thing in the world is worse than he.” But he drew 
 up the man also. Then the animals, having again 
 expressed their gratitude, went away, and the gold- 
 
 ^ A Greek translation of the Arabic ‘ Kalila wa Dimna ’ was made 
 by a Jew named Symeon the son of Seth, in a.d. 1080, through which 
 the story, perhaps, first became known in Europe. 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 229 
 
 smith, after informing the traveller where he lived, 
 and promising to requite his kindness, also departed. 
 After some time it happened that the traveller was again 
 passing the same place, when the ape met him, and 
 presented him with choice fruits. He next met the 
 tiger, who saluted him, saying, '‘Wait a little while, 
 and I will contrive to repay what I owe you.” So he 
 went to the king’s daughter, and killed her, and 
 taking her trinkets brought them to the traveller, and 
 said to him, " Take these trinkets, wherewith to supply 
 your needs.” But the traveller knew not whence he 
 had brought them ; so he proceeded to the goldsmith’s 
 house, and showing him the jewels, desired him to sell 
 them, saying he should have part of the money for 
 his trouble. But the ungrateful goldsmith, who at 
 once recognised the trinkets as belonging to the king’s 
 daughter, took them to the palace, and being admitted 
 to the king’s presence, he said to him, "The man 
 who killed your daughter and took these trinkets from 
 her is staying at my house.” The king commanded 
 the traveller to be seized, scourged through the city, 
 and afterwards crucified ; and the snake he had rescued 
 from the pit, seeing him hanging upon a cross, had 
 pity on him, and, in order to efiect his deliverance, 
 stung the king’s son. Then the king assembled all 
 his magicians and enchanters, but they could not cure 
 the prince. But it was revealed to the prince in a 
 dream that if the traveller who was crucified did not 
 come and put his hand on his wound he would not 
 recover, for the man had been unjustly condemned. 
 
230 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 So the king, on hearing this, ordered the traveller to 
 be taken from the cross and brought before him, when 
 he asked him to give an account of his circumstances, 
 and relate what had brought him to that city. The 
 traveller told his story from beginning to end, upon 
 which the king said to him, “Grant recovery to my 
 son from the bite of a snake, that the truth of all 
 that you have told me may be confirmed.” So the 
 traveller, inwardly prayed to Heaven, and immediately 
 the prince was cured. Then the king honoured the 
 traveller, and gave him much wealth, but the un- 
 grateful and false goldsmith he caused to be put to 
 death. 
 
 Such is the later Syriac version, which differs from 
 most of the other Eastern texts, in which the traveller 
 is cast into a deep dungeon, where he is visited by the 
 snake, who intimates to him that he intends to bite 
 the king’s son (or daughter), and then bring him a 
 talisman (or herb) which would cure the wound, in 
 order that when the king offers a great reward for his 
 son’s cure, the traveller should undertake and effect 
 it, and thus obtain his liberty and many rich presents.^ 
 
 A Pali variant, translated from the ‘ Easavahini 
 Jambudipa’ story, in 'The Orientalist’ for November 
 1884, may be cited, for purposes of comparison, in 
 the following abridged form: 
 
 ^ This is the form of the Siamese version given in Adolf Bastian’s 
 collection, and of a Tamil version, entitled The Soothsayer’s Son,” 
 in ‘ Folk-Lore of Southern India,’ by Pandit Nat^sa Sdstri, now in 
 course of publication at Bombay. 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 231 
 
 During a period of great drought a parrot descends 
 into a pit in a forest, and, becoming heavy by drink- 
 ing much water, is unable to rise. A snake and a 
 man successively fall also into the pit. A man from 
 Benares draws all three out with a long creeper resem- 
 bling a rope. The parrot informs his rescuer that he 
 lives in the banyan -tree at the southern gate of 
 Benares, and should he at any time be in distress, to 
 call Parrot ! ” The snake tells the traveller that he 
 lives in the ant-hill near the same banyan-tree. The 
 man who had been rescued says he lives at such a 
 house in Benares, and desires his rescuer to come to 
 him when in any difficulty. Some time after this the 
 traveller is in sore want, and goes to the parrot. The 
 king is bathing in a tank in a garden outside the city, 
 and the parrot snatches up the jewels he had taken 
 off, and conveys them to his benefactor, who deposits 
 them with the man whom he had drawn out of the 
 pit. The king causes proclamation to be made of the 
 lost jewels. The man reports to the royal officers 
 that the stolen jewels were in his house, and his un- 
 lucky benefactor is immediately seized and led off to 
 be impaled. On the way to the place of execution he 
 calls the snake to mind, upon which the snake changes 
 to human form, and appears before the officers, saying, 
 “ Do not kill this man at present.” Then in snake- 
 shape he bites the queen. Again assuming human 
 form, he says to the royal officers, “The man con- 
 demned to die knows antidotes for poison;” and to 
 the man, “ When summoned, free the queen from 
 
232 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 poison by dashing on her a quantity of water.’' The 
 queen is cured accordingly, and the man then tells the 
 king the whole affair. He is richly rewarded, and 
 the king builds him a grand palace between the ban- 
 yan-tree and the ant-hill, and he enjoyed the friend- 
 ship of the parrot and the snake the rest of his life. 
 
 Benfey pronounces the story Buddhist in origin, 
 since it is found in the ' Easavahini,’ as above, and in 
 another Buddhist work, " Karmasataka ’ ; but it does 
 not appear that he knew of its form in the ' Katha 
 Sarit Sagara ’ (Book x. ch. 65), where a devotee rescues 
 from a well a woman, a lion, a golden-crested bird, 
 and a snake. Some time after, the devotee, being 
 exhausted with hunger, is fed by the grateful lion 
 with deer’s flesh. And being again in sore want of 
 food, the golden-crested bird brought him a casket of 
 jewels. The devotee, while wandering about to sell 
 the jewels, came to the city where the woman he had 
 rescued was living, and having secretly deposited the 
 jewels in the house of an old woman, he went to 
 market, and on his way met with the woman he had 
 saved from the well, and they fell into conversation. 
 She told him that she was now one of the queen’s 
 attendants, and asked him about his own adventures. 
 So the confiding man acquainted her of the jewels he 
 had received from the golden-crested bird, and, taking 
 her to the house of the old woman, showed her them. 
 How it happened that the bird had stolen this casket 
 of jewels before the queen’s eyes, and the woman went 
 at once to the queen and told her that they were in 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 233 
 
 the possession of the devotee. Then the king, on 
 hearing this, caused the devotee to be cast into prison, 
 whither the grateful snake came and said to him that 
 he would coil about the king’s neck and not let him 
 go until told to do so by the devotee. The snake 
 having coiled round the king’s neck, and this being 
 told to the devotee, he offered to deliver him from the 
 snake. The devotee was then sent for, and saying to 
 the snake, Let the king go at once,” the snake let the 
 king go, and the king gave the devotee half his king- 
 dom, and thus he became prosperous in a moment.^ 
 
 The story, moreover, occurs in a much older 
 Buddhist w'ork than either of those above mentioned, 
 namely, the ‘ Jatakas,’ or Birth-Stories, where it is 
 told in this wise : 
 
 King Brahmadatta of Benares had a son, named 
 Prince Evil, of a cruel and vindictive nature. Bathing 
 in the Ganges, he caused his slaves to carry him into 
 the middle of the stream, where they kept him under 
 the water, intending to drown him, and then went to 
 
 ^ Under the title of “ Father Bruin in a Corner,” in Dasent’s 
 ‘Tales from the Fjeld,’ we have a corrupted Norse version of this 
 widespread story : A man digs a pit for wild beasts, and fastens 
 near it a live young dog as a bait ; in tlie course of the night a fox, 
 a wolf, and a bear fall into the pit, and early in the morning an old 
 woman coming past looks down and begins to jeer at the beasts thus 
 entrapped, when she suddenly herself tumbles into the pit ; by-and- 
 by the man comes, and after drawing up the old woman, kills the 
 three beasts from whose depredations he had suffered. It is signifi- 
 cant that even in this garbled version it is a woman that falls into the 
 pit, as in the ‘ Kath^ Sarit S^gara.’ 
 
234 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the land. They told the king that they thought he 
 had come to land before them. The prince, carried 
 away by the stream, got on the trunk of a tree; a 
 snake (formerly a rich landowner, who had buried in 
 the shore of the river forty hotis of money), a rat (for- 
 merly a person of great wealth, who had buried thirty 
 hotis), and a young parrot, successively also got on 
 the trunk, because of the floods. In the middle of the 
 night, the Bodisat^ (reborn in the family of an Udicca 
 Brahman), a recluse, hears the bitter wailing of the 
 prince, and, diving into the water, drags the log to 
 the shore. He takes the prince, the snake, the rat, 
 and the parrot to his hermitage, and restores them to 
 strength. After some days the river floods begin to 
 subside, and the hermit’s guests take their leave of 
 him. The snake offers him the forty hotis which he 
 had concealed in a former birth ; the rat offers the thirty 
 hotis he had likewise hidden ; and the parrot offers to 
 furnish him — assisted by his relatives — with several 
 cartloads of red rice. The king’s son says to him- 
 self, '' When he comes to see me. I’ll murder him,” but 
 to the Bodisat, '' When I become king, you must pay 
 me a visit, and I will take care of you.” Not long 
 after this the prince became king, and the Bodisat 
 thought to himself, '' 111 make trial of these creatures.” 
 So he called out Snake ! ” when the snake appeared 
 before him, and renewed his offer of the forty hotis of 
 gold; then to the rat, who again offered the thirty 
 
 ^ The potential Buddha — i.e., Gdtama in one of his 550 births 
 before attaining Buddhahood. 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 235 
 
 kotis ; and then to the parrot, who offered to supply 
 him with any quantity of red rice. '' Be it so,” said 
 he, '' if I should have need.” The Bodisat next goes 
 to Benares, takes up his abode in the royal gardens, 
 and sees the perfidious prince go past on a richly 
 caparisoned state elephant with a great retinue. The 
 king, recognising his benefactor, at once gives orders 
 to have him impaled. Accordingly the Bodisat is taken 
 outside the city, where, before being impaled, he is 
 severely bastinadoed, and at each blow he spoke this 
 gdthd : 
 
 Full truly this the wise declare, 
 
 Indeed they do not err, 
 
 Far better is a floating log 
 
 Than a false ungrateful man. 
 
 On being questioned by the king’s myrmidons whether 
 he had ever done a service to the king, he tells them 
 the whole story. Then the people, disgusted with 
 the king’s cruelty and ingratitude, put him to death, 
 and place the Bodisat on the throne. But the Bodi- 
 sat did not forget the three grateful animals whom he 
 had rescued from the river : the snake and the rat give 
 him the wealth which they had avariciously concealed 
 in former births, and he deposited it in the royal 
 treasury ; the parrot again offered to furnish rice, and 
 the Bodisat replied, “ When I have need of it, I will 
 accept of your kind offer.” Then he caused a golden 
 tube to be made for the snake’s abode, a crystal cave 
 for the rat, and a golden cage for the parrot. And so 
 these four individuals lived together in peace and 
 
236 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 harmony as long as life lasted, and at their death 
 passed away to be rewarded according to their deeds.^ 
 
 Innumerable instances of the gratitude of befriended 
 animals occur in the folk-tales of almost every country. 
 Thus, in Steel and Temple’s 'Wide-Awake Stories,’ 
 from the Panjab and Kashmir, the son of a soldier, 
 in quest of fortune, takes a thorn out of a tiger’s foot, 
 and is rewarded with a box which contains a manikin 
 (" Sir Bumble ”), who procures for him all he desires — 
 food, sweetmeats, and even a beauteous princess for 
 his bride. In the German tale of " The Fox’s Brush,” 
 the hero’s perilous adventures are brought to a suc- 
 cessful issue through the aid of a fox, at which his 
 two brothers (who preceded him) had shot, but he had 
 humanely refrained.^ And in the Norse story of " The 
 Giant who had no Heart in his Body,” a raven, a 
 salmon, and a wolf, having been treated kindly by the 
 young hero, enable him to encounter and slay the 
 giant. 
 
 In Mr Mitford’s ' Tales of Old Japan ’ little Peach- 
 ling sets out for the Ogres’ island, taking with him for 
 his food some millet dumplings. On the way he meets 
 first an ape, next a pheasant, and lastly a dog, to each 
 
 ^ See the “ Saccankira J^taka,” No. 73, translated by Rev. Dr R. 
 Morris, ‘Folk-Lore Journal’ (1885), vol. hi. pp. 348-353. 
 
 2 The Norse story of the “ Golden Bird,” in Dasent’s ‘ Tales from 
 the Fjeld,’ is almost identical with “ The Fox’s Brush ” in Grimm’s 
 collection ; and a Servian variant is found in No. 19 of Leger’s ‘Contes 
 Populaires Slaves.’ 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 237 
 
 of which, at their request, he gives one of his dump- 
 lings, and they follow him to Ogres’ island, where, by 
 their assistance, he enters the castle, puts the ogres to 
 flight, and obtains all their vast treasures. But the 
 hero of an Arabian tale, ''The Prince of Sind and 
 Fatima, daughter of Amir bin FTaoman,” received still 
 more extraordinary aid from the creatures he had be- 
 friended. The young prince enters a desert, which is 
 covered with an enormous flight of locusts, which had 
 fallen from want of food. Pitying their distress, he 
 orders meal to be strewed on the ground, and when 
 the locusts had refreshed themselves they flew away. 
 Some days afterwards he enters a thick forest, crowded 
 with herds of wild animals of every description ; but 
 they did not attempt to attack him, although they were 
 in a starving condition. He ordered some of his cattle 
 to he killed and distributed to them for food. Pre- 
 sently he meets with an old man, of whom he inquires 
 the way to the country of Amir bin Haoman, and learns 
 that this prince has resolved that no one shall marry 
 his daughter unless he can perform three tasks, which 
 are so difficult as to surpass the ingenuity and power 
 of man. When the prince demands the hand of Amir’s 
 daughter, he is led into a court where there is an 
 immense vessel filled with three kinds of grain mixed 
 together, which he is required to separate from each 
 other, and put into different heaps before sunrise. This 
 task is performed by the locusts which he had fed in 
 the desert. His next task is to drain off before sun- 
 rise a large reservoir of water, which is done by the 
 
238 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 wild beasts he had fed in the forest, wiio came at 
 night and drank up all the water. The third task is 
 to construct, with materials provided by the king, a 
 palace larger than that which he occupies. This is 
 done by his friends the genii of the iron mountains, 
 through which the prince had to pass on his way, whom 
 he had sumptuously entertained ; and the princess is 
 accordingly won. 
 
 These incidents are of very frequent occurrence 
 in the fairy tales of Europe. In the Danish story of 
 Svend’s Exploits, the king will not allow the hero to 
 marry his daughter until he has separated seven barrels 
 of wheat and seven barrels of rye which are lying in 
 one heap, and this task is done for him by the ants, 
 because he had once fed them. — In No. 12 of Dozon’s 
 Albanian Tales, the hero has a similar task done for 
 him, also by grateful ants. 
 
 In No. 25 of Leger’s collection of Slav Tales, the 
 younger of two brothers sets out to seek his fortune, 
 and comes upon a multitude of ants in a meadow, and 
 shares his bread with them ; farther on he sees a fish 
 gasping on a river’s bank, and throws it back into the 
 water. Coming to a city, he learns from an innkeeper 
 that the king’s daughter is dangerously ill, and that 
 whoever should restore her to health should marry her. 
 The hero cures her with some wonderful water which 
 his father had given him. But the princess refuses to 
 marry him before he accomplishes certain tasks, one 
 of which is to separate two sacks of poppy-seeds and 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 239 
 
 two sacks of ashes which were mixed together : this is 
 done by the thankful ants he had fed. Another task 
 is to procure for her the most precious pearl from 
 the bottom of the sea, which is given him by the fish 
 he threw back into the river. 
 
 And in the Sicilian story of the beautiful Cardia, the 
 hero has three tasks to perform in order to win his 
 lady-love. First, he has to eat a cellarful of beans, 
 which the ravens do for him ; next, he has to dispose 
 of a great number of corpses, which his friends the 
 wild beasts quickly accomplish in their own way; 
 lastly, he is enabled to stuff many mattresses with 
 feathers by the help of the subjects of the king of the 
 birds. 
 
 In the ' Katha Sarit Sagara ’ a rakshasa first orders 
 the hero to sow a great quantity of sesame-seed, which 
 the demon’s daughter performs for her lover by magic 
 power ; and when the demon finds it done, he bids him 
 take up all the seed again, as a further task before he 
 will give him his daughter, and she calls up an in- 
 numerable tribe of ants and makes them gather the 
 sesame-seed together. 
 
 In the Tamil romance entitled ' Madana Kamaraja 
 Kadai’ the hero of one of the stories, called Jagatala- 
 pratapa, wanders over mountains, and through forests 
 and thickets, in search of his lost celestial wives. He 
 spied a broad river before him, in which several ants 
 were struggling for their lives. The ant-king also was 
 among the sufferers, and he now called out to the hero 
 and said, Traveller, whoever you may be, if you re- 
 
240 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 lieve me from my danger, I shall relieve you also 
 when you are in difficulty, whenever you think of 
 me.’* These words excited the king’s pity, so he 
 entered the river and extricated all the ants. Then the 
 ant-king thanked him and took his leave. Going a 
 little farther, he found a frog dying in the midst of 
 burning sand. He was the king of the frogs. And he 
 called to the hero, begging him to take him into water, 
 and promising to help him in return should he ever be 
 in any strait. So he took the frog-king up and placed 
 him in the nearest pond. At length he discovers his 
 celestial wives bathing in a tank, and after he had 
 upbraided them for deserting him, they take him up 
 into Indra’s paradise, to plead his case before the deity. 
 Indra sets him certain tasks, which if he execute, his 
 wives should be restored to him. Having caused his 
 servants to reduce to the finest dust a tract of land, to 
 scatter in it ten halams of sesamum, and to plough it 
 well a hundred times, he ordered the hero to heap up 
 these ten halams of seed without omitting a single 
 grain, if he really deserved his daughters. The ant- 
 king sets all his subjects to this task, which they 
 accomplish perfectly. Then Indra throws his ring into 
 a well inhabited by serpents, and the frog-king recovers 
 it by compelling his subjects to jump into the well and 
 become food for the serpents. Finally, the king is re- 
 warded with the daughters of Indra in marriage.^ 
 
 1 ‘ The Dravidian Nights’ Entertainments : being a translation of 
 Madanak4mar4jankadai.’ By Pandit S. M. Nat^sa S4stri. Madras : 
 1886. Pp. 109, 115-117, 
 
THE THANKFUL BEASTS. 
 
 241 
 
 Sometimes the animals give the hero or heroine 
 assistance out of mere goodwill, as in the case of 
 Psyche, in the ' Golden Ass ' of Apuleius : Venus takes 
 wheat, barley, millet, poppy, vetches, lentils, and beans, 
 and, mixing them all together, says to the unhappy 
 bride of Cupid, Separate this promiscuous mass 
 of seeds, and having properly put each grain in its 
 place, and so sorted the whole, give me a proof of your 
 expedition by finishing the task before evening ; and 
 a colony of ants, pitying her distress, speedily execute 
 the otherwise impossible task. 
 
 M. Dozen, in a mythographical analysis of the story 
 of Psyche, appended to his collection of Albanian Tales, 
 pointing out that such tasks are common to both 
 Eastern and Western folk-tales, remarks that they 
 go back to the labours of Hercules or Bellerophon. 
 
 Cutting off a piece of one's own flesh and giving it 
 to an animal to save the life of its intended victim, is 
 always rewarded by the grateful creature thus rescued, 
 and sometimes also by the other. In one of the Persian 
 Tales of a Parrot, a younger son of a king saves a frog 
 from a snake, and then gives the latter, in lieu of the 
 prey of which he had been deprived, a piece of flesh 
 from his own arm. The snake then assumed the form 
 of a man, as did also the frog, and the prince by their 
 help obtains a place of honour at the court of a foreign 
 king, and marries his daughter. — The incident of a man 
 supplying a snake or other animal with flesh from his 
 own body is very common in Indian fiction, the snake, 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
242 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 etc., being inferior deities, as in the foregoing story. 
 In the ' Katha Sarit Sagara ’ we read of a prince, in 
 the course of his adventures, meeting with a rakshasa, 
 and ‘'not being able to obtain other flesh to give 
 the demon to eat, he cut off with his sword some of 
 his own flesh, and gave it to him.” For this singular 
 act of generosity the demon renders the prince great 
 services. In the Persian romance of ‘ Hatim Tai,’ the 
 magnanimous hero, while journeying through a vast 
 desert, discovers a wolf in pursuit of a milch-doe : he 
 calls to the wolf to desist, and the wolf at once stood 
 still — knowing that he who called was Hatim, since no 
 one else could be so compassionate to rational and 
 irrational creatures. The wolf, having thus allowed 
 the doe to escape, then demands of Hatim something 
 to eat. Hatim cuts a slice of flesh from his own thigh, 
 and gives it to the wolf, who, in reward of his kindness, 
 furnishes him with the information he requires to 
 successfully accomplish the object of his journey. 
 
 Beasts and birds are often thus communicative, 
 and occasionally their “secrets,” which are of very 
 great value, are overheard. Thus in the story of Vik- 
 ram Maharaja (Miss Frere’s ‘Old Deccan Days; or, 
 Indian Fairy Legends,’ a delightful little work), a 
 cobra had crept into the throat of the raja, and could 
 not be dislodged. His bride overhears the cobras 
 talking, one of which tells the others that if certain 
 nuts are pounded and mixed with cocoa-nut oil, set on 
 Are, and burned beneath the raja, the cobra would be 
 
SECRETS LEARNED FROM BIRDS. 
 
 243 
 
 instantly killed and drop to the ground. Moreover, if 
 the same were done at the mouth of his hole, he, too, 
 would be killed, and then they might find the treasure 
 he guards. Needless to add that the raja is cured and 
 the treasure found. In like manner, Panch-Phul Eani 
 (in the same work) learns from the conversation of 
 two jackals the means to adopt for resuscitating her 
 husband. And in the Danish tale of Svend’s Exploits 
 we read : “ Just as he was going to sleep, twelve 
 crows came flying and perched on the elder-trees over 
 Svend’s head. They began to converse together, and 
 one told another what had happened to him that day. 
 When they were about to fly away, one crow said, ^ I 
 am so hungry, where shall I get something to eat ? ’ 
 'We shall have food enough to-morrow, when father 
 has killed Svend,’ answered the crow’s brother. ' Dost 
 thou think that such a miserable fellow dares fight with 
 our father ? ’ said another. ‘ Yes, it is probable enough 
 that he will, but it will not profit him much, as our 
 father cannot be overcome but with the Man of the 
 Mount’s sword, and that hangs in the mound, within 
 seven locked doors, before each of which are two fierce 
 dogs that never sleep.’ Svend thus learned that he 
 should only be sacrificing his strength and life in 
 attempting a contest with the dragon, before he had 
 become master of the Man of the Mount’s sword;” 
 which he obtained by means of a finger-stall that 
 rendered him invisible, and with that resistless blade 
 slew the monstrous dragon. — In a modern Greek ver- 
 sion of the Cupid and Psyche legend, the King of 
 
244 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the Birds (an enchanted prince) is cut in the feet with 
 broken glass, by a device of the heroine’s sisters, when 
 he immediately disappears. The heroine sets off in 
 quest of him. In the course of her wanderings she 
 hears some snakes talking together about what had 
 befallen their king. They say that the remedy for his 
 hurts would be obtained by killing one of them and 
 taking out his fat; and some birds say the same of 
 themselves. She kills one of the snakes and one of 
 the birds, takes the fat out of them, and applying it 
 to the prince’s feet, he is cured. 
 
 In the conclusion of Pandit Natesa Sastrf’s ‘ Dravi- 
 dian Nights,’^ the prince and his clever companion, 
 the son of the king’s prime minister (who is the hero 
 of this entertaining Tamil romance), are returning to 
 their own country with their newly - acquired wives. 
 They encamp for the night under a banyan-tree, and 
 all are asleep excepting the ever-watchful minister’s 
 son, who hears a pair of owls conversing, and listens 
 attentively to what they are saying one to the other — 
 for he was well acquainted with the language of birds. 
 Said the male bird, '' My dear, the prince who is en- 
 camped under our tree is to die shortly by the falling 
 on him of a big branch which is about to break.” '‘And 
 if he should escape this calamity ? ” quoth the female. 
 
 “ He will die to-morrow, then,” replied the other, “ in 
 a river, in the bed of which he is to pitch his tent : the 
 river will be dry at the time, but when midnight comes 
 1 See note, p. 240. 
 
SECRETS LEARNED FROM BIRDS. 
 
 245 
 
 a heavy flood will rush down and carry him away.’’ 
 “ And should he escape this second calamity also ? ” 
 said the female. Then,” answered her mate, “ he will 
 surely die by the hands of his wife when he reaches 
 his own city.” ‘'And should he escape this third 
 calamity also ? ” “ My dear love,” said the male bird, 
 
 “ he cannot escape it. But if he does, he will reign as 
 a king of kings for hundreds of years ; ” adding, that 
 any one who happened to know this secret and revealed 
 it, his head should burst instantly into a thousand 
 pieces. The three calamities and the curse on the 
 person who should reveal them struck the minister’s 
 son with dismay. But he had no time to lose. So he 
 rose up, and, going into the prince’s tent, removed him, 
 still sleeping, with his couch to a spot far from the 
 tree. No sooner had this been done than the branch 
 of the tree broke with a crash that aroused all the 
 army as well as the prince, who exclaimed, “ Surely I 
 was sleeping in the very tent which that branch has 
 crushed ! How was I removed hither ? ” The mini- 
 ster’s son simply said in reply, “ I heard the noise of 
 the breaking branch, and removed you out of danger.” 
 
 At daybreak they resumed their journey, and near 
 nightfall they reached the bank of a river-bed. All 
 preferred to encamp on the embankment, excepting 
 the prince, who insisted on having his tent pitched 
 in the dry bed of the river. It was a flne moonlight 
 night, and when all but the minister’s son were fast 
 asleep in their tents on the river’s bank, he heard the 
 roaring of waters in the distance, so he at once re- 
 
246 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 moved the prince with his couch to a place of safety. 
 Down came the rushing flood with irresistible force. 
 The noise awoke the prince, who, again wondering at 
 his escape, thus addressed his friend, “ Surely I was 
 sleeping in the river-bed which is now deeply sunk in 
 water ! How is it that I am now here without injury?’' 
 The minister’s son merely said that he had been wake- 
 ful, and hearing the sound of the coming flood, had 
 removed him to the bank. The prince warmly ex- 
 pressed his gratitude to him for having repeatedly 
 saved his life and watched over his safety. 
 
 When they reached their own city, the minister’s 
 son obtained a lodging for the prince and himself, 
 with their wives, until other arrangements could be 
 made. The minister’s son, suspecting that the prince’s 
 wife did not love her husband, and purposed doing 
 away with him, concealed himself at nights under the 
 prince’s bed. How this lady had for her paramour 
 a cripple fellow, who lived at some distance from her 
 lodging, which was connected with his place of abode 
 by an underground passage, by which she visited the 
 cripple. Eeturning to her lodging one night, she 
 went direct to the prince’s chamber and cut her 
 sleeping husband’s throat. The minister’s son, spring- 
 ing from his hiding-place -—too late, however, to save 
 his master — laid hands on the murderess, who, with 
 wonderful presence of mind, at once called out that 
 he had killed her lord. But when the king came, and 
 the minister’s son asked him whether, if he had 
 wished to kill his friend, he did not have oppor- 
 
SECRETS LEARNED FROM BIRDS. 
 
 247 
 
 tunities enough while they travelled together, the 
 king was convinced of his innocence. The prince’s 
 body was laid on the funeral pyre, but the minister s 
 son secretly removed it, and put in its place a quan- 
 tity of bones, and taking the body home, deposited 
 it in a large box. Meanwhile his own wife, who was 
 as virtuous as the wife of the prince was vicious, 
 went to the temple of Kali to accomplish a vow she 
 had made of sacrificing her right hand to the goddess, 
 should her husband be acquitted of the charge of 
 murdering the prince, and the minister’s son, suspect- 
 ing her movements, had followed her into the temple 
 unseen. She was about to sever her right hand when 
 the goddess stopped her, and said she was pleased 
 with her devotion to her husband ; and instead of 
 requiring the sacrifice of her hand, she would confer 
 on her right arm the power of raising the dead to 
 life.^ When the lady had regained her lodging, she 
 found her husband (who had got home before her) 
 apparently asleep, and shaking him, asked what 
 presents he had brought her. He gave her his keys, 
 bidding her open the large box and take out what 
 she found there. The lady, having opened the box, 
 thrust her right hand inside, upon which, to her 
 
 ^ The power of resuscitating any dead creature is often ascribed to 
 heroes of Hindd and Persian fictions — sometimes, as in the present 
 case, conferred by a deity, but more frequently, perhaps, it is ac- 
 quired by magical skill. This notion, as well as that of the power of 
 making old persons young again, is one that seems to have captivated 
 untutored minds in all ages, and examples of its prevalence in both 
 European and Asiatic legends will be found in subsequent papers and 
 notes. 
 
248 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 amazement, the prince rose up, alive and well, but 
 marvelling how he got into such a place. The 
 prince's wife is put to death, before which, however, 
 the minister's son was induced by the king and his 
 courtiers to relate all the circumstances, which he 
 had no sooner done than his head burst into a thou- 
 sand pieces. All present exclaimed, '' The great man 
 of the world is gone for ever ! We were fools in 
 forcing him to relate the story ! " But the wife of 
 the minister's son joined the pieces together, and 
 laying her right hand on his head, behold ! like one 
 awaking from sleep, he rose up to life. 
 
249 
 
 THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 *T^E find a remarkable example of benefits derived 
 * * from overhearing the secret confabulations of 
 birds in a story in the Brothers Grimm’s ' Kinder und 
 Haus Marchen ” — a story, moreover, which, with varia- 
 tions, is known from Norway to India, and of which 
 the following is an abstract : 
 
 A poor soldier, who had been robbed and beaten by 
 his comrades so severely as to be deprived of sight, 
 and bound to the foot of a gallows, overhears the con- 
 versation of three crows perched high on a tree. The 
 first crow observed to his companions that the princess 
 was ill, and the king had vowed to marry her to who- 
 ever should perfectly cure her, which may be done by 
 burning a blue flower and giving her the ashes to 
 swallow. The second crow said that to-night such a 
 dew would fall, that even a blind man, if he washed 
 his eyes with it, would see. The third crow remarked 
 that there was a great dearth of water in the city ; 
 but if they would take away the large square stone 
 by the fountain in the market-place, and dig under- 
 
250 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 neath it, the finest water would spring up. The soldier 
 bathes his eyes in the dew, and his sight is at once 
 restored. He then plucks the blue flower, and having 
 burned it, takes the ashes, and proceeds to the king’s 
 court, and cures the princess. The king, however, 
 refuses to give him his daughter unless he can find 
 enough water for the use of the town. This he is 
 able to do, and then obtains the hand of the princess. 
 One day he meets the two wicked comrades who had 
 robbed him, told them of his good luck and how it 
 came about, forgave them the injuries they had done 
 him, and took them to his palace and gave them food 
 and clothes. But they resolved to go at night to the 
 gallows-foot, in hopes of also hearing of something to 
 their advantage. So off they went and sat under the 
 tree, where they heard the crows saying to each other, 
 ‘‘ Some one must have heard us ; for the princess is 
 well ; the flower is plucked and burned ; a blind man 
 has found his sight ; and they have found the spring 
 that gives water to the whole town.” So they looked 
 about them to see whether any one was eavesdropping, 
 and discovering the two men below, they flew at them 
 and pecked out their eyes. 
 
 A Horse version, entitled '' True and Untrue,” though 
 similar in outline, differs somewhat in the details. Two 
 brothers set out in quest of their fortunes. Untrue 
 eats of the provisions in his brother’s scrip until there 
 is none left, then refuses his brother any share of his 
 own store, flies into a rage, and plucks out his eyes. 
 
THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 251 
 
 Poor blind True climbs up a tree till the night is over, 
 for fear of the wild beasts. When the birds begin 
 to sing,” said he to himself, “ I shall know that it is 
 day, and I can then try to grope my way farther on.” 
 Presently he heard some one approach the foot of the 
 tree, and soon after some others ; and when they began 
 to greet each other. True found that it was Bruin the 
 bear, Greylegs the wolf. Slyboots the fox, and Longears 
 the hare. From their conversation he learns how the 
 king of England may be cured of his blindness, his 
 daughter cured of dumbness, how to find a spring of 
 water in the palace-yard, and how to make the royal 
 orchard fruitful. True first restores his own sight with 
 the dew of the lime-tree, round which the quartette of 
 sagacious animals had held their meeting, and then 
 performs the other things and marries the princess. 
 A beggar-lad comes into the hall during the wedding 
 feast — it is the rascal Untrue: his brother recognises 
 him, and after hospitably entertaining him, advises 
 him to go to the lime-tree, where he also may learn 
 some valuable secret. Untrue goes thither accord- 
 ingly; the bear, the wolf, the fox, and the hare 
 presently meet under the tree : he pricks up his ears 
 to listen, but has the mortification to hear the bear 
 say that since their conversation had evidently been 
 overheard at their last meeting, they had better hold 
 their tongues in future, and so they bade each other 
 good night — “ 0 most lame and impotent conclusion ! ” 
 
 In a Portuguese variant, a poor but very pious 
 
252 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 donkey-driver, after having given up to his irreligious 
 comrade his donkey and merchandise, in token of his 
 reliance upon Providence, takes shelter for the night 
 in a cave, where he overhears some demons talking of 
 a well which had been sunk in the neighbourhood, 
 but without obtaining water, and how the owner had 
 offered a purseful of silver money to any one who 
 should cause it to flow into the well, and of the means 
 by which this might be accomplished ; also of the ill- 
 ness of the king’s daughter, and how to effect her 
 cure: but instead of marrying the princess after he 
 has cured her, the donkey -driver contents himself 
 with half of the king’s revenue. His comrade is 
 afterwards killed by the demons. 
 
 The Kabail of Northern Africa relate the story 
 thus : Two men, one good, the other wicked, set out 
 together on a journey. The good man shares his own 
 food with his companion till it is all consumed, and 
 the wicked man refuses to give him any portion of 
 his store unless he part with one of his eyes, and 
 afterwards with the other; and he then abandons 
 the blinded man to his fate. The poor fellow is 
 directed by a bird to take a leaf from an adjacent 
 tree and apply it to his eyes, which he does, and his 
 sight is at once restored. Arriving at a great city, 
 he learns that the king of the country is blind, and 
 after he has cured the afflicted monarch, he is rewarded 
 with his daughter’s hand in marriage.^ 
 
 1 ‘Contes Populaires de la Kabylie du Djurdjura.* Recueillis et 
 
THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 253 
 
 The story is found in a somewhat garbled form in 
 the Kirghis tales contained in Eadloffs great col- 
 lection of South-Siberian Folk-Tales ('Proben der 
 Volks-litteratur der tlirkischen Stamme Slid-Siberiens/ 
 vol. iii. p. 344) : 
 
 A good man and a bad man were travelling together, 
 and the good man’s food came to an end. Appealing 
 to his companion for advice, he was recommended to 
 cut off his ears and eat them, which he did. When 
 they were consumed, he again appealed to his comrade, 
 who persuaded him to have his eyes taken out, on 
 which he lived for two days. Then his bad companion 
 deserted him, leaving him alone in a dense forest. As 
 he sat there, he heard a tiger, a fox, and a wolf holding 
 converse together, and learnt that two neighbouring 
 trees had the power of giving ears to the earless and 
 eyes to the blind ; that the bones of a certain rich 
 man’s black dog could bring back the dead to life ; and 
 that a hill not far off contained a mass of gold as large 
 as a horse’s head. Before long he had obtained from 
 the trees new eyes and ears, and from the hill the 
 mass of gold, with which he bought the rich man’s 
 dog. By means of its bones he restored to life a khan, 
 who gratefully bestowed upon his reviver his daughter 
 
 traduits par J. Kiviere. Paris: 1882. — Qab^’il, or Kabd’il — incor- 
 rectly written in Europe Kahyle and Kabylie — is an Arabic word 
 meaning tribes, the plural of Qabila, a tribe. In all Muslim countries 
 there are, quite distinct from townsmen, wandering tribes that move 
 from pasture to pasture according to the season of the year, and those 
 in Algiers are called Kab^’il, or tribesmen. — The stories collected by 
 M. Riviere only exist orally among the Kaba’il, and thus possess a 
 special value for the student of comparative folk-lore. 
 
254 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 and half of his cattle. So he became rich and pros- 
 perous. One day his former companion came to see 
 him, found out the secrets of his recovery and pros- 
 perity, and said, '' 0 my good one, take me to the dark 
 dense forest and leave me there ! Perchance to me, 
 as well as to thee, may it be given to become a man of 
 mark. Thy two eyes did I take from thee, both thine 
 ears did I take,^ and I left thee in the forest : there 
 didst thou become a right fortunate man. Now, then, 
 do thou also put out my two eyes, cut off both my ears, 
 and take me to the forest where I left thee, and leave 
 me there.’’ So the good man did as he was requested, 
 and the earless, eyeless, bad man remained in the 
 forest alone. But when '' the fox, the wolf, and the 
 tiger, all three together, examined the interior of the 
 forest, there, at a certain spot, they found the bad man, 
 and they all three ate him up. 'From good comes 
 good, and from evil comes evil,’ said they all three, 
 and ate him up.”^ 
 
 ^ From this it is evident that the good man’s eating his ears and 
 eyes (in the first part of the story) is a corruption of the usual inci- 
 dent — namely, his parting with his eyes to the bad man in exchange 
 for some food. 
 
 2 “ Notes on Folk-Tales,” by Mr W. R. S. Ralston, in ‘ The Folk- 
 Lore Record,’ vol. i. pp. 90, 91. Mr Ralston remarks that this story 
 is very popular in Russia, Afanasief giving in his collection no fewer 
 than seven different versions, in the introduction to one of which (vol. 
 i. p. 10) considerable modern additions have been made. Two fellow- 
 travellers dispute as to whether it is better to live honestly or dis- 
 honestly, and refer the question to a peasant, a merchant, and a 
 lawyer whom they successively meet on their way, and who express 
 themselves in favour of dishonesty, but the traveller who upholds 
 honesty is still of the same opinion. After a time, in order to get a 
 morsel of food, he is obliged to allow his antagonist to blind him. In 
 
THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 255 
 
 In the Arabian tale of ''Abou Neeut and Abou 
 Neeuteen, or the Well-intentioned and the Double- 
 minded/’^ one of the additional tales translated by 
 Jonathan Scott, in volume vi. of his edition of the 
 ‘Arabian Nights’ Entertainments/ we have a different 
 version from any of those above cited: The two 
 friends travel together, and, coming to a well, Abou 
 Neeuteen lets the other down for water, and, leav- 
 ing him there, decamps with all his property. In the 
 well are two Afreets^ conversing together. One of 
 them says that he has possessed the beautiful princess 
 of Mosul, and no one can drive him away, save by 
 sprinkling an infusion of wormwood under her feet on 
 a Friday during divine service in the great mosque. 
 The other says that he has been equally fortunate, 
 being in possession of such a hidden treasure of gold 
 and jewels under a mound at Mosul as cannot be com- 
 puted, the talisman of which cannot be opened to any 
 one unless by killing on the mound a white cock 
 and pouring over it the blood. Having said this, they 
 took their flight from the well. At daybreak Abou 
 Neeut was delivered from the well by the arrival of a 
 caravan, some of the followers of which went down to 
 
 his distress he praj^s to God : “ 0 Lord, desert me not, thy sinful ser- 
 vant ! ” Then a voice is heard from heaven telling him what to do in 
 order to recover his eyesight. After this the story proceeds in the 
 usual way. — Ibid., p. 91. 
 
 ^ Dr J. W. Hedhouse suggests for Abou Neeut and Abou Neeuteen : 
 Abu Niyyet, father (or possessor) of a single resolution ; Abu Niy- 
 yeteyn, father (or possessor) of two resolutions. 
 
 2 Afreets (properly, ’Ifrits) are powerful evil genii {jinn), generally 
 inhabiting wells and ruinous buildings. 
 
256 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 fill the water-skins. Acting upon the information he 
 had gained from the conversation of the Afreets, he 
 dispossesses the princess, and obtaining the great trea- 
 sure of gold and jewels from the mound where it was 
 concealed, he is made prime minister, and marries the 
 princess. After some time Abou Neeuteen comes to 
 the city in woful plight ; his old friend takes him to 
 the palace, clothes and feeds him, and informs him of 
 his good fortune. The envious fellow determines to 
 try his luck also in the well ; but no sooner is he down 
 in it than the two Afreets, saying to each other that 
 some person has fathomed their secrets, proceed to fill 
 up the well which had been the cause of all their 
 disasters, and hurling huge stones upon the head of 
 Abou Neeuteen, crushed him to death. 
 
 This Arabian version is evidently of Indian origin, 
 since it corresponds in all details with a Bengali story, 
 which Mr C. H. Damant has translated in the ‘ Indian 
 Antiquary,’ 1875, under the title of The Two Blnits.” ^ 
 A prince and a kotwaBs son travel in company, and 
 the latter lets his friend down into a well and aban- 
 dons him. The prince hears two bhiits conversing, one 
 about having possessed the king’s daughter, and how 
 she may be cured ; the other, of his hoarded gold, and 
 how it may be taken from him. The rest of the story 
 is precisely the same as that of Abou Neeut and his 
 treacherous comrade. 
 
 ^ Shuts are malignant spirits, haunting cemeteries, lurking in trees 
 and wells, animating carcases, and deluding or devouring human beings. 
 
THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 257 
 
 The Persian poet Hatifi {db. a.d. 1520) relates the 
 story, with additional incidents, in his romance of 
 ‘ The Seven Faces ’ {Heft Menzer), which recounts the 
 exploits of King Bahram Ghiir, and how he built his 
 Seven Pavilions, and placed in each a beauty of the 
 world” : 
 
 Two youths left their native country to seek their 
 fortunes ; one was called Khayr (Good), the other 
 Shar (Evil). After they had travelled together for 
 some time, the provisions of Khayr were exhausted, 
 and his companion, who had carefully hoarded his 
 store of food and water, refused to give him any — not 
 even a draught of water. Khayr offered him two 
 precious gems which he had in his purse, but the 
 wicked fellow would consent to give him to drink only 
 on condition that he would part with his eyesight. 
 Tormented at length by excessive thirst, Khayr bar- 
 tered his eyes for a draught of water ; but no sooner 
 had Shar blinded him than he cruelly despoiled him of 
 his clothes and other property, and left him, without 
 so much as a drop of water, to mourn his misfortunes. 
 It happened that near to the place where Khayr lay 
 with his mangled eyes streaming blood a wealthy shep- 
 herd had taken up his station, and his daughter, pass- 
 ing by with a pitcher of water which she had drawn 
 for the use of the family, heard his moans, and, dis- 
 covering his wretched condition, first gave him some 
 water to drink, and then tenderly bound up his eyes 
 and led him to her father’s dwelling. When the shep- 
 herd came home in the evening, and saw the poor youth 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
258 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND PICTIONS. 
 
 whom his daughter had succoured, and learned that he 
 had been deprived of his eyesight, he said that he 
 knew of a certain tree, the leaves of which, made into 
 a plaster, could restore his sight, and added that among 
 the other wonderful qualities of this tree was that of 
 curing the most inveterate epilepsy. The leaves were 
 brought by the shepherd and applied by his beautiful 
 daughter to the young man’s eyes, and in a short time 
 his sight was restored. After this, Khayr, beloved by 
 all the household, and especially by the maiden, for 
 some months assists in keeping the flocks, till at length 
 he thought it proper to depart for his native place. 
 When he intimated this intention to the shepherd and 
 his family, they were all in consternation, and the old 
 man made him an offer of his daughter in marriage, 
 which he gratefully accepted, and they were wedded. 
 Having resided for a year or two in the desert, Khayr 
 visited the tree by the leaves of which his wonderful 
 cure had been effected ; and of each kind of leaves he 
 took a quantity. About this time it was reported that 
 the king’s daughter was afflicted with severe epilepsy, 
 for the cure of which all medicines had failed. Phy- 
 sicians from various countries had in vain exerted their 
 skill ; no remedy could be found. The king had made 
 a condition that any person who succeeded in relieving 
 the princess from the distressing malady should receive 
 her in marriage, and ultimately succeed to the throne ; 
 but that whoever failed, after having seen his daughter’s 
 beauty, should inevitably lose his life. The heads of a 
 thousand unsuccessful doctors had already flown off — 
 
THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 259 
 
 townsmen and strangers ; and yet the love of beauty 
 and ambition of greatness and power were so irresist- 
 ible, that adventurer followed adventurer with horrible 
 swiftness. The rumour at length reached Khayr in his 
 desert home. He undertakes the cure of the princess, 
 marries her, and succeeds to the throne. Previous to 
 his curing the princess, Khayr had cured the daughter 
 of the chief vazir of blindness, and she became his 
 wife ; so that he was blessed at once with no less than 
 three matchless wives, including his desert bride, who 
 was, no doubt, ^'his first, his only love,” the other 
 marriages being de convenance. It happened, not long 
 after he had settled in his new position, that while 
 Khayr was walking in the garden of his palace he saw 
 a man bargaining with a Jew, whom he recognised as 
 his villanous fellow-traveller Shar. He gave orders 
 to have him arrested and brought before him. On 
 being asked his name, he said it was Mabesher Sefiri 
 (the traveller who brings good tidings) ; and Khayr 
 demanding his real name, and Shar persisting in con- 
 cealing it, he declared himself, and condemned Shar to 
 death. But Shar pleaded that he had simply acted in 
 accordance with the decrees of God and with his own 
 name, and that Khayr should act by him according to 
 his name and renown.^ 
 
 Another version is found in a beautiful legendary 
 tale of Tevai — the classical name of the modern town 
 
 ^ Abridged from “ Fragments ” appended to Sir Gore Ouseley’s 
 ‘ Biographical Notices of Persian Poets.’ 
 
260 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 of Eamnad, in the district of Madura, Southern India 
 — translated by S. M. Natesa Sastri Pandit.^ In this 
 tale the principal characters are a king’s son, whose 
 motto is Charity alone conquers,” and his companion, 
 the son of the king’s prime minister, whose motto is 
 ''Absence of charity alone conquers.” The wicked 
 youth, in the course of their adventures, puts out the 
 prince’s eyes, and leaves him in a most deplorable 
 condition. But his eyes are restored by the goddess 
 Kali, in whose temple he afterwards serves for some 
 months. Meanwhile the daughter of the king of the 
 Kaveri country has lost her eyesight, and the king 
 has issued a proclamation that he will give his king- 
 dom and his daughter to him who should cure her of 
 her blindness. The goddess, in reward of his devo- 
 tion, gives the prince a quantity of sacred ashes, 
 which she instructs him to apply, for three consecu- 
 tive days, to the eyes of the afflicted princess, and on 
 the fourth day her sight should be restored. The 
 prince accordingly proceeds to the Kaveri country, 
 is successful in curing the princess, and obtains her 
 in marriage together with the kingdom. In course 
 of time his former companion, the minister’s son, 
 comes to the city, and earns a scanty livelihood by 
 menial occupations. He is recognised by the young 
 king, who sends for him, forgives his cruel conduct 
 towards himself, and places him in a high and con- 
 fidential position. But his evil nature soon shows 
 itself ; and in attempting the destruction of his bene- 
 
 ^ ‘ Folk-Lore in Southern India,’ p. 63. 
 
THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 261 
 
 factor, he is himself destroyed — learning, when too 
 late, the truth of the prince’s motto, '' Charity alone 
 conquers.” — The tone of this story (which must not 
 be judged from my meagre abstract) is decidedly 
 Buddhistic, inculcating, as it does, the great Buddha’s 
 leading doctrine of '' mercy to others.” 
 
262 
 
 THE UNGRATEFUL SERPENT. 
 
 "rTTHILE popular tales generally represent animals 
 * * as grateful for kindness shown to them, 
 occasionally they are exhibited as the very reverse. 
 There is, for example, the world - wide story of the 
 serpent that was found by a traveller fast bound 
 to a tree, and after he had released it, the ungrateful 
 reptile said it would sting him, such being its nature. 
 A philosopher coming up and having had the affair 
 explained to him, he pretended that he could not 
 decide the question of whether the service rendered 
 by the man to the serpent should not exempt him 
 from being bitten, unless he saw the precise condition 
 in which the serpent was before being set free. The 
 serpent consented to be bound again to the tree, upon 
 which the philosopher bids it loose itself, and on its 
 answering that it could not, “ Then,'’ says he, die, 
 for your ingratitude." 
 
 This is the 4th tale of Peter Alfonsus, and the 
 ^ 174th of the Continental ‘ Gesta Eomanorum.' It 
 occurs in most versions of the Fables of Bidpai: the 
 
THE UNGEATEFUL SERPENT. 
 
 263 
 
 ‘ Directoriiim Humanae Vitae’ of John of Capua; the 
 Arabic and Syriac ' Kalila wa Dimna ’ ; the Persian 
 ‘ Anvar-i Suhayli ’ ; in the old Indian story of King 
 Vikramaditya of Ujjain ; Miss Frere’s ‘ Old Deccan 
 Days ’ ; Steel and Temple’s ' Wide-Awake Stories ’ 
 from the Panjab and Kashmir; and in the folk-lore 
 of most countries of Europe. 
 
