'I am from Towelland,' said the King's daughter, and as she spoke she dropped her riding-whip, and while the Prince was stooping to pick it up she said:

'Darkness behind me, but light on my way, That the Prince may not see where I'm going to-day!'

And she was gone again, neither could the Prince see what had become of her. He went far and wide to inquire for that country from whence she had said that she came, but there was no one who could tell him where it lay, so he was forced to have patience once more.

Next Sunday some one had to go to the Prince with a comb. Kari begged for leave to go with it, but the others reminded her of what had happened last time, and scolded her for wanting to let the Prince see her when she was so black and so ugly in her wooden gown, but she would not give up asking until they gave her leave to go up to the Prince with the comb. When she went clattering up the stairs again, out came the Prince and took the comb and flung it at her, and ordered her to be off as fast as she could. After that the Prince went to church, and Kari also begged for leave to go. Again they all asked what she would do there, she who was so black and ugly, and had no clothes that she could be seen in by other people. The Prince or some one else might very easily catch sight of her, they said, and then both she and they would suffer for it; but Kari said that they had something else to do than to look at her, and she never ceased begging until she got leave to go.

And now all happened just as it had happened twice already. She went away to the rock and knocked at it with the stick, and then the man came out and gave her a gown which was very much more magnificent than either of the others. It was almost entirely made of pure gold and diamonds, and she also got a n.o.ble horse with housings embroidered with gold, and a golden bridle.

When the King's daughter came to the church the priest and people were all standing on the hillside waiting for her, and the Prince ran up and wanted to hold the horse, but she jumped off, saying:

'No, thank you, there is no need; my horse is so well broken in that it will stand still when I bid it.'

So they all hastened into the church together and the priest got into the pulpit, but no one listened to what he said, for they were looking far too much at her and wondering whence she came; and the Prince was far more in love than he had been on either of the former occasions, and he was mindful of nothing but of looking at her.

When the sermon was over and the King's daughter was about to leave the church, the Prince had caused a firkin of tar to be emptied out in the porch in order that he might go to help her over it; she, however, did not trouble herself in the least about the tar, but set her foot down in the middle of it and jumped over it, and thus one of her gold shoes was left sticking in it. When she had seated herself on the horse the Prince came running out of the church and asked her whence she came.

'From Combland,' said Kari. But when the Prince wanted to reach her her gold shoe, she said:

'Darkness behind me, but light on my way, That the Prince may not see where I'm going to-day!'

The Prince did not know what had become of her, so he travelled for a long and wearisome time all over the world, asking where Combland was; but when no one could tell him where that country was, he caused it to be made known everywhere that he would marry any woman who could put on the gold shoe. So fair maidens and ugly maidens came thither from all regions, but there was none who had a foot so small that she could put on the gold shoe. After a long, long while came Kari Woodengown's wicked stepmother, with her daughter too, and the shoe fitted her. But she was so ugly and looked so loathsome that the Prince was very unwilling to do what he had promised. Nevertheless all was got ready for the wedding, and she was decked out as a bride, but as they were riding to church a little bird sat upon a tree and sang:

'A slice off her heel And a slice off her toes, Kari Woodengown's shoe Fills with blood as she goes!'

And when they looked to it the bird had spoken the truth, for blood was trickling out of the shoe. So all the waiting-maids, and all the womenkind in the castle had to come and try on the shoe, but there was not one whom it would fit.

'But where is Kari Woodengown, then?' asked the Prince, when all the others had tried on the shoe, for he understood the song of birds and it came to his mind what the bird had said.

'Oh! that creature!' said the others; 'it's not the least use for her to come here, for she has feet like a horse!'

'That may be,' said the Prince, 'but as all the others have tried it, Kari may try it too.'

'Kari!' he called out through the door, and Kari came upstairs, and her wooden gown clattered as if a whole regiment of dragoons were coming up.

'Now, you are to try on the gold shoe and be a Princess,' said the other servants, and they laughed at her and mocked her. Kari took up the shoe, put her foot into it as easily as possible, and then threw off her wooden gown, and there she stood in the golden gown which flashed like rays of sunshine, and on her other foot she had the fellow to the gold shoe. The Prince knew her in a moment, and was so glad that he ran and took her in his arms and kissed her, and when he heard that she was a King's daughter he was gladder still, and then they had the wedding.(14)

(14) From P. C. Asbjornsen.

DRAKESTAIL

DRAKESTAIL was very little, that is why he was called Drakestail; but tiny as he was he had brains, and he knew what he was about, for having begun with nothing he ended by ama.s.sing a hundred crowns. Now the King of the country, who was very extravagant and never kept any money, having heard that Drakestail had some, went one day in his own person to borrow his h.o.a.rd, and, my word, in those days Drakestail was not a little proud of having lent money to the King. But after the first and second year, seeing that they never even dreamed of paying the interest, he became uneasy, so much so that at last he resolved to go and see His Majesty himself, and get repaid. So one fine morning Drakestail, very spruce and fresh, takes the road, singing: 'Quack, quack, quack, when shall I get my money back?'

He had not gone far when he met friend Fox, on his rounds that way.

'Good-morning, neighbour,' says the friend, 'where are you off to so early?'

'I am going to the King for what he owes me.'

'Oh! take me with thee!'

Drakestail said to himself: 'One can't have too many friends.' ... 'I will,' says he, 'but going on all-fours you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get into my throat--go into my gizzard and I will carry you.'

'Happy thought!' says friend Fox.

He takes bag and baggage, and, presto! is gone like a letter into the post.

And Drakestail is off again, all spruce and fresh, still singing: 'Quack, quack, quack, when shall I have my money back?'

He had not gone far when he met his lady-friend Ladder, leaning on her wall.

'Good morning, my duckling,' says the lady friend, 'whither away so bold?'

'I am going to the King for what he owes me.'

'Oh! take me with thee!'

Drakestail said to himself: 'One can't have too many friends.' ... 'I will,' says he, 'but with your wooden legs you will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get into my throat--go into my gizzard and I will carry you.'

'Happy thought!' says my friend Ladder, and nimble, bag and baggage, goes to keep company with friend Fox.

And 'Quack, quack, quack.' Drakestail is off again, singing and spruce as before. A little farther he meets his sweetheart, my friend River, wandering quietly in the sunshine.

'Thou, my cherub,' says she, 'whither so lonesome, with arching tail, on this muddy road?'

'I am going to the King, you know, for what he owes me.'

'Oh! take me with thee!'

Drakestail said to himself: 'We can't be too many friends.'... 'I will,'

says he, 'but you who sleep while you walk will soon be tired. Make yourself quite small, get into my throat--go into my gizzard and I will carry you.'

'Ah! happy thought!' says my friend River.

She takes bag and baggage, and glou, glou, glou, she takes her place between friend Fox and my friend Ladder.

And 'Quack, quack, quack.' Drakestail is off again singing.

A little farther on he meets comrade Wasp's-nest, manoeuvring his wasps.

'Well, good-morning, friend Drakestail,' said comrade Wasp's-nest, 'where are we bound for so spruce and fresh?'