 The following is a translation of an Albanian 
 variant, in Le Grand’s useful collection: 
 
 Once a hunter passed by a quarry and found a 
 serpent under a stone. The reptile called the 
 hunter to his aid, who said, ''I will not extricate 
 you, for you will eat me.” The serpent answered, 
 “Deliver me; I will not eat you.” But when the 
 hunter had drawn away the stone from above him, 
 the serpent sought to eat him. The hunter said, 
 “ Did you not promise that you would not eat me ? ” 
 The serpent answered him, “ Hunger wdll not keep 
 that bargain.” “But,” replied the hunter, “if you 
 are not right in eating me, will you still eat me ? ” 
 The serpent said, “Ko.” Then said the hunter, 
 “ Come, then, let us make it the subject of three 
 different questions.” So they went into a thicket, 
 where they found a greyhound : they questioned him, 
 and he said, “ I was once with a master, and I caught 
 hares, and when I brought them to his house he 
 could not find meat good enough for me to eat. But 
 now, when I cannot even catch tortoises, because I 
 am old, he wishes to kill me. This is why I condemn 
 
264 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 thee to be eaten by the serpent, for whoever does 
 good gets only evil in return.” '' Do you hear ? ” said 
 the serpent to the hunter ; '' weVe got a judge.” 
 They went farther, and met with a horse : they 
 questioned him, and he also replied that the serpent 
 would be right in eating the hunter. ''Dor,” said 
 he, " I had a master, who gave me food as long as I 
 could do my journey ; but now, when I cannot, he 
 wishes to kill me.” And the serpent said to the 
 hunter, "We have two judges.” They went farther, 
 and found a fox, to whom the hunter said, "Dear 
 Eeynard, you must come to my aid. Listen: I was 
 passing a quarry, and under a great stone I found 
 this serpent, almost dead. He asked me to help him, 
 so I took him out, and now he wants to eat me.” 
 The fox replied, " Must I be the judge ? Let us go 
 then to the quarry, and see how you found the ser- 
 pent.” So they went thither, and placed the stone 
 upon the serpent, and the fox then asked him, " Is 
 that how you were ? ” The serpent said, " Yes.” " Ah, 
 well,” said the fox, "just stay there always.”^ 
 
 In Dasent’s second series of Norse Tales, entitled 
 ' Tales from the Fjeld,’ it is a dragon that is rescued 
 by a wayfarer, and the fox who so cleverly entraps 
 him again, having been granted by the man " the run ” 
 of his poultry -yard every Thursday, as a reward of his 
 service, on his first visit for a supply of hens and geese 
 
 ^ See also Crane’s ' Italian Popular Tales,’ p. 150, for Sicilian and 
 Italian parallels. 
 
THE UNGRATEFUL SERPENT. 
 
 265 
 
 is beaten almost to death, and he exclaims bitterly as 
 he crawls off, “ Such is the way of the world ! ” 
 
 In some Eastern versions the ungrateful animal is 
 an alligator ; in others a tiger, as in ' Wide-Awake 
 Stories ’ : 
 
 A tiger is caught in a trap that had been set for 
 wild beasts, and cannot get out. A poor Brahman 
 comes by, and the tiger cries, “Let me out, 0 pious 
 one!” “Nay,” says the Brahman, “you’d eat me if 
 I did.” “ Not so,” replies the tiger ; “ I should be for 
 ever grateful, and serve you as a slave.” At last the 
 Brahman lets him out, upon which the tiger seizes 
 him, saying, “ What a fool you are now 1 I shall eat 
 you.” The Brahman pleads for his life, but all he 
 could gain was a promise from the tiger to abide by 
 the decision of the first three things he chose to ques- 
 tion. The Brahman refers his case to the pipal-tiQQ, 
 but it says men are ungrateful, and ought not to be 
 allowed to live : “ Don’t I give them shade and shelter ? 
 And don’t they tear down my branches, to feed their 
 cattle on ? ” He next asks a buffalo. “ No ; man has 
 no gratitude. When I gave milk they fed me; but 
 now that I am dry they yoke me and half starve me.” 
 Last of all the question is put to a jackal, who wants 
 to know how the tiger got into the trap, before giving 
 his opinion. So the tiger enters the trap, where he is 
 “ left lamenting,” or gnashing his molars in futile grief. 
 
266 
 
 THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE. 
 
 TT may be safely asserted that there exists no apo- 
 logue, in any language, which is better adapted to 
 inculcate on the young the force of the aphorism, '' the 
 race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the 
 strong,’’ than is the familiar fable, commonly ascribed 
 to JEsop, of the race between the hare and the tortoise. 
 The moral lesson it teaches — that perseverance may 
 achieve success in most untoward circumstances — 
 ingenuous youth on the threshold of active life should 
 "'bind as a sign upon his forehead and as frontlets 
 between his eyes.” This is how the fable is generally 
 told : 
 
 A hare insulted a tortoise on account of his slow- 
 ness, and vainly boasted of her own great speed in 
 running. Let us make a match,” replied the tortoise. 
 “ I’ll run you five miles for five pounds, and the fox 
 yonder shall be umpire of the race.” The hare agreed, 
 and away they both started together ; but the hare, by 
 reason of her exceeding swiftness, outran the tortoise 
 to such a degree that she made a jest of the matter, 
 
THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE. 
 
 267 
 
 and finding herself a little tired, squatted in a tuft of 
 fern that grew by the way, and took a nap, thinking 
 that if the tortoise went by, she could at any time 
 fetch him up with all the ease imaginable. In the 
 meanwhile the tortoise came jogging along at a slow 
 but continued pace, and the hare, out of too great 
 security and confidence of victory, oversleeping herself, 
 the tortoise arrived at the end of the race first. 
 
 Analogues of this celebrated fable, in which a 
 race is run between two creatures of very unequal 
 swiftness and the slower is the winner, are known 
 among widely - separated peoples ; but in these the 
 motif is different — the less swift animal succeeding 
 by its superior cleverness in tricking its antagonist. 
 Sir Alexander Gordon has furnished two interesting 
 versions from Fiji, one of which is as follows : 
 
 The crane and the crab quarrelled as to their powers 
 of racing. The crab said he would go the faster, and 
 that the crane might fly across from point to point, 
 while he went round by the shore. So the crane flew 
 off and the crab stayed quietly in his hole, trusting to 
 the multitude of his brethren to deceive the crane. 
 And the crane flew from point to point, and seeing a 
 crab-hole, put down his ear and heard a buzzing noise. 
 “ That slave is before me,’’ said he, and flew on to the 
 next point, where the same thing happened, till at 
 last, on reaching a point above Serua, the crane fell 
 exhausted, and was drowned in the sea. 
 
 In the other Fijian fable, the contest is between a 
 
268 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 crane and a butterfly. The latter challenges the crane 
 to fly to Tonga, tempting him to do so by asking if he 
 was fond of shrimps. The butterfly perches on the 
 crane’s back, without the crane being aware of it, and 
 whenever the bird looks round and says to himself, 
 “ That low-born fellow is gone ; I can rest and fly 
 slowly now, without fear of his overtaking me,” the 
 butterfly leaves his back and flies a little way ahead, 
 saying, ‘'Here I am, cousin,” till the poor crane 
 dies from sheer exhaustion. 
 
 Several forms of the story are current among the 
 natives of Madagascar. For instance: Once upon a 
 time it was agreed between a frog and a wild-hog that 
 they should race to the top of a hill. But just as the 
 hog commenced to run, the frog leaped upon his neck, 
 and the hog knew nothing about it, for he did not feel 
 him at all, being big in the neck, while the frog was so 
 light that his weight did not ruffle a hair. So the 
 wild-hog ran, and raced, and galloped, and fumed ; 
 and just when he arrived at the goal, the frog leaped 
 off, but the wild-hog did not see him, and so he was 
 forced to say, “ Why, you fellow, you have done it.” 
 Then he proposed that they should see which of them 
 could leap best. “Just as you please,” replied the 
 frog. “ Do your best, for if you don’t exert yourself 
 you will regret it, so don’t have a stomach-ache for 
 nothing.” So the two came to the water-side to try 
 who could leap farthest. And when they came there, 
 and the wild hog was just about to do his best, the frog 
 
THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE. 
 
 269 
 
 jumped again upon his neck. And again the stupid 
 fellow knew nothing about it, for what good is it to be 
 big if one has no sense ? And so, when they were just 
 at the goal, the frog leaped off again, and so he was 
 first, upon which the wild-hog foamed at the mouth, 
 and his eyes turned red. And again he was astonished 
 to see the frog take it so easily, and said, There is no 
 getting the better of you, you rascal ! 
 
 In another Malagasy story the wild-hog reappears 
 contending for superiority of speed with a chameleon : 
 One day as a wild-hog was setting off to hunt, he 
 met with a chameleon on the road by the side of a 
 watercourse, and as he looked at the chameleon he 
 exclaimed, Dear me, what a strange way of walking 
 you have, friend ! Judging from the way you walk, 
 one would think you could never get enough food, 
 friend, for you walk, so slowly. So take care lest some 
 furious beast comes by and tramples you suddenly to 
 death, for you are both weak and very slow in moving 
 about. So I think we two will separate here at this 
 watercourse ; and although I don’t walk quickly, but 
 go along quite gently, just look, for when I have 
 crossed over this valley you will even not have crossed 
 the bed of this little stream.” The chameleon replied, 
 '' True enough, friend, I seem to be very weak, and to 
 go very gently indeed. At the same time, remember 
 that we each possess what is most fitting for us ; and 
 so you are able to get food to satisfy you, and I also 
 obtain food to satisfy myself.” And then the chame- 
 leon spoke again, saying, '' Excuse me, sir, for while I 
 
270 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 am but a little one challenging a big one, yet, if it 
 would not make you angry, let us two play a little 
 along this watercourse.” The wild-hog replied, But 
 what sort of play would you like us to have ? ” The 
 chameleon said, Although you are certainly swift of 
 foot, and I go very slowly, come, let us make a bet 
 about our racing, elder brother.’’ Then the wild-hog 
 was inwardly angry, and said, “ Come, then, let us two 
 go up yonder a little higher to try our speed, for there 
 is a spacious common, while it is boggy where we are 
 just now ; and if you should be struck even by the 
 mud thrown up by my feet, you will be hurt. So 
 let us go yonder to that spacious ground, and if you 
 outrun me, then take me and all my family for your 
 servants.” Then the chameleon answered, “ Why are 
 you angry, elder brother ? For you alone I cannot be 
 a match, for you make me afraid ; how much more, 
 then, if I had all your family as my servants ? But if 
 it is only play we are to engage in, let us then go 
 up yonder to try our speed.” So they went up to the 
 wide common, and agreed together, saying, “At yonder 
 tree-trunk, where the long v6ro grass is growing, let us 
 make our goal, to see who comes in first.” And that 
 being settled, they both arranged themselves in good 
 order, the wild-hog saying, “Now shall we run off?” 
 Then said the chameleon, “Wait a little first, that I 
 may look well at yonder stepping-place.” But the 
 chameleon was crafty, and climbed up the long grass 
 close to the mane of the wild hog, and when he was 
 securely fixed in the mane, he said, “ Now run, elder 
 
271 
 
 THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE. 
 
 brother!’’ And as the wild-hog galloped away, the 
 chameleon kept fast hold of his mane and tail ; and 
 when he came yonder to the appointed place, he leaped 
 off on to the long grass. So, as the wild-hog stood 
 looking behind him, the chameleon said, '' Don’t look 
 behind for me, elder brother, for here I am in front of 
 you.” So the wild-hog was both astonished and angry, 
 and ran off fast again. But the chameleon held fast 
 by his mane as before. And so, after they had gone 
 thus to and fro for a long time, the wild-hog was dead 
 with fatigue, while the chameleon retained his shrewd- 
 ness ; for the wild-hog was killed by his strength like 
 the axe,” and did not think of the cunning of his com- 
 panion, but only of his own size.^ 
 
 A different device was adopted by a tortoise in a 
 competition with a lion, according to a Sinhalese ver- 
 sion, translated by Mr W. Goonetilleke, in ‘ The Orien- 
 talist,’ vol. i. p. 87 : 
 
 Once a tortoise saw a lion on the bank of a narrow 
 river, and said to him, I lay a wager that I shall get 
 to the other side of this river by swimming across it 
 sooner than you can by jumping over it.” The lion 
 accepted the challenge, and a day was fixed for the 
 trial of their speed. In the meantime the tortoise 
 asked a relative of his to be on one side of the river 
 on the day appointed, while he himself would be on 
 the other side. Each was to have a bud of the ratmal 
 
 ^ “ Malagasy Folk-Tales,” by the Rev. James Sibree, junior ; in the 
 ‘Folk-Lore Journal ’ (1884), vol. ii. pp. 80, 81, 166-168. 
 
272 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 flower in his mouth. On the day fixed the lion made 
 his appearance, and said to the tortoise, ''Are you 
 ready " Yes, I am,’’ answered the tortoise. "Well, 
 then, let us begin,” rejoined the lion. This being 
 agreed to, the lion jumped to the other side, and was 
 surprised to see the tortoise already there. They then 
 agreed to continue the course till one of them should 
 be tired and give up the wager. So the lion kept on 
 jumping from that side to this, until at last he was so 
 exhausted that he fell into the river and was drowned. 
 
 From Ceylon the story may have been imported 
 into Siam, where, however, it is related in a form 
 which seems to indicate an Indian extraction. Adolf 
 Bastien has given it in his collection of tales, made by 
 himself during a lengthened sojourn in Siam:^ 
 
 It happened once that Phaya Kruth ^ was in search 
 of nagas snakes] to fill his crop with, but could 
 not find a sufficient number of them. He therefore 
 came to a lake, and seeing a tortoise in it, thought of 
 eating him up. But the tortoise cried out, "Before 
 you devour me, let us run a race.” Phaya Kruth 
 agreed to the proposal, and proudly rose up high in 
 the air. In the meantime the tortoise called together 
 
 1 Translated by Mr Goonetilleke, in ‘ The Orientalist,’ vol. i. p. 88, 
 from the German version of Herr Bastien, reproduced in ‘ Orient 
 und Occident,’ band hi. s. 497. 
 
 2 Phaya Kruth is Vishnu’s vehicle, Garuda, who, at the direction 
 of Kasyapa, rushed into heaven itself and carried off the Amrita from 
 the gods in order to ransom his mother, who had been captured by 
 the snakes. 
 
THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE. 
 
 273 
 
 all Ills relatives and acquaintances — the whole genera- 
 tion of tortoises — and placed them in rows of 100, of 
 1000, of 10,000, of 100,000, of 1,000,000, and of 
 10,000,000, covering the whole ground. Kruth flew 
 about with the whole strength of his wings, and the 
 tortoise called out to him, '‘Well, let us begin. I beg 
 your highness to fly along the sky while I move in 
 the water. We shall see which of us will be the 
 winner. If I lose I shall give myself up for a prey.’’ 
 Kruth flew forwards with all his might, and then 
 stopped and called out to the tortoise ; but to which- 
 ever side he flew, the tortoise always answered him 
 from ahead. Kruth then flew again as fast as he 
 could, but at every point the tortoise was in advance 
 of him. He then flew and flew as far as the great 
 mountain, the sacred Himaphan, and at last exclaimed, 
 " Hear, 0 tortoise ! you indeed understand how to run 
 pretty fast,” and giving up the race, he alighted on a 
 ratJial-ticQQ, the place of his abode, to rest. 
 
 The story is most likely to be known to the Mon- 
 golian races, in common with other tales and fables of 
 Buddhist invention or adaptation. In the incident of 
 the Brave Little Tailor (in the German story, see ante, 
 p. 151) seating himself among the branches of the tree, 
 which he undertook to carry along with the giant, we 
 seem to have a reflection of the device of the frog and 
 the chameleon clinging to the neck of the wild-hog, in 
 the Malagasy versions, and of that of the butterfly 
 perched on the crane in the Fijian variant. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 s 
 
274 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 The Origin of Fables. 
 
 The term Fable is often indiscriminately applied to any kind 
 of fictitious tale, but it properly signifies a moral narrative in 
 which beasts, birds, or fishes are the characters. Although it 
 is generally allowed that Fable was the earliest form of narra- 
 tive designed to convey moral instruction, yet it is by no means 
 agreed among the learned in what country of remote antiquity 
 it had its origin. A modern German rabbi. Dr Landsberger, in 
 his erudite little treatise, ‘Die Fabeln des Sophos,’ contends 
 that the Hebrews were the first to employ fables for didactic 
 purposes ; and we have probably one of the oldest extant fables 
 in the Book of Judges, ix. 8-15, related by Jotham to the people 
 of Israel, of the trees desiring a king. Josephus informs us that 
 Solomon “ composed of parables and similitudes three thousand ; 
 for he spoke a parable upon every sort of tree, from the 
 hyssop to the cedar ; and in like manner, also about beasts, 
 about all sorts of living creatures, whether upon earth, or in 
 the seas, or in the air ; for he was not unacquainted with any 
 of their natures, nor omitted inquiring about them, but de- 
 scribed them all like a philosopher, and demonstrated his ex- 
 quisite knowledge of their several properties.” ^ Dr Landsberger 
 asserts that the sages of India were indebted to the Hebrews 
 for the idea of teaching by means of fables, probably during the 
 reign of Solomon, who is believed to have had commerce with 
 the western coasts of Hindustan. But this is mere conjecture. 
 
 “ As far as relates to teaching by apologues,” says Dr H. H. 
 Wilson, “ although there can be no doubt that it was a national 
 contrivance [of the Hindus], devised by them for their own use, 
 and not borrowed from their neighbours, yet there is no suffi- 
 cient reason to suppose that it was originally confined to them, 
 or at first communicated by them to other nations. It has been 
 urged, with some plausibility, that the universal prevalence 
 amongst the Hindus of the doctrine of the metempsychosis was 
 calculated to recommend to their belief the notion that beasts 
 
THE ORIGIN OF FABLES. 
 
 27 5 
 
 and birds might reason and converse, and that consequently the 
 plan of such dialogues probably originated with them ; but the 
 notion is one that readily suggests itself to the imagination, and 
 an inventive fancy was quite as likely as a psychological dogma 
 to have gifted mute creatures with intelligence. At any rate, 
 we know that, as an article of poetical and almost of religious 
 faith, it was known to the Greeks at an early date, for Homer 
 is authority for the speech of horses. Without affirming the 
 apocryphal existence of ^sop, we cannot doubt that fables such 
 as are ascribed to him were current even prior to his supposed 
 date ; and we have an instance of the fact in the story of the 
 Hawk and the Nightingale of Hesiod. Other specimens of the 
 same class of compositions are afforded by the fable of the Fox 
 and the Ape of Archilochus, of which a fragment is preserved 
 by Eustathius ; and by that of the Eagle and the Fox, which 
 is attributed to the same writer, and is an established member 
 of all collections of fables, both in Asia and in Europe. Eoman 
 tradition — it would have once been called history — furnishes 
 at least one well-known instance of popular instruction by fable, 
 which Menenius was not likely to have learnt from the Hindus ; 
 and various examples of this style of composition are familiarly 
 known as occurring in Scripture. Although the invention was 
 very probably of Eastern origin, we cannot admit that it was 
 in any exclusive degree a contrivance of the Hindus, or that 
 it was imparted originally by them to other Asiatic nations. 
 If such a communication did take place, it must have occurred 
 at a period anterior even to Hindu tradition.” 
 
 The danger of attempting openly to administer reproof to 
 absolute Asiatic potentates may have led to the invention of 
 fables, in which the lessons intended to be imparted were veiled 
 under ingenious fictions of animals. Oriental historians have 
 preserved a curious anecdote of a tyrannical monarch having 
 been reclaimed by such means. A wise and prudent vazir once 
 related the following fable to his royal master : There was an 
 owl in El-Basra and an owl in El-Mosul. And the owl of El- 
 Basra said to the other one day, ^‘Give me thy daughter in 
 marriage to my son ” Quoth the owl of El-Mosul, “ I consent, 
 on condition that thou give me as her dowry a hundred ruined 
 
276 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 villages.” That,” replied the owl of El-Basra, “ I cannot do 
 at present ; but if Allah spare the sultan another year, I will 
 do what thou requirest.” The sultan, deeply impressed by this 
 simple fable, at once caused all the ruined towns and villages 
 to be rebuilt, and henceforward studied to promote the well- 
 being of his subjects, and to render his rule easy and acceptable 
 to them. 
 
277 
 
 THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS. 
 CCOEDINGr to one of Grimm’s fairy tales of Ger- 
 
 many, a poor man sent his four sons away, each to 
 learn some craft by which he should earn his living. 
 Having gone some distance together, they separate at 
 four cross-roads, agreeing to meet at the same spot 
 that day four years hence. The eldest learnt to be an 
 expert thief, but “ only of fair game ” ; the second was 
 a skilful star-gazer, and received from his master, as a 
 parting gift, a glass, by which he could see all that was 
 going on in the sky and on the earth ; the third had 
 become an expert archer, under the tuition of a hunts- 
 man, who presented him with a bow, with which he 
 was sure to hit whatever he shot at ; and the youngest 
 became so clever a tailor that his master gave him a 
 needle with which he might sew anything, no matter 
 how hard or how soft or brittle, so that no seam could 
 be discovered. They each give proof of their skill 
 before their father : the star-gazer tells by means of 
 his magic telescope how many eggs are in a bird’s nest 
 high up in a tree ; the thief takes the eggs from be- 
 
278 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 neath the bird without its knowledge ; the archer cuts 
 all five eggs in two with one shot, although placed one 
 at each corner of the table and the fifth in the centre ; 
 the tailor sews them up again with his wonderful 
 needle : and when the birds are hatched, lo ! each has 
 only a little red streak across its neck, where they had 
 been sewed together ! Some time after this the king’s 
 daughter was carried off. The king promised her as 
 the wife of the man who recovered her. The second 
 son, by means of his glass, discovered her sitting on a 
 rock by the sea and a fierce dragon guarding her. The 
 king gave them a ship, and they sailed away till they 
 came to the place. But the archer dared not shoot, 
 lest he should kill the princess ; so the thief stole her 
 away while the dragon was asleep. They had not 
 sailed far on their way back when the dragon awoke 
 and flew after them ; the huntsman shot him through 
 the heart, but, unluckily, as he fell he upset the boat, 
 and they had to swim upon a few planks. Then the 
 tailor sewed the planks together with his wonderful 
 needle, and they sailed about and gathered the pieces 
 of their boat, which he also sewed together, and so they 
 reached the ship and got home safe. They brought 
 the princess to her father, and each of them claimed 
 her : the second, because he had discovered where she 
 was; the first, because he had stolen her; the third, 
 because he had slain the dragon; and the youngest, 
 because he had sewed the planks and thus saved all 
 their lives. But it happened that the princess was 
 attached to another person, so the father decided that 
 
THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS. 
 
 279 
 
 she should be married to none of the sons. But the 
 king gave each of them half a kingdom, and they 
 lived contented and happy ever after. 
 
 A very curious version is found in the Albanian 
 Tales, translated into French by M. Dozen, under the 
 title of ‘ Le Pou ’ (No. 4 of his collection) : The 
 devil having whisked away to his grim abode the 
 beautiful daughter of a king, the latter offered her 
 hand in marriage to whoever should rescue her from 
 the arch-fiend’s clutches. Seven youths present them- 
 selves : the first could hear sounds at any distance ; 
 the second could cause the earth to open; the third 
 could steal from any one without his knowledge ; the 
 fourth could throw an object to the end of the world ; 
 the fifth could instantaneously erect an impregnable 
 and inaccessible tower; the sixth could bring down 
 anything, however high, with a single shot ; and the 
 seventh could catch whatever fell from the sky, no 
 matter how great the altitude. They set off ; and 
 having travelled some distance, the first youth laid 
 his ear to the ground, and then said, '' I hear him — 
 command thou,” addressing the second youth, ‘‘the 
 earth to open at this spot,” which being done, im- 
 mediately the earth opened, and they descended into 
 its bowels, where, guided by the loud noise of snoring, 
 they came upon the fiend sound asleep, with the 
 princess clutched to his breast. The third youth, by 
 his art, removed the princess without awaking the 
 sleeping fiend, at the same time putting a toad in her 
 
280 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 place. Then the fourth took off one of the devil’s 
 shoes and threw it to the end of the world, after 
 which they all returned by the way they had come, 
 and commenced their journey back to the king’s 
 dominions. But presently the arch-fiend awoke, and 
 the grimy cavern resounded with his bellowing on 
 his discovering that the princess was gone ; and his 
 rage was not less when he found that one of his shoes 
 lay at the end of the world, since he well knew that 
 his journey thither to fetch it (for apparently he had 
 not any sons of St Crispin among his subjects to make 
 him another) would give the fugitives a good start of 
 him. Having, with his utmost diligence, recovered 
 his precious shoe, he sped after the fugitives, who 
 perceiving him in the distance, the fifth youth in a 
 moment erected a lofty tower, in which they took 
 reTuge — and not an instant too soon, for hardly were 
 they within, when the enraged fiend came up. Find- 
 ing all his efforts to break into the tower futile, the 
 crafty one told them that he would go away and 
 trouble them no more if they would let him have one 
 last look at the princess: they made a very small 
 aperture through which he might see the lady, when, 
 in less than no time,” he drew her through it, and 
 flew with her high up into the air. The sixth youth 
 now brought his special art into play, by drawing his 
 bow and shooting the fiend, who, writhing with pain, 
 dropped the princess, and the seventh youth caught 
 her as she fell, so that she was uninjured. Eesuming 
 their journey, they in due time reached the palace in 
 
THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS. 
 
 281 
 
 safety, and the king, delighted to have his daughter 
 restored to him, desired her to choose one of the seven 
 clever youths for her husband. '' They have all con- 
 tributed to my safety,” said the princess, '' especially 
 he who caught me as I fell.” Now the seventh youth 
 was the youngest and best lookmg, so she chose him 
 for her husband; but the others were all richly re- 
 warded by the king. 
 
 In the Kalmuk tales of ' Siddhi Kiir ’ (Second Eola- 
 tion) a rich youth, an astrologer, a mechanic, a painter, 
 a physician, and a smith go forth together into a 
 foreign country, and coming to the mouth of a great 
 river, each plants a tree of life, and, agreeing to meet 
 at the same spot again, they separate, each following 
 one of the branches of the river (the four cross-roads 
 of the German tale). The youth marries a beautiful 
 maiden, who is ravished from him by the khan, and 
 he himself is murdered and buried beneath a rock. 
 When the others meet at the place where they separ- 
 ated, they find the youth’s tree of life withered. The 
 astrologer discovers where his body lay; the smith 
 breaks the rock, and draws it from beneath ; and the 
 physician, by means of a wonderful cordial, restores 
 the youth to life. Then he informed them how the 
 khan had stolen away his lovely wife, so they re- 
 solved to rescue her. And the mechanic constructed 
 a wooden garuda,^ which could move through the air 
 like a living bird ; and the painter decorated it in the 
 ^ Garuda is the Bird of Vishnu in Hindd mythology. 
 
282 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 finest colours. Then the youth seated himself within 
 the wooden garuda, which flew up through the air, 
 and hovering above the royal residence, the khan, 
 astonished at the beauty of the bird, told his wife to 
 go to the roof of the house and offer it all kinds of 
 choice food. When she recognised the youth, she 
 flew into his arms, and instantly seating her beside 
 him, and turning the peg that guided the bird, he soon 
 descended among his companions, who, on seeing the 
 beauty of the damsel, began to quarrel for her posses- 
 sion, and drew their knives and slew each other. 
 
 A different form of the story is found in IsTakhshabf s 
 Persian Tales of a Parrot (Ttiti Nama) ; Night 34 of 
 the MS., No. 2573 in the Library of the India Office : 
 A rich merchant of Kabul had a beautiful daughter, 
 named Zuhra (or Venus), who had many wealthy 
 suitors, but declared that she would marry only a man 
 who was completely wise or very skilful. Three young 
 men presented themselves before the merchant, saying 
 that if his daughter demands a man of skill for her 
 husband, either of them was an eligible candidate. 
 The first youth said that his art was to discover the 
 whereabouts of anything that was lost, and to predict 
 future events. The second could make a horse of wood, 
 which would float in the air like Solomon’s throne. 
 And the third was an archer, and could pierce any 
 object at which he might shoot with his arrow. The 
 merchant having reported to his daughter the wonder- 
 ful acquirements of her three new suitors, she promised 
 
THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS. 
 
 283 
 
 to give her decision next morning. But the same night 
 she disappeared, and the unhappy father sent for the 
 three youths to rescue his daughter by the exercise of 
 their arts. The first youth discovered that a div (or 
 demon) had carried the damsel to the summit of a 
 mountain, which was inaccessible to men. The second 
 made a wooden horse, and gave it to the third, who 
 rode upon it, quickly reached the mountain, killed 
 the div with an arrow, and brought away the maiden. 
 
 Each of the three claimed her as his by right, and 
 the dispute continued.” 
 
 We find another variant in the unique Persian 
 MS. text of the ' Sindibad Nama,’ preserved in the 
 India Office Library, where it forms the last of the 
 tales related by the prince. A king’s daughter, while 
 sporting with her maidens in a garden, is carried away 
 by a demon to his cave in the mountains of Yemen. 
 The king offers the hand of the princess in marriage, 
 and half his kingdom, to the man who should bring her 
 back. Four brothers undertake the adventure : One is 
 a guide, who had travelled over the world ; the second 
 a daring robber, who would have taken the prey from 
 the lion’s mouth;” the third a warrior, like Eustam ; 
 and the fourth a skilful physician. The guide leads 
 the others to the demon’s cave ; the robber steals the 
 damsel, in the absence of the demon ; the damsel being 
 very ill, the physician restores her to health ; while the 
 warrior puts to flight a whole army of divs who had 
 sallied forth with huge clubs on their shoulders. 
 
284 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 The Japanese seem to have been familiar with the 
 story as early at least as the beginning of the tenth 
 century, when their classical romance, ' Genji Mono- 
 gatari,’ was composed, in which one of the characters, 
 speaking of a young lady whose father had entertained 
 great hopes of her matrimonial success, exclaims, '' Ah, 
 she is a woman who is likely to become the Queen of 
 the Blue Main ! ” On this the translator, Suyematz 
 Kenchis, has the following note : “ In an old Indian 
 story, a certain king of ancient times had a beautiful 
 daughter. Four neighbouring kings became her suitors. 
 Suddenly the daughter was lost. Her parents made 
 every search, and it was at last discovered that there was 
 a dragon’s castle at the bottom of the blue main. The 
 dragon king had carried her off and placed her in his 
 castle. The father and the four suitor kings went there 
 together, and having rescued her, brought her back.” — 
 The circumstance that in the German version, as in the 
 Japanese, it is a '^dragon” that carries off the damsel, 
 may perhaps indicate that this is one of the stories 
 introduced into Europe by the Mongolians. 
 
 The Arabian tale of Prince Ahmed and the Peri 
 Band is a familiar variant : Three princes are in love 
 with their cousin, who is to be given to him that should 
 bring the most wonderful thing. One obtains a magic 
 carpet ; another an ivory telescope ; and the third an 
 apple which could cure the person who smelt at it, 
 even if at the very point of death. The youth with the 
 telescope discovers that the princess is dying; the 
 
THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS. 
 
 285 
 
 magic carpet carries all three from a distant country to 
 the chamber of the lady ; and the apple restores her to 
 health. — ^With this the first part of the story of the 
 Three Princes, in Powell and Magnussen’s ‘ Icelandic 
 Legends’ (pp. 348-354), exactly corresponds, excepting 
 that the apple, instead of being smelt at, is put in the 
 arm-pit of the sick person. And, to go to the other 
 extremity of Europe, we have also a parallel in 
 Von Hahn’s ‘ Neugriechische Marchen ’ : Three young 
 men love the same girl; and in order to settle the 
 question, which of them shall marry her, they agree 
 to go away and return at a certain time, when which- 
 ever shall have learned the best craft shall have the 
 girl. They all return after three years’ absence. One 
 is a renowned astronomer; the second can raise the 
 dead ; and the third can run quicker than the air, and 
 be in a moment wherever he wishes. When they have 
 all met, the astronomer looks at the girl’s star, and 
 knows from its trembling that she is at the point of 
 death. The physician — he who can raise the dead — 
 prepares a medicine for the girl’s recovery. The third 
 runs off with the remedy, and by pouring it down her 
 throat saves her life : her soul, which was at her teeth 
 ready to depart, went down again.^ 
 
 We have probably the original of all these different 
 versions in the fifth of the ' Vetalapanchavinsati ’ 
 (Twenty -five Tales of a Demon — see note, p. 82), 
 
 ^ ‘ Contes Populaires Grecs,’ par J. G. Von Hahn, ddit^es par H. 
 Pio : Athens et Copenhagen, 1879. No. II. p. 98. 
 
286 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 where we read that a certain king’s minister, named 
 Harisvamin, had an excellent son, and also a beautiful 
 daughter, who was rightly named Somaprabha, or 
 Moonlight. This damsel made her mother give the 
 following message to her father and her brother : 
 '‘I shall be married to a man possessed of heroism, 
 or knowledge, or magic power ; you must not give 
 me in marriage to any other, if you value my life.” 
 Harisvamin was looking for a person possessed of one 
 of these qualifications when the king despatched him 
 on state business into the Dekkan, and while there a 
 Brahman, who had heard of the great beauty of Soma- 
 prabha, came to him and sought her hand. Harisva- 
 min informed him of the three qualifications, one of 
 which his daughter had resolved her husband must 
 possess, and the suitor replied that he had the power 
 to construct a magic chariot that could fly in the air, 
 and having convinced Harisvamin of this, he promised 
 Somaprabha to him, fixing the marriage for the seventh 
 day from that time. Meanwhile his son had promised 
 his sister to another Brahman, who had satisfied him 
 that he possessed wonderful skill in the use of missiles 
 and hand-to-hand weapons, and, by advice of the 
 astrologers, appointed the very same seventh day for 
 the marriage. And at the same time his mother, who 
 knew nothing of the engagement her son had entered 
 into, gave her promise to a third person, who possessed 
 supernatural knowledge, that Somaprabha should be 
 given to him in marriage on the same seventh day. — 
 When Harisvamin came home, and told his wife and 
 
THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS. 
 
 287 
 
 his son that he had promised Somaprabha to a noble 
 Brahman in the Dekkan, and was informed by them 
 of the engagements they had also made unknown to 
 each other, his mind was filled with anxiety, and he 
 knew not what course to pursue in such perplexing 
 circumstances. On the wedding-day the three bride- 
 grooms arrived — the man of knowledge, the man of 
 magic power, and the man of valour ; and just then it 
 was discovered that Somaprabha had mysteriously 
 disappeared. Man of knowledge,” said Harisvamin, 
 tell me where my daughter has gone.” He replied 
 that a rakshasa had carried her off to his habitation 
 in the Vindhya forest. On hearing this the father 
 exclaimed, Alas ! how are we to recover her ? ” 
 The man of magic power said, “ Be of good cheer ; 
 I will take you in a moment to the place where 
 the possessor of knowledge says she is ; ” saying 
 which, he prepared a chariot that could fly in the 
 air, provided with all kinds of weapons, and made 
 Harisvamin, the man of knowledge, and the brave man 
 get into it, and in a moment he carried them to the 
 habitation of the rakshasa, who, on seeing them, 
 rushed out in a rage, when the hero challenged 
 him to fight. And in a short time the hero cut off 
 the head of the rakshasa, after which they carried 
 off Somaprabha and returned in the magic chariot. 
 When they reached Harisvamin’s house a dispute 
 arose between the man of knowledge, the man of 
 magic power, and the man of valour, and while they 
 were wrangling, each claiming Somaprabha because 
 
288 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 of the share he had in her recovery, Haris vamin re-"" 
 mained silent, perplexed in mind. 
 
 It is worthy of note that in this last, and oldest, 
 form of the story, and also in the ‘Tiiti Hama’ version, 
 the damsel is not represented as being ill, as in the 
 ' Sindibad Hama ’ and the Arabian versions. Accord- 
 ing to Professor Tawney, the 47th tale of the ' Pen- 
 tamerone ’ of Basile and “ Das Weise Urtheil in 
 Waldau’s 'Bohmische Marchen’ closely resemble the 
 Arabian story. Whence the Italian novelist obtained 
 it we cannot say ; but Galland’s French translation of 
 the 'Thousand and One Mghts,’ through which that 
 work first became known in Europe, was not published 
 till many years after the ' Pentamerone ’ was printed. 
 The story may have come into Italy with Venetian 
 merchants trading in the Levant. 
 
289 
 
 CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 ^ISTE should scarcely conceive that our prime nursery 
 ^ favourites the “House that Jack built’’ and the 
 “Old Woman and the Crooked Sixpence” have their 
 prototype in a sacred hymn in the Hebrew Talmud ! 
 Yet such is the case, and in order to show this, I must 
 here reproduce the first-mentioned “ story ” : 
 
 1 This is the House that Jack built. 
 
 2 This is the Malt 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 3 This is the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 4 This is the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 5 This is the Dog, 
 
 That worried the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 T 
 
290 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 6 This is the Cow with the crumpled horn, 
 
 That tossed the Dog, 
 
 That worried the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 7 This is the Maiden, all forlorn. 
 
 That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn. 
 That tossed the Dog, 
 
 That worried the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 8 This is the Man, all tattered and torn. 
 
 That kissed the Maiden,, all forlorn. 
 
 That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, 
 That tossed the Dog, 
 
 That worried the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 9 This is the Priest, all shaven and shorn. 
 
 That married the Man, all tattered and torn. 
 That kissed the Maiden, all forlorn. 
 
 That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn. 
 That tossed the Dog, 
 
 That worried the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 10 This is the Cock, that cried in the morn. 
 
 That woke the Priest, all shaven and shorn, 
 That married the Man, all tattered and torn. 
 That kissed the Maiden, all forlorn. 
 
 That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn. 
 
CUMULATIVE STOKIES. 
 
 291 
 
 That tossed the Dog, 
 
 That worried the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that Jack built. 
 
 1 1 And this is the Farmer, sowing his corn. 
 
 That kept the Cock, that cried in the morn, 
 
 That waked the Priest, all shaven and shorn. 
 
 That married the Man, all tattered and torn. 
 
 That kissed the Maiden, all forlorn, 
 
 That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, 
 
 That tossed the Dog, 
 
 That worried the Cat, 
 
 That killed the Eat, 
 
 That ate the Malt, 
 
 That lay in the House that J ack built ! 
 
 The following is a translation of a mystical hymn in 
 the “ Sepher Haggadah ” of the Talmud : 
 
 1 A kid, a kid, my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 2 Then came the cat, and ate the kid 
 That my father bought 
 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 3 Then came the dog, and bit the cat. 
 
 That ate the kid. 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 4 Then came the staff, and beat the dog. 
 
 That bit the cat. 
 
292 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 That ate the kid, 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 5 Then came the fire, and burned the staff. 
 That beat the dog. 
 
 That bit the cat. 
 
 That ate the kid, 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 6 Then came the water, and quenched the fire. 
 That burned the staff. 
 
 That beat the dog. 
 
 That bit the cat. 
 
 That ate the kid, 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 7 Then came the ox, and drank the water. 
 That quenched the fire, 
 
 That burned the staff. 
 
 That beat the dog. 
 
 That bit the cat, 
 
 That ate the kid. 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 8 Then came the butcher, and slew the ox. 
 That drank the water. 
 
 That quenched the fire. 
 
 That burned the staff. 
 
 That beat the dog. 
 
 That bit the cat, 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 293 
 
 That ate the kid, 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 9 Then came the Angel of Death, and killed the butcher. 
 That slew the ox, 
 
 That drank the water, 
 
 That quenched the fire. 
 
 That burned the staff. 
 
 That beat the dog, 
 
 That bit the cat. 
 
 That ate the kid. 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 10 Then came the Holy One, blessed be He ! and 
 
 killed the Angel of Death, 
 
 That killed the butcher. 
 
 That slew the ox, 
 
 That drank the water. 
 
 That quenched the fire, 
 
 That burned the staff, 
 
 That beat the dog. 
 
 That bit the cat. 
 
 That ate the kid. 
 
 That my father bought 
 For two pieces of money ; 
 
 A kid, a kid. 
 
 This is the historical interpretation of the above 
 curiosity of rabbinical literature, given by P. N. 
 Leberecht, at Leipzic, in 1731 : 
 
 1. The hid, which was one of the pure animals, 
 denotes the Hebrews ; the father, by whom it was 
 purchased, is Jehovah, who represents himself as 
 
294 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 sustaining this relation to the Jewish nation; the 
 two pieces of money signify Moses and Aaron, through 
 whose mediation the Hebrews were brought out of 
 Egypt. 
 
 2. The cat denotes the Assyrians, by whom the ten 
 tribes were carried into captivity. 
 
 3. The dog is symbolical of the Babylonians. 
 
 4. The staff signifies the Persians. 
 
 5. The fire indicates the Greek Empire under Alex- 
 ander the Great. 
 
 6. The water betokens the Eomans — as the fourth 
 of the great monarchies to whose dominion the J ews 
 were subjected. 
 
 7. The ox is a symbol of the Saracens, who subdued 
 Palestine, and brought it under the Khalifat. 
 
 8. The huteher that killed the ox denotes the Cru- 
 saders, by whom the Holy Land was wrested out of the 
 hands of the Saracens. 
 
 9. The Angel of Death signifies the Turkish power, 
 by which the land of Palestine was taken from the 
 Franks, and to which it is still subject. 
 
 10. The commencement of this tenth stanza is 
 designed to show that God will take signal vengeance 
 on the Turks, immediately after whose overthrow the 
 Jews are to be restored to their own land, and live 
 under the government of their long-expected Messiah. 
 
 The stick, fire, water, and butcher of the Hebrew 
 hymn play their parts in the story of the Old Woman 
 and the Crooked Sixpence : 
 
CUMULATIVE STOEIES. 
 
 295 
 
 An old woman was sweeping her house and she 
 found a little crooked sixpence. ''What/’ said she, 
 " shall I do with this little sixpence ? I will go to 
 market and buy a little pig.” As she was coming 
 home, she came to a stile, but piggy would not go over 
 the stile. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met with a dog. 
 So she said to the dog, " Dog ! dog ! bite pig ; piggy 
 won’t go over the stile, and I shan’t get home to-night.” 
 But the dog would not. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met a stick. So 
 she said, " Stick ! stick ! beat dog ; dog won’t bite pig ; 
 piggy won’t go over the stile, and I shan’t get home 
 to-night.” But the stick would not. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met a fire. So 
 she said, "Fire! fire! burn stick; stick won’t beat 
 dog ; dog won’t bite pig ” {and so on, always repeating 
 the foregoing words). But the fire would not. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met some water. 
 So she said, "Water! water! quench fire; fire won’t 
 burn stick,” etc. But the water would not. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met an ox. So 
 she said, " Ox ! ox ! drink water ; water won’t quench 
 fire,” etc. But the ox would not. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met a butcher. 
 So she said, " Butcher ! butcher ! kill ox ; ox won’t 
 drink water,” etc. But the butcher would not. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met a rope. So 
 she said, " Eope ! rope ! hang butcher ; butcher won’t 
 kill ox,” etc. But the rope would not. 
 
296 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met a rat. So she 
 said, '' Eat ! rat ! gnaw rope ; rope won’t hang butcher,” 
 etc. But the rat would not. 
 
 She went a little farther, and she met a cat. So she 
 said, '' Cat ! cat ! kill rat ; rat won’t gnaw rope,” etc. 
 But the cat said, '' If you will go to yonder cow and 
 fetch me a saucer of milk, I will kill the rat.” So away 
 went the old woman to the cow. 
 
 And the cow said to her, If you will go to yonder 
 haycock, and fetch me a handful of hay. I’ll give you 
 milk.” So away the old woman went to the haycock, 
 and she brought hay to the cow. And as soon as the 
 cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman milk, 
 and away the old woman went with it in a saucer to 
 the cat. 
 
 And as soon as the cat had lapped up the milk, the 
 cat began to kill the rat, the rat began to gnaw the 
 rope, the rope began to hang the butcher, the butcher 
 began to kill the ox, the ox began to drink the water, 
 the water began to quench the fire, the fire began to 
 burn the stick, the stick began to beat the dog, the 
 dog began to bite the pig, the little pig in a fright 
 jumped over the stile, and so the old woman got home 
 that night.^ 
 
 ^ The Scotch version, entitled the Wife and her Bush of Berries, 
 agrees very closely with this favourite English nursery tale — see 
 Chambers’ ‘ Popular Rhymes of Scotland. ’ An Aberdeenshire vari- 
 ant, “ The Wifie and her Kidie,” is given by the Rev. Walter Gregor 
 in the ^ Folk-Lore Journal,’ vol. ii. pp. 277, 278. 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 297 
 
 Another of our English cumulative stories is one 
 beginning — 
 
 John Ball shot them all, 
 
 John Scott made the shot, 
 
 But John Ball shot them all. 
 
 We need not, however, parade Mr Ball and his num- 
 erous coadjutors, but shall proceed to cite similar 
 stories from other languages. Mr Campbell, in his 
 ‘ Popular Tales of the West Highlands,’ gives the 
 cumulative story of a couple named Moorachug and 
 Menachaig, who went one day to gather fruit, but as 
 fast as the man gathered his wife ate — his share as 
 well as her own ; so he went to a rod, and asked it to 
 beat Menachaig for eating his share of the fruit, but 
 the rod told him he must get an axe to dress it ; so he 
 went to the axe, but the axe told him he must get a 
 stone to smooth it ; so he went to a stone, but he must 
 have water to wet it ; so he went to the water, but he 
 must first get a deer to swim it ; so he went to the 
 deer, but the deer says he must first get a dog to run 
 him ; so he went to the dog, but the dog says he must 
 first have his feet rubbed with butter ; so he went to 
 the butter, but he must first get a mouse to scrape it ; 
 so he went to the mouse, but he must first get a cat to 
 hunt him ; so he went to the cat, but the cat must first 
 get milk ; so he went to the cow, but the cow must 
 first get a wisp of hay from the barn-gillie ; so he went 
 to the barn-gillie, but he must first get a bannock from 
 the baking-woman ; so he went to the baking- woman. 
 
298 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 but she must have some water. '' How shall I bring 
 the water ? ” '' There’s nothing but the sowens-sieve,” 
 
 says the woman. But every drop of water he puts in 
 it goes through. An old woman tells him to put in 
 clay and moss, and so he brought in the water to the 
 baking- woman, and he got a bannock for the barn-gillie 
 — a wisp of hay from the barn-gillie for the cow — milk 
 from the cow for the cat then the cat began to hunt 
 the mouse — the mouse to scrape the butter — the but- 
 ter to rub the dog’s feet — the dog to hunt the deer — the 
 deer to swim the water — the water to wet the stone — 
 the stone to smooth the axe — the axe to dress the rod 
 — the rod to beat Menachaig, and she eating his share 
 of the fruit. But when Moorachug returned to Men- 
 achaig, she had just hurst! 
 
 Such ''accumulative” stories as these seem to be 
 current in almost all countries. In Pitre’s Sicilian 
 collection we find a parallel to our Old Woman and 
 the Crooked Sixpence : Once upon a time there was 
 a mother who had a daughter named Pitidda. She 
 said to her, " Go sweep the house.” " Give me some 
 bread first.” " I cannot,” she answered. When her 
 mother saw that she would not sweep the house, she 
 called to the wolf, saying, "Wolf, go kill Pitidda, for 
 Pitidda will not sweep the house.” " I can’t,” said the 
 wolf. " Dog, go kill wolf,” said the mother ; " for the 
 wolf will not kill Pitidda, for Pitidda won’t sweep the 
 house.” " I can’t,” said the dog. " Stick, go beat dog,” 
 and so on. Pire to burn stick ; water to quench fire ; 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 299 
 
 cow to drink water ; rope to choke cow ; mouse to 
 gnaw rope; and cat to eat mouse, and so on. — In 
 another Sicilian variant, entitled the Sexton’s Nose, 
 the dog who has bitten his nose refuses a hair to heal 
 it without getting some bread ; so the sexton goes to 
 the baker and asks for some bread, but the baker must 
 first get some wood ; so he goes to the woodman, who 
 must get a mattock ; to the smith, who wants coals ; 
 to the collier, who must first get a cart ; to the waggon- 
 maker, who gives him a cart, which the sexton gives 
 to the collier, who gives him coals, which he gives to 
 the smith, who gives him a mattock, which he gives to 
 the woodman, who gives him some faggots, which he 
 gives to the baker, who gives him bread, which he 
 gives to the dog, who at length gives the sexton a 
 hair, which he applies to his nose, and the wound is 
 cured.i 
 
 Traces of the Hebrew hymn are also found in the 
 Norse story. How they brought Hairlock home: A 
 certain dame had three sons — Peter, Paul, and Osborn 
 Boots — also a nanny-goat, called Hairlock. Boots sets 
 out to fetch the nanny-goat home — sees her high up 
 on a crag — calls to her to come home, but Hairlock 
 wouldn’t. He tells his mother, who says, Go to the 
 fox, and bid him bite Hairlock.” But the fox wouldn’t 
 blunt his snout on a goat’s beard. His mother then 
 sends him to ask Greylegs the wolf to tear the fox ; 
 but he wouldn’t. To the bear, to slay Greylegs ; but 
 ^ Crane’s ‘ Italian Popular Tales,’ pp. 250-252. 
 
300 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the bear wouldn’t. To the Finn, to shoot bear ; but the 
 Finn wouldn’t. To the fir-tree, to fall on the Finn ; but 
 the fir-tree wouldn’t. To the fire, to burn fir-tree ; but 
 the fire wouldn’t. To the water, to quench fire ; but the 
 water wouldn’t. To the ox, to drink up water ; but the 
 ox wouldn’t. To the yoke, to pinch ox ; but the yoke 
 wouldn’t. To the axe, to chop yoke; but the axe 
 wouldn’t. To the smith, to hammer the axe ; but the 
 smith wouldn’t. To the rope, to hang smith ; but the 
 rope wouldn’t. To the mouse, to gnaw rope ; but the 
 mouse wouldn’t. To the cat, to catch mouse. Well,” 
 said the cat, ''just give me a drop of milk for my 
 
 kittens, and then” That’s what the cat said, and 
 
 the lad said she should have it. So the cat bit the 
 mouse, and the mouse gnawed the rope, and the rope 
 hanged the smith, and the smith hammered the axe, 
 and the axe chopped the yoke, and the yoke pinched 
 the ox, and the ox drank the water, and the water 
 quenched the fire, and the fire burned the fir-tree, 
 and the fir-tree felled the Finn, and the Finn shot the 
 bear, and the bear slew Greylegs the wolf, and Grey- 
 legs the wolf tore the fox, and the fox bit Hairlock, 
 so that she sprang home and knocked off one of her 
 hind legs against the barn wall. So there lay nanny- 
 goat, and if she’s not dead, she limps about on three 
 legs.^ 
 
 Another amusing Norse story of the same class, 
 entitled the Cock and Hen a-nutting, closely resem- 
 
 1 Abridged from the version in Dasent’s ‘ Tales from the Fjeld.’ 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 301 
 
 bles the Sexton’s Nose, already cited : Once on a 
 time the cock and the hen went into the hazel-wood 
 to pick nuts ; and the hen got a nut-shell in her throat, 
 and lay on her back, flapping her wings. Off went the 
 cock to fetch water for her ; so he came to the spring, 
 and said, '' Dear good friend spring, give me a drop of 
 water, that I may give it to Dame Partlet my mate, 
 who lies at death’s door in the hazel-wood.” But the 
 spring answered, '' You’ll get no water from me till I 
 get leaves from you.” So the cock went to the linden, 
 and said, '' Dear good friend linden, give me some of 
 your leaves ; the leaves I’ll give to the spring, and the 
 spring will give me water, to give to Dame Partlet my 
 mate, who lies at death’s door in the hazel-wood.” 
 “ You’ll get no leaves from me,” said the linden, until 
 I get a red ribbon with a golden edge from you.” So 
 the cock ran to the Virgin Mary, and said, “ Dear good 
 Virgin Mary, give me a red ribbon with a golden edge, 
 and I’ll give it to the linden, and the linden will give 
 me leaves,” etc. “ You’ll get no red ribbon from me,” 
 said the Virgin Mary, until I get shoes from you.” 
 So the cock went to the shoemaker, but he must first 
 get some bristles ; to the sow, but she must first get 
 some corn; to the thresher, but he must first get a 
 bannock; to the baker’s wife, but she must first get 
 wood ; to the wood-cutter, but he must first get an axe ; 
 to the smith, but he must first get charcoal; to the 
 charcoal-burner, who took pity on the cock, and gave 
 him a bit of charcoal, and then the smith got his coal, 
 and the wood-cutter his axe, and the baker’s wife her 
 
302 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 wood, and the thresher his bannock, and the sow her 
 corn, and the shoemaker his bristles, and the Virgin 
 Mary her shoes, and the linden its red ribbon with a 
 golden edge, and the spring its leaves, and the cock his 
 drop of water, and he gave it to Dame Partlet his 
 mate, wlfb lay there at death’s door in the hazel-wood 
 — and so she got all right again.^ 
 
 In a third Norwegian cumulative story, the Death 
 of Chanticleer, we find a very interesting analogue of 
 one that is current at the present day among the chil- 
 dren of the Panjab and Kashmir. A cock fell one 
 day into the brewing- vat of Yule ale and was drowned. 
 His wife. Dame Partlet, when she saw this, lost her 
 wits and flew about distracted, screaming and screech- 
 ing. '' What ails you ? ” said the hand-quern. Good- 
 man Chanticleer,” said the hen, “ has fallen into the ale- 
 vat and drowned himself ; that’s why I am screaming 
 and screeching, that’s why I am sobbing and sighing.” 
 ‘‘Well,” said the hand-quern, “if I can do nothing else 
 I will grind and groan ; ” so it fell to grinding as fast 
 as it could. When the chair heard this, it said, 
 “ What ails you, hand-quern, that you grind and groan 
 so much ? ” “ Why not ? ” said the hand-quern ; “ when 
 goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the cask and 
 drowned himself, and Dame Partlet sits in the ingle 
 and sobs and sighs : that’s why I grind and groan,” 
 said the hand-quern. “ If I can do naught else,” said the 
 
 ^ See Dasent’s ‘ Popular Tales from the Norse,’ p. 437 ; and Thorpe’s 
 Yule-Tide Stories’ (Bohn’s ed.), p. 333. 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 303 
 
 chair, I will crack,” and with that the chair fell to 
 creaking and cracking. When the door heard this it 
 said to the chair, “ What’s the matter with you, that 
 you creak and crack ? ” “ Why not ? ” said the chair ; 
 
 since goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the ale- vat 
 and drowned himself, and Dame Partlet sobs and 
 sighs, and the hand-quern grinds and groans : that’s 
 why I creak and crack.” “ If I can do naught else,” said 
 the door, ''I can rattle and bang, and whistle and 
 slam,” so it began to open and shut, and slam and 
 bang. When the stove heard this it began to 
 smoulder and smoke, and then the axe began to rive 
 and rend about, and the aspen began to quiver and 
 quake in all its leaves, and the birds began to pluck 
 off all their feathers ; and then the master, when he saw 
 the feathers flying about like fun, and learned from the 
 birds what had happened, he began to tear brooms 
 asunder ; and the goody, his wife, stood cooking por- 
 ridge for supper, and seeing all this, she called out, 
 '' Why, man, what are you tearing all the brooms to 
 pieces for ? ” “ Oh,” said the goodman, “ Chanticleer 
 
 has fallen into the ale-vat and been drowned, and so 
 the Dame Partlet sobs and sighs, and the hand-quern 
 grinds and groans, and the chair creaks and cracks, 
 and the door slams and bangs, and the stove 
 smoulders and smokes, and the axe rives and rends, 
 and the aspen quivers and quakes, and the birds are 
 pulling out all their feathers, so I am tearing the 
 brooms to pieces.” Then the goody began throwing 
 the porridge against the walls ; and that’s how they 
 
304 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 drank the burial-ale after goodman Chanticleer, who 
 fell into the brewing- vat and was drowned.^ 
 
 The Panjabi tale of the Death and Burial of Poor 
 Hen - Sparrow (Steel and Temple’s ‘ Wide - Awake 
 Stories ’) is clearly own brother to that of the Death of 
 Chanticleer : 
 
 In days of yore there lived a cock-sparrow and his 
 wife, who were both growing old. But the cock-sparrow 
 was a gay bird, old as he was, and cast his eyes upon 
 a lively young hen, and determined to marry her. 
 So they had a grand wedding, but the old hen went 
 out and sat disconsolately just under a crow’s nest. 
 While she was there it began to rain, and the water 
 came drip, drip on to her feathers, but she was too sad 
 to care. Now it so happened that the crow had used 
 some scraps of dyed cloth in its nest, and when they 
 got wet the colours ran and went drip, drip on the old 
 sparrow, till she was as gay as a peacock. When she 
 flew home, the new wife was dreadfully jealous of her 
 old co-wife, and asked her where she had managed 
 to get that lovely dress. “ Easily enough,” she replied ; 
 
 I just went into the dyer’s vat.” “ I’ll go too,” 
 thought the new wife ; I won’t have that old thing 
 better dressed than I am.” So she flew off to the 
 dyer’s, and went pop into the middle of the vat, but 
 it was scalding hot, and she was half dead before she 
 could manage to scramble out. Meanwhile the old 
 cock, not finding his new wife at home, flew off 
 1 Dasent’s ‘Tales from the Fjeld,’ pp. 30-34. 
 
CUMULATIVE STOEIES. 
 
 305 
 
 distracted in search of her, and wept salt tears when 
 he found her half drowned and half scalded, with her 
 feathers away, by the dyers vat. ''What has hap- 
 pened ? he asked, and she replied : 
 
 “ My CO- wife got dyed, 
 
 But I fell into the vat.” 
 
 So the cock took her up tenderly in his bill, and flew 
 away home with her. Just as he was crossing a 
 big river, the old hen-sparrow looked out of the nest, 
 and when she saw her husband bringing his bride home 
 in such a sorry plight, she burst out a-laughing and 
 said : 
 
 “ One is vexed and one is grieved, 
 
 And one laughing is carried on high.” 
 
 At this the husband was so enraged that he could 
 not hold his tongue, but shouted out, " Hush, hush ! 
 you old thing.” Of course, when he opened his 
 mouth to speak the poor draggled bride fell plump 
 into the river and was drowned.^ Whereupon the 
 cock-sparrow was so distracted with grief that he 
 pecked off all his feathers till he was as bare as a 
 ploughed field, and went and sat quite naked on a 
 jpipal-ticQQ and wept. Then the pipal-iYQQ said to 
 him, " What has happened ? ” " Don’t ask me,” said 
 the cock-sparrow. " It isn’t decent to ask questions 
 
 ^ This incident occurs in a great number of folk-tales, and its oldest 
 form is probably the ‘ Jataka,’ or Buddhist Birth-Story, of the Talk- 
 ative Tortoise, which, with other variants — such as the Indian story 
 of the Eools and the Bull of Siva, and the Eussian story of the Old 
 Man and the Cabbage-Stalk — will be found in my ‘ Book of Noodles.’ 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 U 
 
306 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 when folk are in mourning.” But the pipal-tic^Q 
 would not be satisfied, so at last, with sobs and tears, 
 the poor bereaved sparrow said : 
 
 “ One hen painted, 
 
 The other was dyed, 
 
 And the cock loved her.” 
 
 Then the pipal-tree was overwhelmed with grief too, 
 and shed all its leaves on the spot. By -and -by a 
 buffalo came, and asked the pipal-tree how it had 
 lost all its leaves, and after much entreaty it answered : 
 
 “ One hen painted, 
 
 The other was dyed. 
 
 And the cock loved her. 
 
 So the pipal shed its leaves.” 
 
 On hearing this the buffalo was grieved, and shed his 
 horns there and then. After a while the buffalo went 
 to the river to drink, and the river asked him how 
 he had lost his grand horns, so he said : 
 
 “ One hen painted. 
 
 The other was dyed. 
 
 And the cock loved her. 
 
 So the pipal shed its leaves. 
 
 And the buffalo his horns.” 
 
 Then the river wept so sore that it became quite salt. 
 By-and-by a cuckoo came to the river, and finding 
 it salt, asked the reason, and was answered : 
 
 One hen painted. 
 
 The other was dyed. 
 
 And the cock loved her, 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 307 
 
 So the 'pijpal shed its leaves, 
 
 And the buffalo his horns, 
 
 So the river became salt.” 
 
 Then the cuckoo plucked out an eye from actual 
 sorrow, and went and sat by a tradesman’s shop 
 and wept bitterly. The tradesman wanted to know 
 the cause of the bird’s grief, and learned it thus : 
 
 “ One hen painted, 
 
 The other was dyed, 
 
 And the cock loved her, 
 
 So the ^i^al shed its leaves. 
 
 And the buffalo his horns, 
 
 So the river became salt, 
 
 And the cuckoo lost an eye.” 
 
 At this sad news the tradesman wailed till he lost 
 his senses. And when the king’s servant came into 
 his shop he gave her pepper when she asked for 
 turmeric, and onion when she asked for garlic, and 
 wheat when she asked for pulse. So the maiden 
 asks what had thus distracted him, and after much 
 persuasion he told her: 
 
 One hen painted. 
 
 The other was dyed. 
 
 And the cock loved her. 
 
 So the 'pi^al shed its leaves, 
 
 And the buffalo his horns, 
 
 So the river became salt. 
 
 And the cuckoo lost an eye, 
 
 So Bhagtu went mad.” 
 
 Then the maid went into the palace, saying dreadful 
 things, because of her sorrow, and the queen asking 
 what had happened, the maid told her : 
 
308 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 “ One hen painted, 
 
 The other was dyed, 
 
 And the cock loved her, 
 
 So the pipal shed its leaves. 
 
 And the buffalo his horns. 
 
 So the river became salt. 
 
 And the cuckoo lost an eye. 
 
 So Bhagtu went mad, 
 
 And the maid took to swearing.” 
 
 Then the queen danced till out of breath, and her 
 son asked the reason: 
 
 “ One hen painted. 
 
 The other was dyed, 
 
 And the cock loved her, 
 
 So the pijoal shed its leaves. 
 
 And the buffalo his horns. 
 
 So the river became salt. 
 
 And the cuckoo lost an eye. 
 
 So Bhagtu went mad. 
 
 And the maid took to swearing. 
 
 So the queen took to dancing.” 
 
 And then the queen’s son became so deeply grieved 
 that he took his tambourine, and began to play on it, 
 when in comes the king himself and learns all about it : 
 
 One hen painted. 
 
 The other was dyed. 
 
 And the cock loved her. 
 
 So the 'pi'pal shed its leaves. 
 
 And the buffalo his horns. 
 
 So the river became salt. 
 
 And the cuckoo lost an eye. 
 
 So Bhagtu went mad, 
 
 And the maid took to swearing. 
 
 So the queen took to dancing. 
 
 And the prince took to drumming.” 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 309 
 
 When the king hears this sad story, he began to lay 
 upon the zithar : 
 
 “ One hen painted, 
 
 The other was dyed, 
 
 And the cock loved her, 
 
 So the pipal shed its leaves. 
 
 And the buffalo his horns. 
 
 So the river became salt. 
 
 And the cuckoo lost an eye. 
 
 So Bhagtu went mad, 
 
 And the maid took to swearing. 
 
 So the queen took to dancing. 
 
 And the prince took to drumming. 
 
 So the king took to thrumming.” ^ 
 
 From Madagascar we have a singular cumulative 
 story, which is well w^orth reproducing, as follows : 
 Once upon a time Ibotity went and climbed a tree ; 
 and when the wind blew hard the tree was broken, 
 whereupon Ibotity fell and broke his leg. So he said, 
 '' The tree is indeed strong, for it can break the leg of 
 Ibotity.” Then said the tree, '' I am not strong, for it 
 is the wind that is strong.” Then said Ibotity, The 
 wind it is which is strong; for the wind broke the 
 tree, and the tree broke the leg of Ibotity.” '' I am 
 not strong,” said the wind; ''for if I were strong, 
 should I be stopped by the hill ? ” "Ah, it is the hill 
 
 ^ A somewhat similar series of catastrophes are recounted in a 
 Roumanian folk-tale ; Two old folks have a mouse which, to their 
 intense sorrow, is scalded to death in boiling milk ; whereupon a 
 magpie pulled out all its feathers as a sign of its grief ; an empress 
 on hearing the news fell out of a balcony and was killed ; and the 
 emperor her husband became a monk in the cloister of Lies on 
 the other side of Truth. 
 
310 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 which is strong/' said Ibotity ; for the hill stopped 
 the wind, the wind broke the tree, the tree broke the 
 leg of Ibotity.” “ Nay, I am not strong,” said the hill ; 
 '' for if I were strong, I should not be burrowed by the 
 mice.” '‘Ah, it is the mouse which is strong,” said 
 Ibotity; "for the mouse burrowed into the hill, the 
 hill stopped the wind, the wind broke the tree, and 
 the tree broke the leg of Ibotity.” " Nay, I am not 
 strong,” said the mouse ; " for am I strong who can be 
 killed by the cat ? ” " Ah, it is the cat which is 
 
 strong,” said Ibotity; "for the cat killed the mouse, 
 the mouse burrowed into the hill, the hill stopped the 
 wind, the wind broke the tree, and the tree broke the 
 leg of Ibotity.” " Nay, I am not strong,” said the cat ; 
 "for am I strong who am caught by the rope and 
 cannot escape ? ” " Ah, it is the rope which is strong,” 
 said Ibotity, etc. " Nay, I am not strong,” said the 
 rope ; " for am I strong and am cut by the iron ? ” 
 " Then it is the iron which is strong,” said Ibotity, etc. 
 "Nay, I am not strong,” said the iron; "for am I 
 strong which am softened by the fire ? ” " Ah, it is 
 the fire which is strong,” said Ibotity, etc. “Nay, 
 I am not strong,” said the fire ; " for am I strong 
 and am put out by water ? ” " Ah, it is the water 
 
 which is strong,” said Ibotity, and so on. But it 
 would be tedious to give every detail; suffice it to 
 say that the greatest power is shifted successively 
 from the water to the canoe, from the canoe to the 
 rock, from the rock to mankind, from mankind to the 
 sorcerer, from the sorcerer to the tangdna (poison 
 
CUMULATIVE STOKIES. 
 
 311 
 
 ordeal), and from the tangSna to God ; the last and 
 complete paragraph reading thus : '' Nay, I am not 
 strong,” said the tang6na, ‘'for God overcomes me.” 
 “ Ah, it is God who is strong,” said Ibotity ; “ for God 
 overcame tang6na, tangSna killed the sorcerer, the 
 sorcerer overcame man, man broke the rock, the rock 
 broke the canoe, the canoe crossed the water, the water 
 quenched the fire, the fire softened the iron, the iron 
 cut the rope, the rope caught the cat, the cat killed 
 the mouse, the mouse burrowed into the hill, the hill 
 stopped the wind, the wind broke the tree, and the 
 tree broke the leg of Ibotity.” So Ibotity and all 
 things agreed that God is the strongest of all, and 
 governs all things in this world, whether in heaven 
 above, or on the earth beneath, or underneath the 
 earth, or to the verge of the sky; for God will bear 
 rule for ever and ever.^ 
 
 Lastly, here is a Singalese variant of our Old 
 Woman and the Crooked Sixpence, from the first 
 part of ‘The Orientalist,’ vol. ii., 1885: 
 
 Once upon a time a bird laid two eggs in a cleft 
 between two large stones. Through some movement 
 of the stones this cleft became closed up, and the bird 
 could not gain access to her nest. 
 
 So she begged a mason to split open the stones again, 
 in order that she might get to her eggs. But the man 
 would not. 
 
 1 ‘ Malagasy Folk-Tales,’ by the Rev. James Sibree, junior : ‘ Folk- 
 Lore Journal’ (1884), vol. ii. pp. 136-138. 
 
312 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 She then went to a wild boar, and asked him to 
 enter the paddy-field and eat the mason’s corn, because 
 the mason would not split open the stones, and she 
 could not get to her two eggs. But the wild boar 
 would not. 
 
 She then went to the hunter, and asked him to shoot 
 the wild boar, because the wild boar would not eat the 
 mason’s paddy; the mason would not split open the 
 stones ; and she could not get to her two eggs. But 
 the hunter would not. 
 
 She next went to the elephant, and begged him to 
 kill the hunter, because the hunter would not shoot 
 the wild boar ; the wild boar would not eat the mason’s 
 paddy ; the mason would not split open the stones ; 
 and she could not get to her two eggs. But the ele- 
 phant would not. 
 
 She then went to the katussd ('' bloodsucker ” lizard), 
 and asked it to crawl up the elephant’s trunk into his 
 brain, because the elephant would not kill the hunter ; 
 the hunter would not shoot the wild boar; the wild 
 boar would not eat the mason’s paddy ; the mason 
 would not split open the stones ; and she could not 
 get to her two eggs. But the katussd would not. 
 
 She then asked a jungle-hen to peck and kill the 
 katussd, because the katiissd would not crawl up the 
 elephant’s trunk; the elephant would not kill the 
 hunter; the hunter would not shoot the wild boar; 
 the wild boar would not eat the mason’s paddy ; the 
 mason would not split open the two stones ; and she 
 could not get to her two eggs. But the hen would not. 
 
CUMULATIVE STORIES. 
 
 313 
 
 She then went to a jackal, and begged him to eat the 
 jungle-hen, because the jungle-hen would not peck 
 the katussd ; the katussd would not crawl up the 
 elephant’s trunk ; the elephant would not kill the 
 hunter; the hunter would not shoot the wild boar; 
 the wild boar would not eat the mason’s paddy ; the 
 mason would not split open the stones ; and she could 
 not get to her two eggs. 
 
 And the jackal was too glad to eat the jungle-hen ; 
 so he immediately set off after her: and the jungle- 
 hen began to peck the katussd ; and the katussd began 
 to crawl up the elephant’s trunk ; and the elephant 
 went to attack the hunter; and the hunter took his 
 bow and arrows to shoot the wild boar ; and the wild 
 boar began to eat the mason’s paddy ; and the mason, 
 seeing the turn things had taken, split open the stones ; 
 and so the bird at last got back to her two eggs. 
 
 It is the opinion of several learned continental 
 scholars that the Hebrew mystical hymn, ''A kid, a 
 kid, my father bought,” etc., is a comparatively modern 
 interpolation in the Talmud. Be this as it may, it is 
 very probable that accumulative rhymes and stories 
 were common in the East, long before the rabbins 
 first reduced their traditionary lore to writing and 
 loaded it with their own fanciful commentaries. 
 
314 
 
 ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP: 
 
 A Second Chapter on the Thankful Beasts. 
 
 rilO most general readers the charming tale of Aladdin 
 and his Lamp, as related in our common English 
 version of the 'Arabian Nights’ — which was made, early 
 in the last century, from Galland’s selections, rendered 
 into French — is doubtless a typical Eastern fiction. 
 It does not, however, occur in any known Arabian 
 text of ' The Thousand and One Nights ’ {Elf Laila wa 
 Laila), although the chief incidents of the tale are 
 found in many Asiatic fictions, and it had become 
 orally current in Greece and Italy before it was pub- 
 lished by Galland. A popular I talian version, which 
 presents a close analogy to the familiar story of 
 Aladdin (properly ' Ala-’u-’d-Dm, signifying, " exalta- 
 tion of the Faith ”), is given by Miss M. H. Busk in 
 her 'Folk-Lore of Eome,’ under the title of "How 
 Cajusse was married,” of which the following is an 
 abstract : 
 
 A good-natured-looking old man one day knocks at 
 the door of a poor tailor out of work ; his son opens 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 315 
 
 the door, and is told by the old man that he is his 
 uncle, and he gives the lad a piastre to buy a good 
 dinner. When the tailor comes home — for he was 
 absent at the time — he is surprised to hear the old 
 man claim him as a brother ; but finding him so rich, 
 he won’t dispute the matter. After the good old man 
 had lived some time with the tailor and his family, 
 liberally defraying all household expenses, he finds it 
 necessary to depart, and, with the tailor’s consent, 
 takes the boy Cajusse with him, in order that he 
 may learn some useful business. But no sooner are 
 they outside the town than he tells Cajusse it is all 
 a dodge. “I’m not your uncle,” he says. “I want 
 a strong daring boy to do something I am too old to 
 do. I’m a wizard — don’t attempt to escape, for you 
 can’t.” Cajusse, not a bit frightened, asks him what 
 it is he wants him to do, and the wizard raises a flat 
 stone from the ground and orders him to go down, 
 and when he gets to the bottom of the cave, to pro- 
 ceed till he comes to a beautiful garden, where he will 
 see a fierce dog keeping watch — there’s bread for him. 
 “ Don’t look back when you hear sounds behind you. 
 On a shelf you’ll see an old lantern ; take it down and 
 bring it to me.” So saying, the wizard gave Cajusse 
 a ring, in case anything awkward should happen to 
 him after he had got the lantern, when he had only 
 to rub the ring and wish for deliverance. Cajusse 
 finds precious stones hanging like fruit from the trees 
 in the garden underground, and fills his pockets with 
 them. Eeturning to the entrance of the cave, he 
 
316 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 refuses to give up the lantern until he has been drawn 
 out ; so the wizard, thinking merely to frighten him, 
 replaces the stone. Cajusse, finding himself thus 
 entrapped, rubs the ring, when instantly one ” [the 
 slave of the ring] appears, and the youth orders 
 Table laid for dinner ! ” He then calls for his 
 mother and father, and they have all an unusually 
 good meal. Some time after Cajusse returned home 
 the town was illuminated one day, and he learned 
 it was because the daughter of the sultan was to be 
 married to the grand vazir’s son. He sends his mother 
 to the palace with a basket of priceless jewels as a 
 present to the sultan, and to demand his daughter in 
 marriage to her son. The sultan is astonished at the 
 beauty of the gems, and says he will give his answer 
 in a month. At the end of the same week, however, 
 the vazir’s son is married to the princess. Cajusse 
 rubs his lantern and says, Go to-night, and take the 
 daughter of the sultan and lay her on a poor pallet in 
 our outhouse.” This is done, and Cajusse, placing a 
 naked sabre in bed between himself and the princess,^ 
 begins to talk to her, but she is far too frightened to 
 answer. The same thing occurs three consecutive 
 
 ^ This incident of the naked sword, it will be remembered, occurs 
 also in the story of Aladdin ; and in one of the genuine tales of the 
 ‘Arabian Nights,’ that of Sayf el-Muluk and Badia el-Jamal, the 
 hero adopts the like “ precaution ” while he and the Princess of Hind 
 are drifting over the sea on a raft. The practice, with many other 
 chivalric observances and customs, seems to have been early brought 
 from the East to Europe, and is often employed in mediaeval romances 
 — e.g.y the Older Ed da, in the case of Sigurd and Brynhild ; in ‘ Sir 
 Tristrem’ ; and in ‘Amis and Amiloun,’ which, with the heroes’ 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDEEFUL LAMP. 
 
 317 
 
 nights, and at last the princess tells her mother how 
 she is conveyed in some mysterious way to a poor 
 hovel, and so on. The sultan learns of this from the 
 mother of the princess, and he does not know what 
 to make of such a strange business. The son of the 
 vazi'r complains to his father that his wife disappears 
 every night, and comes back just before the dawn. 
 Cajusse now sends his mother to the sultan with a 
 present of three more baskets full of jewels, and the 
 sultan tells her he may come and see him at the 
 palace. Having received this message, Cajusse rubs 
 his lantern, and gets a dress of gold and silver, a 
 richly caparisoned horse, four pages with velvet 
 dresses, to ride behind him, and one to go before, 
 distributing money among the people and crying, 
 “ Make way for the Signor Cajusse ! ” To be brief, 
 he is married to the princess (she having been duly 
 divorced, doubtless, by the vazir’s son), and they live 
 together in joy and happiness, in a most magnificent 
 palace reared and furnished by means of his all- 
 bestowing lantern. But by-and-by the old wizard 
 hears of all this, and resolves to obtain the lantern by 
 hook or by crook. So dressing himself as a pedlar, 
 
 names changed to Alexander and Ludovic, is interwoven with the 
 story of The Eavens in the old English prose version of ‘ The Seven 
 Wise Masters.’ Scott says “it was, in the middle ages, an acknow- 
 ledged and formal emblem of the strictest continence betwixt persons 
 who, from whatever cause, were placed in circumstances otherwise 
 suspicious ; ” and he cites a historical instance, on the occasion of 
 Louis, county palatine of Waldenz, acting as the Duke of Austria’s 
 proxy in marriage with the Princess of Burgundy. — See notes to 
 Scott’s edition (1819) of the Komance of Sir Tristrem, p. 345, 
 
318 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 he comes near Cajusse’s palace and bawls out, Old 
 lanterns taken in exchange for new ones ! ” Cajusse 
 is from home, unluckily, and the princess sends a 
 servant out with the lantern, for which the wizard 
 very gladly gives a bran-new one in exchange, and 
 immediately causes the palace to be transported to an 
 island in the high seas. When Cajusse returns and 
 finds what has happened, he rubs his ring (which he 
 always wore on his finger) and is conveyed to where 
 the palace now was. He sounds his horn ; the prin- 
 cess, hearing it, is delighted, goes to the window, and 
 tells Cajusse that she won’t marry the old man. He 
 gives her this advice: “Make a feast to-night; say 
 you’ll marry him if he’ll tell you what thing would 
 be fatal to him, and you will guard him against it.” 
 The princess wheedles out of the wizard the fatal 
 secret. “ One must go into a far-distant forest,” he 
 tells her, “ where there is a beast called hydra, and 
 cut off his seven heads. If the middle head is split 
 open, a leveret will jump out and run off. If the 
 leveret is caught and his head split open, a bird will 
 fly out. If the bird is caught and opened, in its body 
 is a precious stone, and should that be placed under 
 my pillow I shall die.” Cajusse accomplishes all 
 these things, and gives the life-stone to the princess, 
 together with a bottle of opium. The princess drugs 
 the magician’s wine, and when he had laid his head 
 on his pillow (under which was the stone), he gave 
 three terrible yells, turned himself round three times, 
 and was dead. After thus ridding themselves of their 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 319 
 
 enemy, the hero causes his enchanted palace to be 
 transported to where it was before, and he and his beau- 
 tiful princess passed their days in joy and happiness.^ 
 
 Aladdin’s adventure with the African magician at 
 the enchanted cave has its parallel also in the Mek- 
 lenburg tale of the Blue Light (Grimm’s German 
 collection) : A soldier, discharged from service and 
 journeying homeward, obtains shelter one night in the 
 hut of an old woman, who proves to be a witch, and 
 compels him to dig her garden and chop a cart-load of 
 wood for his two-days’ lodging. On the third day she 
 exacts from him a solemn promise to get her the blue 
 light which burned at the bottom of a well. She lets 
 him down with a long rope, and having found the blue 
 light, he makes a signal to be drawn up. When the 
 witch had pulled him up near enough to be within her 
 reach, Give me the light,” she says, and I will take 
 care of it ; ” but the soldier suspected treachery on the 
 part of his hostess, and so he answered that he would 
 not give her the light till she had drawn him quite 
 out of the well. At this the old witch flew into a 
 rage, and let him drop again to the bottom. There 
 the poor fellow lay for a while in utter despair, till at 
 
 1 It does not seem very likely that this Roman popular version of 
 our nursery favourite was derived from any written source, since 
 Miss Busk states that the old woman who told it to her was almost 
 quite illiterate ; moreover, the life of the magician being represented 
 as depending upon a precious stone, to obtain which the hydra and 
 other creatures within it have to be killed, is sufficient evidence of 
 the oral transmission of the tale. — See Note at the end of this paper : 
 “Life depending on some Extraneous Object.” 
 
320 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 length recollecting that his pipe happened to be in his 
 pocket, and half full of tobacco, he thought he might 
 as well smoke it out ; so he lit it, and began to puff 
 away. All of a sudden a black dwarf appeared before 
 him ; he had a hump on his back and a feather in his 
 cap. What do you want of me, soldier ? ” said he. 
 
 Nothing at all,” replied the soldier. ‘‘ I am bound 
 to serve you in everything,” quoth the dwarf, '' as lord 
 and master of the blue light.” So the soldier first 
 desired to be taken out of the well, which being done, 
 he next ordered that the old witch should take his 
 place in the well — and there she may be still; who 
 knows ? He then plundered the house of the wicked 
 crone, and took away as much gold and silver as he 
 could carry. The dwarf, before “ taking himself off,” 
 tells him that if at any time he should want his ser- 
 vices, he has only to light his pipe at the blue light, 
 and he will instantly appear before him, ready to obey 
 any commands. After a variety of adventures, the 
 soldier marries the king’s daughter.^ 
 
 Most of the other versions, European as well as 
 Asiatic , may be considered as belonging to the thank- 
 ful Beasts cycle of popular fictions — a circumstance 
 which would seem to indicate that the tale is of Bud- 
 ding origin. The following is the substance of a 
 
 1 Mr Taylor, the translator of a selection of Grimm’s Fairy Tales 
 (Bohn’s edition), says that this is also found in a collection of Hun- 
 garian stories, by Georg von Gaal, under the title of “ The Wonderful 
 Tobacco Pipe.” 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDEKFUL LAMP. 
 
 321 
 
 Bohemian variant, given in M. Leger’s collection of 
 Slav Tales, No. 15 : 
 
 There was once a rich man, who had three sons, 
 the eldest of whom he sent away to go the round of 
 the world; and after an absence of three years he 
 returned home superbly dressed, and a great feast 
 was held in his honour. The same happened to the 
 second son. But as for the youngest, who was called 
 Jenik (or Johnny), he was despised as being weak- 
 minded ; for he did nothing but soil himself with the 
 ashes of the stove.^ Yet, seeing the success of his 
 brothers, he, too, wished to go away and seek his 
 fortune in the wide, wide world. “ You go, noodle ! ” 
 exclaimed his father. "‘What will you pick up on 
 the way, I wonder?” Jenik persists, however, and at last 
 is allowed to go — indeed they were all so glad to get 
 rid of him that they actually gave him some money. 
 In the course of his wanderings Jenik meets in 
 succession crowds of people who were going to kill 
 a dog, a cat, and a serpent. He intercedes for them, 
 gets them as presents, and they follow him in single file : 
 Johnny, dog, cat, and serpent. By-and-by the serpent 
 says to him, '' Come with me. In the autumn we 
 serpents hide in our holes, and my king will be angry 
 
 ^ In fairy tales there are commonly three brothers, the youngest 
 of whom (“Boots,” as Dr Dasent aptly styles him in his Norse 
 Tales) is invariably believed by the family to be a mere idiot, good 
 for nothing but raking among the ashes — Cinderella is his female 
 counterpart. Yet for him alone has Dame Fortune reserved her 
 favours : he accomplishes tasks which his brothers have attempted 
 in vain, and generally comes home with incalculable wealth, and a 
 beautiful princess for his bride. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 X 
 
322 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 at my delay; but I’ll tell him of the danger I was 
 in when you rescued me. So do you ask for your 
 reward the watch which hangs on the wall: by 
 rubbing it you may have whatever you want.” 
 Jenik accompanies the serpent, and gets the en- 
 chanted watch.^ He rubs it, and a sumptuous meal 
 is before him in the twinkling of an eye. By the 
 same means he gets a supper and a bed in the evening. 
 Next day he returns home, expecting a feast from his 
 father, but instead of this he is abused for coming 
 back in rags. So Jenik takes once more to his 
 favourite amusement of grubbing in the ashes. On 
 the third day he has grown weary, and goes out. He 
 rubs the magic watch, and gets a three-storey house, 
 fine furniture, silver plate, and so forth. He invites 
 his father, and relatives, and friends to a grand 
 banquet. After the first course, he desires his father 
 to go and fetch the king and his daughter, and for 
 this purpose provides him with a coach-and-six. But 
 the father will not enter so royal a carriage ; he goes 
 on foot, and invites the king and his daughter. Jenik, 
 by means of his magic watch, has the road laid for 
 six miles with polished marble, and a new house 
 instantly erected, four storeys high, furnished finer 
 than any royal palace. The king gives his daughter 
 in marriage to Jenik, and there is a splendid wedding. 
 But the princess does not love Jenik, and having 
 wormed out of him the secret cause of his wealth, 
 
 1 ‘^Montre Enchantee,” according to Leger — a local modification, 
 doubtless, of the talisman of Eastern fairy tales. 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 323 
 
 she steals the magic watch, rubs it, and off she goes 
 in a coach - and - six to her father’s, where, having 
 provided herself with a number of servants, she 
 then proceeds to the sea-shore. By the power of 
 the watch she has a palace erected in the middle 
 of the sea, connected with the land by a bridge, over 
 which having passed into her palace, she causes 
 it to disappear. 
 
 Meanwhile poor Jenik is mocked by everybody and 
 without friends, excepting the cat and the dog whose 
 lives he had saved, and with them for his companions 
 he goes away — far, very far, on and on, through great 
 deserts, till one day he sees two crows fly to a moun- 
 tain, and a third comes up to him. So Jenik asks this 
 crow why he is so late, since winter has come on ; and 
 the crow tells him that he flew over a palace in the 
 sea, so beautiful that he could not but linger and 
 admire it. Jenik then goes to the sea-shore and 
 discovers the palace, which he knows to be that of the 
 faithless princess. Bog,” says he, '' you can swim ; 
 Puss, you are nimble — sit on doggie’s head, and he’ll 
 carry you to that great house in the middle of the sea. 
 Conceal thyself near the gate, and get secretly into 
 the bedroom of the princess, and take away my 
 watch.” So the dog carries the cat through the sea 
 to the palace, and when the princess saw the cat, 
 she at once suspected what her business was, so she 
 put the watch in a box in the cellar. But the cat 
 gnaws a hole in the box, seizes the watch in her 
 mouth, and waits the coming of the princess to see 
 
324 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 that all is safe. At last the door opens — crack ! away 
 puss bolts with the precious watch. When the cat 
 seats herself on the dog’s head to return to Jenik, she 
 says to him, '' Be careful not to speak to me during 
 the passage.” The dog keeps silent till near the shore, 
 when he can’t help asking, '' Have you the watch ? ” 
 The cat says nothing, afraid of dropping the watch. 
 When they come to a rock, the dog asks again, 
 '' Have you the watch ? ” Yes,” says the cat, and so 
 the watch falls into the sea.^ Upon this follow 
 mutual recriminations. Presently the cat grabs a 
 passing fish, and is going to kill him, when he exclaims 
 piteously, ''I have nine children — spare the life of 
 the father of a family ! ” Says the cat, '' So be it ; 
 but you must get us our watch,” which the fish does, 
 and is then allowed to go away. When Jenik gets 
 back his wonder-working watch, he rubs it, and lo ! 
 the wicked princess and her fine palace disappear 
 beneath the waves ; then he returns home, and he, 
 and his dog, and his cat lived happily together the 
 rest of their days. 
 
 In the 9th of M. Dozon’s ' Contes Albanais,’ the 
 hero, having saved a serpent’s life, is rewarded with a 
 marvellous stone, which he rubs accidentally, like 
 Aladdin with the ring and the lamp, when a black 
 man appears, ready and able to do whatever the 
 
 1 From the same cause was poor Hen-Sparrow drowned — see ante, 
 p. 305. Truly saith the Preacher, “ There is a time to keep silence, 
 and a time to speak.” 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDEEFUL LAMP. 
 
 325 
 
 possessor of the talisman should desire or command. 
 He immediately erects a magnificent palace, and the 
 hero marries the king’s daughter, of course. On the 
 wedding -night, a who was among the guests, 
 
 secretes himself in a closet, and, while the happy 
 pair are sound asleep, steals the wonder-stone, with 
 which he summons the black man, whom he com- 
 mands to take the hero and lay him at the king’s gate, 
 and then convey the palace with the princess and all 
 else in it to the sea-shore. In the morning the hero 
 is discovered by the king’s guards and thrown into 
 prison. One day he happened to look out, and saw a 
 man with a cat, which he bought, and fed with part 
 of his own victuals till it grew to a great size, and 
 burrowed a passage under the prison walls, by which 
 the hero and his four-footed friend made good their 
 escape. Arrived at the spot to which the Jew had 
 caused the palace to be removed, the cat threatens to 
 destroy a colony of mice unless they procure the 
 talisman. One of their number is selected for the 
 task. The Jew slept every night with the gem in his 
 mouth, so the mouse tickles his nose with her tail, 
 which causes the Jew to sneeze violently, and so the 
 talisman falls out of his mouth.^ 
 
 But more closely resembling the E ohern ian version 
 is a popular Gregk tale in Hahn’s collection : A poor 
 boy saves the life of a snake which some other boys 
 
 ^ Cf. “ Three years without wages,” in Dasent’s ‘ Tales from the 
 Fjeld,’ where the animals are a puppy, a kitten, and a lizard. 
 
326 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 were bent upon killing. The snake, in requital of 
 the lad's kindness, induces his father to give him a 
 seal-ring. '‘If thou art in need of anything,” says 
 the old snake, " lick this seal, and a black man will 
 appear. Command him to do whatever thou wilt, 
 and he will perform it.” The lad goes home and bids 
 his mother look into the cupboard. He licks the ring, 
 and sure enough a black man appears, is ordered to 
 fill the cupboard with eatables, and when the old 
 woman opens it, there they are. The mother and 
 her son live on in this way for some time, until one 
 day the lad says to her, " Go to the king and tell him 
 he must give me his daughter in marriage.” She 
 naturally objects, but, as her son insists, at length 
 goes to the king and delivers her message. The king 
 laughs, and says, " If he is able to build a castle larger 
 than mine, he shall have my daughter in marriage.” 
 The same night the lad licks the seal, and commands 
 the black man to build the castle, and in a moment 
 he finds himself in a castle far bigger and handsomer 
 than the king's. Next morning the mother is sent 
 again to require the king’s performance of his promise. 
 But the king says, " If he is able to pave the way from 
 his castle to mine with gold, then he shall have my 
 daughter.” When the lad hears of this new condition, 
 he once more summons the black man, who does what 
 is required of him, and on the following morning the 
 old woman announces to the king that the way from 
 his castle to that of her son is now paved with gold. 
 So the king at last consents to the marriage. All the 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 327 
 
 princess requires of her father is a black man for her 
 servant, and she is supplied with one. After the 
 marriage the widow’s son and the princess lived 
 happily together, until he told her the secret of the 
 ring, when she stole it from him while he was fast 
 asleep, and ran off with the black man to an island on 
 the sea. There, by the power of the ring, she has a 
 castle built, in which she lives with her sable par- 
 amour. When the widow’s son learns of his misfor- 
 tune he is distracted with grief ; but his cat tells him 
 she will recover the ring if he will allow his dog to 
 be her companion, to which he consents very willingly, 
 as may be supposed. So the cat gets on the dog’s 
 back, and the dog swims with her over the sea to the 
 castle of the princess. It appears the black man 
 keeps the ring in his mouth, under his tongue. In 
 spite of this, the cat obtains the ring, and after some 
 adventures on the way back, restores it to her master, 
 who immediately licks it, and at his command the 
 castle is removed from the island to where he stands. 
 He then kills the sable paramour, and lives thence- 
 forth happily and contentedly with his princess. 
 
 We find the same fundamental outline, though with 
 incidents from other folk-tales introduced, in a Danish 
 member of the Aladdin cycle : A poor peasant, named 
 Hans, who had one son and three daughters (triplets), 
 received from an old man one day a wishing-box, on 
 condition that he gets his three daughters when they 
 are three years of age. Hans has a fine mansion built 
 
328 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 by the power of his magic box, gets coaches, horses, 
 and servants galore, and lives in great style. At the 
 end of three years the three little girls are taken away, 
 no one knows where or by whom, in a grand carriage. 
 The mother is inconsolable, and ere long dies of grief, 
 and soon after her husband dies also. Hans is the 
 heir of all their wealth and grandeur. But the stewards 
 and servants rob him right and left, and in two years’ 
 time the king’s bailiff comes and seizes everything, 
 and poor Hans is turned adrift. He takes with him 
 an old sheepskin cloak, which he thought suitable to 
 his altered fortunes, and discovers in one of the pockets 
 the very wishing-box that had, unknown to him, made 
 his father a rich gentleman. Presently a great black 
 fellow appears before him, and desires to know his 
 commands. Hans wishes to have a fiddle, which when 
 played upon causes everybody to dance. He then 
 enters the service of a king as shepherd. The king’s 
 daughter is charmed by the music of the magic fiddle, 
 and jestingly gives him her written promise that she 
 would marry him. When Hans claims the hand of 
 the princess, she laughs at him, and says it was all a 
 joke. But the king insists upon her keeping her word 
 — a written promise, too — and so they are married. 
 Hans, by means of his wishing-box, gets a gold chariot 
 with six horses, and a castle some two miles distant, 
 where he and his royal bride live together for a time. 
 But the princess is discontented, keeps her own apart- 
 ments, and seldom speaks to her husband. So Hans 
 goes out shooting every day, always carrying the 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 329 
 
 wishing-box with him. By-and-by a young cavalier 
 comes to the castle, and finds favour in the eyes of the 
 princess. He is greatly puzzled at what he sees : 
 riches and splendour reigned throughout the house ; 
 no stint in anything; and yet there was no visible 
 source of income. He talks this over with the prin- 
 cess, but she couldn’t account for it. So he advises 
 her to worm out of her husband the secret of his 
 wealth. This she does by assuming an affectionate 
 demeanour towards him, and when she learns of the 
 wishing-box, she persuades him to leave it in her care 
 when he goes out shooting, lest he should lose such a 
 precious treasure. Next morning the princess took 
 leave of him very lovingly, and wanted to know when 
 he would be coming home, as she would come and 
 meet him. But no sooner was Hans gone than she 
 sent for the young cavalier, showed him the box, and 
 related to him all she had learned about its wonderful 
 properties. They soon decided what to do. The 
 cavalier took the box and tapped it, and out sprang 
 the black man, saying, '' What are my new lord’s com- 
 mands to-day ? ” ''I command you to take this castle 
 
 just as it stands and hang it by four golden chains in 
 mid-air over the Bed Sea.” No sooner said than done. 
 And of all the splendour and grandeur not a trace was 
 left, as poor Hans found on his return in the evening. 
 So he begins to wander about anywhere, and he sees a 
 young woman washing linen, and speaks to her. She 
 turns out to be one of his sisters, who is married to a 
 man who is in the form of a bear all day, but for six 
 
330 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 hours of the night he is a man. Going farther, he 
 finds a second of the sisters, who is married to a prince 
 transformed into an eagle; and still farther, he dis- 
 covers his third sister, who is married to a prince 
 enchanted into the form of a huge fish. By the help 
 of his brothers-in-law Hans gets back his box, causes 
 the black man to destroy the princess and her par- 
 amour the young cavalier, and then to transport the 
 castle to where it stood before. Finally, his enchanted 
 brothers-in-law are restored to their human forms, and 
 they all lived happily ever after.^ 
 
 Although Galland’s tale of Aladdin and his Lamp is 
 not found in any Ai^i^ic text of ‘ The Thousand and One 
 Nights,’ yet a most interesting variant of it occurs in 
 an inedited MS. text of that fascinating story-book, 
 which was brought from the East — from Constantin- 
 ople, it is believed — by Mr Wortley Montague, and is 
 now in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. This story has 
 been translated as follows, by Dr Jonathan Scott, in 
 the sixth volume of his edition of the ‘ Arabian Nights,’ 
 published in 1811 : 
 
 A fisherman’s son having in company with his father 
 caught a large fish, the latter proposed to present it to 
 the sultan, in hopes of receiving a great reward. While 
 he was gone home to fetch a basket, the son, moved 
 by compassion, returned the fish into the water, and, 
 
 1 Abridged from Miss Jane Mulley’s translation of the story from 
 ‘ Danske Folkeaventyr,” etc., by Professor Grundtyig, in the ‘ Folk- 
 Lore Kecord,’ vol. iii. part 2, pp. 203-213. 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 331 
 
 fearful of his father’s anger, fled from his country and 
 repaired to a distant city, where he was entertained by 
 a person as a servant. Strolling one day in the market, 
 he saw a Jew purchase of a lad a cock at a very high 
 price, and send it by a slave to his wife, with orders 
 to keep it safely till his return home. The flsherman’s 
 son, supposing that as the Jew gave so great a price 
 for the cock it must possess some extraordinary 
 property, resolved to obtain it ; and, accordingly, having 
 bought two large fowls, carried them to the Jew’s wife, 
 whom he informed that her husband had sent him for 
 the cock, which he had exchanged for the fowls. ^ She 
 gave it him, and he, having retired, killed the bird, in 
 whose entrails he found a magic ring, which being 
 rubbed by his touch, a voice proceeded from it de- 
 manding what were the commands of its possessor, 
 which should be immediately executed by the genii 
 who were servants of the ring. 
 
 The flsherman’s son was rejoiced at his good fortune, 
 and while meditating what use he should make of his 
 ring, passed by the sultan’s palace, at the gates of 
 which were suspended many human heads. He in- 
 
 ^ This recalls a diverting Italian story, related in Leigh Hunt’s 
 ‘ Indicator,’ of two rogues in Bologna, who having seen an old doctor 
 of laws purchase a silver goblet and take it home, resolved to obtain 
 possession of it for themselves. With this object they buy a fine 
 lamprey, and one of them goes with it to the doctor’s house, after 
 they had observed him go out, and tells his good lady that he had 
 been sent with it by the doctor, as he had invited some friends to 
 dinner, and that she was to give the bearer his new silver goblet, in 
 order to have his arms engraved on it. The rogues having got the cup, 
 by another plausible story get back the lamprey — and the tale shook 
 the shoulders in Bologna for many months after. 
 
332 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 quired the reason, and was informed that they were 
 those of unfortunate princes, who, having failed to 
 perform the conditions on which the sultan’s daughter 
 was offered them in marriage, had been put to death. 
 Hoping to be more fortunate than they by the aid of 
 his ring, he resolved to demand the princess’ hand. 
 He rubbed the ring ; the voice asked his commands ; 
 upon which he required a rich dress, and it was in- 
 stantly laid before him. He put it on, repaired to the 
 palace, and being introduced to the sultan, demanded 
 his daughter to wife. The sultan consented, on con- 
 dition that his life should be forfeited unless he 
 should remove a lofty and extensive mound of sand 
 that lay on one side of the palace, which must be done 
 before he could wed the princess. He accepted the 
 condition, but required an interval of forty days to 
 perform the task. This being agreed to, he took his 
 leave, and having repaired to his lodging, rubbed the 
 ring, commanded the genii to remove the mound, and 
 erect on the space it covered a magnificent palace, and 
 to furnish it suitably for a royal residence. In fifteen 
 days the task was completed ; he was wedded to the 
 princess, and declared heir to the sultan. 
 
 In the meanwhile the Jew, whom he had tricked of 
 the cock and the magic ring, resolved to travel in 
 search of his lost treasure, and at last arrived at the 
 city, where he was informed of the wonderful removal 
 of the mound and the erection of the palace. He 
 guessed that it must have been done by means of 
 the ring, to recover which he planned the following 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 333 
 
 stratagem : Having disguised himself as a merchant, 
 he repaired to the palace and cried for sale valuable 
 jewels. The princess, hearing him, sent an attendant 
 to examine them and inquire their price, when the Jew 
 asked in exchange only old rings. This being told to 
 the princess, she recollected that her husband kept an 
 old shabby-looking ring in his writing-stand, and, he 
 being asleep, she took it out and sent it to the Jew, 
 who, knowing it to be the one he had so long sought 
 for, eagerly gave for it all the jewels in his basket.^ 
 He retired with his prize, and having rubbed the 
 ring, commanded the genii to convey the palace 
 and all its inhabitants, excepting the fisherman’s 
 son, into a distant desert island, which was done 
 instantly. 
 
 The fisherman’s son, on awaking in the morning, 
 found himself lying on the mound of sand, which had 
 reoccupied its old spot. He arose, and in alarm lest 
 the sultan should put him to death in revenge for 
 the loss of his daughter, fied to another kingdom as 
 
 ^ This familiar Aladdin-incident reappears in an Italian story, cited 
 by Mr H. C. Coote, in ‘Folk-Lore Record,’ vol. hi. part 2, p. 189 : 
 A princess, after agreeing to surrender her young daughter to a magi- 
 cian, regrets her promise and shuts her up in the palace, not permit- 
 ting her ever to go out. The magician, thus baffled, has recourse to 
 the following expedient — to use the words of the tale itself : “ The 
 magician was not a magician for nothing. He pretended to be a 
 hawker, and went through the streets crying out, ‘Women, women, 
 who will exchange rings of iron for rings of silver ? ’ The princess’ 
 maids all ran down-stairs. The magician profited by the opportunity, 
 carried off the young princess, and took her away to an enchanted 
 palace.” — “ La Fanciulla e il Mago” : De Gubernatis’ collection, ‘ Novel- 
 line di Santo Stefano di “ Calcenaia,” ’ p. 47. 
 
334 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 quickly as possible. Here he endured a disconsolate 
 life, subsisting on the sale of some jewels which 
 he happened to have upon his dress at his flight. 
 Wandering one day through a town, a man offered 
 him for sale a dog, a cat, and a rat, which he pur- 
 chased and kept, diverting his melancholy with their 
 tricks and uncommon playfulness together. These 
 seeming animals proved to be magicians, who, in 
 return for his kindness, agreed to recover for their 
 master his lost prize, and informed him of their in- 
 tention. He warmly thanked them, and they all set 
 out in search of the palace, the ring, and the princess. 
 At length they reached the shore of the ocean, after 
 much travel, and descried the island on which the 
 palace stood, when the dog swam over, carrying on 
 his back the cat and the rat. Being landed, they 
 proceeded to the palace, when the rat entered, and 
 perceived the Jew asleep upon a sofa, with the ring 
 laid before him, which he seized in his mouth and 
 then returned to his companions. They began to 
 cross the sea as before ; but when about half-way over, 
 the dog expressed a wish to carry the ring in his 
 mouth. The rat refused, lest he should drop it ; but 
 the dog threatened, unless he would give it to him, to 
 dive and drown them both in the sea. The rat, 
 alarmed for his life, complied with his demand; but 
 the dog missed his aim in snatching at the ring, which 
 fell into the ocean. They landed, and informed the 
 fisherman’s son of his loss ; upon which he, in despair, 
 would have drowned himself, when suddenly a great 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 335 
 
 fish, with the ring in his mouth, swam close to shore, 
 and having dropped it within reach of the desperate 
 youth, miraculously exclaimed, '' I am the fish which 
 you released from captivity, and thus reward you for 
 your generosity.” The fisherman’s son, overjoyed, re- 
 turned to his father-in-law’s capital, and at night, 
 rubbing the ring, commanded the genii to convey 
 the palace to its old site. This being done in an 
 instant, he entered the palace and seized the Jew, 
 whom he caused to be cast alive into a burning pile, 
 in which he was consumed. From this period he 
 lived happily with his princess, and on the death of 
 the sultan succeeded to his dominions. 
 
 It will be observed that this Turc^-Arabian form 
 of the story comprises some elements of Galland’s 
 version and also of those in which grateful animals 
 recover the stolen talisman. Through the Ottomans 
 the story seems to have spread into Greece and Al- 
 bania, while it was probably brought to FTorthern 
 Europe by the Mongolians, since it forms one of the 
 Eelations of Siddhi Kiir: 
 
 A youth sets out on a trading expedition with three 
 bales of merchandise, which he parts with to save a 
 mouse, a young ape, and a young bear from being 
 tortured by parties of boys. These animals hence- 
 forward become his attached friends, and one of them 
 procures for him a talisman, or wishing-stone, from 
 the bottom of a river, where he had seen it glittering. 
 The youth wishes that, by virtue of the talisman, he 
 
336 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 might find in the morning a flourishing city in the 
 plain where he had pitched his tent, and in the midst 
 of the city a shining palace, with plenty of horses, 
 food, and all good things. When he awakes, he finds 
 everything that he had wished for, and lives there for 
 a time very happily, until a caravan of merchants 
 come to the district. The leader of the merchants 
 expressed his astonishment at seeing a city and a 
 palace where last year was nothing but a desert, 
 when the youth explained all to him, and showed 
 him the talisman, by means of which these wonders 
 had been performed. Perceiving the guileless nature 
 of the youth, the chief of the caravan offered him all 
 his own and his fellow-merchants’ goods, money, and 
 jewels, in exchange for the talisman, which he ac- 
 cepted, and behold ! next morning the city, and the 
 palace, and all therein had vanished, and the youth 
 finds himself lying on a barren island. His four- 
 footed companions recover the talisman in this wise : 
 Having ascertained where the merchants were resid- 
 ing, they proceed thither. The mouse creeps through 
 the keyhole into the room where the chief of the 
 merchants is asleep, and finds the talisman guarded 
 by two fierce cats, chained close to it. He returns 
 and relates this to his companions, and, acting on 
 the advice of the ape, goes in again, and gnaws the 
 sleeper’s hair, wdiich annoyed him so much that he 
 causes the cats to be chained to his pillow the next 
 night, thus leaving the talisman unguarded ; and, 
 aided by the ape outside, the mouse contrives to drag 
 
Aladdin’s wondeeful lamp. 
 
 337 
 
 it through the keyhole and restore it to the despair- 
 ing youth. 
 
 We have thus traced the tale of Aladdin and his 
 Wonderful Lamp through several European versions to 
 a Mongolian form ; but it has not, I think, been hitherto 
 pointed out that a very similar fiction is also current 
 in Southern India . This I am now enabled to do, 
 through the courtesy of my friend Pandit S. M. Nat&a 
 Sastri, of the Government Archaeological Survey, Ma- 
 dras, who has favoured me with an early copy of his 
 translation of the Tamil romance, ‘ Madana Kamaraja 
 Kadai,’ from the second story of which I present the 
 following abstract : 
 
 Alakesa, king of Alakapuri, dying prematurely, 
 left behind him a young son and a very good wife, 
 with whom he had lived happily. The king’s younger 
 brother acted as regent during the minority of his 
 little nephew ; but after a time, fired by ambition, 
 he turned the young prince and his mother adrift. 
 The ex-queen goes to her father’s house and obtains a 
 hundred pagodas, which she gives to her son, telling 
 him to lay the money out in some sort of goods for sale, 
 and thus make his own livelihood. The youth sets off, 
 and meets a farmer with a cat and her kittens in a 
 gunny-bag, which he means to get rid of, as they 
 were a nuisance. Inquiring the price of the kittens, 
 he is told by the unprincipled husbandman, perceiving 
 his simplicity, that he wants 500 pagodas; but when 
 the youth says that he has only 100, he lets him have 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Y 
 
338 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 one kitten for the money, as a great bargain.’’ The 
 lad returns home, and shows his purchase to his 
 mother, who is vexed at his stupidity, but goes back 
 to her father and gets another 100 pagodas, which she 
 gives her son, cautioning him to be more careful this 
 time. He goes away once more, and meets with a 
 snake - charmer carrying two baskets full of snakes 
 suspended at the ends of a long bamboo rod across 
 his shoulders. Among these snakes was the son of 
 Adisesha, the king of the serpents, who had left his 
 palace in the lower regions and come to see the world, 
 and had been captured by the snake-charmer. The 
 simple-minded lad purchases the snake-prince with his 
 second 100 pagodas, and his mother is deeply grieved 
 to find how he has again thrown away his money. 
 After this he goes about begging from door to door, 
 sharing his food with the cat and the serpent, until 
 his mother bids him get rid of the serpent, as it is the 
 enemy of mankind. So he takes the serpent into 
 a wood, and explains to him that he must abandon 
 him in obedience to his mother’s order. The snake 
 invites his benefactor to his father’s palace, and Adi- 
 sesha, the king of the snakes, gives him a ring, which 
 he has only to put on his finger, and extolling Para- 
 mesvara, think of what he wants, and it will be 
 instantly before him. 
 
 Highly delighted with his treasure, the young prince 
 went into a thick jungle, and thinking of the deity 
 Paramesvara, the supreme lord of the world, he ex- 
 claimed, '^May this forest to a distance of 500 hds 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDEEFUL LAMP. 
 
 339 
 
 round about me, with all things in it, excepting 
 myself, be burnt to ashes ! May those people who 
 protected me during my misfortunes come here and be 
 my subjects ! May there rise here dwellings to accom- 
 modate them with their families ! May they have 
 fields, gardens, pleasure -villas, and everything that 
 they had in their own towns ! May broad rivers run 
 throughout the year in this country ! May my mother 
 and cat join me here ! May I have a palace for my 
 own use, a minister, a commander, and every other 
 officer of a royal household ! And may this kingdom 
 be known as Mshadadesa I ” No sooner had he 
 uttered these words than the whole forest was burnt 
 down with everything therein, except himself. The 
 people who protected him, his mother, and his cat 
 appeared before him. Palaces, mansions, pleasure- 
 villas, temples, tanks, and all other requisites sprang 
 up. Eivers began to flow through the land. And 
 thus, by the power of the ring which he obtained from 
 Adisesha, in a moment a thick jungle was converted 
 into a populous country. Those who, taking pity on 
 the prince, had formerly supplied him with food, were 
 now very glad to become his subjects, and he was 
 equally pleased to be their sovereign. His mother, 
 who had been so much grieved at his stupidity in 
 having bought a snake for 100 pagodas, now thanked 
 the gods for his good fortune. 
 
 One moonlight night, after some years of peace and 
 plenty and prosperity, the prince, who was now in the 
 prime of youthful manhood, was lying awake, and 
 
340 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 thought by the power of his ring as to whom Parame- 
 svara designed for his consort. Closing his eyes for 
 an instant in deep contemplation, he found that at 
 a distance of 500 hds from his city there was another 
 called Svarnapun', ruled over by a king named 
 Svarnfea, and that his daughter was destined to be 
 his queen-consort. So he said, ‘‘ May that princess be 
 lifted with her couch, without disturbing her slumber, 
 and brought here immediately ! ” And lo ! the couch 
 descended and the princess was before him. The 
 prince touched her gently, and she opened her eyes, 
 and discovered that she had been mysteriously trans- 
 ported from her own chamber into another country. 
 She was very prudent as well as intelligent, so she 
 said to the prince that she was convinced she was 
 destined for his wife, and begged him to defer their 
 nuptials for a few days, in order that she should com- 
 municate the matter to her father. Then kissing her 
 future lord, she stood before him respectfully, as if 
 waiting his orders. The prince, highly gratified with 
 the prudent advice of the young lady, sent her back 
 on her couch to her own chamber in her native country 
 by the power of his ring. Next day the prince de- 
 spatched ambassadors to Svarnapun', requesting the 
 hand of his daughter in marriage, and after all pre- 
 liminaries had been properly arranged, the nuptials 
 were celebrated with unexampled splendour. 
 
 Now the princess was very fond of sea-bathing, so 
 she desired her lord to construct an underground pass- 
 age from her bed-chamber to the sea-shore, which was 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 341 
 
 at once accomplished by the power of the ring, and 
 the princess always used this secret passage when she 
 went to take her bath. One morning after she had 
 bathed a hair fell from her head, and, collecting itself 
 into a ball by the dashing of the waves, was lying on 
 the shore. The king of Kochchi Cochin] chanced 
 to ride past, and perceived the hair-ball. He took it 
 up and examined it, and unrolling it found it to con- 
 sist of a single hair ten hhdgams'^ long. By his know- 
 ledge of the art of discovering the beauty and nature 
 of human beings from anything belonging to them, 
 the king of Kochchi at once concluded that the 
 woman from whose head the hair had fallen must be 
 a paragon of beauty, and he resolved to obtain her as 
 his wife.^ He offered a great reward to any person 
 who should accomplish his desire. An old double- 
 
 ^ A hhdga is equal to two yards. 
 
 2 An analogous incident is related in No. 4 of the Rev. Lai Bahari 
 Day’s ‘ Folk-Tales of Bengal ’ : “ The first day they went to bathe, 
 one of [Princess] Keshavati’s hairs came off, and as it is the custom 
 with women never to throw away a hair unaccompanied with some- 
 thing else, she tied the hair to a shell which was floating on the 
 water, after which they returned home. In the meantime the shell 
 with the hair tied to it floated down the stream, and in course of 
 time reached the ghat [or bathing- place] at which Sahasra Dal and 
 his companions were in the habit of performing their ablutions. 
 The shell passed by when Sahasra Dal and his friends were bathing ; 
 and he seeing it at some distance said to them, ‘ Whoever succeeds in 
 catching hold of yonder shell shall be rewarded with a hundred 
 rupees.’ They all swam towards it, and Sahasra Dal, being the 
 fleetest swimmer, got it. On examining it he found a hair tied to 
 it. But such a hair ! It was exactly seven cubits long. ‘ The 
 owner of this hair must be a remarkable woman, and I must see 
 her,’ said Sahasra Dal, and he went home from the river in pensive 
 mood.” 
 
342 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND PICTIONS. 
 
 bent woman undertook the task, and ascertaining the 
 place where the hair was discovered, she proceeded 
 thither. Collecting some pieces of wood, she heaped 
 them in a pile, and setting fire to it, sat down and 
 began to weep. The queen of Mshada came, as was 
 her custom, for her morning bath. Hearing a woman 
 crying, she was greatly affected, and looking about 
 her, perceived the old trot mourning over the funeral 
 pile, and ran to console her. The old woman, when 
 the beautiful princess drew near, threw her arms 
 round her neck and exclaimed, ''My daughter, you 
 left me in my old age but a few hours ago for the 
 other world. I am astonished to see that you have 
 returned again ! ’’ These words, of course, excited the 
 queen’s pity, and thinking that the poor woman had 
 lost a daughter of her age and had mistaken her for 
 that daughter, she consoled her with appropriate 
 words. The queen then inquired into hef history. 
 " I had an only daughter,” replied the old woman ; 
 " and as we were going to a neighbouring village she 
 suddenly died, and hence my sorrow.” So the queen 
 took her to the palace, and caused a room to be pre- 
 pared for her use. The old hag pretended to be de- 
 voted to the queen and all the other female members 
 of the palace ; and even Mshadesa liked her, and be- 
 lieved her to be a woman of great piety and virtue. 
 One day, when it was not the season for mango-fruits, 
 the old woman earnestly begged the queen to gratify 
 her by procuring one, and on the queen’s acquainting 
 her royal consort of this request, he at once said aloud 
 
ALADDIN S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 343 
 
 in the crone’s presence, '' Let there be a mango-fruit 
 by the power of this ring,” when it appeared ; and she 
 readily understood that if she could but get the ring 
 into her possession, it would be an easy matter to 
 secure the queen for the king of Kochchi. So, with 
 this design, she pretended, a day or two afterwards, to 
 have a severe headache. All sorts of remedies were 
 applied, but without effect. At last she called the 
 queen to her side and said, '' My daughter, there is 
 only one remedy that can possibly cure my headache 
 and save my life, and that is your husband’s ring. 
 Get that for me, and I shall return it after wearing it 
 on my finger for a few seconds.” The queen procures 
 the ring and takes it to the infamous old hag, who 
 had no sooner put it on her finger than she ascended 
 into the sky and disappeared, leaving the queen in a 
 state of utter despair. 
 
 The old woman reached Kochchi in the twinkling of 
 an eye, and having placed the ring before the king 
 and received the promised reward, she told him that if 
 he thought of the lady he admired, with the ring on 
 his finger, he should have her by his side instantly. 
 As the king was dying for love, he thought of the lady; 
 and lo ! the queen of Mshada, who was pining away 
 in sorrow for the loss of the ring, was suddenly lifted 
 into the sky and placed before him. Delighted at the 
 power of the ring, he then desired that the king of 
 Mshada should become mad, and that his kingdom 
 should be burnt to ashes, both of which great misfor- 
 tunes took place accordingly. But the unhappy queen 
 
344 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 obtained leave of the king of Kochchi to keep an eight- 
 days’ fast before the celebration of their nuptials, dur- 
 ing which she should distribute money and food to the 
 poor. Thousands flocked daily to the palace, amongst 
 whom came her own husband, formerly king of Mshada, 
 now a poor lunatic, wandering about the land with his 
 cat, and begging his bread. The queen observed him 
 take his seat with other beggars ; and when the leaves 
 were spread out (to serve as plates), the mad king 
 fought with the leaf-spreader to have one laid also be- 
 fore his cat. She remonstrated with the leaf-spreader 
 on his refusal to give food to the cat, which had life as 
 well as men ; and her sorrow knew no bounds to see 
 her husband sitting among beggars voraciously eating 
 the food placed before him ; and when he had satisfied 
 his hunger he lay down and slept, while his faithful cat 
 perched upon his bosom. 
 
 Some refuse-leaves had been thrown near the spot 
 where the king of Mshada slept, and a number of rats 
 began to eat them. Among these was a stout rat, who, 
 by his prominent appearance and the respect paid to 
 him by the others, was evidently the rat-king. The 
 cat, who was pitying his master all the while, and 
 wished to try his best to reinstate him in his kingdom, 
 sprang on the rat-raja, and seizing him by the neck, 
 spoke to him thus : If you are able to do me a service 
 which I require, I will set you at liberty. My master, 
 who lies there asleep, had a ring which is now in 
 the possession of the king of this country. If you 
 do not bring it, I shall certainly eat you.” The rat 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDEEFUL LAMP. 
 
 345 
 
 promised to procure the ring, and sent his subjects to 
 examine the king’s treasure-chests. To their great joy, 
 they found the ring in a box near which the king of 
 Kochchi was himself sleeping, and brought it to the 
 cat, who then liberated the rat-raja. The cat, having 
 awoke his master by placing the ring on his breast, 
 related how it had been lost and recovered ; and 
 W’hen the king put the ring on his finger, behold ! his 
 senses were restored to him. Wishing himself and his 
 queen back in Nishada, and everything to be as it was 
 before, he then wished Kochchi to become insane and 
 his kingdom destroyed, and all these things were ac- 
 complished. Thus reclaiming every good thing which 
 he had lost by means of his faithful cat, the king reigned 
 many years over his loyal subjects. 
 
 The story of Aladdin and his Lamp and three or 
 four others in Galland’s ' Mille et une Knits ’ were, 
 on the first publication of that work, generally con- 
 sidered as his own inventions ; and when in after- 
 years several Arabic texts of the ' Elf Layla wa Layla ’ 
 preserved in the great European libraries were ex- 
 amined and none of these tales discovered in any of 
 them, it was almost concluded that they were not of 
 Asiatic extraction. Yet Galland was surely the last 
 man to attempt such an imposture, even had he pos- 
 sessed the ability — which there is no reason to sup- 
 pose — for constructing from his own fancy tales at 
 least equal to those which are admitted to be of Ara- 
 bian composition ; and indeed his literary integrity is 
 
346 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 now satisfactorily vindicated. Mr H. C. Coote, in an 
 interesting paper on “ The Sources of some of M. Gall- 
 and’s Tales/’ published in the 'Folk-Lore Eecord/ vol. 
 iii. part 2, has shown that the chief incidents of the 
 stories of Aladdin, Ali Baba, Prince Ahmed, and the 
 Two Envious Sisters were known in Italy before Gall- 
 and’s work appeared, and is of the opinion that the 
 equivalents of these four tales found their way into 
 Italy through Byzantine Greece, European and Asi- 
 atic, but that Galland probably heard them at Con- 
 stantinople and Smyrna, where he sojourned many 
 years. It does not appear that Mr Coote knew of the 
 Turco-Arabian (or Turco-Egyptian) version presented 
 in the story, cited in the present paper, of the Fisher- 
 man’s Son, or of the Mongolian form, in both of which 
 the fundamental outlines are similar to several Euro- 
 pean variants, more especially the incident of the 
 recovery of the talisman by grateful animals, which 
 Galland may have thought advisable to modify to 
 suit the taste of his readers. So far indeed was 
 Galland from inventing these four stories, that they 
 all occur in Asiatic collections, and a fifth, Zeyn el- 
 Asnam, my learned friend Mr E. J. W. Gibb informs 
 me he has found in a Turkish story-book, by 'All 'Aziz. 
 
ogee’s life in an exteaneous object. 347 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 Life depending on some Extraneous Object (p. 318). 
 
 This is a characteristic of many folk- tales all over the world, 
 and some of our comparative mythologists have attempted to 
 explain its signification with very considerable ingenuity.^ Miss 
 Busk, in a note on the death of the wizard in her story of 
 Cajusse, cites a parallel from a Hungarian tale, in which the 
 hero, Istvan (or Stephen), after a series of strange adventures, 
 is returning home with his bride, a king’s daughter, and having 
 drawn the king of the dwarfs out of a ditch, is himself thrust 
 into it by the ungrateful monster, who then decamps with the 
 princess. Istvan sets out to recover his bride. He meets with 
 a frog w’hose life he had saved, and who gives him important 
 aid, and leads him through further heroic adventures, in which 
 he renders services to other animals, who conduct him to the 
 palace of the dwarf-king. Here exactly the same scene occurs 
 between Istvan and his bride as between Cajusse and the sultan’s 
 daughter, and they lay the same plan. But the dwarf- king is 
 more astute than the magician, for he at first tells her that 
 his life’s safety lies in his sceptre, on which she persuades him 
 to give her the sceptre, that she may take care of it, but really 
 intending to give it to Istvan. When he sees her so anxious for 
 his safety, he tells her it is not in his sceptre ; but he does not 
 yet tell the truth, for he next says it is in the royal mantle, and 
 then in the crown. Ultimately he confides to her that his life 
 is in a golden cockchafer, inside a golden cock, inside a golden 
 sheep, inside a golden stag, in the 99th island. She communi- 
 cates all this to Istvan, who overcomes these golden animals by 
 the help of the beasts he had lately succoured, and thus recovers 
 his bride. 
 
 In the Russian, story of Koshchei the Deathless (Mr Ralston’s 
 collection). Prince Ivan’s mother says to him, Whereabouts is 
 
 1 See Cox’s ‘Aryan Mythology,’ vol. ii. pp. 36, 330; De Gubernatis’ 
 ‘Zoological Mythology,’ vol. i. p. 168; and an able paper in the ‘Folk- 
 Lore Journal,’ 1884, vol. ii. p. 302, on “The Philosophy of Punchkin,” 
 by Mr Edward Clodd. 
 
348 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 your ^ death,’ 0 Koshchei 1 ” He answers, “ My death is in such 
 and such a place. There stands an oak, and under the oak is a 
 casket, and in the casket is a hare, and in the hare is a duck, and 
 in the duck is an egg, and the egg is my death.” By-and-by 
 Prince Ivan went to look for Koshchei’s death. He went on 
 his way a long time without eating or drinking. At last he 
 felt mortally hungry, and thought, If only something would 
 come my way.” Suddenly there appeared a young wolf, and he 
 determined to kill it. But out of a hole sprang the she-wolf and 
 said, “ Don’t hurt my little one, and I’ll do you a good turn.” 
 Says Prince Ivan, “Very good,” and he let the young wolf go. 
 After this he befriends in succession a crow and a pike, and 
 these grateful animals help him to get Koshchei’s “ death.” — In 
 another version Koshchei attempts to deceive his fair captive 
 by pretending that his death resides in a besom or in a fence, 
 both of which she adorns with gold in token of her love. Then 
 he confesses that his death really lies in an egg, inside a duck, 
 inside a log, which is floating on the sea.^ 
 
 So, too, in one of Campbell’s ‘Tales of the West Highlands,’ 
 there is a flagstone under the threshold, a wether is under the 
 flagstone, in the wether is a duck, in the duck an egg, and in 
 the egg is the giant’s soul. And in Dasent’s ‘Norse Tales’ the 
 princess learns from the giant who had no heart in his body, 
 that “ far, far away, in a lake lies an island, in that island is a 
 church, in that church is a well, in that well a duck is swim- 
 ming, in that duck is an egg, and in that egg is my heart, you 
 darling ! ” 
 
 The same notion occurs, with local modifications, in a great 
 number of Hindu folk-tales. To cite a few examples : In Miss 
 Frere’s ‘ Old Deccan Days ’ (story of Punchkin), a magician 
 says, “ Far, far away, hundreds of thousands of miles from 
 
 1 Cf. Delilah’s attempts to wheedle out of Samson the secret of his 
 strength : how he told her, first, that if bound with seven green withs, 
 he should be weak and be as another man ; next, if he were bound with 
 new ropes ; then, if the seven locks of his head were fastened to the pin 
 of the weaving-beam ; and how he confessed at last the fact that if 
 his head were shaven his strength should depart. — Book of Judges, 
 xvi. 4-20. 
 
ogre’s life in an extraneous object. 349 
 
 this, there lies a desolate country covered with jungle. In the 
 midst of the jungle grows a circle of palm-trees, and in the 
 centre of the circle stand six chattis full of water, piled one 
 above another. Below the sixth chatti is a small cage, which 
 contains a little green parrot. On the life of that parrot de- 
 pends my life, and if the parrot is killed I must die.” A rak- 
 shasa, in another story, says, “ Sixteen miles away from this 
 place is a tree ; round the tree are tigers and bears and scorpions 
 and snakes ; on the top of the tree is a great flat snake ; on the 
 snake’s head is a little cage ; in that cage is a bird ; and my soul 
 is in that bird.” In Miss Stokes’ ‘Indian Fairy Tales’ the 
 daughter of a demon tells a king’s son, “ On the other side of 
 the sea is a great tree ; in that tree is a nest ; in that nest is a 
 maina [hill-starling] ; and if one kills that maina, my father 
 will die.” In No. I of the Eev. Lai Bahari Day’s ‘ Folk-Tales 
 of Bengal ’ the life of a young prince is bound up, from his birth, 
 in that of a hoal fish, which is in a tank in front of the palace. 
 In the heart of the fish is a small box of wood, in the box is a 
 necklace of gold, and in that necklace is the prince’s life. And 
 in No. 4 a captive princess one night feigns anxiety as to what 
 she shall do when her “ friend ” the rakshasi (female demon) 
 shall die, to which she responds that “ in a tank close by, deep 
 down in the water, is a crystal pillar, on the top of which are 
 two bees. If any human being can dive into the water and 
 bring up these two bees in one breath, and destroy them so that 
 not a drop of their blood falls to the ground, then we rakshasas 
 shall certainly die ; but if a single drop of their blood falls to 
 the ground, then from it will start up a thousand rakshasas.” 
 — In a Kashmiri tale, entitled “The Shipwrecked Prince,” 
 contributed by the Eev. J. Hinton Knowles to the ‘ Indian 
 Antiquary’ for September 1885 (p. 250), an ogre confides to his 
 fair captive that there is in a certain tree a honeycomb, and that 
 his life is in the queen-bee there. In his cave is a stool which 
 would convey any one who sat upon it to the honeycomb (or 
 anywhere else), but the bees are so fierce that they would sting 
 to death the person who should attempt to seize their queen- 
 bee ; so the ogre considered himself as quite safe. 
 
 In the Arabian story of Sayf el-Muluk and Badia el- Jamal, 
 
350 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the princess of Hind asks the genii who has stolen her where 
 his soul abides, in order that she might watch over it, and he 
 tells her that it is in the crop of a sparrow ; the sparrow is shut 
 up in a box ; the box is in a casket, which is within seven other 
 caskets, and these again are within seven chests, laid in an ala- 
 bastrine coffer, which is buried in the margin of the earth 
 encircling the sea. 
 
 But the life of the demon or giant Mairavana, who carried off 
 and confined Kama and Lakshmana, depended on no less than 
 five separate objects. According to a Telegu version of the 
 story (the Sanskrit original of which is said to form a part of 
 the ‘ Jaimini Bharata ’), Hanuman, the monkey-deity, having 
 killed all the giant’s guards and carried the two princes out of 
 the castle, set to work to demolish the fortifications, which 
 brought Mairavana against him. He overthrew but could not 
 kill the giant, and on marvelling at the cause, is informed by 
 Dordandi (the giant’s sister) that the five vital airs of the giant 
 are on a mountain 60,000 Ms remote, in the form of five black 
 bees. Hanuman immediately travels thither, and catches and 
 kills the bees, on which Mairavana perishes.^ 
 
 The comparatively novel theory — which is entertained by Sir 
 E. F. Burton and other eminent European scholars — that Egypt 
 was the centre of the world’s civilisation, and that even the most 
 ancient Hindu apologues and fictions were derived, mediately 
 or immediately, from that country, seems to be supported to 
 some extent by the circumstance that the notion of an individ- 
 ual’s heart existing apart from his body is found in an Egyptian 
 romance, written 3000 years ago, to which reference has already 
 been made in my introductory chapter (pp. 67, 68), and of 
 which an account is furnished, in a paper on Hieratic Papyri, 
 by Mr C. W. Goodman, in ‘ Cambridge Essays,’ 1858 : Satii 
 tells his brother Anapii that he will take his heart and place it 
 in the flowers of an acacia-tree. If at some future time the 
 brother desires to renew communication with him, he must 
 search for his heart, and, when found, place it in a vessel con- 
 
 1 ‘ Descriptive Catalogue of the Mackenzie MSS.,’ &c., by H. H. Wilson ; 
 vol. i. p. 329. 
 
ogee’s life in an exteaneous object. 351 
 
 taining wine or some otlier liquor, with certain ceremonies. 
 Satri will then appear to him, and answer any questions he may 
 put. . . . Ka, the sun -god, says to Num, the creator, 
 
 “ Wilt thou not make a woman for Satu, that he may not re- 
 main alone Niim accedes to this request, and forms for him 
 a consort more beauteous than all the women in Egypt, for all 
 the gods endow her with gifts. He takes the beautiful creature 
 to his house, and she remains at home while he employs himself 
 industriously in hunting. One day he says to her, “ When 
 thou goest out to walk, beware lest the river seize thee, for I 
 could not deliver thee, being a woman even as thou art [he had 
 emasculated himself, when his brother sought to slay him on a 
 false accusation of his (Anapii’s) wife] ; for my heart is among 
 the flowers of the acacia.” He then explains his history to her. 
 The daughter of the gods loses no time in going to the acacia- 
 tree to search for her husband’s heart, when she perceives the 
 river overflowing his banks and advancing towards her. A lock 
 of her richly perfumed hair floats down the river as she escapes, 
 and it is taken to the king of Egypt, who seeks for her far and 
 wide, as did another Egyptian king, Psammeticus, according to 
 ^lian, for Khodope (the prototype of Cinderella), whose shoe 
 was carried off by an eagle while she bathed, and dropped into 
 his lap. When the daughter of the gods is at length discovered 
 to be the owner of the tress of perfumed hair, and brought before 
 the king, she at once induces him to cut down the acacia-tree in 
 order to get rid of her husband Satii; then the heart falls and 
 Satu dies. He is, however, afterwards resuscitated, by his 
 brother Anapu finding his heart and steeping it, as he had 
 been instructed, in a vessel full of wine. The resemblance be- 
 tween the incident of the tress of perfumed hair in this oldest 
 of fairy tales and that of the hair-ball in the Tamil member of 
 the Aladdin-cycle, cited in the foregoing paper (p. 341), is 
 probably not merely fortuitous. ^ 
 
 1 Cf. Gen. ii. 18 : “ It is not good that the man should be alone ; I will 
 make him an help meet for him. ” 
 
 2 The “life-trees,” etc., which figure in many folk-tales (see ante^ pp. 
 170, 171) are evidently near akin to the idea exemplified in the ancient 
 Egyptian story and its derivatives. 
 
352 
 
 THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES. 
 
 TT is well known that fairies are (or rather were, for, 
 alas ! they are no more) a very merry but caprici- 
 ous race of beings: well was it for such as found 
 favour in their sight — woe to those who in any way 
 offended them ! In proof of this there is an amusing 
 story in Thoms’ 'Lays and Legends of France,’ to the 
 following effect: Once upon a time a hunchback 
 minstrel, returning from a merry-making, fell asleep 
 on fairy -ground, and awaking at midnight he dis- 
 covered a large party of fairies disporting themselves, 
 so he played to them on his instrument, while they 
 danced to their hearts’ content. Before they departed, 
 the fairies asked the minstrel to name his wish, and 
 it would be gratified, as a reward for his excellent 
 music. He requested that his hump should be re- 
 moved, which was done instantly, and he returned 
 to his village straight in body, without the ugly pro- 
 tuberance on his back. One of his neighbours, a 
 surly fellow, who had also a hump, became envious 
 of his good luck, and on learning how he had got rid 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES. 353 
 
 of his hump, secretly went at night to the spot where 
 the fairies were wont to dance. When they discovered 
 him, they desired him to give them some music, but 
 this he could not do; so, by way of revenge, they 
 took the minstrel’s hump, and clapped it on that of 
 the ill-natured fellow, who was ever after the laugh- 
 ing-stock of his tovmsmen. 
 
 A different form of this story is given in Grimm’s 
 ‘ Kinder und Haus Marchen ’ : One evening a tailor 
 and a hunchbacked blacksmith were returning from 
 a town where they had been working at their respec- 
 tive trades. As night came on, they saw the sun 
 setting behind the hills, and presently, as the moon 
 rose, came the sound of distant music, which grew 
 more distinct as they advanced on their way. The 
 tones were somewhat unearthly, but so charming that 
 they forgot their fatigue, and went forward with rapid 
 steps. After walking some little distance they reached 
 the hill-side, and caught sight of a crowd of little men 
 and women, holding each other’s hands and dancing 
 merrily in a circle to the strange music they had 
 heard. In the centre was a little old man, with a 
 coat of many colours, and a snow-white beard spread- 
 ing over his breast. The hunchbacked blacksmith, 
 being a bold fellow, stepped in to take a share in the 
 merriment ; but the tailor at first held back, the ring 
 again closed, and the pixies resumed their dancing. 
 After they had ended, the old man took a knife, 
 sharpened it on a stone, and looked at the strangers 
 VOL. I. 
 
 z 
 
354 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 SO that they trembled. He then seized the smith, 
 and with one stroke shaved his hair and beard clean 
 off, and afterwards treated the tailor in the same 
 manner. Then he slapped them on the shoulder, 
 and said they had done wisely not to resist; and 
 pointing to a heap of coals, signed to fill their pockets. 
 Both did so, and took leave of the pixies ; and as they 
 passed through a valley they heard the hour of mid- 
 night tolled from the church tower, upon which the 
 music ceased, and the pixies disappeared. The tra- 
 vellers put up at a wayside inn, where they had to be 
 content with a bundle of straw for a bed, and in the 
 morning they discovered their pockets filled with gold 
 in place of the coals they had taken the preceding 
 night, and, not less wonderful, their hair and beards 
 were grown again. The smith, who was a very 
 avaricious man, and had filled both his pockets, was 
 not content, but proposed to go again the next night ; 
 the tailor, however, was quite satisfied with what he 
 had got from the pixies, but consented to wait for his 
 companion at the inn. As night drew on, the smith, 
 having provided himself with two large sacks, went 
 to the meadow where the pixies had held their revels 
 the previous night, and found the same company 
 assembled. The old pixie, who knew the sort of 
 fellow he had to do with, signed to him to take as 
 much coals as he pleased, so the smith filled his two 
 sacks, and returned to the inn. But in the morning 
 he found he had nothing save coals; his hair and 
 beard were permanently removed ; the hump on his 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIKIES. 
 
 355 
 
 back had grown larger ; and he had ever afterwards 
 to wear a cap to cover his bald head. 
 
 In an Italian version entitled '' I due Fratelli 
 Gobbi/’ the Two Hunchbacked Brothers, given by 
 Miss Busk in her ‘Folk-Lore of Eome,’ the magic 
 stick reappears for the hero’s benefit : There was 
 once a man, who had one son, who married a widow, 
 who had also one son, and both were hunchbacks. 
 The wife took very good care of her own son, but the 
 son of her husband she used to put to hard work, and 
 gave him scarcely anything to eat. Her son, too, used 
 to follow her example, and sadly ill-used his step- 
 brother. After ill-treating him for a long time, she 
 at length sent him away from the house altogether. 
 The poor little hunchback wandered without knowing 
 whither to go. On, on he went, till he came to a 
 lonely hut on a wide moor. At his approach a 
 whole host of little hunchbacks came out and 
 danced round him, chanting plaintively — 
 
 Sabbato ! 
 
 Domenica ! ^ 
 
 a great number of times. At last our little hunch- 
 back felt his courage stirred, and, taking up the note 
 of their chant, chimed in with — 
 
 Lunedi ! ^ 
 
 Instantly the dancing ceased: all the hunchbacked 
 dwarfs became full-grown, well -formed men, and, 
 
 ^ Saturday, Sunday. ^ Monday. 
 
356 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 what was better still, his own hump was gone too, 
 and he felt that he also was a well -grown lad. 
 
 Good people,” said he, '' I thank you much for rid- 
 ding me of my hump, and making me a well-grown 
 lad. Give me some work to do among you, and let 
 me live with you.” But the chief of the strange 
 people answered him and said, '' This favour we owe 
 to you, and you are not indebted to us; for it was 
 your chiming in with the right word on the right note 
 that destroyed the spell that held us all. And in 
 testimony of our gratitude we give you this little 
 wand, and you will not need to work as you did 
 formerly. Go back and live at home, and if any one 
 beats you as heretofore, you have only to say to it, 
 ‘ At them, good stick ! ’ and you will see what it will 
 do for you.” So the youth goes home again, and 
 when his step-mother learnt how he had got rid of 
 his hump, she sent her own son to the hut of the 
 strange folk. When he saw a party of hunchbacked 
 dwarfs dancing and chanting — 
 
 Sabbato ! 
 
 Domenica ! 
 
 Lunedi ! 
 
 he chanted, all out of tune, 
 
 Martedi ! ^ 
 
 and was rewarded with a drubbing and a hump on 
 his breast, besides the one he already had on his 
 back. Coming home, his mother, seeing his plight, 
 sets upon her step-son ; but he takes his magic stick 
 ^ Tuesday. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES. 
 
 357 
 
 and cries, '' At ’em, good stick ! ” and the old woman 
 gets a sound rib-roasting, until she begs for mercy ; 
 and ever after this he lived at home in perfect peace.^ 
 
 There is a version from the south of Ireland which 
 presents a very close analogy to the main incidents 
 in the foregoing Italian story : In olden times there 
 lived a poor little hunchback, who was nicknamed 
 Lusmore, from his always wearing a sprig of the 
 fairy-cap, or lusmore (the foxglove), in his straw hat. 
 One evening he was returning from the town of 
 Cahir towards Cappagh, and it was quite dark when 
 he came to the old moat of Knockgrafton. Tired 
 and weary, he sat down under the moat to rest 
 himself, and began looking mournfully upon the 
 moon. Presently there rose a wild stream of un- 
 earthly melody: he listened, and thought he had 
 never heard such ravishing music before. It was 
 like the sound of many voices, each mingling and 
 blending with the other so strangely that they 
 seemed to be one, though all singing different 
 strains, and these were the words of the song: 
 
 Da Luan, 
 
 Da Mort, 
 
 Da Luan, 
 
 Da Mort, 
 
 Da Luan, 
 
 Da Mort ; ^ 
 
 ^ A Tuscan version given by Mr Crane in his ^Italian Popular 
 Tales,’ p. 103, agrees generally with the above : there is, however, 
 no step-mother ; the two hunchbacks reside together after the catas- 
 trophe ; and the magic stick does not figure in the story. 
 
 2 Monday, Tuesday. 
 
358 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 when there would be a moment’s pause, and then the 
 sound of melody went on again. Lusmore listened 
 attentively, scarcely drawing his breath lest he 
 should lose the slightest note. He now plainly per- 
 ceived that the singing was within the moat, and 
 though at first it had charmed him so much, he 
 began to get tired of hearing the same round sung 
 over and over so often without any change ; so, 
 availing himself of the pause when 
 
 Da Lnan, 
 
 Da Mort, 
 
 had been sung three times, he took up the tune and 
 raised it with the words, 
 
 Augus da Cadine ; ^ 
 
 and then went on singing with the voices inside of the 
 moat. 
 
 Da Luan, 
 
 Da Mort ; 
 
 finishing the melody, when the pause again came, with 
 Angus da Cadine. 
 
 The fairies within Knockgrafton — for the song was 
 a fairy melody — when they heard this addition to 
 their tune, were so much delighted, that with instant 
 resolve it was determined to bring the mortal 
 amongst them whose musical skill so far exceeded 
 theirs, and little Lusmore was conveyed into their 
 company with the eddying speed of a whirlwind. 
 
 1 And Wednesday. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIEIES. 
 
 359 
 
 The greatest honour was paid him, for he was put 
 above all the musicians, and he had servants to 
 wait on him, and everything to his heart’s content. 
 By-and-by Lusmore saw the fairies engaged in con- 
 sultation, and he felt frightened, in spite of their 
 civility, till one of them stepped forward and said — 
 
 “ Lusmore ! Lusmore ! 
 
 Doubt not, nor deplore ; 
 
 For the hump which you bore 
 On your back is no more : 
 
 Look down on the floor, 
 
 And view it, Lusmore ! ’’ 
 
 When these words were said, poor little Lusmore felt 
 himself so happy and so light, that he thought he 
 could have bounded at one jump over the moon ; 
 and he saw, with inexpressible pleasure, his hump 
 tumble from his shoulders to the ground. At last 
 he fell into a sound sleep, and when he awoke he 
 found it was broad daylight, the sun shining brightly 
 and the birds singing merrily, and that he was lying 
 at the foot of the moat of Knockgrafton, with the 
 cows and sheep grazing peacefully about him. He 
 put his hand behind to feel for his hump, but it was 
 gone, sure enough, and he had now become a well- 
 shaped, dapper little fellow : moreover, he was clothed 
 in a bran-new suit, doubtless the gift of the fairies. 
 When he returned to Cappagh, not a soul knew him 
 at first, such was the alteration in his person. The 
 story soon spread far and wide, and one day an old 
 woman came up to him as he sat by his cabin door. 
 
360 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 and told him that the son of her gossip had got a 
 great hump on his back, and she had come to learn 
 the charm that could effect its removal. Lusmore 
 gave her all particulars, which she duly communi- 
 cated to her gossip’s hunchbacked son, a peevish and 
 cunning creature, whose name was Jack Madden. 
 He was driven by his friends in a car, and just at 
 nightfall they left him under the old moat of Knock- 
 grafton. Jack Madden had not sat there long when 
 he heard the tune going on within the moat, much 
 sweeter than before; for the fairies were singing it 
 the way Lusmore had settled their music for them, 
 and the song was going on. 
 
 Da Luan, 
 
 Da Mort, 
 
 Angus Cadine, 
 
 without ever stopping. Jack Madden, who was in 
 a great hurry to get rid of his hump, never thought 
 of waiting till the fairies had done, so out he bawls 
 without minding the time, or how he could bring in 
 the words properly, 
 
 Angus da Cadine, 
 
 Angus da Hena,i 
 
 thinking that if one day was good, two were better, 
 and that if Lusmore had one new suit of clothes given 
 him, he should have two. But the words had no 
 sooner passed his lips than he was taken up and 
 whisked into the moat with prodigious force, and 
 the fairies came crowding about him in great anger, 
 
 ^ And Thursday. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES. 
 
 361 
 
 screaming, Who spoiled our tune ? who spoiled our 
 tune ? ” and twenty of the strongest fairies brought 
 Lusmore’s hump and put it upon Jack’s own hump, 
 where it became firmly fixed. In the morning his 
 friends found him half-dead, lying at the foot of the 
 old moat, with a double hump on his back, and they 
 carried him home, but he died of vexation soon after, 
 leaving his heavy curse, they say, on all who should 
 go and listen to fairy tunes again.^ 
 
 From this Irish legend it is probable that Parnell 
 composed his fine “Fairy Tale, in the ancient English 
 style,” of which the opening verses are as follows : 
 
 In Britain’s isle and Arthur’s days, 
 
 When midnight fairies danced the maze, 
 
 Lived Edwin of the Green ; 
 
 Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth, 
 
 Endowed with courage, sense, and truth. 
 
 Though badly shaped he’d been. 
 
 His mountain-back mote well be said 
 To measure height against his head. 
 
 And lift itself above : 
 
 Yet, spite of all that Nature did 
 To make his uncouth form forbid. 
 
 This creature dared to love. 
 
 He felt the charms of Edith’s eyes. 
 
 Nor wanted hope to gain the prize. 
 
 Could ladies look within. 
 
 But one Sir Topaz dressed with art, 
 
 And if a shape could win a heart. 
 
 He had a shape to win. 
 
 1 Crocker’s ‘ Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland : 
 
 “ The Legend of Knockgrafton. ” 
 
362 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Distraught with his love, poor Edwin wanders one 
 night near an enchanted court; he enters and lays 
 himself down, hoping to banish his woes for a season 
 in slumber. Suddenly a hundred bright tapers illu- 
 mine the ruined hall, and he hears the patter of many 
 feet and the sound of many strange voices. From his 
 corner he discovers a gay procession of little folk 
 pranking along the floor. Presently one who seemed 
 the chief of the fairies (for such they were) calls out. 
 What mortal infests the balmy air with his doleful 
 sighs ? ” Edwin comes forward and tells his sad tale 
 without reserve : 
 
 “ ’Twas grief for scorn of faithful love 
 
 Which made my steps unweeting rove 
 Amid this nightly crew.’’ 
 
 “ ’Tis well,” the gallant cries again : 
 
 “We fairies never injure men 
 Who dare to tell us true. 
 
 “ Exalt thy love-dejected heart; 
 
 Be mine the task, or ere we part, 
 
 To make thy grief resign. 
 
 Now take the pleasure of the chance, 
 
 Whilst I with Mah my partner dance, 
 
 Be little Mabel thine.” 
 
 The dancing is followed by some of the merry pranks 
 of Eobin Goodfellow, and, says the poet. 
 
 Here ended all the phantom play; 
 
 They smelt the fresh approach of day. 
 
 And heard the cock to crow : 
 
 The whistling wind that bore the crowd 
 
 Has clapped the door and whistled loud. 
 
 To warn them all to go. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES. 
 
 363 
 
 When Edwin awoke at daybreak he found his hump 
 gone. Edith sees and admires him on his return home. 
 Sir Topaz, having heard of the fairy revels, goes to 
 witness them. His presence is of course discovered 
 by the fairies, who demand to know his business 
 there. Sir Topaz replies that he had lost his way, 
 but the fairies know full well that such was not the 
 fact, so they punish him for his falsehood by fixing 
 Edwin’s hump on his back ; and we may well suppose 
 that Sir Topaz after this no longer found favour with 
 the beauteous Edith. 
 
 The story, says a writer in the ‘ Quarterly Eeview,’ 
 No. LXiii., is told in Spain very nearly as it is in 
 Ireland : A humpbacked man hears some small voices 
 singing — 
 
 Lunes y Martes y Miercoles, tres,^ 
 and he completes their song by the addition of 
 Jueves y Yiernes y Sabado, seis.^ 
 
 The fairies, who were the songsters, are so pleased at 
 this, that they immediately relieve him from his hump 
 and dismiss him with honour. A stupid fellow, afflicted 
 with the same deformity, having got wind of this story, 
 intrudes upon them, and offers a new addition to their 
 song in 
 
 Y Domingo, siete.^ 
 
 Indignant at the breach of rhythm, or at the mention 
 
 ^ Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday, three. 
 
 Thursday and Friday and Saturday, six. 
 
 ^ And the Lord’s Day, seven. 
 
364 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 of the Lord’s Day, which is a tender subject with 
 fairies,^ they seize the intruder, and according to 
 received genii-practice, overwhelm him with a shower 
 of blows, and send him off with his neighbour’s hump 
 in addition to his own. Hence '' Y Domingo, siete ” is 
 a common Spanish comment upon anything which is 
 said or done mal-dj-propos. 
 
 The following Breton story — cited by Keightley in 
 his 'Fairy Mythology’ (1850), from an article in a 
 work entitled 'Tracts for the People’ — presents sev- 
 eral points of resemblance to the Italian and Irish 
 versions : 
 
 The valley of Goel was a celebrated haunt of the 
 korred \i,e., fairies]. It was thought dangerous to 
 pass through it at night, lest one should be forced to 
 join in their dances, and thus perhaps lose his life. 
 One evening, however, a peasant and his wife thought- 
 lessly did so, and they soon found themselves sur- 
 rounded by dancing sprites, who kept singing — 
 
 Lez y, lez hon, 
 
 Bas an arer zo gant hon ; 
 
 Lez on, lez y, 
 
 Bas an arer zo gant y.^ 
 
 It seems the man had in his hand the fourche, or short 
 
 ^ In the Italian version, however, the fairies themselves chant 
 “ Domenica.” 
 
 2 Let him go, let him go. 
 
 For he has the wand of the plough ; 
 
 Let her go, let her go. 
 
 For she has the wand of the plough. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES. 
 
 365 
 
 stick which is used as a plough-handle in Brittany, 
 and this was a protection, for the dancers made way 
 for them to go out of the ring. 
 
 When this became known, many persons, having 
 fortified themselves with a fourche, gratified their 
 curiosity by witnessing the dance of the korred. 
 Among the rest were two tailors, Peric and Jean, 
 who, being merry fellows, dared each other to join 
 in the dance. They drew lots, and the lot fell upon 
 Peric, a hump-backed, red-haired, but bold and stout 
 little fellow. He went up to the korred and asked 
 permission to take share in their dance. They 
 granted it, and all went whirling round and round, 
 singing — 
 
 Dilun, Dimeurs, Dimerc’her.^ 
 
 Peric, weary of the monotony, when there was a slight 
 pause at the last word, added — 
 
 Ha Diriaou, ha Digwener.^ 
 
 Mat ! mat ! ’’ (good ! good !) cried they, and gathering 
 round him, they offered him his choice of beauty, or 
 rank, or riches. He laughed, and only asked them to 
 remove his hump and change the colour of his hair. 
 They forthwith took hold of him, and tossed him up 
 into the air, throwing him from hand to hand till at 
 last he lighted on his feet with a flat back, and fine 
 long black hair. 
 
 When Jean saw and heard of the change, he re- 
 
 ^ Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. 
 
 ^ And Thursday, and Friday. 
 
366 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 solved to try what he could get from the potent 
 korred; so a few evenings after he went and was 
 admitted to the dance, which now went to the words 
 as enlarged by Peric. To make his addition, he 
 shouted out — 
 
 Ha Disadarn, ha Disul.^ 
 
 '' What more ? what more ? cried the korred, but he 
 only went on repeating the words. They then asked 
 him what he would have, and he replied, riches. They 
 tossed him up and kept bandying him about till he 
 cried for mercy, and on coming to the ground he found 
 he had got Peric’s hump and red hair. 
 
 It appears that the korred were condemned to this 
 continual dancing, which was never to cease till a 
 mortal should join in their dance ; and after naming 
 all the days of the week, should add, Ha cetu chu er 
 sizum ’’ (and now the week is ended). They punished 
 Jean for coming so near the end, and then disappoint- 
 ing them. 
 
 In a version from Amiens, given by M. Henri 
 Carnoy in 'Melusine’ (1878),^ tome i., c. 241, we find 
 a curious variant of the Slav and Chinese stories 
 of Hospitality Eewarded — see ante, pages 102-7 : A 
 peasant woman, while engaged collecting dead wood 
 
 ^ And Saturday, and Sunday. 
 
 2 ‘ Melusine : revue de mythologie, litterature populaire, traditions, 
 et usages ; dirig^e par H. Gaidoz et E. Rolland.’ — The publication of 
 this excellent journal, after having been discontinued for six years, 
 was resumed in 1885. It would be difficult to over-rate its value to 
 story-comparers. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIEIES. 
 
 367 
 
 in a forest, comes upon three fairies dancing and 
 chanting — 
 
 Dimanche, lundi, 
 
 Apres mardi, 
 
 Ensuite mercredi, 
 
 Avec jeudid 
 
 She joined in the dance, and chimed in — 
 
 Yendredi, samedi, 
 
 La semaine est fini, 
 
 Dieu Ta dit.^ 
 
 “What you’ll do to-morrow on rising,” said one of 
 the fairies, “ you’ll do the whole day. That is the 
 reward which we accord you for having finished our 
 song.” 
 
 Next morning when she arose, thinking little of 
 what the fairies had said, her husband asked her for 
 two sous to get some beer. She put her hand in her 
 pocket, and was astonished to find it full of money ; 
 and she continued from morning till night taking 
 money out of her pocket. A neighbour, whom she 
 had called in to help her to count her treasure, learns 
 from her the secret of her great luck, and goes off to 
 the wood, where she discovers the fairies and joins in 
 their dance, and adds to their chant the same refrain 
 as her gossip had done. The fairies also promise her 
 that what she’d do in the morning she’d do all the 
 day. Eeturning home, she slipped a six-sous piece into 
 
 ^ Sunday, Monday, after Tuesday, follows Wednesday, with 
 Thursday. 
 
 2 Friday, Saturday, the week is ended, God says it. 
 
368 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 her pocket, expecting to take out a large quantity of 
 similar coins on the morrow. But alas ! so soon as 
 she arose in the morning she found it necessary to 
 relieve nature, and so she continued doing all that 
 day. 
 
 Mr Ealston, in an interesting paper on Sicilian 
 Fairy Tales in 'Fraser’s Magazine’ for April 1876, 
 cites a somewhat singular version from Dr Pitre’s 
 collection : ^ A hunchbacked shoemaker once passed 
 a night in a haunted house. At midnight down 
 dropped from the ceiling of the room in which he 
 kept watch quattru pupi — four puppets,^ who began 
 to sing — 
 
 Luni, Marti, Miercuri, Juovidi, Venn ire, e Sabutu 
 
 Hearing this, the hunchback lifted up his voice and 
 joined harmoniously in the song. Delighted to find 
 he was not frightened, they took off his hump and 
 hung it upon the wall. Before the day dawned they 
 disappeared. Great was the astonishment of the 
 neighbours, when they came in the morning to see 
 how the shoemaker had fared at the hands of li diavuli, 
 to find him happy and humpless. 
 
 Now there was among them an old woman who had 
 a hump larger than his had been, and when she had 
 
 ^ ‘ Fiabe, novelle, e racconti popolari siciliani.’ Raccolti ed illus- 
 trati da Giuseppe Pitre. Palermo, 1875. 
 
 2 Enchanted puppets are a striking characteristic of Sicilian folk- 
 tales ; they occur seldom in Northern fictions. 
 
 2 Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIIIIES. 369 
 
 heard his story she determined to try her luck with 
 the diavuli. So next night she kept watch in the 
 haunted house. At midnight appeared the 'pupi, and 
 began to sing as before. The old woman joined in the 
 song, but very badly ; and the puppets, seeing that she 
 was not inclined to sing cheerfully, took down the 
 shoemaker’s hump from the wall and fastened it on to 
 her breast. So she had a couple of them, one before 
 and one behind, and the sight of her next day made 
 the neighbours right cheerful. 
 
 Another adventure with the fairies is the subject of 
 a Breton ballad : One Friday night, Paskou, a tailor 
 out of work, enters a fairy grotto, digs up a crock of 
 treasure, and makes off with it, pursued by the korred 
 right into his courtyard, dancing and singing full 
 lustily, ''Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday 
 and Friday.” Finding the door shut, they clamber on 
 to the roof, break a hole in it, through which they get 
 into the house, where they resume their dance and 
 song, calling out to poor Paskou, who lies trembling 
 under the bed-clothes — 
 
 Hilloa ! tailor, Master Snip ! 
 
 Show us but your nose’s tip ; — 
 
 Come, let’s have a dancing bout, 
 
 We will teach you step and shout ! 
 
 Tailor — little tailor, dear, 
 
 Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday — hear ! 
 
 Tailor thou, and robber too, 
 
 Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, too ! 
 
 2 A 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
370 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Come again — come back to us, 
 
 Little tailor villainous ! 
 
 You shall dance until you crack 
 Every sinew in your back ; — 
 
 Fairies^ coin doth virtue lack ! 
 
 If Paskou had but had enough sense to complete 
 their song, by adding “ and Saturday,’’ no doubt all had 
 been well ; as it was, his stolen treasure was turned 
 into stones, like the gold of the blacksmith in the 
 German story. In another version the thief is a 
 baker, who, with more cunning than the tailor, strews 
 hot ashes round his house, so that when the fairies 
 come, they scorch their feet, for which indignity, how- 
 ever^ they take ample vengeance by breaking all his 
 pans and ovens.^ 
 
 We have thus seen that the story of the hunchbacks 
 and the fairies is known over Europe ; and among the 
 Japanese it is current in a form which strikingly re- 
 sembles the first French version, and which is given as 
 follows by Mr Mitford, in his entertaining ‘ Tales of 
 Old J apan,’ under the title of '' The Elves and the 
 Envious Neighbour”: 
 
 Once upon a time there was a certain man who, 
 being overtaken by darkness among the mountains, 
 was driven to seek shelter in the hollow trunk 
 of a tree. In the middle of the night a large 
 company of elves assembled at the spot ; and the 
 man, on peeping from his hiding-place, was fright- 
 1 ‘ Foreign Quarterly Keview,’ 1844, vol. xxxiii., pp. 171-3. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK AND THE FAIRIES. 
 
 371 
 
 ened out of his wits. After a while, however, the 
 elves began to feast and drink wine, and to amuse 
 themselves by singing and dancing, until at last the 
 man, caught by the infection of the fun, forgot all his 
 fears, and crept out of his hollow tree to join in the 
 revels. When the day was about to dawn, the elves 
 said to him, “You’re a very jolly companion, and 
 must come out and have a dance with us again. You 
 must make us a promise and keep it.” So the elves, 
 thinking to bind the man over to return, took a large 
 wen that grew upon his forehead, and kept it in pawn ; 
 upon this they all left the place and went home. The 
 man walked off to his own house, in high glee at 
 having passed a jovial night and got rid of his wen 
 into the bargain. So he told all his friends, who 
 congratulated him warmly on being cured of his wen. 
 But there was a neighbour of his who was also troubled 
 with a wen of long standing, and when he heard of his 
 friend’s luck, he was smitten with envy, and went off 
 to hunt for the hollow tree, in which, when he found it, 
 he passed the night. Towards midnight the elves 
 came, as he had expected, and began feasting and 
 drinking, with songs and dances, as before. When 
 he saw this, he came out of his hollow tree, and 
 began dancing and singing, as his neighbour had done. 
 The elves, mistaking him for their former boon com- 
 panion, were delighted to see him, and said, “ You’re 
 a good fellow to recollect your promise, and we’ll give 
 you back your pledge.” So one of the elves, pulling 
 the pawned wen out of his pocket, stuck it on the 
 
372 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 man’s forehead, on the top of the other wen which he 
 already had. And so the envious neighbour went 
 home weeping, with two wens instead of one. 
 
 It will be observed that the only difference between 
 the Japanese story and the first French version is, 
 that in the former the elves do not increase the 
 envious man’s protuberance in anger. The result is 
 the same in all the numerous versions above cited. 
 
373 
 
 THE ENCHANTED HORSE. 
 
 rpHE civilising influence of the Moors is still traceable 
 in the manners and customs, the literature and 
 arts, of Spain. From Moorish sources the Spanish 
 romances of chivalry were largely derived, and from 
 Spain tales and fictions, originally imported from the 
 East, spread into France, furnishing rich materials for 
 many fabliaux of the Trouveres. In the thirteenth 
 century a French poet, named Adans, or Adfenis, styled 
 Le Eoi, from his position as chief of the minstrels, 
 composed, in honour of the Princess Mary of Brabant, 
 on her becoming queen of France, a romaunt in verse, 
 entitled ‘ Cleomades,’ of which Count Tressan published 
 extrait in the 'Bibliotheque Universelle des Eomans.’ 
 This work was originally written in Spanish verse, and 
 afterwards rendered into p^se, French as well as 
 Spanish. Its Eastern extraction is unquestionable, and 
 it was probably brought h^he Moors to Spain in the 
 eleventh or twelfth ; ii^tury. Another title of the 
 French metrical versioh of this romance is ' Le Cheval 
 de Fust’ (the Wooden Horse), from the important part 
 
374 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 which a steed of that description plays in it — in fact, 
 it is the tale of the Enchanted Horse in the ' Arabian 
 Nights,’ though there is reason to believe that that 
 fascinating story-book was not then composed, at least 
 in its present form. 
 
 The story seems to have spread rapidly over Europe. 
 Chaucer introduces the Magic Horse in his Squire’s 
 Tale — the '' half-told tale of Cambuscan bold ; ” but in 
 place of a wooden steed it is (quoth Milton) “ a won- 
 drous horse of brass, on which the Tartar king did ride.” 
 The qualities of this steed are thus described by the 
 ambassador who presented it in his royal master's 
 name to Cambynskan,^ seated on his throne and sur- 
 rounded by “ all his liege men so noble of birth ” : 
 
 He saide : The King of Araby and Inde, 
 
 My liege lord, on this solempne ^ day 
 Salewith^ you as he best can or may, 
 
 And sendith you, in honour of your feste. 
 
 By me, that am redy at al your heste, 
 
 This Stede of Brass, that esily and well 
 Can in the space of a day naturell. 
 
 That is to say, in four and twenty hours. 
 
 Where so you liste,^ in droughte or in shours, 
 
 Berin your body into every place 
 Into which your herte willith to pace, 
 
 Withoutin wem^ of you, through foule or faire ; 
 
 Or if you list to flein in the aire 
 As doth an Egle, whan him list to sore. 
 
 This same stede shall here you evirmore, 
 
 Withoutin harme, till you hen there you lest. 
 
 Though that you slepin on his bak and rest, 
 
 1 Not Cambuscan, as Milton writes the name. 
 
 2 Solempne : solemn ; important. ^ Salueth : salutes. 
 
 ^ LisU: please; choose. ^ Wem: harm; risk; danger. 
 
THE ENCHANTED HORSE. 
 
 375 
 
 And toiirn agen with writhing of a pin. 
 
 He that it wrought couth full many a gin 
 He waited many a constellation, ^ 
 
 Ere he had don this operation, 
 
 And knew ful many sele and many bond. 
 ****** 
 
 And aftir supper goth this nobill king 
 To sene this Horse of Brass, with all his rout 
 Of lordis and of ladies him about. 
 
 Soch wondring there was on this Horse of Brass, 
 That sithin^ the grete siege of Troye was, 
 
 There as men wondrid on an horse also, 
 
 Ne was there such a wondrin as was tho.^ 
 
 But finally the king askith the knight 
 The vertue of this coursere and the might. 
 
 And prayid him to tell its governaunce. 
 
 The horse anon gan forth to trip and daunce, 
 Whan that this knight laid hold upon his reine, 
 And seide. Sir, there is no more to seine, 
 
 But when you list to ridin anywhere. 
 
 You mote^ trill a pin stant in his ere. 
 
 Which I shall tellin you between us two, 
 
 Ye mote nempne’ ® him to what place also. 
 
 Or to what contre, that you list to ride. 
 
 But when you come there as you list B abide, 
 Bid him descend, and trill anothir pin 
 (For therin lyth th’ effect of all that gin). 
 
 And he wol down descend, and don your will, 
 And in that place he woll abidin still, 
 
 Though all the world had the contrary sworne. 
 He shall not thennis^ be thro win, ne borne. 
 
 ^ He that made it knew full many an ingenious contrivance. 
 
 2 He observed the motions of the heavenly bodies until a certain 
 conjunction, a lucky hour arrived, which enabled him to endow it with 
 the required magical qualities. 
 
 ^ Sithin: since. ^ Tho: then. ® Moth: must. 
 
 ® Nem'pne^ : name. ^ Thennis : thence. 
 
376 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Or if you listin bid bim thennis gone, 
 
 Trill this pin, and he woll vanish anon 
 Out of the sight of every mannere wight. 
 
 And come agen, be it by day or night. 
 
 Whan that you list to clepin ^ him agene. 
 
 In soch a gise, as I shall to you seine, 
 
 Betwixtin you and me, and that full sone ; 
 
 Eide when you list, there is no more to done. 
 
 Chaucer, apparently, did not finish the story, or if he 
 did so, the greater part of it is now lost. So far as it 
 goes, it has the elements of a charming tale ; — the magic 
 horse ; the mirror that foreshadowed coming evil ; the 
 ring that enabled the wearer to understand the language 
 of birds; and the sword that cured wounds which 
 itself had made.^ Very probably the Tartar king’s 
 younger son Camballo had an adventure with the 
 '' steed of brass ” similar to that of the bold Cleomades, 
 who wooed and won the fair Claremonde, daughter of 
 Cornuant, king of Tuscany, as related in the old 
 Hispano-French romaunt, and to that of the prince 
 in the Arabian tale.^ 
 
 ^ Clepin : call. 
 
 2 The magic mirror may be compared with the ivory tube in the 
 Arabian story of Prince Ahmed and the Peri B^nu. Many Asiatic 
 tales turn upon a knowledge of the language of birds and beasts, which 
 Solomon the sage Hebrew king is said to have possessed in the high- 
 est degree. Chaucer may have derived the idea of the magic sword 
 from the legendary spear of Telephus. 
 
 ^ In the romance of Cleomades, three great princes arrive at Seville 
 as suitors for the three daughters of King Marchabias. They were 
 not only powerful monarchs, but were deeply versed in astronomy, 
 and well skilled in the art of magic. One was Melicandus, king of 
 Barbary ; the second was Bardigans, king of Armenia ; the third, 
 whose name was Croppart, was king of Hungary. This last was ugly 
 
THE ENCHANTED HOESE. 
 
 377 
 
 The Polish wizard Towardowski in later times is 
 popularly credited with riding on a painted horse 
 of his own contrivance, which carried him through 
 the air wheresoever he wished to go. But our own 
 country can boast of a wizard as good — or bad — as 
 Towardowski. Leland, in his Itinerary, informs us 
 that in ancient times one Butter, '‘a man in great 
 favour with his prince, desired to have reward of him 
 of as much land as he could ride over in a day upon a 
 horse of wood; and he did ride over as much as is 
 now Eutlandshire by art-magic, and was afterwards 
 swallowed into the earth.” The usual fate of magi- 
 
 and hump-backed ; his soul was as deformed as his body, and his 
 tongue was pregnant with falsehood. These three kings had met 
 together before they set out for Seville, and had agreed that each 
 should give such a present to the king and queen as would entitle him 
 to ask a gift in return. On their arrival they were received with all 
 becoming honours. King Melicandus presented the royal pair with a 
 man of gold, who held in his hand a trumpet formed of the same 
 metal, made with so much art, that if treason lurked even within a 
 considerable distance of him, he put the trumpet to his mouth and 
 blew a loud and piercing blast. King Bardigans presented a hen and 
 six chickens of gold, so skilfully formed that they seemed to be alive. 
 He placed them on the ground and they instantly began to run about, 
 to peck, and to clap their wings. The hen flew up on the queen’s 
 knee, cackled, and laid a flne pearl in her lap. “ She will do the same 
 every third day,” said Bardigans. All present were lost in admiration 
 of these wonderful gifts. King Croppart now came forward with a 
 large wooden horse, magnificently caparisoned, with pins of steel on 
 his head and shoulders. “ Sire,” said he, in a harsh and discordant 
 voice, “ with the horse which I offer you, one may mount in the air, 
 cross the seas, and travel at the rate of fifty leagues an hour.” There 
 can be little doubt that Cervantes borrowed the idea of the famous 
 steed Clavileho Aligero (‘‘Wooden-pin Wing-bearer”), which figures 
 so ludicrously in ‘Don Quixote,’ from the Spanish version of this 
 romance, not, as he seems to hint, from that of Peter of Provence 
 and the Fair Magalona, in which there is no such magic horse. 
 
378 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 cians is to come to a violent end. The Polish wizard 
 aforesaid was carried up the chimney by the arch- 
 fiend when his ''time” was come. 
 
 There is reason to think that the Arabian tale of the 
 Enchanted Horse was derived from the Persians, who, 
 in their turn, may have adopted the idea of such a 
 steed from Indian fiction. The story of Malik and 
 Shirin in the Persian Tales of a Thousand and One Days, 
 ascribed to the Dervish Mukhlis of Ispahan, in which 
 a flying-machine plays a leading part, and that of the 
 Labourer and the Flying Chair in Jonathan Scott’s 
 'Tales from the Arabic,’ i are certainly clumsy sub- 
 stitutes, as Dr H. H. Wilson has remarked, for the 
 original Indian fiction, in which an adventurer, in love 
 with a princess, personates the deity Vishnu, and ap- 
 propriately rides on a wooden effigy of Garuda, guided 
 by a pin and moving by magic ^ — the prototype of the 
 Enchanted Horse of the Arabian tale, and of other self- 
 moving machines of celebrity in oriental and chivalric 
 romance. 
 
 Sir Eichard F. Burton, however, says that the flying 
 horse of the ' Arabian Nights ’ " is Pegasus, which is a 
 Greek travesty of an Egyptian myth, developed in 
 
 ^ Translated from a fragment of an Arabic manuscript of the 
 ‘ Thousand and One Nights,’ procured in Bengal. The story of the 
 Flying Chair does not occur in any of the three printed texts of the 
 ‘ Nights,’ — the Bdlak, Breslau, and Calcutta. 
 
 ^ ^ Pancha Tantra,’ Book I, Fable 5. — Garuda, the vehicle of Vishnu, 
 is represented as half-man, half -bird ; having the head, wings, talons, 
 and beak of the eagle, and the body and limbs of a man ; his face is 
 white, his wings red, and his body golden. 
 
THE ENCHANTED HOUSE. 
 
 379 
 
 India.” If this be so, we must consider the wooden 
 Garuda (which reappears in the Kalmuk tales of 
 Siddhi Kiir — see anU, p. 281) as an Indian “de- 
 velopment ” of the Egyptian myth, and also the en- 
 chanted horse referred to in connection with Forbidden 
 Eooms (p. 201), together with its Arabian imitation 
 in the story of the Third Calender. It is a popular 
 belief among the Singalese that in the country of the 
 Himalayas, the land of wonders, there are horses and 
 elephants which possess the power of flying through 
 the air.^ 
 
 But more simple things than wooden horses have 
 been endowed with self-moving powers by “ art-magic ” 
 in times of old : for instance, the pestle, in Lucian’s 
 ' Philopseudes ’ (‘ The Liars ’ in Erancklin’s translation), 
 which Pancrates, in want of a servant, caused to fetch 
 water and perform other useful domestic duties. When 
 the Egyptian sorcerer was absent one day, his pupil 
 tried to perform the trick ; but he did not know the 
 charm for stopping the water-carrying pestle, and the 
 house was soon flooded. In despair, he chopped the 
 pestle in two with an axe ; but this only made matters 
 worse, for both halves then set to work to bring water. 
 This incident has been versifled by Goethe, and also 
 by Barham in his ^ Ingoldsby Legends.’ It reappears, 
 under the title of “ The Master and his Pupil ; or, the 
 Magic Book,” in Dr A. C. Fryer’s ' English Fairy Tales 
 from the North Country.’ And with it may be com- 
 ^ See Davy’s ‘ Ceylon,’ p. 197. 
 
380 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 pared the conclusion of the Norwegian tale of the 
 Magic Quern {ante, p. 121), which two of its posses- 
 sors did not know how to stop. 
 
 In the ' Katha Sarit Sagara ’ we read of a demi- 
 goddess who had mechanical dolls made of wood and 
 magically endowed. One of these, on a pin in it being 
 turned, went through the air at her orders, fetched a 
 garland of flowers, and quickly returned; another 
 brought water at will ; another danced ; and yet 
 another conversed. It is curious to And the magic 
 pestle of Lucian’s story reproduced in the Edinburgh 
 tradition of one Major Weir, who had the unenviable 
 reputation of being a wizard, and after his death, at 
 the stake, his house long remained unoccupied : the 
 major’s walking-stick, it seems, answered the purpose 
 of a man-servant, opening the door to visitors, and 
 even going to the tobacconist’s to procure snuff for 
 its master ! 
 
381 
 
 THE DEMON ENCLOSED IN A BOTTLE: CONTRACTS 
 WITH THE EVIL ONE, ETC. 
 
 T^EW readers, I presume, are unfamiliar with the 
 Arabian tale of the Fisherman and the Genii, 
 whom the poor man fished up in his net, confined in 
 a copper vessel by the power of Solomon’s magical 
 signet; how the genii, having been unwittingly re- 
 leased by the fisherman, threatened to destroy his 
 liberator, and the latter adopted a clever plan to 
 entrap the ungrateful monster once more. ''How 
 wast thou in this bottle ? ” asked the fisherman. " It 
 will not contain thy hand or thy foot ; how then can 
 it contain thy body ? ” " Dost thou not believe that 
 
 I was in it ? ” answered the genii. The fisherman 
 said, "I will never believe thee until I see thee in 
 it.” Upon this the genii shook, and became con- 
 densed, and entered the bottle by little and little, 
 until he was all enclosed. 
 
 This idea of a demon being confined in a bottle 
 is derived from a Muslim legend, adapted from the 
 Talmud, regarding the loss and recovery of Solomon’s 
 
382 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 signet -ring. According to the Talmudic , legend, 
 when the building of the Temple was finished, the 
 king of the Demons begged Solomon to set him free 
 from his service, and promised in return to teach him 
 a secret he would be sure to value. Having cajoled 
 Solomon out of possession of his signet-ring, he first 
 fiung the ring into the sea, and then taking up 
 Solomon himself, cast him into a foreign land some 
 400 miles away, where for three weary years he 
 wandered up and down as a vagrant, begging his 
 bread from door to door. In the course of his 
 rambles he came to Mash Kernin, and was so for- 
 tunate as to be appointed head- cook at the palace 
 of the king of Ammon. While employed in this 
 office, Naama, the king’s daughter, fell in love with 
 him, and determining to marry him, eloped with him 
 for refuge to a distant land. One day, as Haama was 
 preparing a fish for dinner, she found in it a ring, 
 and this turned out to be the very ring which the 
 king of the Demons had fiung into the sea, and the 
 loss of which had bewitched the king out of his 
 power and dominion. In the recovery of the ring 
 the king recovered both himself and the throne of 
 his father David. 
 
 The Muhammedan traditionists give the tale with 
 several curious additions, including the Demon in 
 the Bottle. After Solomon had obtained possession 
 of his celebrated magical signet-ring, in which were 
 four jewels presented to him by the lords of the 
 heavens, the air, earth, and water, he first subdued 
 
THE DEMON IN A BOTTLE. 
 
 383 
 
 the demons and genii, all but Iblis (Satan), to whom 
 Allah had promised perfect independence till the day 
 of judgment, and the mighty demon Sakhr, who was 
 concealed in an unknown island of the ocean. It 
 happened that Solomon, in one of his wars against 
 an idolatrous nation, had taken captive the beautiful 
 daughter of the king; and on his return to Jerusalem 
 he placed her in his harem, where she soon acquired 
 such ascendancy over him that he worshipped her 
 false gods, for which great sin he was sorely punished. 
 One day, before going to the bath, he intrusted his 
 signet-ring to the care of his pagan concubine, which 
 being observed by the demon Sakhr, who was hover- 
 ing about the harem unseen, he at once assumed the 
 form of Solomon, and thus obtained the ring from the 
 lady. Solomon’s features, it seems, had in the mean- 
 time undergone such a metamorphosis that his cour- 
 tiers did not recognise him, and drove him from the 
 palace with every mark of indignity ; and while Sakhr 
 sat on the throne, doing all kinds of wickedness, the 
 sage king of Israel, after wandering through foreign 
 lands, took service with a fisherman. At length the 
 conduct of Sakhr — so unlike the mild and beneficent 
 rule of the real Solomon — aroused the suspicion of 
 the royal counsellors that he must be an evil spirit 
 who had assumed the form of their beloved monarch ; 
 and it was resolved to put him to the test, by reading 
 in his presence some passages of the book of the law. 
 Barely had the sacred scroll been opened, and the 
 reading begun, when Sakhr, uttering loud shrieks. 
 
384 
 
 POPULAK . TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 flew out of the palace, and, after throwing the magical 
 signet into the sea, was seen no more. Not long after 
 this occurrence, Solomon, having received from his 
 master two fishes as his day’s wages, on cutting open 
 one of them found in its stomach his signet-ring, and 
 was thus enabled to subdue the demon Sakhr, whom he 
 compelled to enter into a copper vessel, which, hav- 
 ing sealed it with his signet-ring, he cast into the sea, 
 where the demon will remain till the last day.^ Muslim 
 writers often allude to this wonderful exploit of Solo- 
 mon. For instance, in the Persian poetical version of 
 the ‘Book of Sindibad’ (a.d. 1375) we read: “By 
 predominant might he put the demon in the bottle ; 
 the genii howled and whined on account of him;” 
 and again, in the same work: “No sooner had he 
 mounted, than — like a demon that leaps from the bottle 
 — like a lion rushing from the thicket — the elephant 
 darted off with the monarch, and flew with the speed 
 of lightning over hill and dale.” 
 
 In China the same notion prevails, as we learn from 
 Mr Giles’ ‘ Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio,’ 
 where more than one instance occur of dem^ons being 
 enclosed in vessels from which they cannot escape 
 without external assistance. In the story, for example, 
 of the Painted Skin, a female demon hires herself 
 as maid-of-all-work in a certain family ; but her real 
 
 ^ The tale of the Emperor Jovinian, ch. lix. of the ‘Gesta Roman- 
 orum,’ and that of King Robert of Sicily, reproduced by Swan in his 
 notes to the ‘ Gesta,’ seem both to have been derived from the Jewish 
 or the Muslim legend of Solomon’s temporary abasement. 
 
THE DEMON IN A BOTTLE. 
 
 385 
 
 nature is discovered by a priest, who strikes her with 
 his magic sword, upon which she falls down and be- 
 comes a hideous devil. The priest then strikes off her 
 head, and she becomes a dense column of smoke curl- 
 ing up from the ground, when he takes an uncorked 
 gourd and throws it into the midst of the smoke: a 
 sucking noise is heard, and the whole column is drawn 
 into the gourd; after which the priest corks it up 
 closely, and puts it in his pouch.i 
 
 From the Eastern fabulists, no doubt, European 
 story-tellers derived this idea of confining an imp or 
 demon. In the Norse tale of the Master- Smith, the 
 hero, who had sold himself to the devil, contrives to 
 outwit the arch-fiend by the same device as that 
 adopted by the fisherman with the genie. '' Is it true,” 
 asks the master-smith of the devil, when he came to 
 carry him away — “ is it true that you can make your- 
 self as small as you please ? ” The devil answers that 
 
 ^ In Icelandic folk-lore, the ‘‘ Sending ” — a ghost raised up by sor- 
 cery for the purpose of learning from it the mysteries of the future 
 state, and for sending it on malignant missions against an enemy — “ is 
 sometimes induced to assume the form of some small beast or insect, 
 either by taunts or flattery, and to creep into a bottle or into an 
 empty marrow-bone ; and, once there, he is corked up tight for his 
 folly. Sendings thus entrapped are generally cast into morasses, or 
 stowed away in secret hiding-places, where no inquisitive Angers are 
 likely to grope. Woe betide him who, unsuspecting, flnds the mar- 
 row-bone or bottle subsequently, and uncorks it ! The goblin gains 
 ten times his original force by being imprisoned, and ten times his old 
 malignity. Like the genie in Solomon’s lead-sealed urn, which the 
 fisherman, in the ‘ Arabian Nights,’ found and opened, he is apt to 
 treat his liberator with scorn and revenge.” — Powell and Magnusson’s 
 ’ Legends of Iceland.’ Second series. Introd. , p. Ixxvii. 
 
386 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 it is quite true, and to gratify the curiosity of his 
 friend/’ creeps into the smith’s steel purse, where he 
 is confined until he promises never to come back any 
 more. — In Grimm’s ' Kinder und Haus Marchen,’ an 
 old soldier possesses a wonderful knapsack, into which 
 everything must fly which he wishes there. He spends 
 a night in a castle haunted by nine demons, who 
 attack him, and endeavour to expel him, but he wishes 
 them all in his knapsack, and immediately they are 
 there sure enough. Next day, as he trudges along, he 
 comes to a blacksmith’s shop, and placing his magical 
 knapsack on the anvil, he asks the smith and his man 
 to strike it with all their strength with their great 
 hammers. The imps set up a fearful screech, and 
 when all was quiet the knapsack was opened. Eight 
 of them were found quite dead, but the ninth, who had 
 laid himself in a fold, was still living. He slipped 
 out when the knapsack was opened and escaped.” 
 
 This ludicrous incident is related in a different form 
 in the Norse tale of the Lad and the Deil (Dasent’s 
 collection) : Once on a time there was a lad who was 
 walking along a road cracking nuts, so he found one 
 that was worm-eaten, and just at that very moment 
 he met the Deil. Is it true now,” said the lad, 
 ''what they say, that the Deil can make himself as 
 small as he chooses, and thrust himself in through a 
 pin-hole ? ” " Yes, it is,” said the Deil. " Oh, it is, is 
 
 it ? Then let me see you do it, and just creep into 
 this nut,” said the lad. So the Deil did it. Now, 
 when he had crept into the worm’s hole, the lad 
 
THE DEMON IN A BOTTLE. 
 
 387 
 
 stopped it up with a pin. “ Now IVe got you safe I ’’ 
 he said, and put the nut into his pocket. So when 
 he had walked on a bit, he came to a smithy, and he 
 turned in and asked the smith if he’d be good enough 
 to crack that nut for him. ''Ay, that’ll be an easy 
 job,” said the smith, and took his smallest hammer, 
 laid the nut on the anvil, and gave it a blow, but it 
 wouldn’t break. So he took another hammer, a little 
 bigger, but that wasn’t heavy enough either. Then 
 he took one bigger still, but it was still the same 
 story; and so the smith got wroth, and grasped his 
 great sledge-hammer. ‘'Now I’ll crack you to bits,” 
 he said, and let drive at the nut with all his might 
 and main. And so the nut flew to pieces, with a loud 
 bang that blew off half the roof of the smithy, and 
 the whole house creaked and groaned as though it was 
 ready to fall. "Why ! if I don’t think the Deil must 
 have been in that nut ! ” said the smith. " So he was ; 
 you’re quite right,” said the lad, as he went away 
 laughing. 
 
 In a Bohemian version (No. 21 of M. Leger’s col- 
 lection of Slav popular tales), the hero having 
 " bagged ” all the demons who haunted a nobleman’s 
 castle, including Satan himself, whom he had beaten at 
 dice, takes his sack to a smith’s shop, and after they 
 have been well hammered, and promise never to re- 
 turn, sets them at liberty. For many years after this 
 adventure he lived very happily, but at length Death 
 came to fetch him away : folk who are happy do not 
 die willingly, however, so Death was sent into the 
 
388 
 
 POPULAE, TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 sack. A strange result followed; — people and the 
 beasts multiplied like the moss in woods ; everybody 
 wondered what had become of Death ; a great famine 
 occurred, and men shrank up, but did not die. The 
 hero pitied their misery, so he allowed Death to go 
 about his business again, after making him swear 
 never to call for him. In course of time, however, 
 he got tired of life, and set out for heaven. Arrived 
 there, St. Peter refused to admit him, because he had 
 preferred, when he had three wishes to be granted, 
 earthly wealth to the joys of Paradise. Go along,” said 
 the saint, and find those with whom you played at 
 dice.” So he took his way to the nether regions, but 
 when he reached the gate of the infernal city he met 
 one of the devils whom he had formerly put into his 
 sack, and whom the smiths had so terribly mauled 
 This guardian uttered the most awful cries, which 
 roused all his brother devils, and they at once doubled 
 the watchmen at the gate, with orders not to allow 
 the enemy to enter. What was now to be done ? 
 The hero was perplexed. Finally, he returned to St. 
 Peter, and by dint of prayers and tears, the celestial 
 porter admitted him — and he now acts as Peter’s 
 lieutenant. — An Italian variant is found in the ' Novel- 
 lini di S. Stefano,’ in which the hero, Bippo Pipetta, 
 forces Death to enter his magic sack, and keeps him 
 there for a year and a half, during which period there 
 was great joy among the doctors, for none of them lost 
 a patient. 
 
 A prune-tree is substituted for the magic sack in 
 
DEATH AND THE OLD LADY. 
 
 389 
 
 one of M. Carnoy’s collection of French popular tales, 
 entitled ^'La Mort Jouee,’' the substance of which is 
 as follows : In a village of Artois there was an old 
 lady whose greatest pleasure was to relieve the dis- 
 tressed; — no beggar ever quitted her door without 
 some money and white bread. One day a great saint 
 visited this good dame, and told her that he was em- 
 powered to grant her any wish that she should form. 
 After considering a long time, she said, ''I have a fine 
 prune-tree in my garden, and wish that whosoever 
 shall climb up into it shall remain there as long as I 
 please.’’ ''Your wish is certainly a very odd one,” 
 rejoined the saint ; " but so be it,” and bidding the old 
 lady adieu, he returned to heaven. Ten years after 
 this Death came to the charitable dame — she being 
 now, as he reflected, wellnigh eighty years old ; and 
 when she saw him, " Oh, is it you. Death ? ” she said 
 quietly. " I have waited for you long, and shall take 
 my departure without regret. But ah ! I had forgot : 
 I should like to eat some prunes before leaving this 
 world.” So the King of Terrors very obligingly went 
 into the garden, climbed the prune-tree, and having 
 gathered a quantity of prunes, was about to come down, 
 when the old lady exclaimed, "It is my will that 
 Death shall not descend without my permission.” In 
 vain did Death threaten and pray by turns ; he could 
 not come down. During six months no one died. 
 The sick who were racked with pain besought Death 
 to put an end to their misery, but Death was helpless. 
 And most unhappy of all were the doctors, who could 
 
390 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 not contrive to bring Death to release their patients. 
 One of them, a great friend of Death, went to help him 
 down from the tree, but he too was firmly fixed beside 
 him ! At length the dame took her embargo off the 
 King of Terrors, and down he came to resume his old 
 business. Dinally, the old lady, becoming very feeble, 
 called for Death, and was straightway admitted into 
 Paradise.^ 
 
 Another story in M. Carnoy’s collection (Part ii., Ko. 
 12), ‘Les trois Souhaits,’ is a variant of the Bohemian 
 tale of the Happy Shepherd cited above: A soldier 
 named Tholome obtains from his captain three months’ 
 furlough, together with a present of three pounds of 
 bread and six liards. On the way homeward he is 
 accosted by an old woman, who asks him for alms, 
 and he gives her a pound of bread. Next an old man 
 comes up to him, saying he has not eaten anything 
 for two days, and Tholome gives him a pound of 
 bread, and the remainder he bestows on a third 
 beggar. Meeting with three other mendicants in 
 succession, he gives each two liards. Then the last 
 of these (perhaps we are to understand that all six 
 were one and the same individual) changed himself 
 into a bright genie, and appearing before Tholome, 
 told him that in reward of his charitable deeds he 
 should have three wishes accomplished.^ '' In that 
 
 1 ‘ Contes Frangais. ’ Recueillis par E. Henri Carnoy. Paris : 1885. 
 
 2 The obtaining by supernatural means of the accomplishment of^ 
 three wishes is a favourite subject of popular fictions, and the various 
 forms in which the notion is treated are very numerous. Perhaps 
 the oldest form is found in the several Eastern texts of the ‘ Book of 
 
THE THREE WISHES. 
 
 391 
 
 case/’ says the soldier, '' I wish in the first place that 
 any one who shall sit on the bench at the door of my 
 house shall remain there as long as I please ; secondly, 
 that whosoever mounts our cherry-tree shall continue 
 there until I give him leave to come down ; and 
 thirdly, that I may confine any person I please in 
 my purse.” '' So be it,” said the genie, and dis- 
 appeared. Tholome then resumed his journey, and 
 reaching home, warmly embraced his grandfather 
 (both his parents were dead), and soon after married 
 one of his fair cousins. His three months’ leave of 
 absence having expired, one fine day comes a gen- 
 darme to conduct him back to his regiment. I am 
 quite ready to go with you,” says Tholome; ''only 
 suffer me to bid my poor grandfather farewell ; — 
 meanwhile do you rest yourself on this bench.” 
 When Tholome came out the gendarme attempted 
 to rise from the bench, but found himself fixed to it ; 
 and he had to promise Tholome six months’ additional 
 leave before being released. When his second fur- 
 lough was expired there came another gendarme to 
 fetch Tholome, who desired him to go and help him- 
 self to some cherries from the tree in the garden, 
 while he embraced his grandfather; and he had to 
 grant Tholome a year’s leave before he was allowed 
 to descend from the tree. At the end of the year, 
 a third gendarme came, who had the wonderful and 
 
 Sindibad,’ where a dervish is granted three wishes, and, acting by his 
 wife’s advice, finds himself, when his third wish is accomplished, no 
 better than before. 
 
392 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 very useful power of elongating his body so that he 
 could reach the top of the cherry-tree standing on the 
 ground. “This is very clever,” says our hero; “but 
 can you also make yourself as small as you please ? ” 
 Upon this the gendarme changed himself into a fly, 
 and alighted on Tholome’s arm, who instantly clapped 
 him into his purse. “ Let me out ! let me out ! ” cried 
 the gendarme, “ and you shall have unlimited leave of 
 absence.” So Tholome set him free, and after this 
 lived many years in peace and happiness.^ 
 
 A Dutch version of the same story occurs in a work 
 entitled 'The Gondola,’ by Harry Stoe Vandyck, pub- 
 lished at London in 1827: One dark evening in winter 
 a tall stranger entered the hut of Jan Schalken, a 
 kind-hearted fisherman, and sought a night’s lodging, 
 to which he was made welcome. In the morning, 
 when the “ mysterious stranger ” was about to depart, 
 in requital of Jan’s hospitality, he promised him the 
 gratification of three wishes. Jan had little faith in 
 his promise, but thought he might as well put it to 
 the test. So he first desired that he and his wife 
 Mietje should live fifty years longer than nature had 
 designed. “It shall be done,” said the stranger. 
 Whilst he was puzzling his brain for a second wish, 
 he bethought him that a pear-tree, which was in his 
 little garden, had been frequently despoiled of its 
 fruit, to the no small injury of the tree and grievous 
 disappointment of the owner; so he said, “Lor my 
 
 1 A parallel to this and the preceding tale is found in Miss Busk’s 
 ‘ Folk-Lore of Rome,’ pp. 180-183. 
 
THE THREE WISHES. 
 
 393 
 
 second wish, grant that whoever climbs my pear-tree 
 shall not have power to leave it until my permission 
 be given.’’ This was also assented to. Now Schalken 
 was a sober man, and liked to sit down and chat with 
 his wife of an evening ; but she was a bustling body, 
 and often jumped up in the midst of a story that she 
 had heard only a dozen times, to scrub the table or set 
 their clay platters in order. Nothing disturbed him 
 so much as this, and he was determined, if possible, to 
 prevent a repetition of the annoyance. With this ob- 
 ject in view he approached the stranger, and in a low 
 whisper told him his third and last wish, that whoever 
 sat in a certain chair in his hut should not be able to 
 move out of it until it should please him so to order. 
 This wish was also agreed to by the traveller, who, 
 after many greetings, departed on his way. Years 
 passed on, and Jan had often fully gratified his two 
 wishes, by detaining thieves in his tree and his wife 
 in her chair, till the time came when he was seventy- 
 nine and his wife seventy-three years of age. Death 
 arrived at the hut one evening, dressed like a gentle- 
 man, and told them that by rights they should both 
 be his on that day, but since a fifty years’ respite had 
 been granted, he should not call again till that period 
 was expired. For the next fifty years Jan and his 
 wife lived on as quietly as before, and when the fatal 
 day at length arrived. Death kept his appointment. 
 As Jan and Mietje were accompanying Death, they 
 passed by the pear-tree in the garden, and J an per- 
 suaded Death to climb the tree and gather some fruit 
 
394 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 for their journey, but there he was stuck fast till he 
 granted that they should live another half century. 
 When Death came again, he was induced to sit down 
 in the enchanted chair, and was only released on 
 promising a further respite of fifty years, at the end 
 of which period Jan Schalken and his wife died 
 peacefully in their bed. 
 
 In stories of this class, the wishes are granted indif- 
 ferently by Jesus, St. Peter, or the Evil One; in the 
 last case, the Arch-Enemy is to have the soul of the 
 possessor of the wishes at the expiry of a certain per- 
 iod, but his crafty devices are invariably turned to his 
 own discomfiture. Thus in a Tuscan version a smith 
 contracts with the devil to sell his soul for two years 
 of life, and is granted that whosoever should sit on a 
 bench near the fire must stay there so long as the 
 smith pleases ; that whosoever should look out of the 
 window cannot go away without the smith’s leave ; 
 and that whosoever should climb his fig-tree must 
 remain there till the smith permits him to come down. 
 When the two years are expired, the devil comes to 
 fetch the smith away, and is asked to sit on the bench 
 till the smith has finished the job at which he is work- 
 ing, which the devil unthinkingly does ; and the smith 
 blew up such a fire that even the devil could not endure 
 it, and he was fain to grant two more years to the 
 smith in order to be set free. The same happens when 
 he comes again and is asked to look out of the window ; 
 and when he returns a third time and is induced to 
 climb the fig-tree, he has perforce to cancel the con- 
 
THE THREE WISHES. 
 
 395 
 
 tract and sign a new one, by which it is solemnly 
 agreed that the smith and he should never meet again.^ 
 There is a curious Italian variant, also from Tuscany, 
 entitled ‘'Grandfather Misery,’’ in which Jesus and 
 St. Peter having received from the hero some polenta, 
 he is granted in return three favours : the bench near 
 the fire ; the fig-tree ; and finally, out of regard to St. 
 Peter, the salvation of his soul. Death comes, and is 
 invited to sit by the fire, and he would soon be ready. 
 But Death, thin as he is, could not stand the heat ; so 
 he granted him a hundred years more of life. When 
 Death again comes to fetch him, he is induced to climb 
 the fig-tree to pick a few figs for the journey, and is 
 not allowed to come down till he consents to another 
 lease of a century to the hero. The third time Death 
 comes, “ Give me time,” says his intended victim, “ to 
 say an Ave Maria.” “ You shall have it,” says Death. 
 But the old fellow seemed in no hurry to begin or finish 
 his Ave Maria, and Death bade him make haste. “ You 
 have given me time, and I am taking it,” said Grand- 
 father Misery, who still lives, for Misery never ends.^ 
 
 It was formerly believed by Muslim doctors that 
 evil spirits could be subdued and confined in bottles 
 by means of fasting and prayers. This notion had its 
 origin, doubtless, in the Eabbinical legends of Solomon’s 
 
 ^ This story finds its exact parallel in an Irish legend, related (I 
 think) in one of Carleton’s books. 
 
 See Crane’s ‘Italian Popular Tales,’ pp. 221, 222, and notes. 
 
396 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 power over demons and genii {jinn ) ; and the Eabbins 
 borrowed most of their wild tales of diaUerie from the 
 Zoroastrians of ancient Persia, and perhaps partly also 
 from the Hindus. According to the Vinculum spiri- 
 tuum, a work of Eastern extraction, Solomon, having 
 discovered the secret of subduing demons, confined no 
 fewer than three millions of them, together with 
 seventy-two of their kings, in a bottle of black glass, 
 which he then threw into a deep well near Babylon.^ 
 But it happened that the citizens of Babylon, descend- 
 ing into this well, in expectation of finding treasure, 
 and breaking the bottle, liberated the demons. — Le 
 Sage borrowed the leading idea of his well-known 
 novel, ‘ Le Diable Boiteux,’ ^ from a Spanish work, 
 by Guevara, entitled 'El Diable Cojuelo,’ written in 
 1641, in which a student, named Don Cleofas, "hav- 
 ing accidentally entered the abode of an astrologer, 
 delivers from a glass bottle, in which he had been 
 confined by the conjuror, the demon called Diable 
 Cojuelo, who is a spirit nearly of the same descrip- 
 tion as the Asmodee of Le Sage, and who, in return 
 for the service he had received from the scholar, 
 
 1 The magic of Babylon is frequently alluded to by Muslim writers ; 
 the poets speak of the “ Babylonian witchery ” of a beautiful woman’s 
 eyes ; and it is believed that the two wicked angels, Hdrut and M^rut, 
 mentioned in the Kuran (see chap. ii. and Sale’s note), are still hanging, 
 head downwards, in a well at Babel, and will instruct any one who is 
 bold enough to go and solicit them. Setting idle legends aside, it is 
 highly probable, as Sir W. Ouseley remarks, that at Babylon the Per- 
 sians learnt the arts of magical incantation from the conquered Chalde- 
 ans. — Notes to my privately -printed edition of the ‘ Bakhty^r N^ma.’ 
 
 2 The English translation is entitled ‘The Devil upon Two Sticks.’ 
 
THE DEVIL ON TWO STICKS. 
 
 397 
 
 exhibits to him the interior of the houses of Madrid.” 
 Mr J. 0. Halliwell (now Halliwell-Phillipps), in his 
 ' Fugitive Tracts and Chap Books/ printed for the 
 Percy Society (vol. xxix.), describes a very rare tract 
 which was evidently also derived from the Spanish 
 romance. It is entitled '' The Devil upon Two Sticks, 
 or the Town Untikd unroofed] ; with the comical 
 humours of Don Stulto and Seignor Jingo; as it is 
 acted in Pinkeman’s booth in May Fair. Printed by 
 J. E., near Fleet Street, 1708.” The tract, we learn, 
 consists of only four leaves, and the title is illustrated 
 by a woodcut of Don Stulto escaping from an intrigue, 
 and finding himself in the chamber of an astrologer at 
 Madrid. '' He saw books and papers in confusion on 
 the table, spheres and compasses on the one side, and 
 vials and quadrants on the other. Presently he heard 
 a deep sigh break out just by him, which a little 
 startled him. He took it at first for a nocturnal illu- 
 sion or imaginary phantom, but hearing a second sigh, 
 it made him cry out, ‘What devil is it which sighs 
 here.’ ‘ ’Tis I, Seignor Stulto,’ answers a voice ; ‘ I 
 have been three years enclosed in one of these bottles. 
 In this house lives a skilful magician, who, by the 
 power of his art, has kept me so long shut up in this 
 close prison.’ ” The demon is liberated, and represented 
 as “a very surprising figure, about three feet and a 
 half high, resting upon two crutches, with goat’s legs 
 and a long visage, sharp chin, a yellow and black com- 
 plexion, a very flat nose, and eyes that seemed like two 
 lighted coals.” 
 
398 
 
 “THE RING AND THE FISH” LEGENDS: MEN LIVING 
 INSIDE MONSTROUS FISH. 
 
 QOLOMON’S recovery of his magical signet-ring 
 ^ from the stomach of a fish, according to the Tal- 
 mudic legends, finds many parallels in the popular 
 tales of Europe, and the Eabbins perhaps borrowed the 
 idea from the classical story of Poly crates, which must 
 be so generally known that it need hardly be cited 
 here, excepting for its connection with similar stories. 
 Polycrates, king of Samos, having made a treaty of 
 alliance with Amasis, king of Egypt, the latter, terri- 
 fied by his continued prosperity, advised him to chequer 
 his enjoyments by relinquishing some of his most 
 cherished possessions. Polycrates complied by throw- 
 ing into the sea a magnificent ring, the most valuable 
 of his jewels. The voluntary loss of so precious an 
 object afflicted him for some time, but a few days after 
 he received a present of a large fish, in whose stomach 
 the jewel was found. Amasis no sooner heard of this 
 than he rejected all alliance with Poly crates, observing 
 that sooner or later his good fortune would be reversed. 
 
KING-AND-FISH LEGENDS. 
 
 399 
 
 The plot of the noble Hindu drama of ‘ Sakiintala/ by 
 Kalidasa, turns upon the same incident. In Act vi. 
 a fisherman offers for sale a ring bright with a large 
 gem,’’ on which the king’s name is engraved, and, 
 being arrested by the police, tells them that one day, 
 having caught a large rdhita fish, I cut it open, and saw 
 this bright ring in its stomach.” The ring had been 
 given by the king to Sakiintala, whom he had 
 married by the Gandharva form while on a hunting 
 expedition, and after his return to his capital, alto- 
 gether forgot her, and its recovery at once brings 
 her back to his recollection, and the lovers are fin- 
 ally united.^ 
 
 A story is told in the Talmud of a wealthy but irre- 
 ligious man, who was informed by an astrologer that 
 all his riches should one day come into the possession 
 of his neighbour Joseph, a poor man, but very strict in 
 his observance of the Sabbath. Eesolved to set the 
 stars at defiance, this man disposed of all his property, 
 and purchased with the proceeds a large diamond, 
 which he sewed into his turban, and then embarked in 
 a vessel bound for a distant country. Standing on the 
 deck, his turban was blown into the sea, — and how he 
 fared after the loss of all his wealth the Talmudist 
 does not inform us ; but it happened shortly after this 
 accident that the pious Joseph, having bought a fish 
 and taken it home to have it cooked on the Sabbath 
 
 ^ In the ‘ Mahdbh^rata ’ — Last Days of the Sons of Pdndu — we 
 read that a piece of iron was found in the belly of a fish and made 
 into an arrow-head, with which Krishna was slain. 
 
400 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 eve, found in its stomach the very diamond which his 
 neighbour had lost with his turban. 
 
 The legend of Kentigern, or St Mungo, the patron 
 saint of the city of Glasgow, is another of the ring 
 legends which abound in European folk-lore. ''A 
 queen, having formed an improper attachment to a 
 handsome soldier, put upon his finger a precious ring 
 which her own lord had conferred upon her. The 
 king, made aware of the fact, took an opportunity, in 
 hunting, while the soldier lay asleep beside the Clyde, 
 to snatch off the ring and throw it into the river. 
 Then, returning home along with the soldier, he 
 demanded of the queen the ring he had given her. 
 She sent secretly to the soldier for the ring, which 
 could not be restored. In great terror she then 
 despatched a messenger to ask the assistance of Kenti- 
 gern. He, who knew of the affair before being in- 
 formed of it, went to the river Clyde, and having 
 caught a salmon, took from its stomach the missing 
 ring, which he sent to the queen. She joyfully went 
 with it to the king, who, thinking he had wronged her, 
 swore he would be revenged upon her accusers ; but she 
 affecting a forgiving temper, besought him to pardon 
 them, as she had done. At the same time she con- 
 fessed her error to Kentigern, and solemnly vowed to 
 be more careful of her conduct in the future.’’ ^ 
 
 A poor man finds a valuable diamond in a fish, in 
 a North German legend entitled ''The Three Gifts.” 
 Three students becoming acquainted with a poor 
 ^ Chambers’s ‘ Book of Days,’ vol. i., pp. 105, 106. 
 
RING-AND-FISH LEGENDS. 
 
 401 
 
 weaver, gave him a hundred dollars. He did not even 
 tell his wife of his good fortune, but concealed the 
 money among some old rags, which his wife one day 
 sold to a rag-collector. When a year had passed, tlie 
 three students came again, and finding the man poorer 
 than before, when they expected he would be in com- 
 fortable circumstances, they asked him the reason, and 
 he informed them of his misfortune. Warning him to 
 be more careful for the future, they gave him another 
 hundred dollars. Now he resolved to be more prudent, 
 and so, without saying a word to his wife, he hid the 
 money in the dust-tub, the contents of which his wife 
 exchanged with the dustman for a few pieces of soap, 
 in her husband’s absence. Another year having 
 passed, the three students came for the third time, and 
 found the weaver in rags and misery. They said to 
 him, at the same time throwing a piece of lead at his 
 feet, Of what use is a nutmeg to a cow ? To give 
 thee money again would prove us greater fools than 
 thou art.” Thereupon they went aw^ay in anger, and 
 the weaver picked up the piece of lead and placed it 
 in the window-sill. By-and-by his neighbour, a fish- 
 erman, came to him, and inquired whether he could 
 lend him a piece of lead, or anything heavy, as a 
 sinker for his net. He gave the fisherman the bit of 
 lead which the students had thrown at his feet, and 
 was promised the first large fish he caught. He re- 
 ceived from the fisherman a fish of four or five pounds 
 weight, and when he opened it he found in its stomach 
 a large stone, which in the dark shone like the 
 VOL. I. 2 c 
 
402 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 snn.^ It was a diamond, and the weaver sold it to 
 a merchant who chanced to be passing for 1000 dol- 
 lars, and then became the richest man in the village. 
 His wife would have it that his good fortune was 
 entirely due to her having thrown away the money 
 twice.^ 
 
 An exact parallel to this legend is found in the 
 Arabian tale of the poor ropemaker, whom two bene- 
 volent gentlemen wished to assist in his business. One 
 of them, believing that without money no one could 
 attain wealth, gave the poor man twice a sum of 
 money. Of the first sum, he spent a portion in buy- 
 ing hemp, and wrapped the remainder in his turban, 
 which a kite snatched off his head one day; of the 
 second sum given him the following year, when the 
 two friends came to see how the money had been 
 spent, he again used a part in the purchase of hemp, 
 and placed the balance in a pot, which he then filled 
 with sand. His wife sold the sand, pot and all, to a 
 sand-merchant. The third year the two friends came 
 again, when he told them of his second mishap, which 
 the gentleman who gave the money did not believe. 
 The other, who was of opinion that it is vain to strive 
 if destiny is not in our favour, gave the ropemaker a 
 piece of lead. As in the German tale, a fisherman 
 borrows the lead as a sinker for his lines, and gives 
 him by way of acknowledgment a fish, which contains 
 a splendid diamond. This the ropemaker sells to a 
 
 ^ See Note, “Luminous Jewels,” p. 412. 
 
 2 Thorpe’s ‘Yule-Tide Stories,’ p. 463 of Bohn’s edition. 
 
EING-AND-FISH LEGENDS. 
 
 403 
 
 Jew, who lived next door, for a great sum of money, 
 and he now begins business on a '' large scale.” At 
 the end of the fourth year the two friends come again, 
 and find that he has removed to more commodious 
 premises.” He tells them the cause of his success in 
 trade, and before they leave, strange to say (that is, 
 outside of an oriental romance), his turban with the 
 money is found in a tree, the kite having made a nest 
 of it, and the pot of sand with the money originally 
 placed in it has again found its way into his own 
 warehouse, thus proving the truth of his stories. 
 
 Strange things are certainly found sometimes in the 
 stomachs of large fish, occasionally even rings and 
 gems — for they greedily seize and swallow any glitter- 
 ing object; but the ring-legends of all countries are 
 for the most part mere inventions. The story of 
 Kentigern is an evident imitation of Christ’s miracle, 
 of causing a fish to be caught, in whose stomach was 
 found money wherewith to pay tribute to Caesar.^ 
 
 If such tales as those above cited, of wonderful 
 finds ” in the maws of fish, may be admitted to be 
 probable or possible, the equally wide-spread and 
 
 ^ The old ballad of ^ The Cruel Knight and the Fortunate Farmer’s 
 Daughter ’ turns upon the discovery of a ring in the stomach of a fish ; 
 a legend "which is alluded to in Ly son’s ‘Environs of London,’ and 
 which forms the basis of a novel entitled ‘ Dame Rebecca Berry ; or, 
 Court Scenes in the reign of Charles II.,’ published at London in 1827. 
 
404 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 ancient legends of men having been swallowed by 
 monster fish and escaping after living therein — not 
 merely the three days and three nights ’’ of the 
 prophet Jonah’s similar experience, but sometimes for 
 several years — are so incredible that we must con- 
 clude, either that they had originally an esoteric sig- 
 nification, and are variants of a ''nature myth,” or 
 that they are the mere offspring of the untutored 
 fancy. Stories of this class are common to the folk- 
 lore of Asiatic countries, but they were not unfamiliar 
 in medieval Europe, if we may judge from a specimen 
 found in one of the early English versions of the 
 ' Gesta Eomanorum.’ The king of Naples sends his 
 daughter in a ship to be married to the son of the 
 Emperor of Eome: 
 
 " And whenne thei were in the shippe, and hadde 
 passid fro the londe, there rose vp a gret horribill 
 tempest, and draynt all that were in the ship, except 
 the mayde. Thenne the mayde sette all hire hope 
 strongly in God ; and at the laste, the tempest sesid ; 
 but ther folowid strongly a gret whale, to devoure 
 this maide. And whenne she saw that, she moche 
 dradde ; and whan the nyght com, the maide dredyng 
 that the whale wolde haue swolowide the ship, smot 
 fire at a stone, and had gret plente of fire. And as 
 long as the fire laste, the whale dorst come no nere, 
 but abowte cockis crowe the mayde, for gret vexacion 
 that she hadde with the tempest, fell on slepe, and in 
 hire slep the fire went out. And when it was out the 
 whale com nye, and swolowid both the ship and the 
 
MEN SWALLOWED BY MONSTER FISH. 
 
 405 
 
 mayde. And when the mayde felte that she was in 
 the wombe of the whale, she smot, and made a gret 
 fire, and greuously wondid the whale with a littill 
 knyfe, in so moche that he drowe to the lond, and 
 deyde. For that is the kynde, to drawe to the londe 
 when he shall dye. And in this tym ther was an 
 Erie namyd Pirius, and he walkid in his disport by 
 the see, and afore him he sawe the whale come toward 
 the lond. He gaderid gret helpe and strenght of 
 men ; [and] with diuerse instrumentis thei smote the 
 whale in euery part of hym. And when the dame- 
 sell hurde the gret strokys, she cryde with an hye 
 voys, and saide, Gentill siris, havith pite of me, for I 
 am the dowter of a king, and a mayde haue y-ben sith 
 I was borne. Whenne the Erie hurde this, he mer- 
 veilid gretly, and openyd the whale, and toke out the 
 damesell. Thenne the maide tolde by ordr how that 
 she was a kyngys dowter, and howe she loste hir 
 goodes in the see, and how she sholde be maryed to the 
 Emperour. And when the Erie hurde theise wordis, 
 he was glad, and helde the maide with him a gret 
 while, till tyme that she was wele confortid; and 
 thenne he sent hire solemply to the Emperour.”^ 
 
 To say the least, this '' story ” is not very consist- 
 ent in its details: all those on board the ship were 
 drowned, excepting the maiden, after which both she 
 and the vessel were swallowed by a great whale ” ; 
 but how the others came to be drowned without the 
 
 ^ Herrtage’s ‘Gesta Romanorum’ (Early English Text Society), 
 pp. 297-299. 
 
406 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 ship being broken in pieces the credulous monkish 
 chronicler does not condescend to inform us : and 
 since the maiden told the noble who rescued her from 
 the animahs internal economy that she had lost all 
 her goods by the misadventure, we must suppose that 
 the whale had digested ship and cargo. 
 
 The story may have been suggested by Lucian’s 
 'Vera Historia,’ Book i., where a monster fish swal- 
 lows a ship, and the crew discover extensive countries 
 in the creature’s inside.^ Sindbad, of 'Arabian Mghts ’ 
 celebrity, among other perils he encountered in his 
 frequent voyages to unknown parts, narrowly escaped 
 the like fate : his vessel was surrounded by enormous 
 fish, one of which darted down to swallow the ship 
 and all that was in her ; but a tempest drove her on 
 a reef and broke her to pieces — the hero reaching the 
 shore, as usual, with the aid of a plank. It is sur- 
 prising that the historian of Sindbad’s trading career 
 has not represented him as having been actually swal- 
 lowed — himself, at least — by the sea-monster that thus 
 threatened the destruction of the ship and all that was 
 in her ; — the incident could hardly fail of proving to 
 most readers an interesting addition to the marvels so 
 minutely described by the Arabian story-teller. 
 
 ^ Possibly Rabelais had this most veracious incident in mind when 
 he represented the renowned Pantagruel as eating a salad one day, 
 and unwittingly taking into his mouth half a dozen pilgrims who 
 had sheltered themselves under the leaves. By skipping about with 
 their staves the unlucky pilgrims manage to avoid contact with his 
 grinders, till at last one of them chances to strike the cleft of a de- 
 cayed tooth ; the pain which this occasions makes him search his 
 mouth, and the devotees are delivered. 
 
MEN SWALLOWED BY MONSTER FISH. 
 
 407 
 
 More judicious was the Hindu author in his story of 
 Saktideva’s adventures in quest of the Golden City. 
 That hero sets out in the vessel of a merchant with 
 whom he had scraped acquaintance, and this is what 
 happened to him : When they had but a short dis- 
 tance to travel, there arose a black cloud with rum- 
 
 f 
 
 bling thunder, resembling a roaring rakshasa, with 
 flickering lightning to represent his lolling tongue. 
 And a furious hurricane began to blow like Destiny 
 herself, whirling up light objects and hurling down 
 heavy.i And from the sea, lashed by the wind, great 
 waves rose aloft like the mountains equipped with 
 wings, indignant that their asylum had been attacked. 
 And that vessel rose on high one moment, and the 
 next moment plunged below, as if exhibiting how rich 
 men are first elevated and then cast down. And the 
 next moment that ship, shrilly laden with the cries of 
 
 ^ That is to say, Destiny often elevates the worthless, and hurls 
 down men of worth. — Compare Defoe, in his scathing reply to Lord 
 Haversham’s Vindication of his Speech : “ Fate makes footballs of 
 men; kicks some up -stairs and some down; — some are advanced 
 without honour, others suppressed without infamy ; some are raised 
 without merit, some are crushed without crime ; — and no man knows, 
 by the beginning of things, whether his course will issue in a peerage 
 or a pillory.” And these passages from the drama of “Mrichchakata,” 
 or the Toy-Cart (Dr H. H. Wilson’s ‘ Theatre of the Hindus ’ ) : 
 
 ‘ ‘ Fate views the world 
 A scene of mutual and perpetual struggle ; 
 
 And sports with life as if it were a wheel 
 That draws the limpid water from the well ; 
 
 For some are raised to aiSuence, some depressed 
 In want, and some are borne awhile aloft. 
 
 And some hurled down to wretchedness and woe.” 
 
 “ O Fate ! thou sportest with the fortunes of mankind, 
 
 Like drops of water trembling on the lotus-leaf.” 
 
408 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 the merchants, burst and split asunder, as if with the 
 weight. And the ship being broken, that merchant 
 its owner fell into the sea, but floating through it on 
 a plank, he at last reached another vessel. But as 
 Saktideva fell, a large fish, opening its mouth and 
 neck, swallowed him without injuring any of his 
 limbs. And as that fish was roaming at will in the 
 midst of the sea, it happened to pass near the island 
 of Utsthala ; and by chance some servants of the king 
 of the fishermen, Satyavrata, who were engaged in the 
 pursuit of small fish, came there and caught it. And 
 those fishermen, proud of their prize, immediately 
 dragged it along to show their king, for it was of 
 enormous size. He too, out of curiosity, seeing that it 
 was of such extraordinary size, ordered his servants to 
 cut it open ; and when it was cut open, Saktideva came 
 out alive from its belly, having endured a second 
 wonderful imprisonment in the womb.’’ ^ 
 
 A similar accident befell Ahla, the celebrated 
 Bundel’-khand hero : '' The Banaphals went once to 
 Hardwar to hunt. When they arrived near the hunt- 
 ing-ground, Ahla went into the Ganges to bathe, and 
 was then and there swallowed by a monstrous fish. 
 His friends searched for him. While they were 
 lamenting, Machhlavatf, the daughter of the king 
 
 ^ ‘ Katha Sarit Sagara,’ chap. xxv. — In another story, chap. Ixxiv., a 
 Brahman named Sankhadatta relates how he was swallowed by a very 
 large fish in the Ganges, and remained for a long time inside ‘‘ the 
 capacious habitation of its stomach,” eating its flesh, which he cut 
 ofi* with a knife, until the waves cast the fish upon the bank, and some 
 men, having killed it, drew him out. 
 
MEN SWALLOWED BY MONSTER FISH. 
 
 409 
 
 Eagho Machli of Hardwar, came there with her com- 
 panions to bathe. Hearing the lamentations of Ahla’s 
 friends, she sent for a fisherman, who, throwing his 
 net into the river, brought the fish to land. On its 
 belly being split open, Ahla issued therefrom unhurt. 
 Thereupon they all set out for Machhlavatfs house, 
 and Ahla engaged himself to marry her and her friend 
 Subhna.” ^ 
 
 But a proud king, in a Kashmiri tale, who had lost 
 his kingdom, and was swept away by a swift river 
 which he attempted to wade across, had a sojourn of 
 many years inside a great fish. Meanwhile his two 
 little sons had been found on the banks of the river, 
 and adopted by a kind-hearted fisherman and his wife. 
 '' One day it happened that an enormous fish threw 
 itself on the bank of the river, and could not get back 
 into the water. Everybody in the village went to see 
 the monster and cut off a slice of it. A few people 
 also went from the neighbouring villages, and amongst 
 them was a maker of earthenware. His wife had heard 
 of the great fish, and urged him to go and get some 
 of the flesh. Accordingly he went, although the hour 
 was late. On arriving he found nobody there, as all 
 the people had satisfied themselves and returned. 
 The potter took an axe with him, thinking that the 
 bones would be so thick as to require its aid before 
 they could be broken. When he struck the first blow 
 a voice came out of the fish, as of some one in pain. 
 The potter was very much surprised. ' Perhaps,’ 
 
 ^ “Legend of Ahld,” in ‘Indian Antiquary,’ September 1885. 
 
410 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 thought he, ' the fish is possessed by a bhiit. Ill 
 try again ; ’ whereupon he struck another blow. 
 Again a voice came forth from the fish, saying, 
 'Woe is me! woe is me!’ On hearing this the 
 potter thought, 'Well, this is not a bhiit evidently, but 
 the voice of an ordinary man. Ill cut the flesh care- 
 fully. May be that I shall find some poor distressed 
 person.’ He began to cut away the flesh carefully, and 
 presently he descried a man’s foot ; then the legs 
 appeared ; then the body, all entire. ' Praise be to 
 God ! ’ he cried aloud, ' the soul is in him yet.’ He 
 carried the man to his house as fast as he could, and 
 there did everything in his power to recover him; 
 and the joy of the potter and his wife was great when 
 they saw that the stranger was revived.” ^ This was 
 the once-proud king, who had lived so long in the 
 inside of the monster fish. 
 
 In one of Miss Stokes’ 'Indian Fairy Tales,’ the 
 heroine, " Loving Laili,” lives twelve years in a Eohita 
 fish; and in another, in the same entertaining story- 
 book (which is rendered so useful to story comparers 
 by Mr Ralston’s learned Introduction to it), a crocodile 
 is substituted for a fish (No. 12) : A man started off to 
 the river, and began drawing up water in a bucket. 
 " Stop, stop ! ” cried an alligator, who was the king of 
 the fishes ; " you are taking all the water out of the 
 river, and my fishes will die.” The man replied, " I 
 want money, and I can find none ; so I am taking the 
 
 1 a Pride Abased : a Kashmiri Tale,” by the Rev. J. Hinton 
 Knowles, in ‘Indian Antiquary,’ June 1886 . 
 
MEN SWALLOWED BY MONSTER FISH. 
 
 411 
 
 water out of the river in order to get some ’’ [by selling 
 it]. ‘‘You shall have some in a minute,” said the. 
 alligator ; “ only do stop drawing the water.” Then a 
 great wave of water dashed on to the land, and dashed 
 back into the river, leaving behind it a heap of 
 gold, which the man picked up joyfully. The next 
 day he came again, and night and day he drew water 
 out of the river. At last the alligator got very angry 
 and said, “ My fishes will all die for want of water. 
 Once I gave the man a heap of gold, and yet he wants 
 more. I won’t give him any,” and the alligator thrust 
 up his head out of the river and swallowed the man 
 whole. For four days and four nights the man lived 
 in the alligator’s stomach. At the end of the fourth 
 night the king of the fishes said to him, “ I will let 
 you get out of my stomach on condition that you tell 
 no man what has happened to you. If you do, you 
 will die instantly.” The man jumped out of the 
 alligator’s mouth and walked towards his house. On 
 his way he met some men, and told them what had 
 happened to him ; and as soon as he got home he told 
 his wife and children, and the moment he had done so 
 he became mad and dumb, and blood came out of his 
 mouth, and he fell down dead. 
 
412 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 Luminous Jewels (p. 402). 
 
 In the ‘ Gesta Eomanorum/ chap, cvii., a carbuncle supplies 
 the place of sunlight. Whether a carbuncle doth flame in the 
 dark,” says Sir Thomas Browne, in his ‘Vulgar Errors,’ “or 
 shine like a coal in the night, though generally agreed on by 
 common believers, is very much questioned by many.” (Why 
 did not Sir Thomas satisfy himself, by experiments?) This 
 absurd notion of luminous jewels is of frequent occurrence in 
 Eastern fictions and legends. In the Talmud it is said that 
 Noah and his family while in the Ark had no light besides what 
 was sent forth by diamonds and other precious stones. And 
 Abraham, who, it seems, was very jealous of his wives, built 
 for them a city, the walls of which were so high as to exclude 
 the light of the sun ! — an inconvenience which he easily 
 remedied by means of a large basin full of pearls and other 
 gems, which shed a light equal in brilliancy to that of the “ eye 
 of day.” It is related that over the gable of the palace of 
 Prester John were placed, at the two extremities, two golden 
 apples, in each of which were two carbuncles, so that the 
 gold might shine by day and the carbuncles by night. In the 
 Pseudo-Callisthenes it is said that Alexander found in the 
 belly of a fish a precious stone, w^hich he set in gold, and used 
 at night as a lamp. In Lucian’s ‘ De Dea Syri^,’ on the head of 
 the statue of the goddess was a stone, “which they call the 
 Lamp, from its lustre ; by night it shines with such splendour 
 as to light the whole temple.” In the ‘ Forty Vazirs ’ we read 
 of a dome composed of a carbuncle six feet in diameter, which 
 served instead of the sun in an underground palace. Jewel- 
 lamps are often mentioned in the ‘ Katha Sarit Sagara.’ 
 
413 
 
 MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 rilHE stem of what Mr Baring - Gould terms the 
 Magical-Conflict Boot ” has spread its branches 
 far and wide in the shape of popular Actions in which 
 two or more persons, possessing nearly equal powers of 
 changing themselves into whatever forms they please, 
 engage in a life -or -death struggle. It seems to me 
 that popular belief in men being capable of acquiring 
 such powers should sufflciently account for the uni- 
 versal prevalence of stories of this class, without seek- 
 ing for their origin in primitive conceptions of the 
 phenomena of physical nature, such as sunrise, sunset, 
 clouds, lightning, and so forth. However this may 
 be, there certainly is no cycle of folk-tales of which 
 the members everywhere present a more striking 
 resemblance to each other, or indicate more clearly 
 a common origin. In this case especially is inde- 
 pendent invention of the same incidents in different 
 countries and ages altogether out of the question, as I 
 hope to prove conclusively in the course of the present 
 paper. 
 
414 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Eeaders familiar with the ‘Arabian Nights’ — and 
 who is not ? — must remember the terrible conflict 
 which occurs in the story of the Second Calender: 
 He had been changed into an ape by an evil genie ; 
 and while a beautiful young princess is performing 
 magical rites for restoring him to his natural form, 
 the genie appears as a fierce lion, upon which the 
 princess changes herself into a keen-edged sword and 
 cuts the lion in two. Then the genie becomes a scor- 
 pion and the princess a serpent, in which form she 
 vanquishes her enemy, who flees away as an eagle, and 
 is pursued by the princess as a larger eagle. The 
 succeeding metamorphoses are : a black cat, chased by 
 a wolf; the cat becomes a worm, which, piercing a 
 pomegranate, causes it to burst, when the wolf becomes 
 a cock, and begins to pick up the seeds ; one of the 
 seeds rolls into the canal and becomes a fish, and then 
 the cock turns himself into a great pike ; finally, the 
 princess and the genie are seen enveloped in flames, 
 and both are reduced to ashes. — This catastrophe is, 
 so far as I am aware, peculiar to the Arabian version 
 of the Magical Conflict ; in the other versions the 
 person who acts the same part as the princess is usu- 
 ally victorious. 
 
 Keightley, in his ‘ Tales and Popular Fictions,’ pub- 
 lished more than half a century ago — an interesting 
 little book, though now obsolete with comparative 
 storiologists — has pointed out Italian and German 
 tales “which have some resemblance” to the fore- 
 
MAGICAL TKANSFOKMATIONS. 
 
 415 
 
 going, ‘‘though probably an accidental one/’ This 
 is Keightley’s abstract of a story in the ‘ Pleasant 
 Nights’ of Straparola:^ 
 
 A magician, named Lactantius, followed the trade 
 of a tailor. He takes an apprentice, who, happening 
 to overhear his incantations, loses all relish for tailor- 
 ing, and his father takes him home. Lactantius, how- 
 ever, receives him again, and sets him now only to 
 common work, and the father takes him away once 
 more. As they were very poor, the son said to his 
 father, “ I will turn myself into a fine horse. Do you 
 then sell me ; but be sure to keep the bridle, and not 
 to let it go with me, or else I cannot come back.” Lac- 
 tantius, seeing the horse, knows who it is. He buys 
 him, and persuades the father to let him have the 
 bridle along with him. Having got the horse into his 
 possession, he ties him up, beats him, and abuses him. 
 One day the daughters of the magician led the horse 
 to water, when suddenly he turned himself into a little 
 fish, and dived down. Lactantius hastened to the 
 spot, and becoming a large fish, pursued the little one, 
 who jumped, in the form of a ruby set in a gold ring, 
 into the basket of the king’s daughter, who was gather- 
 ing pebbles at that place. She takes him away with 
 her, and he shows himself to her in his true form — 
 that of a handsome youth. She loves him, and keeps 
 him with her as a ring. The king falling sick, Lac- 
 tantius comes as a physician, cures him, and for his 
 
 ^ ‘Piacevoli Notti di M. Giovan Francesco Straparola la Caravagio,’ 
 etc., first printed at Venice in 1550. 
 
416 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 fee demands a ruby -ring which his daughter has, and 
 with which he was well acquainted. The princess re- 
 fuses to give it up ; but when at last she is compelled 
 to surrender it, the youth tells her to throw it against 
 the wall before the magician. She does so, and as 
 soon as the ring falls to the ground it is turned into 
 a pomegranate, which bursts, and scatters its seeds 
 about. The magician converts himself into a cock, 
 and picks them up ; but one hid itself from him, and 
 becoming a fox, catches him by the neck and bites his 
 head off. The king then gives the young man his 
 daughter in marriage. 
 
 In the German version cited by Keightley (the tale 
 of the Gaudeif, or Thief, in Grimm’s collection), the 
 pupil is sold, in like manner, as a horse, the father also 
 parting with the bridle. When he gets the bridle off, 
 he changes himself into a sparrow, and is pursued by 
 his master, also as a sparrow. They then become fishes : 
 finally, the master is a cock, and the pupil, as a fox, 
 bites his head off. — In an Austrian version, the last 
 metamorphosis of the master is into a grain of oats, 
 which is gobbled up by the pupil, in the form of a 
 cock, and thus an end of the magician. 
 
 There are, it will be seen,” remarks Keightley, 
 ‘‘some points of resemblance in these different tales, 
 but perhaps hardly sufficient to justify an assertion of 
 one being borrowed from another. Yet possibly,” he 
 adds, “the Arabian story had reached Venice.” (Pp. 
 123, 124.) 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 417 
 
 That many Eastern fictions were imported into Italy 
 in the 16th century there is every reason to believe ; 
 but I do not think this was one of them, since the first 
 incident, the selling of the horse with the bridle, is 
 found in a separate tale in the ' Arabian Nights,’ as 
 Keightley himself was aware ; while not only in Ger- 
 many and Austria, but in Denmark and Norway also, 
 the magical conflict ” is current in a form similar to 
 that of Straparola’s story ; and I am rather disposed to 
 consider that it was introduced into the south of Europe 
 by the Norsemen, than that it travelled from the South 
 to the North. 
 
 The bridle ” incident occurs in the Arabian tale of 
 Julnar of the Sea and her Son. Queen Lab, a sor- 
 ceress, having attempted to transform King Badr 
 Bassim and failed, because he had taken precautions 
 by the advice of Abdallah the grocer, who was skilled 
 in white ” magic (which is not regarded as unlawful 
 by Muslims), and who had also instructed him how to 
 turn the tables on her, the story thus proceeds, accord- 
 ing to Sir E. E. Burton’s new translation : 
 
 Badr Bassim took water in his palm and threw it 
 in her face, saying, Quit this human form and take 
 'that of a dapple mule.” No sooner had he spoken 
 than she found herself changed into a she - mule, 
 whereupon the tears ran down her cheeks, and she 
 fell to rubbing her muzzle against his feet. Then he 
 would have bridled her, but she would not take the 
 bit. So he left her, and going to the grocer, told him 
 what had passed. Abdallah brought out for him a 
 
 VOL. I. 2d 
 
418 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 bridle, and bade him rein her forthwith. So he took 
 it to the palace, and when she saw him, she came up 
 to him, and he set the bit in her mouth, and mounting 
 her, rode forth to find the shaykh. But when the 
 old man saw her, he rose and said to her, “ Almighty 
 Allah confound thee, 0 accursed woman ! ’’ Then 
 quoth he to Badr, 0 my son, there is no more tarry- 
 ing for thee in this city ; so ride her, and fare with 
 her whither thou wilt ; and beware lest thou commit 
 the bridle to any.” King Badr thanked him, and 
 farewelling him, fared on three days without ceasing 
 till he drew near another city, and there met him an 
 old man, grey-headed and comely, who said, '' Whence 
 comest thou, 0 my son ? ” Badr replied, “ From the 
 city of this wretch.” And the old man said, '' Thou 
 art my guest to-night.” He consented, and went with 
 him ; but by the way, behold ! they met an old woman, 
 who wept when she saw the mule, and said, “Verily 
 this mule resembleth my son’s she -mule, which is 
 dead, and my heart acheth for her. So, Allah upon 
 thee, 0 my lord, do thou sell her to me.” He replied, 
 “By Allah, 0 my mother, I cannot sell her.” But 
 she cried, “ Allah upon thee ! do not refuse my re- 
 quest ; for my son will surely be a dead man except 
 I bring him this mule.” And she importuned him 
 till he exclaimed, “ I will not sell her save for a 
 thousand dinars;” ^ saying in himself, “Whence should 
 this old woman get a thousand gold pieces ? ” There- 
 upon she brought out from her girdle a purse con- 
 
 1 About five hundred pounds. 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFOKMATIONS. 
 
 419 
 
 taining a thousand ducats, which when King Badr 
 Bassim saw, he said, '' 0 my mother, I did but jest 
 with thee. I cannot sell her.” But the old man 
 looked at him and said, '' 0 my son, in this city none 
 may lie ; for whoso lieth they put to death.” So King 
 Badr Bassim dismounted and delivered the mule to 
 the old woman, and she drew the bit from her mouth, 
 and taking water in her hand, sprinkled the mule 
 therewith, saying, “ 0 my daughter, quit this shape 
 for that which thou wast aforetime.” Upon that she 
 was straightway restored to her original semblance, 
 and the two women embraced and kissed each other. 
 So King Badr Bassim knew that the old woman was 
 Queen Lab’s mother, and that he had been tricked, 
 and would have fled, when the old woman whistled a 
 loud whistle, and her call was obeyed by an Ifrit, 
 as he were a great mountain ; ^ whereat Badr was 
 affrighted and stood still. Then the old woman 
 mounted on the Ifrft’s back, taking her daughter 
 
 ^ Demons of this species often figure in Arabian romances, and we 
 have met with them more than once in the preceding papers. A 
 Persian poet has thus graphically sketched the likeness of one of 
 these formidable beings : 
 
 He was an Ifrit, created from mouth to foot by the wrath of God. 
 
 His hair like a bear’s, his teeth like a boar’s. No one ever beheld such a 
 monster. 
 
 Crook-backed and crabbed-faced, he might be scented at the distance of a 
 thousand parsangs. 
 
 His nostrils were like the ovens of brick-burners, and his mouth resembled the 
 vat of a dyer. 
 
 For a full account of the nature of the jinn, ifrits, etc. see Lane’s 
 ‘ Arabian Nights,’ vol. i. pp. 26-33. 
 
420 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 behind her and King Badr Bassim before her, and the 
 Ifrit flew off with them.^ 
 
 To return to the magical conflict.” In the Nor- 
 wegian version, the pupil of Farmer Weathersky, hav- 
 ing become what his mother wished, ‘‘the master of 
 all masters,” she wouldn’t rest till he gave a proof 
 of his magical skill. So when the fair came round 
 the lad changed himself into a horse, and told his 
 father to lead him to the fair. “ Now when any one 
 comes,” he said, “ to buy me, you may ask a hundred 
 dollars for me ; but mind you don’t forget to take the 
 headstall off me — if you do. Farmer Weathersky will 
 keep me for ever, for he it is who will come to deal 
 with you.” So it turned out. Up came a horsedealer 
 who had a great wish to deal for a horse, and he 
 gave a hundred dollars down for him ; but when the 
 bargain was struck, and Jack’s father had pocketed 
 the money, the horsedealer wanted to have the head- 
 stall. “ Nay, nay,” said the man, “ there’s nothing 
 about that in the bargain ; and, besides, you can’t have 
 the headstall, for I’ve other horses at home to bring 
 to town to-morrow.” So each went his way; but they 
 hadn’t gone far before Jack took his own shape and 
 
 ^ ‘ A Plain and Literal Translation of the “ Arabian Nights Enter- 
 tainments,” now entituled “ The Book of the Thousand Nights and a 
 Night.” With Introduction, Explanatory Notes on the Manners and 
 Customs of Moslem Men, and a Terminal Essay upon the History of 
 ‘‘The Nights.” By Richard F. Burton. [In ten volumes.] Ben- 
 ares.'; MDCCCLXXXV. Printed by the Kamashastra Society for Private 
 Subscribers only.’ Vol. vii. pp. 304, 305. 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFOKMATIONS. 
 
 421 
 
 ran away, and when his father got home, there sat 
 Jack in the ingle. Next day he turned himself into 
 a brown horse, and told his father to drive him to 
 the fair : '' And when any one comes to buy me,’’ said 
 he, “ you may ask two hundred dollars for me — he’ll 
 give that, and treat you besides; but whatever you 
 do, and however much you drink, don't forget to take 
 the headstall off me, else you’ll never set eyes on me 
 again.” So all happened as he had said: the man 
 got two hundred dollars for the horse, and a glass 
 of drink besides, and when the buyer and seller parted 
 it was as much as he could do to remember to take 
 off the headstall. But the buyer and the horse 
 hadn’t got far on the road before Jack took his 
 own shape, and when his father got home, there sat 
 Jack in the ingle. The third day it was the same 
 story over again ; the lad turned himself into a black 
 horse, and told his father some one would come and 
 bid him three hundred dollars for him, and fill his 
 skin with meat and drink besides. But however 
 much he ate or drank, he was to mind and not forget 
 to take the headstall off, else he’d have to stay with 
 Farmer Weathersky all his life long. ''No, no. I’ll 
 not forget — never fear,” said his father. So when he 
 came to the fair, he got three hundred dollars for the 
 horse; and as it wasn’t a dry bargain. Farmer Weather- 
 sky made him drink so much that he quite forgot 
 to take the headstall off, and away went Farmer 
 Weathersky with the horse. 
 
 Now when he had gone a little way, he thought he 
 
422 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 would just stop and have another glass of brandy ; so 
 he put a barrel of red-hot nails under his horse’s nose, 
 and a sieve of oats under his tail, hung the halter upon 
 a hook, and went into the inn. So the horse stood 
 there, and stamped and pawed, and snorted and roared. 
 Just then came a lassie, who thought it a shame to 
 treat a horse so. 0 poor beastie ! ” she said ; '' what 
 a cruel master you must have to treat you so ! ” and 
 as she said this, she pulled the halter off the hook, so 
 that the horse might turn round and taste the oats. 
 '' I’m after you ! ” roared Farmer Weathersky ; but the 
 horse had already shaken off the headstall and jumped 
 into a duck-pond, where he turned himself into a tiny 
 fish. In went Farmer Weathersky after him, and 
 turned himself into a pike. Then Jack turned him- 
 self into a dove, and Farmer Weathersky became a 
 hawk, and chased and struck at the dove. But just 
 then the princess stood at the window of the palace 
 and saw this struggle. '' Ah, poor dove ! ” she cried, 
 ‘'if you only knew what I know, you’d fly to me 
 through this window.” So the dove came flying in 
 through the window, and turned himself into Jack 
 again, who told her his own tale. “ Turn yourself into 
 a gold ring,” said the princess, “ and put yourself on 
 my finger.” Quoth Jack, “ Nay, nay, that’ll never do ; 
 for Farmer Weathersky will make the king sick, and 
 then there’ll be no one who can make him well again 
 till Farmer Weathersky comes and cures him; and 
 then for his fee he’ll ask that gold ring.” The princess 
 replied, “ Then I’ll say I had it from my mother, and 
 
MAGICAL TKANSFOEMATIONS. 
 
 423 
 
 can’t part with it.” So Jack turned himself into a 
 gold ring, and put himself on the finger of the princess ; 
 and so Farmer Weathersky couldn’t get at him. But 
 then followed what the lad had foretold : the king fell 
 sick, and there wasn’t a doctor in the kingdom who 
 could cure him till Farmer Weathersky came and 
 asked for the ring off the princess’ finger for his fee. 
 So the king sent a messenger to the princess for the 
 ring ; but she said she wouldn’t part with it, for her 
 mother had left it her. When the king heard that he 
 flew into a rage, and said he would have the ring, 
 whoever left it her. ''Well,” said the princess, "it’s 
 no good being cross about it. I can’t get it off, and if 
 you must have the ring, you must take my finger too.” 
 " If you’ll let me try, I’ll soon get the ring off,” said 
 Farmer Weathersky. "No, thanks; I’ll try myself,” 
 said the princess, and flew to the grate and put ashes 
 on her finger. Then the ring slipped off, and was lost 
 among the ashes. So Farmer Weathersky turned him- 
 self into a cock, and scratched and pecked after the 
 ring in the grate till he was up to the eyes in ashes. 
 But while he was doing this. Jack changed himself 
 into a fox, and bit off the cock’s head ; and if the Evil 
 One was in Farmer Weathersky, it is all over with 
 him now.^ 
 
 In the Danish version the lad’s master in magic is 
 a Troll-man, and his first exploit is to change himself 
 
 ^ Dasent’s ^ Popular Tales from the Norse.’ Second edition, pp. 
 335-339. 
 
424 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 into a beautiful little dog, which his father sells for a 
 considerable sum to the occupants of a fine carriage 
 that came rolling past; at the same instant the son 
 changes his father into a hare, and in the form of the 
 dog chases it, and both disappear in a wood, when 
 father and son assume human forms and return home. 
 After all the money was spent, the youth said to his 
 father, ‘'Now I will turn myself into a boar, and you 
 must put a cord round my leg and take me to Horsens 
 market for sale ; but remember to throw the cord over 
 my right ear at the moment you sell me, and then I 
 shall be home again as soon as you.” The peasant did 
 as his son directed him, and went to market; and 
 there at length sold the boar at a high price to an old 
 man (who was none other than the magician), taking 
 care to throw the cord over its right ear as the lad had 
 told him, and in the same moment the animal van- 
 ished, and when he reached his own home again, there 
 was his son sitting at the table. They now lived a 
 merry life until all their money was spent, and then 
 again set out on fresh adventures. This time the lad 
 changed himself into a bull, first reminding his father 
 to throw the rope over his right horn as soon as he 
 was sold. At the market he met with the same old 
 man, and soon came to an agreement with him about 
 the price of the bull. While they were drinking a 
 glass at the alehouse, the father threw the rope over 
 the bulks right horn, and when the magician went to 
 fetch his purchase it had disappeared, and the peasant 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFOKMATIONS. 
 
 425 
 
 on reaching home again found his son sitting beside 
 his mother at the table. 
 
 The lad next turned himself into a horse, and the 
 magician was again in the market and bought him. 
 
 Thou hast already tricked me twice,” said he to the 
 peasant, but it shall not happen again ; ” and before 
 he paid down the money he hired a stable and fastened 
 the horse in, so that it was impossible for the peasant 
 to throw the rein over the animaTs right ear. The 
 old man, nevertheless, returned home, in the hope that 
 this time also he should find his son ; but he was dis- 
 appointed, for no lad was there. The magician in the 
 meantime mounted the horse and rode off. He well 
 knew whom he had bought, and determined that the 
 lad should pay with his life for the deception he had 
 practised upon him. He rode the horse through 
 swamps and pools, until at length he himself was 
 tired and went home. When he arrived there, he put 
 a magic bridle on the horse and shut him in a dark 
 stable, without giving him anything to eat or drink. 
 After some time had elapsed, he said to the servant- 
 maid, Go out and see how the horse is ; ” and when 
 she went into the stable the horse began to moan 
 piteously, and begged her to give him a pail of water. 
 She did so, and on her return told her master that the 
 horse was well. Some time after, he again desired her 
 to go and see if the horse was not yet dead. When 
 she entered the stable the poor animal begged her to 
 loose the bridle and the girths, which were strapped 
 
426 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 SO tight that he could hardly draw breath. The girl 
 did as she was requested, and no sooner was it done 
 than the horse was changed into a hare and ran out of 
 the stable. 
 
 The magician, who was sitting at the window, was 
 immediately aware of what had happened on seeing 
 the hare go springing across the yard, and, in a mo- 
 ment changing himself into a dog, went in pursuit of 
 it. When they had run many miles over corn-fields 
 and meadows, the hare’s strength began to fail, and 
 the magician gained more and more upon him. The 
 hare then changed into a dove, but the magician as 
 quickly turned himself into a hawk and renewed his 
 pursuit. In this manner they fiew towards a palace 
 where a princess was sitting at a window. When she 
 saw a hawk in chase of a dove she opened the window, 
 and immediately the dove fiew into the room, and then 
 changed itself into a gold ring. The magician now 
 became a prince, and went into the apartment for the 
 purpose of catching the dove. When he could not 
 find it, he asked permission to see her rings. The 
 princess showed them to him, but let one fall into the 
 fire. The Troll-man instantly drew it out, and in so 
 doing burnt his fingers, and was obliged to let it fall 
 on the fioor. Then the ring became a grain of corn, 
 and at the same instant the magician turned himself 
 into a hen in order to eat the corn, but scarcely had 
 he done so than the lad became a hawk and killed 
 him. He then went to the forest, fetched all the 
 
MAGICAL TEANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 427 
 
 magician’s gold and silver, and from that day lived in 
 wealth and happiness with his parents^ 
 
 A similar but briefer conflict is waged between the 
 hero and a species of griffin, called the Tree Lion, in 
 the Gaelic story of the Fair Gruagach, son of the king 
 of Eirinn : '' When they were on forward a short dis- 
 tance, whom saw they coming but the Tree Lion. He 
 became a bull; the Fair Chief became a bull before 
 him, and the first blow he struck him he laid his head 
 on his side, and the Tree Lion gave out a roar. Then 
 he sprang as an ass ; the Fair Chief sprang as an ass 
 before him, and at the first rush he gave towards him 
 he took a mouthful between flesh and skin. The Tree 
 Lion then sprang as a hawk in the wood, and he took 
 the heart and liver out of him. The Fair Chief fell 
 down afterwards ; Fionn seized him, and he put him 
 into the napkin [as had been previously arranged 
 between them], and he cut a turf, and he put the 
 napkin under earth and the turf upon it, and he 
 stood on the turf. The wife of the Tree Lion came, 
 and the book of witchcraft was on her back in a hay- 
 band. ‘ Eeen, son of Connal, man that never told a 
 lie, who killed my comrade ? ’ ‘I know not, above 
 eoHffi, who killed thy comrade.’ And she went away 
 
 1 Thorpe’s ‘Yule-Tide Stories,’ Bohn’s edition, pp. 336-339. — The 
 incident, in the Norse version, of the horse having a pan of red-hot 
 nails at his head and a bushel of oats at his tail occurs in a different 
 Norwegian story in Thorpe’s collection, “ The Widow’s Son,” p. 295. 
 
428 
 
 POPULAH TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 in her weeping cry, and she betook herself to distance. 
 He caught hold of the Fair Chief, and he lifted him 
 with him, and he reached the castle in which was the 
 Dame of the Fine Green Kirtle.” ^ 
 
 The oldest European form of the Magical Conflict 
 is doubtless found in the legend of the birth of 
 Taliesin, a famous Welsh bard, who flourished in the 
 sixth century, as given in the last of the ‘ Mabinogion,’ 
 translated by Lady Charlotte Guest : 
 
 Ceridwen, the wife of Tegid Voel, having prepared 
 a magical concoction in order to render her ugly son 
 Aragddu all-knowing, and thus compensate him for 
 his physical defects, she set the cauldron containing 
 it upon the fire, and put Gwion Bach, the son of 
 Gureang, to stir the ingredients, and a blind man 
 named Morda to kindle the fire beneath the cauldron, 
 charging them on their peril not to suffer it to cease 
 boiling for the space of a year and a day. All went 
 well until near the end of the year, when Ceridwen 
 being absent one day culling plants of magic virtue, 
 three drops of the Water of Inspiration flew out of the 
 cauldron and fell upon the finger of Gwion Bach, and 
 by reason of their great heat he put his finger to his 
 mouth, and instantly perceived all that was to happen, 
 and that he must guard againt the wiles of Ceridwen. 
 So he fled towards his own land. The cauldron burst 
 into pieces and the charmed liquor was all lost. When 
 Ceridwen returned and saw what had happened, she 
 ^ Campbell’s ‘ Tales of the West Highlands,’ vol. ii. p. 423. 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFOKMATIONS. 
 
 42S 
 
 struck blind Morda on the head with a billet of wood, 
 upon which he declared himself guiltless, and then she 
 knew it was Gwion Bach who had done it. 
 
 And she went after him, running. And he saw her, 
 and changed himself into a hare and fled. But she 
 changed herself into a greyhound and turned him. 
 And he ran towards a river and became a fish. And 
 she in the form of an otter chased him under the 
 water, until he was fain to turn himself into a bird of 
 the air. She, as a hawk, followed him, and . gave him 
 no rest in the sky. And just as she was about to 
 stoop upon him, and he was in fear of death, he espied 
 a heap of winnowed wheat on the floor of a barn, and 
 he dropped among the wheat and turned himself into 
 one of the grains. Then she formed herself into a 
 high- crested black hen, and went to the wheat and 
 scratched it with her feet, and found him out and 
 swallowed him. And, as the story says, she bore him 
 nine months ; and when she was delivered of him, she 
 could not find it in her heart to kill him, by reason of 
 his beauty. So she wrapped him in a leathern bag 
 and cast him into the sea to the mercy of God, on the 
 twenty-ninth day of April.^ 
 
 ^ ‘ The Mabinogion.* From the Welsh of the ‘ Llyfr Coch o Her- 
 gest’ (The Eed Book of Hergest), in the Library of Jesus College, 
 Oxford. Translated, with Notes, by Lady Charlotte Guest. London : 
 Quaritch, 1877. (Last edition.) Pp. 471-473. — The term “ Mabinogi,” 
 Professor E. B. Cowell has informed me, means “juvenility,” from 
 mob, a child ; then “ juvenile amusement,” “ a youth-tale.” It is 
 properly the title of four only of Lady Charlotte Guest’s tales — viz., 
 “ Owyll,” “ Branwen,” “ Manawyddan,” and “ Math,” which all form 
 one romance ; but the name in the plural, “ mabinogion,” has been 
 
430 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 If this cycle of folk-tales be, as some comparative 
 mythologists maintain, survivals of a primitive Aryan 
 myth, then the foregoing Cymric story, so far as it 
 relates to the Magical Conflict, probably reflects more 
 or less faithfully the very tradition which the tribes 
 carried with them when they first began to migrate to 
 Europe. “It might, I think,” says Lady Charlotte 
 Guest, “ be shown that the Cymric nation is not only, 
 as Dr Prichard has proved it to be, an early off-shoot 
 of the Indo-European family, and a people of unmixed 
 descent, but that, when driven out of their conquests 
 by the later nations, the names and exploits of their 
 heroes and the compositions of their bards spread far 
 and wide among the invaders, and affected intimately 
 their tastes and literature for many centuries, and 
 that it has strong claims to be considered as the cradle 
 of European romance.” No doubt the mediaeval 
 romances of Europe were largely derived from ancient 
 British sources, though they also owed much to the 
 Sagas of Scandinavia, and to Arabic fictions ; but it is 
 not at all likely that the Cymric story of the magical 
 contest between Ceridwen and little Gwion Bach was 
 the direct source of the Norse tale of Farmer Weather- 
 sky and his pupil, or Straparola’s version, with which 
 it so closely corresponds. We must conclude that the 
 resemblance between these two versions is due to 
 transmission from the North to the South, or vice versd ; 
 or that the story, like so many others, reached Scan- 
 
 improperly applied to all the rest. Properly, these four are the 
 * Mabinogion.’ 
 
MAGICAL TKANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 431 
 
 dinavia through the Mongolians, and Italy through 
 the Turks.^ Observe the exact parallel which is 
 presented to both the Horse and the Italian stories in 
 the following version from Leger's ' Contes Albanais ’ : 
 
 Once upon a time a man sent his son away among 
 the devils to learn their art, and at the end of a year 
 he had learned it so thoroughly that he knew more of 
 it than his masters ; so his father went for him and 
 brought him home. Then he said to his father. 
 
 To-morrow I intend to become a horse, with every 
 quality valued in that animal. You will sell me at 
 a price proportionate to my value, but take particular 
 care not to give away the bridle with me.” So next 
 day he changed himself into a horse, and his father 
 took him to market and sold him for I know not how 
 many thousand piastres, taking care to keep the bridle. 
 But the youth, resuming his proper form, fled from 
 the buyer’s house and came home. Next day there 
 was a new metamorphosis, this time into a mule ; and 
 his father again set out to sell him at the market. The 
 devils with whom the youth had studied came and 
 asked the father what he wanted for his mule, and 
 having agreed on the price, they paid him the money. 
 Then quoth the father to them, ‘‘ Observe, I do not 
 give you the bridle.” The devils replied, “But we 
 must have it,” and thereupon a dispute arose. The 
 
 ^ Many learned Icelanders visited even remote parts of the East 
 during the middle ages, and they probably carried back with them 
 some of the fictions which have long been domiciled in the north of 
 Europe, and which are demonstrably of Asiatic extraction. 
 
432 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 mule took advantage of it to scamper off, and the 
 devils bolted in pursuit. Seeing that he could not 
 escape, the mule at once became a hare, and then the 
 devils changed themselves into dogs and coursed the 
 hare. When the hare was about to be caught, he 
 became an apple, which fell upon the queen’s table. 
 The dogs then took the forms of dervishes and said to 
 the queen, In the name of Heaven, give us that 
 apple which has just fallen on your table ! For many 
 days have we sweated blood and water to obtain it.” 
 The queen replied, “ You shall not be disgraced by a 
 refusal. What ! is it for this apple you have suffered 
 so much ? There it is — take it, and go in peace,” and 
 she tossed them the apple, which instantly became 
 millet, and spread all over the ground. Upon this the 
 dervishes changed themselves into fowls and began to 
 pick up the grain. Then the millet became a fox, 
 which crunched up the fowls. So well had the youth 
 learned the devils’ art, that he devoured those who 
 had taught him.^ 
 
 In the frame-story of the Eelations of Siddhi Kur,^ 
 we have a Kalmuk version, from an older form of 
 which it is possible the Norse story may have been 
 derived — for that work, as it now exists, is generally 
 considered as of comparatively recent date : 
 
 1 As the story occurs also in the Turkish roma^nce of the ‘ Forty 
 Vazirs,’ it is highly probable that the Albanians derived it from the 
 Ottomans. 
 
 2 See note on page 82. 
 
MAGICAL TKANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 433 
 
 In the kingdom of Magadha there once lived seven 
 brothers who were magicians. At the distance of a 
 mile from their abode lived two brothers, sons of a 
 khan. The elder of these went to the seven magicians, 
 saying, Teach me to understand your art,'’ and abode 
 with them seven years. But though they were always 
 setting him to learn different tasks, yet they never 
 taught him the true key to their mystic knowledge. 
 His brother, however, coming to visit him one day, by 
 merely looking through a crack in the door of the 
 apartment in which the seven brothers were at work, 
 acquired perfectly all magical science. After this 
 they both went home together ; the elder, because he 
 perceived he would never learn anything of the magi- 
 cians, and the younger, because he had learned every- 
 thing they had to impart. As they went along, the 
 younger brother said, '' Now that we know all their 
 art, the seven magicians will probably seek to do us 
 some mischief. Go thou, therefore, to our stable, 
 which we left empty, and thou shalt find there a 
 splendid steed. Put a bridle on him, and lead him 
 forth to sell him — only take care thou go not out in 
 the direction of the dwelling of the seven magicians ; 
 and having sold him, bring back the price thou shalt 
 have received." When he had made an end of speak- 
 ing, he transformed himself into a horse, and went 
 and placed himself in the stable awaiting his brother's 
 arrival. 
 
 But the elder brother, knowing that the magicians 
 had taught him nothing, stood in no fear of them. 
 
 2 E 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
434 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 Therefore he paid no heed to the words of his brother, 
 but saying to himself, '‘As my brother is so clever that 
 he could conjure this fine horse into the stable, let him 
 conjure thither another if he wants it sold — this one 
 I will ride myself.” So he saddled and mounted the 
 horse ; but all his efforts to guide him were vain, and 
 in spite of his best endeavours, the horse, impelled by 
 the power of the magic of those from whom the art 
 had been learned, carried him straight to the door of 
 the magicians’ dwelling. Once there, he was equally 
 unable to induce him to stir away ; the horse persist- 
 ently stood before the magicians’ door. When he 
 found he could not in any way command the horse, he 
 determined to sell it to them, asking a great sum for it. 
 The magicians readily knew that it was a magic horse, 
 and said among themselves, " If our art is to become 
 thus common, and everybody can produce a magic 
 horse, no one will come to our market for wonders. 
 We had best buy the horse up and destroy it.” Ac- 
 cordingly they paid the high price required, and took 
 possession of the horse and shut it up in a dark stall. 
 When the time came to slaughter it, one held it down 
 by the tail, another by the head, other four by the four 
 legs, so that it should in no wise break away, while the 
 seventh bared his arm ready to strike it with death. 
 When the khan’s son who was transformed into the 
 horse perceived what was the intention of the magi- 
 cians, he thought, "Would that any sort of living 
 being would appear into which I might transform my- 
 self ! ” Hardly had he formed the wish when a little 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFOKMATIONS. 
 
 435 
 
 fish was seen swimming down the stream; into this 
 the khan’s son transformed himself. The seven magi- 
 cians knew what had occurred, and immediately trans- 
 formed themselves into seven large fish and pursued 
 it. When they were very close to the little fish with 
 their mouths wide open, the son of the khan said 
 within himself, '' Would that any sort of living being 
 would appear into which I might transform myself ! ” 
 Immediately a dove was seen flying in the air, and the 
 khan’s son became a dove. The seven magicians, see- 
 ing what was done, transformed themselves into seven 
 hawks, and pursued the dove over hill and dale, and 
 they were near overtaking the dove when it took refuge 
 in Land Bede Tibet]. 
 
 Southward in Bede was a shining mountain, and a 
 cave in it called Giver of Best. Hither the dove took 
 refuge, even in the very bosom of the Great Master 
 and Teacher Nagarguna.^ The seven hawks, following 
 fast after the dove, at the entrance of the cave changed 
 themselves into men wearing cotton garments. The 
 son of the khan then became a bead of the master’s 
 chaplet, and when the men humbly requested the 
 master to give them the holy chaplet, he, who knew 
 the whole affair, loosened the string, and putting in his 
 mouth the son of the khan transformed into one of the 
 beads, handed them the chaplet ; and then dropping 
 the bead out of his mouth, it instantly became a man 
 armed with a great stick, and the son of the khan slew 
 the pretended devotees but real magicians. 
 
 ^ The 17th Patriarch in Buddhist succession, who died b.c. 212. 
 
436 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 The story is well known to the people of Southern 
 India, and a version occurs in the Tamil romance 
 ' Madana Kamaraja Kadai,’ which bears considerable 
 resemblance to the European variants, and of which 
 this is an abstract: 
 
 One of the sons of a raja, who has lost his king- 
 dom and is reduced to poverty, having been instructed 
 in magic by a Brahman, who is afterwards eager for his 
 destruction, said to his father one day, in order that 
 they should procure the means of subsistence, '' There 
 lives in this city a rich merchant who has an only son. 
 I shall assume the shape of a panchakalydni horse,^ 
 and do you walk with me to the tank where the 
 merchant’s son will come in the morning for his bath. 
 He will take a liking for the horse and ask his price. 
 You had better demand a thousand pagodas. After 
 you have parted with me, I shall contrive to escape 
 and return to you.” So saying, the prince transformed 
 himself into a horse, and stood before his father 
 whinneying pleasantly, who took him to the side of the 
 tank, and sold him to the merchant’s son for a thousand 
 pagodas. But the prince’s instructor in magic recog- 
 nised in the horse his former pupil, and by making 
 the merchant’s son believe that the animal was vicious 
 and most dangerous to ride, bought him of him for 
 the same sum that he had just paid for him, and 
 then rode him about till he was almost dead with 
 fatigue. 
 
 The transformed prince, perceiving his old master 
 
 1 A horse whose four feet and forehead are white. 
 
MAGICAL TKANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 437 
 
 intended to kill him, became a fish in a tank, which, 
 when the master discovered, he caused all his pupils 
 to draw off the water in the tank and kill all the fish 
 afterwards. The prince then entered the carcase of a 
 buffalo ^ which some skinners had left on the bank of 
 the pond while they went to fetch their knives, and 
 began to run away. Seeing this, the master made the 
 skinners give chase, when the prince entered the dead 
 body of a parrot ^ which he saw in a tree. Then the 
 master took the form of a kite, and followed him at a 
 furious speed over mountains and through jungles, 
 until at length they came to a city. The parrot flew 
 towards the palace, and entered through an open 
 window into the chamber of the princess, who was 
 seated on a couch unloosing her hair, and alighted in 
 her lap. She was delighted at the sight of the beauti- 
 ful bird, and taking it up, kissed it and pressed it 
 fondly to her bosom. Then she placed the parrot in a 
 golden cage, and fed it with dainties. One night, 
 when the princess was lain down on her couch, the 
 young prince assumed his own form, and told her how 
 he was persecuted by his former master, who would 
 
 ^ This is not transformation, but voluntary transmigration — the 
 exercise of the magical art of transferring one’s soul into any dead 
 body, on which is based the frame-story of the Indian romance of 
 Vikr^maditya of Ujjain, which is imitated in the ‘ Bah^r-i D^nush,’ 
 the Persian ‘ Thousand and One Days,’ and the Turkish ‘ Forty 
 Vazirs.’ It is evident this Tamil version is garbled : the prince here 
 takes no precaution that the body he is represented as quitting 
 should not be discovered and burnt ; and indeed we find him after- 
 wards simply transforming himself, like the persecuted pupil in other 
 versions. 
 
438 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 return shortly as a rope-dancer, and having pleased 
 the king her father with his performances, as his sole 
 object was to kill him (the prince), would demand the 
 parrot. She had better at first refuse, but when her 
 servants come a second time she should break the 
 neck of the parrot and then give it to them. '' Don’t 
 be afraid of having killed me,” added the prince ; for 
 I shall instantly become a pearl of your necklace. 
 The servants will come once more, saying that your 
 father requires your necklace. Do you then scatter 
 the pearls in the courtyard, after which you will see 
 something very wonderful.” All happens as the young 
 prince had forecast, and when the pearls fell into the 
 courtyard they were all changed into worms. The 
 magician saw that one of these was the prince, and at 
 once assumed the form of a cock, and began to devour 
 the worms, whereupon the prince changed himself into 
 a cat, and pouncing .upon the cock, caught it by the 
 neck. The cock in human voice calls out for help, 
 and the king now interfering, learns the whole story 
 from the prince, on whom the king most willingly 
 bestows his lovely daughter. The magician repents of 
 his crimes and is reconciled to the prince, who after- 
 wards drove the usurper of his father’s throne out of 
 the country, and ruled over it many years in peace 
 and prosperit/.^ 
 
 It will be very evident on a comparative analysis 
 of the several stories above cited, that they have all 
 ^ S. M. Nat^sa Sdstri’s ‘ Dravidian Nights,’ pp. 8-18. 
 
MAGICAL TEANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 439 
 
 been derived, mediately or immediately, from one 
 source. Although they are found to differ more or 
 less one from another in the several metamorphoses 
 and their sequence, yet they all possess some incid- 
 ents in common. Thus, the transformation into a 
 horse occurs in the Italian, German, Austrian, second 
 Arabic (a she-mule), Norse, Danish, Albanian, Kal- 
 muk, and Tamil. The fish, in the first Arabic, Italian, 
 German, Austrian, Norse, Welsh, Kalmuk, and Tamil. 
 The hare and hound, in the Danish, Welsh, and Al- 
 banian. The bird and hawk, in the Norse, Danish, 
 Welsh, Kalmuk, and Tamil. The grain of seed, in the 
 Italian, Austrian, and Welsh; the worm, in the first 
 Arabic and the Tamil ; the ring, in the Italian, Norse, 
 and Danish ; the cock and fox, in the Italian, Norse, 
 Albanian, and Tamil. The pursued bird flies in at 
 the palace- window in the Norse, Danish, and Tamil ; 
 into the cell of a devotee, in the Kalmuk ; and in the 
 form of an apple in the Albanian version. 
 
 Akin to the Magical- Conflict cycle are stories in 
 which the hero is pursued by a fierce giant, or demon, 
 and escapes by means of certain objects which, thrown 
 behind him on his track, are instantly transformed 
 into obstacles difficult or impossible to be overcome 
 by the enemy. Sometimes the hero is running away 
 with a giant’s beautiful daughter who has become 
 deeply enamoured of him, and it is through her 
 supernatural skill that he is enabled to baffle the 
 
440 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 giant’s repeated attempts to re-capture him. Of this 
 class is the Gaelic story, in Campbeirs collection, en- 
 titled ''The Battle of the Birds,” in which a king’s 
 son wishes to marry the youngest daughter of a giant, 
 and having accomplished, by the help of the damsel 
 herself, three difficult tasks which the giant sets him 
 to do before he will give his consent, at night the 
 giant’s daughter tells the prince that they must fly, or 
 her father would kill him. So they mounted on the 
 grey filly in the stable. But before starting the 
 daughter cut an apple into nine shares : she put two 
 at the head of the bed, two at the foot, two at the 
 door of the kitchen, two at the house-door, and one 
 outside the house. The giant awoke and called, " Are 
 you asleep ? ” several times, and the shares answered 
 " No.” At last he went and found the bed empty and 
 cold, and pursued the fugitive couple. At the break 
 of day the giant’s daughter felt her father’s breath 
 burning her back. She told the prince to put his 
 hand in the horse’s ear, and fling what he found be- 
 hind him. He found a sprig of sloe, flung it behind 
 him, and produced a wood twenty miles long. The 
 giant had to go back for his axe and wood-knife. In 
 the middle of the day the prince finds in the horse’s 
 ear a piece of gray stone. This produces twenty miles 
 of gray rock behind him, and the giant has to go back 
 for his lever and mattock. When the giant has cut 
 his way through this second obstacle, the next thing 
 the prince finds in the filly’s ear and flings behind him 
 is a bladder of water, which produces a fresh-water 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 441 
 
 loch twenty miles broad, and in it the giant is fortun- 
 ately drowned.^ 
 
 A horse takes the place of the giant’s daughter as 
 mentor in a similar adventure of the hero of a Norse 
 tale, to which reference has been already made in com- 
 paring stories of Forbidden Eooms, pp. 203-205. The 
 widow’s son having, by the horse’s advice, taken the 
 whip of thorn, the stone, and the water-flask, he 
 mounted his equine friend and rode off at a rapid 
 rate. After riding some time, the horse said, ‘'I 
 think I hear a noise; look round, can you see any- 
 thing?” The youth answered, ''A great many are 
 coming after us, certainly a score at least.” Quoth 
 the horse, That is the Troll ; he is coming with all 
 his companions.” They travelled on for some time 
 until their pursuers were gaining on them. Throw 
 now the thorn-whip over your shoulder,” said the 
 horse, “ but throw it far away from me.” When the 
 youth had done what the horse desired, there sprang 
 up a large thick wood of briars. Then the youth rode 
 a long way, while the Troll was obliged to go home 
 for something wherewith to hew a road through the 
 wood. After some time the horse again said, ''Look 
 back, can you see anything now ? ” The youth re- 
 plied, “ Yes, a whole multitude of people, like a 
 church congregation.” Quoth the horse, ''Ah, that 
 is the Troll ; now he has got more with him ; so throw 
 
 Campbell’s ‘ Tales of the West Highlands,’ vol. i. pp. 32-34. 
 
442 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 out the large stone, but throw it far from me.” The 
 youth did so, and instantly there arose a large moun- 
 tain behind them. So the Troll was obliged to go 
 home for something with which to bore through the 
 mountain ; and while he was thus employed the youth 
 rode on a considerable W’ay. But now the horse again 
 bade him look back ; he then saw a multitude like a 
 whole army — they were so bright that they glittered in 
 the sun. ''Well, that is the Troll with all his friends,” 
 said the horse. " Now throw the water-bottle behind 
 you, and take good care to spill nothing on me.” The 
 youth did so, but notwithstanding his caution, he hap- 
 pened to spill a drop on the horse’s hips. Immedi- 
 ately there appeared a vast lake, and the spilling of a 
 drop caused the horse to stand far out in the water ; 
 nevertheless he at last swam to the shore. When the 
 Trolls came to the water they lay down to drink it 
 all up, and they gulped and gulped it down till they 
 all burst.^ 
 
 A very striking resemblance to these incidents is 
 found in a story in the ' Katha Sarit Sagara,’ chap. 39. 
 The daughter of a rakshasa having performed for her 
 lover the tasks which her father appointed him (see 
 
 ^ Thorpe’s ' Yule-Tide Stories ’ (Bohn’s ed. ), pp. 295, 296. — Simi- 
 lar incidents occur in one of Powell and Magnusson’s ' Icelandic Le- 
 gends.’ In Carleton’s ‘Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry,’ 
 a sprig, a pebble, and a drop of water produce a wood, a rock, and a 
 lake. And in the Sicilian story of Fata Morgana, a prince is pursued 
 by her and two lions. He throws successively three pomegranates 
 behind him : one produces a river of blood, the second a thorny 
 mountain, and the third a volcano. 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 443 
 
 ante, p. 239), the demon, in order to cause the hero’s 
 destruction, despatches him to his fierce brother, who 
 lived at two yojanas (about sixteen miles) distant, to 
 invite him to his daughter’s marriage. The damsel 
 gives him, before setting out, some earth, some water, 
 and some thorns, bidding him deliver his message, and 
 at once return at full gallop, but look often behind 
 him, and should he see the demon coming after him, 
 throw these things successively in his way. The youth 
 rode off, and after delivering his message, fled from the 
 place at full speed. And as soon as he turned his 
 head and looked round, he saw the demon coming after 
 him, so he quickly threw the earth behind him, and 
 immediately produced a great mountain. When he 
 saw that the rakshasa had, with much labour, climbed 
 over the mountain and was coming on, he threw the 
 water behind him, and it produced a great river in his 
 path with rolling waves. The rakshasa with difficulty 
 got across it, and was coming on, when the youth 
 quickly scattered the thorns behind him, and they 
 produced a dense thorny wood in the rakshasa’s path. 
 When the demon emerged from it, the prince threw 
 the fire behind him^ which set on fire the path with 
 the herbs and the trees ; and the demon, seeing that it 
 was hard to cross, returned home tired and terrified. 
 
 In the Magical-Conflict cycle of stories the meta- 
 morphoses are effected by the combatants in their own 
 persons. It now remains to notice some other kinds 
 
444 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 of transformations, in which sorcerers or magicians 
 change their victims into the forms of various animals, 
 and of which we have already had one example, from 
 the ‘ Arabian Nights,’ in the case of King Badr Bassim 
 and Queen Lab (p. 417). The Arabic language has 
 distinct terms for various metamorphoses: naskh is 
 change from a lower to a higher form, as beast to 
 man ; maskh is the reverse ; raskh is from animate to 
 inanimate (see ante, pp. 168, 169) ; and faskh is wasting 
 away. The methods adopted in fictions to effect such 
 changes are various. For instance, in the ‘Katha 
 Sarit Sagara’ a witch teaches a young woman two 
 spells, by reciting one of which a man can be changed 
 in a moment into an ape, if a string is fastened round 
 his neck, and on unloosing the string and reciting the 
 other spell, he becomes a man again ; and by sticking 
 a pin in a man’s head, at the same time uttering cer- 
 tain words, he is transformed into a bird, resuming his 
 proper shape when the pin is withdrawn^ 
 
 ^ In No. 16 of the ‘ Decisions of Princess Thoo-Dharma Tsari,’ a 
 Burmese story-book, translated by Capt. T. P. Sparks (Maulmain, 
 1851), two sisters having quarrelled about the possession of a young 
 man at length are reconciled and agree to let him go, but not in his 
 own form : “ They fastened a magic thread round the young man’s 
 neck, whereupon he was transformed into a small parrot, and flew 
 away back into his own country, and settled in the king’s garden, 
 where he lived upon the fruit.” The bird-catchers are employed to 
 snare the parrot, and having succeeded, as he was so beautiful, they 
 presented him to the king’s daughter. “ The princess, continually 
 playing with the parrot, one day noticed the thread, and taking it off*, 
 he instantly became a handsome young man ; and when she put it on 
 again he was changed back into a parrot.” This discovery, however, 
 led to consequences which proved rather awkward for the amorous 
 princess. 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFOKMATIONS. 
 
 445 
 
 Sometimes we find certain fruits or grasses produc- 
 ing like changes of form, as in the Eoman popular 
 tale cited on p. 97, where the hero by eating some 
 herbs that grew on a hill becomes a donkey. A 
 very close parallel to this is found in the ‘ Madana 
 Kamaraja Kadai’ : A young prince, who had been 
 treacherously abandoned on an island by a dancing- 
 girl and her mother (who decamped with his four 
 magical treasures), climbed a mango-tree which had 
 only four branches, and on eating the fruit of one 
 of these he was turned into a black ape ; the fruit of 
 another changed him into a kite ; that of a third 
 transformed him into an old woman; and on eating 
 of the fourth branch he was restored to human form. 
 In the ‘ Bahar-i Danush,’ a young man, having escaped 
 from a demon who lived on men’s flesh and sheep — 
 as Ulysses escaped from Polyphemus, by blinding him 
 with a red-hot iron spike — travelling through a forest 
 for several days without food, found a nest contain- 
 ing seven eggs of the size of a gourd, and each of a 
 different colour. Having ate one, he continued his 
 journey for seven days, when, having eaten the seventh 
 egg, suddenly beautiful feathers of many colours, and 
 at length wings, covered his body, and he was able 
 to fly. One day, after soaring through the air, he 
 alighted on a tree round which was a great multi- 
 tude of people, to whom he addressed himself as they 
 were going to shoot him. On hearing his adventures, 
 they had compassion, and took him under their pro- 
 tection. With them he remained seven years, at the 
 
446 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 expiry of which his wings and feathers fell off, and 
 he returned safely to his own country.^ 
 
 Certain waters also effect wonderful changes, mental 
 as well as physical, in those who drink of or bathe 
 in them. From Greek and Eoman classical sources 
 Boiardo probably adapted in his ' Orlando Innamorato,' 
 and Ariosto in his ' Furioso,’ the idea of the two magic 
 fountains, one of which inspired love, the other dis- 
 dain, which reappear in the old Spanish romance of 
 •Diana,’ by Montemayor. In the 14th chapter of 
 Swan’s ' Gesta Eomanorum ’ a princess by bathing in 
 a certain fountain becomes a leper. — In all the Eastern 
 texts of the Book of Sindibad, a prince on his way to 
 be married to the daughter of a mighty monarch, 
 came to a fountain, of which he drank, when lo ! he 
 nstantly became a woman, and his companion the 
 vazir abandoned him to his fate in the desert. He 
 
 ^ Dr Jonathan Scott’s translation, vol. iii. pp. 288-291. The 
 ‘ Bahar-i DJnush,’ or Spring (season) of Knowledge — Scott renders 
 it ‘ Garden of Knowledge ’ — was composed in Persian by ‘Inayatu- 
 ’llah of Delhi in the year of the Hijra 1061 (a.d. 1650). In the 
 author’s introduction, which is a florid imitation of the charming 
 preface to the ‘ Gulistd^n,’ or Rose-Garden, of the celebrated Persian 
 poet Sa^di, it is said that ‘‘ this heart-enticing story ” was communi- 
 cated to him by a young Brahman ; in other words, both the leading 
 story and the tales interwoven are adapted from Indian sources, 
 which are now well known. Scott’s version leaves much to be 
 desired, albeit he justly claims that it is fuller and more faithful 
 to the original than that of Dow : he was unable to give in English 
 the Persian names of flowers, which so frequently occur in the 
 romance ; his mode of transliteration is objectionable and antiquated ; 
 and he gives only brief abstracts of a number of stories in an appen- 
 dix, which might have been translated, with a few modifications, and 
 inserted in their proper places. 
 
MAGICAL TKANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 447 
 
 meets with a wandering horseman, who directs him to 
 another fountain, the waters of which restore his pro- 
 per sex, and he is duly united to his betrothed. — We 
 read of pools and lakes having similar properties in 
 several Indian story-books. Thus, in the ' Sinhasana 
 Dwatrinsati ’ (or Thirty-two Tales of a Throne), a 
 monkey descends from a tree, and bathing in a well 
 close by, is changed into a woman whenever a pious ” 
 hermit comes to converse with her, and by dipping 
 into the same well she becomes a monkey again — till 
 farther orders.” And in a romance which recounts 
 the adventures of two sons of a king, named Somasek- 
 hara and Chitrasekhara, one of them on a journey sees 
 a monkey in his gambols plunge into a pool and come 
 out a man; and a little farther on he leaped into 
 another pool, and issued from it a monkey as before. 
 The prince carries off some of the waters which pro- 
 duced these changes, and afterwards getting into his 
 power a rascally giant who had stolen his brother’s 
 bride, by means of some of the water of the second pool 
 changes him into a monkey, and sells him to a beggar, 
 who compels him to perform tricks for his benefit. 
 
 Belief in witchcraft — that most deplorable of popu- 
 lar delusions, that most heart-hardening phase of the 
 madness of crowds ” — was strong throughout Europe 
 during mediaeval times, and indeed long after intellec- 
 tual darkness was supposed to be dispelled by means 
 of the printing-press. King James I. of England, 
 
448 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 ycleped by his flatterers '' the Scottish Solomon,” and 
 by men of better judgment '' the wisest fool in Christ- 
 endom,” was a Arm believer in witchcraft, and en- 
 couraged witch-hunting in all parts of his dominions. 
 It is horrifying and blood-curdling to read of the tor- 
 tures which were inflicted upon decrepit old wretches 
 — often absolutely innocent, and generally the victims 
 of mental disease — in order to compel them to confess 
 their intimate connection with the devil and all his 
 works.” The stories of magical transformations re- 
 lated so minutely by grave authors as having occurred 
 in different parts of Europe, are all derived, as also 
 belief in witchcraft itself, directly or indirectly, from 
 Eastern sources. Heywood, in his curious and enter- 
 taining ^ History of Women,’ devotes a chapter to 
 anecdotes “ of witches who have either changed their 
 own shapes or transformed others.” After copious 
 references to eminent authorities for the fact that 
 some men can change themselves into wolves — such 
 being called by the Germans werwolff; by the French 
 hups garous ; by the Greeks lukanthropous, or mormo- 
 lukias ; and by the Eomans mrsipdUs, turn-skins — he 
 thus proceeds : '' Saint Augustine, in his book, ‘ De 
 Civitate Dei,’ lib. 18, caps. 17 and 18, tells us of 
 divers hostesses or innkeepers, practised in these dia- 
 bolical arts, who put such confections into a kind of 
 cheese they made, that all such travellers as guested 
 with them, and ate thereof, were presently metamor- 
 phosed into labouring beasts, as horses, asses, oxen, 
 all which they employed either in drawing or bearing 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 449 
 
 of burdens, or else let them out for hackneys to gain 
 profit by their hire ; and when their work was done 
 and they had made of them what benefit they could, 
 they restored them to their pristine shape. 
 
 Eanulphus and Gulielmus, ‘ De Eegib.,’ lib. 20, relate 
 a history of two such witches that lived in the road- 
 way to Eome : A minstrel or piper travelling that way, 
 tasted of this cheese, and was presently changed into 
 an ass, who, notwithstanding he had lost his shape, 
 still retained his natural reason; and (as one Banks 
 here about this city taught his horse to show tricks, by 
 which he got much money) so this ass, being capable 
 of what was taught him, and understanding what he 
 was bid to do, showed a thousand several pleasures 
 (almost impossible to be apprehended by any un- 
 reasonable creature) to all such as came to see him 
 and paid for the sight, insomuch that he was sold by 
 these witches to a neighbour of theirs for a great sum 
 of money ; but at the delivery of him saith one of the 
 witches, ‘ Take heed, neighbour (if you mean to have 
 good of your beast), that in any case you lead him not 
 through the water." The poor trans-shaped piper this 
 hearing, apprehends that water might be the means to 
 restore him to his former human figure, purposing in 
 himself to make proof thereof at his next best oppor- 
 tunity. Careful was the new merchant of the charge 
 given, and watered him still in a pail, but would never 
 let him drink from the river. But the master travel- 
 ling by the way, and, to ease his beast, alighting and 
 leading him in his hand, the ass on the sudden broke 
 VOL. I. 2 F 
 
450 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 his bridle, ran out of sight, and leaped into the next 
 river he came near, where, leaving his saddle and 
 furniture behind, he waded out in his own shape. 
 The man pursues him with all the speed he can, and 
 follows him the way he took. The first he meets is 
 the piper, and asks him if he saw not such a kind 
 of beast, and describes him to a hair. The fellow 
 acknowledgeth himself to have been the same ass he 
 bought of the witch. The master wondereth, and 
 relates this to his lord ; his lord acquaints this novel 
 to Petrus Damianus, a man of approved knowledge 
 and wisdom, and numbered amongst the greatest 
 scholars of his age; he examines the master, the 
 piper, the witches, and such as saw him leap into 
 the river a beast and return a man, and informs Pope 
 Leo VII. thereof. All their examinations and con- 
 fessions were taken, and a disputation of the possibility 
 thereof held in the presence of the Pope, before whom 
 the truth thereof was acknowledged and recorded. 
 The same history is told by Vincentius, in ^ Speculo,’ 
 lib. 3, cap. 109, and Fulgentius, lib. 8, cap. 11. 
 
 ‘‘We read in Gulielmus, archbishop of Tyrus, whom 
 Sprangerus, the Great Inquisitor, citeth to the same 
 purpose : An English soldier, being in Cyprus, was by 
 a witch transformed into an ass; and when all his 
 mates went on shipboard, he following them, as loath 
 to lose their fellowship, was, by his own friends and 
 countrymen, that gave him [up for] lost, beaten back 
 with clubs and staves. They put to sea without him. 
 He, having no other owner, returned back to the 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 451 
 
 witch’s house that had trans-shaped him, who employed 
 him in all her drudgeries, till at length he came into 
 the church when the bishop was at divine service, and 
 fell on his knees before the altar, and began to use 
 such devout gestures as could not be imagined to pro- 
 ceed from a brute beast; this first bred admiration, 
 and then suspicion. The witch was called before the 
 judges, examined, and convicted, after condemned to 
 the stake, having before restored him to his former 
 shape after three years’ transformation. 
 
 ''Answerable to this we read of Ammonius the 
 philosopher, of the sect of Peripatetics, who hath left 
 recorded that an ass came usually into his school at 
 the time of reading, and with great attention listened 
 to his lecture. Merchants have delivered that nothing 
 is more frequent in Egypt than such trans-shapes, inso- 
 much that Bellonius, in his observations printed at 
 Lutetia, saith that he himself in the suburbs of Cairo 
 (a great city in Egypt) saw a comedian that desired 
 conference with the ass that he himself rode on, who, 
 wondering what he then intended, gave him liberty of 
 free discourse ; where they seemed to talk with great 
 familiarity (as having been before acquainted), where 
 the ass by his actions and signs seemed to apprehend 
 whatsoever was spoken to him: when the one pro- 
 tested with the hand upon his breast, the other would 
 strike the ground with his foot; and when the man 
 had spoke as if he had told some jest, the ass would 
 bray aloud as if he had laughed heartily at the conceit, 
 appearing to him not only to apprehend and under- 
 
452 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 stand whatsoever was spoken, but to make answer to 
 such questions as were demanded him.” ^ 
 
 We should nowadays require even better authority 
 than that of Saint Augustine, Eanulphus, and Guliel- 
 mus, archbishop of Tyre, combined, to induce us to 
 credit such stories, which are simply Arabian and 
 Indian fictions in European masquerade. The ass 
 seems to have been the form of animal, according to 
 popular belief, into which witches and magicians 
 generally changed those whom they got into their 
 power and this notion is the basis of a diverting 
 Italian tale, ascribed, on slight grounds, to Michele 
 Colombo, the substance of which is as follows: 
 
 A poor labourer, named Gilbert, cultivated a small 
 enclosure, gathered faggots in a wood close by, brought 
 them home on his ass, and conveyed them to the 
 neighbouring market-town. He was a very simple 
 fellow, who could be made to believe almost any ab- 
 surdity. One day he left his ass tied to a tree in the 
 outskirts of the wood, and went farther into the in- 
 terior. Two monks of St. Francis, Father Antony 
 and Father Timothy, having rambled over the ad- 
 jacent districts, begging for the good of their convent, 
 were returning heavily laden, and, seeing the ass, 
 Timothy threw his wallet and that of Antony on the 
 beast, loosed the halter, and, placing it round his own 
 
 ^ Heywood’s ‘ History of Women,’ ed. 1657, lib. 8, pp. 573-575. 
 
 * In the ‘ Golden Ass ’ of Apuleius, when the sorceress Pamphile 
 turns herself into an owl, Apuleius asks her maid Fotis to change 
 him also into an owl, in order to follow her ; but she by mistake turns 
 him into an ass, in which form he sees and hears many curious things, 
 and he is at length restored to human shape by eating some roses. 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 453 
 
 neck, bids Antony to lead the ass to their convent, 
 and tell the brethren that he had been suddenly at- 
 tacked by fever, and had taken refuge in the house of 
 a benevolent peasant, who had lent him the ass, which 
 was to be returned next week. When Gilbert came 
 with his faggots and saw who it was that stood in the 
 animal’s place, he crossed himself, and was about to 
 run away. Timothy tells him that for his sins he had 
 been transformed into an ass, but he was now restored 
 to his own proper form. On hearing this wonderful 
 story, Gilbert says, And can you, good father, ever 
 forgive me the blows which you have had from my 
 hands, and the curses, moreover, which you have often 
 heard from my lips ? ” But Timothy assures him that 
 the blows were salutary castigation, according to the 
 will of Heaven: ‘'Take, then, thy wood upon thy 
 shoulder and go ; and may peace attend thee.” The 
 monk, however, is easily persuaded to put up for the 
 night at Gilbert’s cottage, as the hour is waxing late. 
 During supper he ogles Gilbert’s comely wife, which 
 the woodcutter observing, he warns the monk to be 
 circumspect, lest his former punishment again befall 
 him. Next day Father Timothy returns to his con- 
 vent, and informs the prior that Gilbert had made a 
 present of his ass to the convent ; so they resolve to 
 sell the beast, and send a trusty person with it to the 
 fair. Gilbert happened to be there, and at once re- 
 cognised his own ass, from the circumstance of its 
 having one ear cropped. Going up to the ass, he put 
 his mouth close to its ear and whispered softly, “ Alas, 
 good father, the rebellious flesh, then, has played thee 
 
454 
 
 POPULAR TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 another trick ! Did I not forewarn thee that this 
 would happen?” The ass, feeling a. breathing and 
 tickling in his ear, shook his head, as if not assenting. 
 
 Deny it not,” resumed Gilbert ; I know thee well : 
 thou art the self-same.” Again the ass shook its 
 head. ‘‘ Nay, deny it not — lie not,” rejoined the worthy 
 Gilbert, raising his voice somewhat — '' lie not, for that 
 is a great sin : thee it is ; yes, in spite of thyself, it is 
 thee.” The bystanders, seeing a man thus holding a 
 conversation with an ass, believed him to be crazy, 
 and gathering round him, began to put questions, 
 some about one thing, some about another, and Gilbert 
 advanced the strangest and most unaccountable facts, 
 always maintaining that this was not his ass, but in 
 truth a poor miserable Franciscan, who, for his carnal 
 frailties, was now uncomfortably a second time trans- 
 formed into this shape. Then he told from beginning 
 to end all the story of the incontinent friar meta- 
 morphosed into a beast of burden. His narrative was 
 greeted with bursts of laughter. Poor Gilbert was all 
 day the butt of the fair. At last he was induced to 
 buy the unlucky animal again ; and taking it home, 
 believing it to be no ass but the friar again trans- 
 formed, he would not employ it to carry his faggots, but 
 fed it until, like Jeshurun, it ‘'waxed fat and kicked.” 
 
 Alexis Piron has told the same story in French 
 verse, under the title of “ Le Cordelier Cheval,” which, 
 together with the Italian novel and translations of both, 
 was published at London in 1821.^ In the preface, 
 
 1 ‘ Tales of the Cordelier Metamorphosed, as narrated in a manuscript 
 from the Borromeo Collection, and in Le Cordelier Cheval of M. 
 
MAGICAL TRANSFOEMATIONS. 
 
 455 
 
 the translator, G. H., gives the following account of 
 the novel : The Italian novel, which I believe to be 
 now for the first time printed, existed in manuscript in 
 the collection of the late Count Borromeo of Padua, at 
 the sale of which, in 1817, it fell, among other trifies, 
 to my lot. It stands thus in the catalogue of that 
 sale: 'No. 250, Novella di Gianni andato al Boscoa 
 far legna, &c., in 4to, MS., inedita ’ ; and it is there, 
 upon what authority I know not, attributed, together 
 with some preceding articles of the catalogue, to 
 Michele Colombo. It attracted my notice from its 
 resemblance in the principal incidents of the story to 
 ‘ Le Cordelier Cheval,’ or, as it is sometimes entitled, 
 ' Le Moine Bride,’ of Alexis Piron, a tale which I have 
 always esteemed as not the least pleasant of that 
 author’s facetious effusions ; and suspecting that Piron, 
 like La Fontaine before him, often gathered his subjects 
 from some older record, I have looked in vain among 
 the earlier novelists for an original hint of this story. 
 Whether the Italian which I now present be such, or 
 merely an imitation, or whether both the narratives be 
 not borrowed with variations from preceding collections 
 of facetiae, I will not pretend to determine. Of Colombo 
 as a writer I have not met with any notice, but it 
 would seem that in Tiraboschi’s time he was possessed of 
 some curious books at Padua. Without better informa- 
 tion, one may reasonably doubt whether he was the 
 author of the articles which Borromeo attributed to him.” 
 
 In Piron’s version a man named Blaise was return- 
 
 Piron, with Translations.* London, 1821. 4to, 54 pages. The tales 
 are illustrated with a number of clever etchings. 
 
456 
 
 POPULAE TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 ing from market, where he had profitably disposed of 
 his oats and hay, and bought a horse to carry him 
 home. After riding some distance, the weather being 
 frosty, he dismounts in order to warm himself by 
 walking, and while he is trudging along, leading his 
 palfrey by the bridle, he is seen by two monks, who 
 steal the horse, as in the Italian story. When Blaise 
 (he is called Ealph in the English rendering) turns 
 round to mount his horse again, what was his surprise 
 to perceive the monk with the bridle round his neck ! 
 Father Peter explains that as a penance for having 
 indulged his carnal desires, he had been condemned 
 for seven years to live in the form of a horse, and his 
 time was now expired. Ealph (or Blaise) replies that 
 he can’t understand why his purse should have to pay 
 for the monk’s misdeeds ; but Heaven is just : he him- 
 self had also sinned and must do penance in his turn ; 
 the only difference between them being that the monk’s 
 mulct is paid, while his own has but begun. You’ve 
 been seven long years a horse, and it might come to 
 pass that I should be an ass for a similar period.” 
 However, the twenty marks that he paid for the 
 monk as a horse won’t ruin him — “ Go to your con- 
 vent, and beware for the future.” 
 
 The monk, with reverence profound, 
 
 Thrice clasped his knees, thrice kissed the ground ; 
 
 Then gaily and with quickened pace 
 Made off ; while Ralph, with rueful face, 
 
 Light purse, and bridle dangling loose, 
 
 Sneaked homeward, like a truant goose. 
 
 He kept his counsel ; not a word. 
 
 You may be sure, had e’er been heard 
 
MAGICAL TKANSFORMATIONS. 
 
 457 
 
 From him of his adventure rare, 
 
 Had he not one day at the fair 
 Espied his well-known horse, and nigh it 
 Stood Gregory about to buy it. 
 
 Ealph stared, but, laughing in his sleeve. 
 Whispered, “ Friend Gregory, by your leave. 
 This way — a word — that horse don’t buy — 
 
 I know him, and a good reason why ! 
 
 Don’t buy that horse, you’ll sadly rue 
 Your bargain one day, if you do. 
 
 Some morning, when you think on’t least, 
 Parading bravely on that beast 
 (A beast to look on not amiss). 
 
 You’ll find yourself — remember this — 
 
 Hey, presto ! pass than lightning fleeter 
 Mounted astride on Father Peter. 
 
 “ Astride on Peter ! 0 you jeer ! ” 
 
 “ Not I, indeed ; you’ll find him there. 
 
 With cord and cowl and chaplet meet, 
 
 A fat, gray Cordelier complete.” 
 
 Ealph then began to tell his tale — 
 
 The purchase — storm — Franciscan frail — 
 The penitence and all the rest ; 
 
 What happened since he shrewdly guessed : 
 
 “ Look you,” said he, this child of sin. 
 
 His lesson fast forgetting quite. 
 
 Has given the bait another bite ; 
 
 So here he is.” “ And here may be. 
 
 By th’ mass,” quoth Gregory, for me. 
 
 Pox take him and his liquorish story, 
 
 And his new lease of purgatory ! 
 
 Ealph, but for thee, I’d lost my chink ; 
 
 ’Tis ten pounds saved — let’s drink ! ” ^ 
 
 1 Peste ! interrompt Gregoire, 
 
 Qu’il aille au diable avec son hame 9 on, 
 
 Et ses sept ans de nouveau purgatoire ! 
 
 Vraiment, sans toi, j’etois joli garQon ; 
 
 C’est cinq cens francs que je gagne — aliens boire ! 
 
458 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 The story is also found in 'Facetiae Cantabrigienses/ 
 1825, p. 10, and in Bohn’s edition of 'Joe Miller’s 
 Complete Jest Book,’ printed in 1841 (No. 151) : 
 " Three or four roguish scholars, walking out one day, 
 espied a poor fellow near Abingdon asleep in a ditch, 
 with an ass by him laden with earthenware, holding 
 the bridle in his hand. Says one of the scholars to 
 the rest, ' If you will assist me. I’ll help you to a little 
 money, for you know we are bare at present,’ ” and so 
 on. When the poor fellow sees his ass offered for sale 
 at the fair, " Oh,” said he, " have he and his father 
 quarrelled again already ? No, no. I’ll have nothing 
 to say to him.” 
 
 The original of these three tales is perhaps found 
 in the Biilak and Calcutta printed Arabian texts of 
 the 'Thousand and One Mghts,’ where the story is 
 thus related : 
 
 A simple countryman was walking along, dragging 
 his ass after him by the halter, which a brace of sharp- 
 ers observing, one said to his fellow, " Come with me, 
 and I will take the ass from that man.” He then quietly 
 advanced to the ass, unloosed it from the halter, and 
 gave the beast to his confederate, who went off with it ; 
 after which the sharper passed the halter round his neck, 
 and allowed the man to drag him along until the other 
 rogue with the ass was out of sight, when he suddenly 
 stopped, and the man having tugged the halter several 
 times without effect, he looked back, and, amazed to 
 behold a man in place of his beast, exclaimed, " Who 
 art thou ? ” The sharper answered, " I was thy ass ; 
 
MAGICAL TEANSFOEMATIONS. 
 
 459 
 
 but hear my story, for it is wonderful. I have a 
 virtuous and pious mother, and one day I came home 
 intoxicated. Grieved to see me in such a condition, 
 she reproved me ; but, instead of being overwhelmed 
 with remorse, I beat her with a stick, whereupon she 
 prayed to Heaven, and in answer to her supplication I 
 was transformed into an ass. In that shape I have 
 been in thy service until this day, when, as it appears, 
 my mother has interceded for me, and I am restored 
 to the human form.” The simpleton, believing every 
 word of this story, raised his eyes to heaven, and said, 
 ‘‘ Of a truth there is no power or strength but from 
 Allah ! But pray forgive me for having used thee as 
 I have done.” The sharper readily granted forgive- 
 ness, and, taking leave of the simpleton, went off to 
 rejoin his companion and to dispose of the ass ; while 
 the countryman returned home, and showing his wife 
 the halter, told her of the wondrous transformation 
 which had taken place. His wife, in hopes of pro- 
 pitiating Heaven, gave alms, and offered up many 
 prayers, to avert evil from them, since they had used 
 a human being as a beast of burden. The simpleton, 
 having remained idle at home for some weeks, went 
 one day to purchase another beast at the market, and 
 on entering the place where the animals were all 
 fastened, he saw with amazement his own ass offered 
 for sale. Putting his mouth to its ear, he whispered, 
 “Woe to thee, unlucky ! Doubtless thou hast again 
 been intoxicated; but, by Allah, I will never buy 
 thee ! ” 
 
460 
 
 POPULAK TALES AND FICTIONS. 
 
 The English version does not appear to have been 
 derived from the French or the Italian, since its con- 
 clusion corresponds more closely with the Arabian 
 tale : the poor hawker’s exclamation, “ Oh, have he and 
 his father quarrelled again already ? Ho, no. I’ll have 
 nothing to say to him,” having its exact parallel in that 
 of the Arab simpleton, Doubtless thou hast again been 
 intoxicated ; but, by Allah, I will never buy thee ! ” ^ In 
 the Italian, story Gilbert buys his beast once more out 
 of pity for Father Timothy ; while in Piron’s version 
 the original owner dissuades a friend from purchasing 
 his horse. It is not at all probable that Piron adapted 
 his tale of ‘ Le Cordelier Cheval ’ from the Italian 
 novel, since he represents the simpleton as leading his 
 horse by the bridle, like the Arab countryman with his 
 ass ; while in the Italian story the animal was fastened 
 to a tree when it was discovered by the two monks. 
 The story may have been brought to France by some 
 Trouvere from the East ; — it is precisely such a tale as 
 would have been readily appropriated by the professors 
 of the gay science,” and from a falliau it may have 
 become orally current among the people. Its appear- 
 ance in Italy is no more remarkable than that of many 
 other stories which occur in the ‘ Arabian Mghts,’ con- 
 sidering the close commercial relations which were 
 once maintained by the Venetians with Syria and 
 Egypt, the countries where that famous story-book 
 almost certainly had its origin. 
 
 ^ Yet, so far as I am aware, the Arabian tale had not been rendered 
 into English when the Cambridge Jests were published. 
 
APPENDIX, 
 
 I. 
 
 The Inexhaustible Purse, etc. 
 
 A VARIANT of the story of the four young fakirs and the magical 
 treasures left them by their teachers, cited in p. 88, from 
 Miss Stokes’s ‘Indian Fairy Tales,’ is found in the Tamil ro- 
 mance, ‘ Madana Kamaraja Kadai,’ translated by Mr Natesa 
 Sastri, under the apt title of ‘ The Dra vidian Nights,’ p. 129. 
 The youngest of two brothers, in the course of his wanderings, 
 went one day to a tank to wash himself. While there he saw 
 at a short distance from him an old sanydsi (religious mendi- 
 cant) breathing his last. The sage was surrounded by four of 
 his disciples, to whom he was thus speaking : “ My students, I 
 have had possession for a long time of four objects which are as 
 dear to me as life. They are : a bag, which yields to one what- 
 ever he may want ; a cup, which serves up newly cooked meals 
 whenever you require them ; a cudgel, which would belabour 
 all your enemies if you aim it at them ; and a pair of sandals 
 which takes you wherever you wish to go. First bury me, and 
 then take these things for yourselves.” So saying, the sage 
 expired, and his disciples buried him close by, under a tree. 
 Then they quarrelled over the four things, and at length agreed 
 to place them in the hollow of an old tamarind-tree, and go to 
 the town in search of an arbiter. The youth was observing 
 from a distance what was passing, and as soon as they went 
 away he proceeded to the spot and took possession of the four 
 
462 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 treasures. But fearing that without the permission of the de- 
 parted soul of the sage these things would be of no benefit to 
 him, he went to the grave of the sanydsi and there said, My 
 respected sanydsi, your disciples fought over these rare treasures 
 and carelessly put them in the hollow of a tree ; I have taken 
 them out, and with your kind leave will make use of them.” 
 Then this answer came out of the grave : “You did very well in 
 taking possession of these objects, which will be of more service 
 to you than to those envious fellows.” 
 
 An analogue of the German, Bohemian, Kalmuk, and Bud- 
 dhist tales cited in pp. 110-116 is found in the same Tamil 
 romance (‘Dravidian Nights,’ p. 149 ff.) : The prince, in quest 
 of the pdrijdta flower, having, by the directions' of the third 
 sage, who opened his eyes every third watch, won the love 
 of a celestial maiden, she gives him a guitar on which he 
 had only to play, when she would appear and set before him 
 abundance of the most delicious viands. He goes back to the 
 third sage, and playing on his guitar, the damsel appears with 
 food as she had promised. The sage persuades the prince to 
 exchange his guitar for a cudgel that would put to death a vast 
 army in, the twinkling of an eye. By means of the club, which 
 goes back and kills the sage, the prince recovers his guitar, 
 which he exchanges with the second sage for an inexhaustible 
 purse, and with the first sage for magic sandals, each time re- 
 covering it by means of the all-powerful cudgel, which here per- 
 forms the part of Kreischwinger in the Kalmuk version and of 
 the hatchet in the Buddhist Birth-Story of Sakka’s Presents. — In 
 the German version, the hero twice recovers his magic table by 
 means of the article for which he exchanges it — a knapsack and 
 a hat ; and in the Bohemian story, a bagpipe brings it back to 
 him after exchanging it for a sack of wonderful virtue. 
 
 II. 
 
 “Who eats my Heaet,” etc. 
 
 In the story cited in p. 93 ff., from Miss Busk’s ‘ Folk- 
 Lore of Rome,’ one of the brothers, by eating, the head of a 
 
THE TKANSFOEMATION DONKEY. 
 
 463 
 
 bird, becomes emperor, and the other, by eating the heart, 
 is never without money, of which incident an Indian analogue 
 is given in p. 98. In the same tale from the ‘ Dravidian 
 Nights’ cited in the preceding note, the two brothers enter 
 a dense wood, in which is an extraordinary mango -tree that 
 yields one fruit once in a hundred years. To obtain that 
 fruit a sage was practising penance before the tree, and just 
 as the youths entered the wood the fruit dropped down at the 
 feet of the sage, who left it where it fell, and went off to bathe 
 before touching it. The younger brother, without being ob- 
 served by the elder, picked up the fruit and concealed it in the 
 midst of his rice-ball. The sage, on returning from his ablu- 
 tions, was distracted to find the fruit was gone, and overtaking 
 the brothers, asked them whether they had seen a mango-fruit 
 on the ground, to which they replied in the negative. Then 
 the sage began to weep and tear his long beard. “ What spe- 
 cial property is there in that fruit,” asked the younger brother, 
 “ that you should so much lament its loss ? ” Said the sage, 
 “ My dear son, he who eats the skin of that fruit will become a 
 king, and he who eats the seed, gems will drop from his mouth 
 every time he laughs.”! The youths then resumed their jour- 
 ney. In the evening they sat down beside a stream, and the 
 younger gave the elder some rice and the skin of the mango 
 fruit, and himself ate the seed, with the results predicted by 
 the sage. — I have before remarked (p. 445) that this story in 
 the sequel very closely resembles Miss Busk’s tale of ‘ The 
 Transformation Donkey.’ 
 
 1 In No. 5 of Rev. Lai Behari Day’s ‘ Folk-Tales of Bengal’ a fisher- 
 man brings a young merchant a fish, which if any one eats, when he 
 laughs the most precious gems will fall from his mouth, and when he 
 weeps pearls will drop from his eyes. Ill-used step-daughters are often 
 thus endowed in European fairy tales. In the Relations of Siddhf Kiir 
 we find a gold-spitting prince — see p. 125 of the present volume. In 
 Gonzenhach’s ‘ Sicilianische March en,’ a girl drops pearls and precious 
 stones from her hair whenever she combs it, to which Dr Kohler gives 
 many parallels in a note on this tale. In Coelho’s ‘ Contos Portuguezes, ’ 
 No. 36, pearls drop from the heroine’s mouth. In a Norse story gold 
 coins fall from the mouth of the heroine whenever she speaks ; and in a 
 Swedish tale, a gold ring. 
 
464 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 III. 
 
 The Good Man and the Bad Man — p. 245. 
 
 My conjecture that this story is of Buddhist extraction (p. 261) 
 seems borne out by the existence of a version current in Ceylon. 
 Under the title of the “Two Peasants/’ S. Jane Goonetilleke 
 gives a translation of it in ‘ The Orientalist/ 1885, pp. 150-152. 
 In this version two peasants left their native village to seek their 
 fortune. At the outset one of them said to the other, “ Friend, 
 if you provide out of your purse for both of us, I will do like- 
 wise when your money is all spent.” To this his companion 
 agreed, and whenever he cooked his rice he always gave his 
 friend half of it. When his stock of money was exhausted, he 
 asked his companion to give him some of his food, but he refused. 
 After being without food for some days, the poor peasant at last 
 consented to part with one of his eyes for a spoonful, and soon 
 afterwards the other eye was also taken out by his wicked 
 comrade, who then left him at the foot of a tree and went his 
 own way. The blinded peasant overhears a party of rakshasas 
 who were in the tree conversing together. One said, “ All are not 
 aware of the rare qualities of this tree. Any blind man will 
 have his sight restored to him, if he will only rub his eyes with 
 some of its juice.” “ That is not all,” said another : “ if a man 
 should eat one of these leaves, he would not get hungry for seven 
 days and seven nights.” “ More than that,” said a third : “ if a 
 man eat the fruit of this tree, he will become a king in seven 
 days.” When the rakshasas had gone away, the poor man 
 contrived to scrape away part of the bark of the tree, and thus 
 obtained a little of its juice, which he at once applied to his 
 eyes and he immediately recovered his sight. When he had 
 eaten some of the leaves he felt quite strong, and then climbing 
 to the top of the tree he ate of the fruit, convinced that he should 
 become king in seven days. He set off and reached a town on 
 the seventh day, and during all the time he did not once feel 
 the pangs of hunger. Seating himself outside a rest-house 
 
THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN. 
 
 465 
 
 (for the company within Vould not have such a dirty and ragged 
 fellow amongst them), the late king’s elephant came past to 
 choose a successor, and kneeling down before the peasant, he 
 was at once acknowledged and crowned kingd Now his false 
 friend had before arrived at the same city, and married the 
 daughter of the prime minister, and when he saw the new king 
 he was struck with his resemblance to the man he had so cruelly 
 blinded ; but fearing to ask a direct question, he one day said 
 to him, “ Sire, is it possible for a blind man by any means to 
 recover his sight % ” The king answered, It is not impossible. 
 If a man only sought it he would find a remedy even for blind- 
 ness.” So the prime minister resolved to get some one to treat 
 him as he had done his comrade, and set out from the city with 
 his wife, having instruced her how to act. First the man provided 
 food for both, and when his stock of money was all spent, his 
 wife treated him in the same way he had treated his friend, and 
 finally left him bound under a tree. Before parting she told 
 him where he would find her when he had become king. The 
 woman went on till she came to a shepherd’s hut, and obtained 
 leave to stay there for seven days till her husband the king came 
 to take her away. Seven days passed, but there was no sign of 
 the king, and when other seven days had elapsed, the shepherd 
 lost all patience, upon which the woman told him the whole 
 story. The shepherd repaired to the spot to find out what had 
 happened to the man, and there he found his carcase surrounded 
 by eagles and other ravenous birds and animals. Keturning 
 home, the would-be queen eagerly questioned the shepherd as to 
 the fate of her husband, and asked him whether he had indeed 
 been crowned king. “Oh, yes,” replied he, “ I found him sur- 
 rounded by so many of his subjects, that I could not exchange 
 one word with him, and tell him of your welfare, but now you 
 can go and see for yourself.” So saying, he drove her out of his 
 house as an adventuress. 
 
 1 This singular mode of choosing a successor to the throne occurs in 
 many Indian tales, and it seems to have been actually practised at one 
 time. 
 
 2 G 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
466 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 lY. 
 
 Encounters with Ogres, etc. 
 
 The beautiful episode “ Baka-badha ” which occurs in the 
 first book of the ‘ Mahabharata,’ and which has been done into 
 English verse by Dean Milman, under the title of the “ Brah- 
 man’s Lament” (see pp. 163, 164), seems adapted in one of the 
 Eev. Lai Behari Day’s ‘ Folk-Tales of Bengal,’ pp. 73-77 : 
 
 Two youths, Champa Dal and Sahasra Dal, arrived one even- 
 ing at a village, and became guests in the house of one of its 
 most respectable inhabitants. They found the members of the 
 family in deep gloom. Evidently there was something agitat- 
 ing them very much. Some of them held private consultations, 
 and others were weeping. The eldest lady of the house, the 
 mother of its head, said aloud, “ Let me go, as I am the oldest. 
 I have lived long enough ; at the utmost my life would be cut 
 short only by a year or two.” The youngest member of the 
 house, who was a little girl, said, “ Let me go, as I am useless 
 to the family ; if I die, I shall not be missed.” The head of the 
 house, the son of the old lady, said, “ I am the head and repre- 
 sentative of the family ; it is but reasonable that I should give 
 up my life.” His younger brother said, ‘‘You are the main 
 prop and pillar of the family ; if you go the whole family is 
 ruined. It is not reasonable that you should go ; let me go, 
 as I shall not be much missed.” The two strangers listened 
 to all this conversation with no little curiosity. They won- 
 dered what it all meant. Sahasra Dal at last, at the risk 
 of being thought meddlesome, ventured to ask the head of 
 the house the subject of their consultations, and the reason 
 of the deep misery but too visible in their countenances and 
 words. He answered, “ Know then, worthy guests, that this 
 part of the country is infested by a terrible rakshasi/ who 
 has depopulated all the regions round. This town, too, would 
 have been depopulated, but that our king became a suppliant 
 
 1 Female demon of the rakshasa species. 
 
ENCOUNTERS WITH OGRES, ETC. 
 
 467 
 
 before tbe rakshasi, and begged her to show mercy to us his sub- 
 jects. The rakshasi replied, ‘ I will consent to show mercy to 
 you and your subjects only on this condition, that you every 
 night put a human being, either male or female, in a certain 
 temple for me to feast upon. If I get one every night I will 
 rest satisfied, and not commit farther depredations on your sub- 
 jects.’ Our king had no alternative but to agree to this condi- 
 tion ; for what human beings can ever hope to contend against a 
 rakshasi ? From that day the king made it a rule that every 
 family in the town should in its turn send one of its members 
 to the temple as a victim to appease the wrath and satisfy the 
 hunger of the terrible rakshasi. All the families in this neigh- 
 bourhood have had their turn, and this night it is the turn for 
 one of us to devote himself to destruction. We are therefore 
 discussing who should go. You must now perceive the cause 
 of our distress.” The two friends consulted together for a few 
 minutes, after which Sahasra Dal said, Most worthy host, do 
 not any longer be sad. As you have been very kind to us, we 
 have resolved to requite your hospitality by ourselves going to 
 the temple and becoming the food of the rakshasi^ "We go as 
 your representatives.” The whole family protested against the 
 proposal. They declared that guests were like gods, and that it 
 was the duty of the host to endure all kinds of privation for the 
 comfort of the guest, and not the duty of the guest to suffer for 
 the host. But the strangers insisted on being proxy for the 
 family, who at length reluctantly consented to the arrangement. 
 
 Immediately after candle-light, Sahasra Dal and Champa 
 Dal, with their horses, installed themselves in the temple and 
 shut the door. Sahasra told his brother to go to sleep, as he 
 himself was determined to sit up the whole night and watch 
 against the coming of the terrible rakshasi ; and Champa was 
 soon sound asleep, while his brother lay awake. Nothing hap- 
 pened during the early hours of the night ; but no sooner had 
 the king’s gong announced the hour of midnight than Sahasra 
 heard a sound as of a rushing tempest, and immediately con- 
 cluded, from his knowledge of rakshasas, that the rakshasi was 
 nigh. Presently he heard a thundering knock at the door, 
 followed by these words : 
 
468 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 “ How, mow, khow ! 
 
 A human being I smell ; i 
 Who watches inside ? ” 
 
 Saliasra Dal replied, 
 
 “ Saliasra Dal watcheth, 
 
 Champa Dal watcheth, 
 
 Two winged horses watch.” 
 
 On hearing this the rakshasi turned away with a groan, know- 
 ing that Sahasra Dal had rakshasa blood in his veins. An hour 
 after she returned, and again at two o’clock and at three o’clock, 
 and made the same inquiry, and obtaining each time the same 
 answer, went away with a groan. After three o’clock, however, 
 Sahasra Dal felt very sleepy ; he could no longer keep awake ; 
 so he roused his brother, told him to watch, and strictly enjoin- 
 ing upon him, in reply to the query of the rakshasi, to mention 
 his (Sahasra’s) name first, he went to sleep. At four o’clock 
 the rakshasi again returned, thundered at the door, and said, 
 
 How, mow, khow ! 
 
 A human being I smell ; 
 
 Who watches inside ? ” 
 
 As Champa Dal was in a great fright, he forgot for the moment 
 his brother’s injunction, and answered : 
 
 “ Champa Dal watcheth, 
 
 Sahasra Dal watcheth. 
 
 Two winged horses watch.” 
 
 On hearing this reply the rakshasi uttered a shout of exultation, 
 laughed as only demons can laugh, and with a dreadful noise 
 broke open the door. The noise roused Sahasra, who in a 
 moment sprang to his feet, and with his sword, which was as 
 supple as a palm-leaf, cut off the head of the rakshasi. The 
 huge mountain of a body fell to the ground, making a great 
 noise, and lay covering many an acre. 
 
 1 This is the ‘‘Fe, fo, fum !” of our nursery tale of Jack and the 
 Giants. Ogres and such-like monsters readily scent the presence of a 
 human being. See the note in p. 134. 
 
'CUPID AND psyche’ LEGENDS. 469 
 
 V. 
 
 'Cupid and Psyche’ Legends. 
 
 The eighth of the Kev. Lai Behari Day’s ' Folk-Tales of 
 Bengal’ presents, in the second part (the first belongs to the 
 “ Outcast Child ” cycle), some resemblance to the modern Greek 
 version of the 'Cupid and Psyche’ legend cited in pp. 243, 
 244, in connection with stories of secrets learned from birds. 
 A young lady is married to a mysterious youth. Prince Sobur,^ 
 who had sent her a box containing a looking-glass and a fan, 
 and when she had shaken the fan, he stood before her. The 
 six sisters of the bride, envying her good fortune, determined to 
 cause the death of the prince. They broke some bottles, re- 
 duced the fragments to a fine powder, and scattered it on the 
 nuptial couch. The prince had no sooner laid himself down 
 than he felt the most acute pain, for the fine glass-powder had 
 penetrated all his body. As he was writhing and shrieking, 
 his attendants hastily took him away to his own country. The 
 young bride, on discovering that her husband had been spirited 
 away, was distracted with grief, and though she had never seen 
 his country, she determined to seek it out, however far distant 
 it might be. So she put on the dress of a religious mendicant, 
 and set out on her journey. She soon became weary, and sat 
 under a tree to rest. On the top of the tree was the nest of the 
 celestial bird Bihangama and his mate. They were absent at 
 the time, but two of their young ones were in the nest. Pres- 
 ently they gave a loud scream, and the pretended mendicant 
 looking up discovered a monstrous snake climbing the tree, and 
 in a moment she cut the snake in two with a dagger which she 
 carried. Soon after this the parent birds return, and their young 
 ones relate how the mendicant at the foot of the tree had killed 
 a snake that was climbing up to destroy them. The Bihangama 
 then said to his mate that they must do her a service, for the 
 person under the tree was not a sanydsi, but a woman who had 
 
 1 Query — Pers. sdbr, meaning patience ” ? 
 
470 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 been married last nigbt to Prince Sobur, who a few hours after, 
 on laying himself down on his bed, had been sorely injured with 
 fine particles of glass which had been spread there by his 
 envious sisters-in-law, and was now in his native country and 
 at the point of death. The bird then goes on to explain to his 
 mate that if their dung, which is lying about the tree and is 
 hardened, be reduced to powder and applied with a brush to the 
 body of the prince after bathing him seven times with seven 
 jars of water and seven jars of milk, he will certainly get well, 
 adding that he himself will carry her on his back to the capital 
 of the province. The poor girl, having heard this conversation, 
 begged the Bihangama to carry her to the prince, and he readily 
 consented. Before mounting the bird, she gathered a quantity 
 of the specific, and arriving at the palace of the prince, applied 
 it to his body as the bird had directed, and he was perfectly 
 cured. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Aladdin’s Wonderful Lamp. 
 
 Another Arabian Variant. 
 
 The variant of Galland’s story found in the tale of Kariif — 
 the last in the Bulak and Calcutta printed Arabic texts of the 
 ‘Book of the Thousand and One Nights’ — had escaped my 
 memory for the time, else I should have added an abstract of 
 it to the tale of the Fisherman’s Son (p. 330 ff.), from the 
 Wortley Montague MS. of ‘ The Nights.’ The story of Mariif is 
 evidently composed of incidents taken from a number of separ- 
 ate tales, and I shall confine my abstract to the portion which 
 resembles Galland’s tale of Aladdin : 
 
 Maruf having married the sultan’s daughter “under false 
 pretences ” — he had given out that he was a wealthy merchant 
 and daily expected the arrival of his grand caravan — the chief 
 vazir, who had all along asserted that he was an impostor, at 
 length prevailed upon the king to urge his daughter to wheedle 
 out of him the real facts of the case. So one night Mariif con- 
 
Aladdin’s wonderful lamp. 
 
 471 
 
 fessed to her that he was not a merchant, and that the caravan 
 had no existence. Upon this the princess, who was fondly at- 
 tached to Mariif, said that, should this come to her father’s knovr- 
 ledge, his death was certain, and he had better fly at once to a 
 distant land, and at her father’s death she would send for him. 
 She then gave him a purse of gold, together with a mamliik’s 
 dress, and before dawn Maruf disguised himself and left the 
 city undiscovered by any one. In the morning the princess in- 
 formed her father that Maruf having yesterday received a letter 
 from the chief of his caravan stating that it had been plundered 
 by a gang of Arabs to the extent of two hundred bales of mer- 
 chandise, he had set off with the messenger to bring the cara- 
 van safely into the city, and thus defeat the vile machinations of 
 the vazir. The sultan believed the story, and joined with his 
 daughter in reviling the minister, who, trembling for his head, 
 was forced to bear all in silence. 
 
 Meanwhile Maruf fared on, he knew not whither, till, about 
 mid-day, he came near a village, and seeing in a field a peasant 
 guiding a plough drawn by oxen, he approached and asked him 
 for some food. The man, supposing him to be one of the sul- 
 tan’s mamliiks, readily answered that he would at once proceed 
 home and fetch such as his house could furnish. So saying, he 
 left his plough and oxen, and hastened to the village. Left to 
 his own reflections, Maruf thought that since the man had 
 quitted his work to oblige him, the least he could do was to 
 continue it for him. Scarcely had Maruf ploughed a furrow 
 before the ploughshare struck against something hard in the 
 ground, and while endeavouring to disengage it, he discovered a 
 large ring of iron fixed in a marble slab.i His curiosity was 
 strongly excited. He pulled the ring with all his strength, and 
 raised up a slab, which turned on a hinge. A few steps were 
 then discovered, which having descended, Maruf entered a 
 cavern about the size of a bath, and heaped on all sides with 
 gold, emeralds, rubies, and other gems, beyond all price. This 
 place led to other chambers containing vast riches, and the suite 
 terminated in an apartment in which was nothing more than a 
 
 1 This incident occurs in several Eastern stories — e.g,^ the tale of 
 Abdullah of Khurasan, in Malcolm’s ' Sketches of Persia/ ch. xi. 
 
472 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 coffer of crystal, enclosing a little box made of one entire 
 diamond. Curious to know what it contained, Mariif opened 
 the box, and discovered a gold ring, quite plain, except that 
 around it some mysterious talismanic characters were engraved. 
 As he was fitting this ring on his finger he heard a voice ex- 
 claiming, “What wouldst thou — what wouldst thou, master 
 and he beheld at his side a hideous figure, with a most extra- 
 ordinary countenance, who continued to address him in these 
 words : “ What are thy commands 1 — speak ; I obey thee. What 
 land shall I cover with flowers ? what kingdom shall I ravage ? 
 what army shall I cut in pieces ? what king shall I slay ? what 
 mountains shall I level with the valleys ] what sea shall I lay 
 dry ? — speak ; I obey. I am thy slave, by permission of the 
 Master of spirits, the Creator of day and night I ” “ What art 
 
 thou ? ” asked Mariif. “ I am,” replied the figure, “ a genie, the 
 slave of this ring, and of the powerful Name thereon engraved. 
 To the possessor of this ring I must submit myself, and execute 
 his commands. Nothing exceeds my power, for I am a king 
 among the genii and command seventy-two tribes, each of which 
 is composed of twelve thousand genii of my species, called Hn, 
 Each Tin has under his command one thousand ifrits; every 
 ifrit, one thousand shaytans ; and every shaytan, a thousand in- 
 ferior genii. Over all these I rule ; but, mighty as I am, I sub- 
 mit to thee and this ring. I obey thee with all I possess, and 
 am thy devoted slave. Command ! I hear thee and obey; with 
 the rapidity of lightning I fulfil thy orders. When thou re- 
 quirest my succour, be thou on land or on sea, rub this ring, 
 invoke me by the power of the name engraved thereon, and 
 thou shalt instantly behold me.” 
 
 Maruf then desired that the treasures should be transported 
 to the surface of the earth, and in an instant the floor of the 
 cave opened, and two young boys of great beauty appeared, 
 bearing on their heads baskets of gold, which they proceeded to 
 fill with the precious stones that lay scattered around. “ Can 
 you procure mules and coffers to transport this treasure ? ” asked 
 Mariif. “Nothing is more easy,” replied the genie, and utter- 
 ing a loud cry he summoned all his children, who were as 
 beautiful as the first two. At the command of their father, 
 
ALADDIN S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 473 
 
 some of these transformed themselves into mules, some into 
 mnle-drivers, and others into mamluks mounted on superb 
 horses, to guard the caravan. Three hundred mules were soon 
 laden with cases, containing the most precious gems and pure 
 gold. Maruf then commanded his new slaves to pitch tents 
 and form a camp, to raise him a pavilion and serve up a repast. 
 
 At this moment the peasant arrived with a dish of lentils, 
 some black bread, and a bag of barley. When he saw the camp 
 and pavilion and the crowd of mamluks and mules, he imag- 
 ined the sultan had arrived, of whom Maruf had been the 
 avant-courier. “ Holy Prophet ! ” said he to himself, where- 
 fore did I not kill and cook my two hens ? The sultan will 
 cut off my head in return for this sorry fare ! ” Maruf, having 
 perceived him, ordered one of the mamluks to desire his pre- 
 sence in the pavilion. “ What hast thou got there he asked. 
 “Your dinner and that of your horse,” replied the villager. 
 “ But I pray you, pardon me : had I known that the sultan 
 would have halted here, I would have killed two hens which 
 I have at home, and stewed them in butter.” “Set down 
 your lentils,” replied Maruf ; “ I am so hungry that I shall eat 
 them with pleasure. The sultan is not here ; but I am his 
 relation. You treated me well, though you knew me not ; 
 therefore I shall not forget to be grateful.” Maruf made his 
 dinner of the humble plate of lentils, notwithstanding that the 
 genie, to tempt his appetite, served up the most delicious meats, 
 of such rich flavour that the villager stood amazed at the sight. 
 As soon as Maruf had devoured the last lentil with much ap- 
 pearance of appetite, he heaped the plate with gold and precious 
 stones, and returned it to the astonished peasant, who, declaring 
 he was enriched for life, then returned to the village with his 
 plough and oxen, fully convinced that his guest was the son of 
 the sultan. 
 
 Thus far after the style of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ but the 
 sequel must be related with brevity. Mariif having passed the 
 night in feasting and beholding the dances of the daughters 
 of the genie, whom he had summoned to amuse him, early 
 next morning set out for the sultan’s capital, with 700 mules 
 laden with rich merchandise and attended by 500 mam- 
 
474 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 liiks. The vazir had just been declaring to the sultan 
 that Maruf was an impostor and he would never see his 
 face again, when a genie, disguised as a messenger, arrived, to 
 intimate the approach of the sultan’s son-in-law at the head of 
 his grand caravan. “May Allah confound thy beard, traitor 
 that thou art ! ” exclaimed the sultan, turning fiercely to his 
 vazfr. “Art thou not at last convinced, wretch, of the grandeur 
 of my son-in-law ] ” The vazir, terror-struck, threw himself on 
 his knees, and the sultan gave orders to illuminate the city. 
 On the arrival of Mariif, he caused the royal treasury to be 
 filled with gold and gems and silks, 'and other precious stuffs. 
 The princess met her husband with joy, and having embraced 
 him and kissed his hands, said with a smiling countenance, 
 “ You have amused yourself, my lord, at my expense, by your 
 tale of poverty ; you wished, doubtless, to put my affection to 
 the proof. Thanks be to Allah, you are happily restored to me ; 
 for whether rich or poor you are not less dear ; I love yourself, 
 not your wealth.” When the 700 mules and the 500 mamluks 
 were found to have disappeared the following morning, the 
 suspicions of the vazfr were once more aroused — Mariif could 
 certainly be no merchant. So he advised the sultan to ascer- 
 tain the cause of his great wealth, lest he should prove danger- 
 ous to his government. “ Invite him to a banquet, ply him 
 with wine, and then question him concerning his treasures.” 
 The sultan accordingly invited Mariif to a grand feast, and 
 when he was warmed with wine, asked him to relate his ad- 
 ventures. So Mariif in an evil hour told the whole story. “ I 
 pray thee, my son,” then said the sultan, “show me this ring 
 of wonderful power.” Mariif drew the ring from his finger, 
 and gave it to the vazfr, to lay it before the sultan ; but as 
 soon as the vazfr touched the ring, he summoned the genie and 
 commanded him to convey Mariif to some desert and there 
 leave him to perish. The genie immediately obeyed the order 
 of the new possessor of the ring. - Then the vazfr again sum- 
 moned the genie and ordered him to convey the sultan to the 
 same spot where he had left Mariif, which being done, he as- 
 sembled the divan and compelled them to acknowledge him as 
 sultan. The next step of the vazfr was to insist on marrying 
 
ALADDIN’S WONDEKFUL LAMP. 
 
 475 
 
 the princess, who, being threatened with death if she should 
 refuse compliance, had no resource but in stratagem. At a 
 banquet in the evening, she pretended that she had long 
 secretly loved him, but she was afraid of a genie whom, she had 
 been informed, he held captive in a ring, and if he would con- 
 sent to divest himself of that terrible companion, she would be 
 his slave for life. Deceived by her flattering words, the vazir 
 drew the ring from his finger and flung it to a distance. The 
 princess then presented him with a cup full of wine, which she 
 had first pressed to her own lips, and he continued to carouse 
 till his senses were utterly intoxicated, after which the princess 
 Seized the ring, summoned the genie, and commanded him to 
 secure the vazir and restore her husband and father. The 
 moment Maruf and the sultan were brought back to the palace 
 the latter caused the vazir’s head to be struck off ; but when he 
 desired his daughter to give him the ring, she replied that men 
 who carouse over wine-cups are not to be trusted with unlim- 
 ited power, and so she should give it neither to him nor her 
 husband, but keep it in her own possession. 
 
 In this version, as in Galland and the Story of Cajusse 
 (p. 314 ff.), the talisman is not recovered by means of grateful 
 animals, which was most probably the original form of the story, 
 since they play the principal parts in the European variants, in 
 the Arabian tale of the Fisherman’s Son, and in the Mongolian 
 and the Tamil versions, a circumstance which, as 1 have before 
 remarked, would seem to indicate that the tale is of Buddhist 
 extraction and this conjecture is strengthened by the existence 
 of a Burmese version in a story-book translated by Captain T. P. 
 Sparks, under the title of ‘ The Decisions of Princess Thoo- 
 dhamma Tsari,’ printed at Maulmain in 1851, which is as 
 follows : 
 
 1 Although the Fisherman’s Son is represented as purchasing the dog, 
 the cat, and the rat in order to divert his melancholy by their tricks, and 
 “these seeming animals proved to be magicians,” we must regard this as 
 a corruption of the Mongolian story, in which the hero buys the three 
 animals to save them from being tortured. The alteration of the Arabian 
 compiler is very clumsy, and spoils the story to some extent. 
 
476 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Burmese {Buddhist) Version, 
 
 During the era of Gaunag6ng,i a prince, a young noble, a rich 
 man’s son, and a poor man’s son were being educated together 
 in the country of Tekkatho.^ Having learned as much as they 
 wished, they asked their teacher to discourse to them upon the 
 benefits resulting from a good quality to. its possessor. Their 
 teacher then related to them the following story : 
 
 Soon after the commencement of the world, there dwelt in 
 Gahapati Waytha four very rich men, between whom there 
 existed the warmest friendship, so that each sought only the 
 interest of the others. After a time one of them died, leaving an 
 only son, to whom his mother said, ‘‘ My dear boy, your father, 
 my husband, is dead, you are therefore now in his place and 
 are entitled to his estate ; but you are still very young ; go, there- 
 fore, to your father’s three friends, and learn from them wisdom 
 and prudence.” Thus saying, she gave him three hundred 
 pieces of money, and dismissed him. 
 
 The youth started on his way to his father’s friends, with a 
 retinue of attendants befitting his station. As he was journey- 
 ing, he met a man with a dog. ‘‘ Hey, fellow,” said he, “ will 
 you sell your dog ? ” The man replied, ‘‘ If you want to buy 
 him, give me a hundred pieces for him.” The youth gave the 
 sum demanded, and sent the dog back to his mother, with an 
 account of what he had done. Supposing that her son had 
 obtained the sanction of her late husband’s friends to his pur- 
 chase, she fed and tended the dog with the greatest care. 
 Another day, after his mid-day meal, he was walking along 
 when he fell in with a man who had a cat, which he asked him 
 whether he would sell. ‘‘ You may have her for a hundred 
 pieces,” said the man. The lad paid the money and sent the 
 
 1 The twenty-fifth Buddha. 
 
 2 “The Pali name of Tekkatho is Tekkathela or Tekkasela, and we 
 know that kha corresponds to the Sanskrit ksha, so the Sanskrit name is 
 Tekshela, which is the famous Taxila of Ptolemy, in the time of Alexander 
 the Great Hhe largest and wealthiest city between the Indus and the 
 Hydaspes.’” — ‘Notes on the Ancient History of Burmah,’ by the Rev. F. 
 Mason. 
 
ALADDIN S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 477 
 
 cat to his mother as before, and she, under the same impression 
 as in the previous case, treated the cat with the same attention 
 as she did the dog. Another day he met a man with an ichneu- 
 mon, which he inquired whether he would part with. The man 
 said he would, and on being asked the price, demanded a hun- 
 dred pieces. The rich man’s son paid the money, and sent the 
 ichneumon to his mother, who, supposing as before, received 
 and fed it. 
 
 Now the dog and the cat being domestic animals, she kept them 
 in the house without any fear, but the ichneumon, being a wild 
 animal, she was in such dread of it that she wasted away. Her 
 spiritual teacher coming to her house to receive his meal of 
 cooked food, she went down to give it to him, when, on seeing 
 her, he exclaimed, “Why, my disciple, how thin you have 
 grown ! ” He then recited the eight accidents to which human 
 life is liable.^ The rich man’s widow replied, “ The only reason 
 is this : having given my son three hundred pieces of money 
 and sent him to his father’s three friends to learn how to 
 manage his affairs with prudence, one day he sends me a dog, 
 on another, a cat, and on a third, an ichneumon, for each of 
 which he paid a hundred pieces. Now the dog and the cat are 
 domestic animals, and I am not afraid of them ; but the ichneu- 
 mon is a wild animal, and if I only look at it even, I am so 
 frightened that my body, limbs, and eyes are all wasting away.” 
 The priest told her to let the ichneumon loose in the jungle, 
 and it being wrong to disobey the commands of one’s teacher or 
 one’s parents, she turned it loose, giving it at the same time 
 some food smeared over with oil for its subsistence. 
 
 On arriving at the jungle, the ichneumon said to himself, 
 “ The rich man’s son gave a hundred pieces for me, and since I 
 have been in his possession he has had me well fed and taken 
 care of, and has been the cause of my obtaining life and liberty. 
 I will repay the obligation I am under to my benefactor.” Thus 
 meditating, he took up in his mouth a ruby ring which he 
 found in the jungle, and carrying it to the rich man’s son, gave 
 
 1 These are ; (1) Success in one’s undertakings ; (2) dignity and splen- 
 dour ; (3) honour and fame ; (4) happiness ; and their four opposites. 
 
478 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 it to him, saying, This is no common ring ; it possesses the 
 power of gratifying every wish of its owner. Wear it constantly, 
 therefore, on your finger, and on no account allow any one 
 else to wear it. The ichneumon then returned to the jungle. 
 And the rich man’s son wished, and during the night a palace 
 with a pinnacled roof rose up in front of his house. All the 
 people of the country, from the king downwards, came to see 
 this sight, and the king gave him his daughter in marriage. 
 
 Soon afterwards the princess’ teacher came to see if he 
 could discover the prince’s talisman. He looked, hut could see 
 nothing except the ring. Watching his opportunity, on one 
 occasion when the prince had gone out, he entered the palace, 
 and after making flattering speeches to the princess, asked her 
 whether her husband loved her. ^^How can you ask such a 
 question as that ? ” replied she. “ He is only a rich man’s son, 
 while I am the daughter of the king.” If he loves you so 
 much, you have been, perhaps, allowed to wear his ring ? ” 
 insinuated the Brahman. “If I have not worn it,” returned 
 she, “ pray who should ? ” After this the Brahman retired. A 
 day or two later, the princess asked her husband to let her wear 
 his ring, and he, being extremely attached to her, took it off 
 and gave it to her, at the same time charging her not to show it 
 to any one, but to wear it constantly on her finger. 
 
 One day, when the rich man’s son had gone out, the Brahman 
 came again and addressed her with his usual smooth phrases. 
 She said, “ I have got the ring you spoke about the other day.” 
 “ Have you ? ” cried he. “ Where is it “ Here,” she replied, 
 displaying it. He begged of her earnestly to take it off and let 
 him examine it; and at last, on her nurse, who was present, 
 persuading her to yield to her teacher’s importunity, she took it 
 off and gave it to him. The instant the Brahman received it 
 he changed himself into a crow and flew away to the middle of 
 the ocean, whither no one could follow him, and there dwelt in 
 a pinnacled palace. 
 
 When her husband returned, and heard that the Brahman 
 had taken the ring, he said to her, “ You showed the ring, al- 
 though I particularly charged you not to do so ; and the con- 
 sequence is that it is now in the midst of the sea, where I can 
 
ALADDIN'S WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 479 
 
 never recover it.^’ After speaking these words, he remained 
 brooding over his loss. 
 
 One day a party of the daughters of the Nats^ came to bathe 
 in a tank covered with water-lilies, not far from the place where 
 the rich man’s son dwelt, and having taken off their necklaces 
 they laid them down on the bank ; there the cat found them, 
 and picking them up, ran away and hid them. The daughters 
 of the Nats came to the cat and begged her to return the neck- 
 laces, saying they were only fit for Nats, not for mortals. The 
 cat said, “ If I do, you must make a road for me to travel to the 
 place where the Brahman is living in his palace in the midst of 
 the ocean ; on this condition only will I restore them.” ^ So the 
 daughters of the Nats made the road, and the cat crept stealthily 
 along it until she arrived at the palace, where she found the 
 Brahman asleep, with the ring on his finger. She then slipped 
 off the ring, brought it back, and delivered it to her master, in 
 return for his kindness, saying, “ You paid a great price for me, 
 and have fed and taken care of me ever since.” As for the 
 Brahman, he fell into the sea and was drowned ; while the rich 
 man’s son, being once more in possession of the ring, had every 
 wish he formed gratified. 
 
 After a time a band of five hundred robbers came to kill the 
 rich man’s son and take away his ring. The dog, perceiving that 
 they had come to kill his master, who had purchased him at so 
 high a price and treated him so kindly, flew at the leader of 
 the band and bit him to death, and threw his body down a well. 
 Seeing this, the rest of the robbers fled in dismay. 
 
 Next morning the dog said to his master, I had no sleep last 
 night ; I had hard work to do ” ; and on being asked to explain, 
 he related how the robbers came to slay his master, and how he 
 had killed their chief, and thereby put the rest to flight, adding, 
 “ In return for the many favours you have conferred upon me^ 
 
 1 The inferior celestial regions are inhabited by Nats, beings who 
 occupy the same place in Buddhist belief that fairies, genii {jinn), dfvs, 
 peris, yakshas, etc. hold in European, Arabian, Persian, and Hindu 
 superstitions. 
 
 2 Maidens of this order of semi-celestial beings cannot leave the earth, 
 apparently, without their necklaces, like the daughters of theymTi, when 
 their garments are seized by a human being. 
 
480 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 I have preserved your life and your property.” ‘‘Ah,” replied 
 the rich man’s son, “ all men reviled me for giving a hundred 
 pieces for you who are but an animal, but I owe all my pro- 
 sperity to three animals, each of whom I purchased at that 
 price.” Thus saying, he went into the jungle, brought back the 
 ichneumon, and kept him in the house. 
 
 Now the ichneumon, the dog, and the cat each asserted it had 
 a right to eat before the others. The ichneumon, because he 
 was the first to give the ring to their master. The cat, because, 
 when the gift which the ichneumon had made to their master 
 had fallen into the hands of the Brahman, she, by taking the 
 necklaces of the daughters of the Nats, and by means of the road 
 which they made for her, had recovered the ring, and was thus 
 the cause of their master’s happiness. The dog, because, when 
 five hundred robbers came to strip the rich man’s son of what 
 the others had given him and to take his life, he killed their 
 chief, and cast him into the water, whereupon the rest of the 
 band fled. “ And thus,” said the dog, “ I am the preserver not 
 only of our master’s wealth, but of his life also.” 
 
 Thus disputing, they agreed to submit their cases to the de- 
 cision of the Princess Thoo-dhamma Tsari, the daughter of King 
 Dhammarit, who dwelt at Madarft, in the kingdom of Kam- 
 bautsa, in a pavilion with one pillar in the centre,^ who pos- 
 sessed a perfect acquaintance with the ten laws,^ and was deeply 
 versed in the civil and criminal codes, the fame of whose wisdom 
 had spread to the eight quarters of the world, ^ so that the illus- 
 trious of every nation came to her for judgment. 
 
 1 Pavilions of this form are only allowed to certain females of the Bur- 
 mese royal family. 
 
 2 These are : (1) To make religious offerings ; (2) to observe the Five 
 Precepts ; (3) to be charitable ; (4) to be upright ; (5) to be mild and 
 gentle ; (6) not to give way to anger ; (7) to be strict in the performance 
 of all jreligious ceremonies ; (8) not to oppress ; (9) to exercise self- 
 restraint ; (10) not to be familiar with inferiors. The Five Precepts of 
 Buddha referred to in the second of these ten laws are : (1) not to 
 do murder ; (2) not to steal ; (3) not to commit adultery ; (4) not to drink 
 intoxicating liquors ; (5) not to do anything evil. 
 
 3 The four cardinal points, and North-East, North-West, South-East, 
 and South-West are called the eight faces,” or quarters, of the world. 
 
ALADDIN S, WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 
 481 
 
 The three animals having appeared before the princess, the 
 ichneumon opened the case : A rich man’s son paid a hundred 
 pieces of money for me, fed and tended me well, and gave me 
 my liberty in the jungle. Bearing this in mind, and because 
 he was my benefactor, I gave him a ruby ring, by means of 
 which he obtained a pinnacled palace which sprang up out of 
 the earth ; therefore I am entitled to take precedence of, and 
 eat before, the dog and the cat.” The cat, in turn, related how 
 that when the Brahman had gained possession of the ring which 
 the ichneumon had given their master, she recovered it, and so 
 was the cause of his present good fortune. After her, the dog 
 stated his case, saying, When robbers came to take from our 
 master the ring which the ichneumon had given him, and 
 which, when lost, was restored to him by the cat, I killed their 
 chief, and the remainder of the band fled. Thus I preserved not 
 only my master’s wealth but his life also, and therefore I ought 
 to have precedence over the two others.” 
 
 When they had ended. Princess Thoo-dhamma Tsari thus pro- 
 nounced her decision : The dog, in addition to saving his 
 master’s treasures, also prolonged his life ; therefore he is en- 
 titled to the first place among you ; but verily among animals 
 there are none who understand how to repay a debt of gratitude 
 as you do.” 
 
 Thus ends the story of the dog, the cat, and the ichneumon, 
 from which you may learn, that although man is superior to 
 animals, yet kindness towards them does not go unrequited. 
 
 As almost all Burmese story-books are translations from the 
 Pali,i ^0 ]2iay consider the foregoing as representing the Bud- 
 dhist prototype of Galland’s tale of Aladdin. Here, as in the 
 Mongolian, first-cited Arabian (the Fisherman’s Son), Bohemian, 
 Albanian, and Greek versions, the number of befriended and 
 
 1 The translators have a curious method of doing their work. Instead 
 of composing continuously in their vernacular (says Captain Sparks), a 
 few words of Pali are written, and then their meaning in Burmese ; then 
 a few more Pali words, followed by their interpretation, and so on through 
 the whole book, after the fashion called at school “ construing.” 
 
 VOL. I. 2 H 
 
482 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 grateful animals is three. In the Tamil story there are but 
 two — the snake, through which the hero obtains the talisman, 
 and the cat, which recovers it from the king of Cochin-China. 
 It is interesting to see how the chief incidents are reproduced in 
 the several versions. In Aladdin the princess parts with the 
 “ old ” lamp for a new one ; in the Fisherman’s Son, the ring is 
 exchanged for a basket of jewels ; in the Mongolian story, the 
 hero very foolishly barters his talisman for the merchants’ goods 
 and money. But in the Bohemian, Greek, and Danish versions, 
 the princess, who does not love the hero, her husband, steals the 
 talisman ; this is done by a Jew in the Albanian ; in the Tamil, 
 by an old hag, who, like the Brahman in the Burmese story, 
 artfully obtains possession of it from the princess. In all the 
 versions, with the exception of the Burmese, the magically- con- 
 structed palace is transported to a great distance — to the heart 
 of Africa, an island in the midst of the sea, or to the sea-shore. 
 The underground cave in the story of Maruf has its counter- 
 part in that of Aladdin, while the wicked vazir plays the part 
 of the African magician — with a difference. From whatever 
 source Galland may have derived his tale, it is very evident, 
 from the Bohemian, Albanian, and Greek variants, that it 
 came to Europe in a form closely resembling the Mongolian, 
 Tamil, and Burmese versions. 
 
 YII. 
 
 The Magical Conflict. 
 
 My friend Mr E. J. W. Gibb has kindly furnished me with 
 the following Turkish version of the Magical Conflict (referred 
 to in p. 432), from his forthcoming translation of the romance of 
 ‘ The Forty Yazirs ’ : 
 
 It is related that there was a woman in the city of Cairo, and 
 that woman had a worthless son, who, no matter to what trade 
 she put him, did no good. One day the woman said to the 
 youth, My son, what trade shall I give thee ? ” The youth 
 replied, Take me along with thee, let us go ; and whatever 
 
THE MAGICAL CONFLICT. 
 
 483 
 
 trade I like, to that do tkou give me.” And that woman and 
 her son went to the bazaar, and while they were walking about 
 they saw a geomancer, and the youth observed that geomancer 
 and liked him. Thereupon the woman made him over to him, 
 and the geomancer took the youth and began to show him the 
 principles of geomancy. After some days the master said to the 
 youth, To-morrow I will become a ram ; sell me, but take 
 heed and give not my rope.” The youth said, ‘‘Very good.” 
 The master became a ram, and the youth took and led him to 
 the bazaar and sold him for a thousand aspres ; but he gave not 
 the rope, but took it away with him, and returned. When it 
 was evening his master appeared. After some days the master 
 said, ‘‘Now, youth, to-morrow I will become a horse ; take and 
 sell me, but take heed and give not my headstall.” And he 
 became a horse, and the youth took him and sold him, but gave 
 not the headstall ; and he took the money and went to his own 
 house. When it was evening his master came to his house and 
 saw the youth was not there, and he said, “ He will come in the 
 morning,” and went to bed. On the other hand, the youth went 
 to his mother and said, “ 0 mother, to-morrow I will become a 
 dove ; sell me, but take heed and give not my key.” And he 
 became a dove without peer ; and the. woman put the dove up 
 to auction, and the bidders began to raise their bids at the rate 
 of five piastres. But this dove, which spake the language of the 
 people of that city, acquired such fame as cannot be described. 
 Now, as every one was speaking of the qualities of this dove, his 
 master heard and came ; and as soon as he saw him he knew 
 him to be the youth, and he said, “ Out on thee, misbegotten 
 wretch, thou doest a deed like this and I whole ; now see what 
 I will do to thee.” And he went and bought him from the 
 woman. The woman said, “ I will not give the key.” Quoth 
 the master, “ Take fifty piastres more, and go and buy another 
 key such as thou pleasest.” And he gave her the whole sum ; 
 and the woman was greedy and took it, and drew the key from 
 her girdle and threw it on the ground. As soon as the key fell, 
 it became a pigeon and began to fiy, and the master became a 
 hawk and pursued the pigeon. While these were flying along, 
 the king was seated in the plain taking his pleasure ; and the 
 
484 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 youth looked and saw no escape, and he became a red rose and 
 fell in front of the king. And the king wondered and said, 
 “ What means a rose out of season ? ” and he took it in his hand. 
 Then the master became a minstrel, and he came to the king’s 
 party, with a mandolin in his hand, and sang a stave with a 
 sweet voice. And the king marvelled and said to the minstrel, 
 “ What desirest thou from me 1 ” The minstrel answered, What 
 I desire from thee is the rose that is in thy hand.” The king 
 said, The rose came to me from God ; ask something else.” 
 The minstrel was silent ; then he sang another stave, and again 
 the king said, “ What desirest thou from me 1 ” Again the min- 
 strel asked the rose ; and this time the king stretched out his 
 hand to give it him, whereupon the rose fell to the ground and 
 became millet. Then the minstrel became a cock, and began to 
 pick up the millet. One grain of the millet was hidden under 
 the king’s knee ; and that grain became a man, and seized the 
 cock and tore off its head. And the king and the nobles won- 
 dered, and they asked the youth of these matters, and he ex- 
 plained them to them. 
 
 It will be observed that this version differs materially from all 
 others in some of the details, especially in representing the mas- 
 ter, not the pupil, as turning himself into a ram and a horse for 
 sale. The rope and the bridle, however, as in the Norse and 
 Italian variants, are not to be given into the bargain. For the 
 apple in the Albanian story we have here a red rose. The grain 
 of millet and the cock are metamorphoses which occur in most of 
 the versions. But there is some obscurity in the transformation 
 of the key — of the dove’s cage ? — into a “ pigeon.” What became 
 of the wonderful dove (the youth thus self-changed) after the 
 master had bought it ? The incident of the woman’s casting the 
 key on the ground, with its result, has its parallel in Straparola’s 
 story, in which, by the hero’s counsel, the princess dashes the 
 ruby ring against the wall, when it turns into a pomegranate, 
 which bursts, and the seeds are scattered about ; also in 
 the Albanian version, in which the queen tosses the apple to the 
 pretended dervishes, when it instantly becomes millet. In the 
 Tamil version (p. 438), the hero, having changed himself into 
 
THE MAGICAL CONFLICT. 
 
 485 
 
 a pearl of the princess’s necklace, when the latter is required 
 of her, she scatters the pearls in the courtyard, and they at once 
 become worms — an incident to which that of the rosary in the 
 Mongolian variant bears some analogy. The grain of millet, in 
 the Turkish version, becoming transformed into a man, who 
 kills the cock, seems a reflection of the catastrophe of the Mon- 
 golian story (p. 435), from an earlier form of which it was 
 probably derived. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. 
 
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