Sealing this, he gave it to the girl, and she started on her journey. On the way she slept a night in a little inn. Now it fell out that a thief broke into the inn that night and entered the maiden's room, where he found the letter, and opening it he read it. Then turning his dark lanthorn on the face of the sleeping girl, he thought, 'How sad that this beautiful damsel should be the bearer of her own sentence of death! Surely she deserves a better fate.' Then, taking a pen, he wrote on paper a note, as though from the knight, telling the brother to marry the girl to his son. Having done this, he sealed the letter and placed it in the girl's purse, whence he had abstracted the real letter. She, waking the next morning, and knowing nothing of what had taken place during the night, hastened to Scarborough, where she was well received by the knight's brother. He read the letter, and gave immediate orders for the celebration of her nuptials with the knight's son, who was then staying at his castle.

Some days after, the knight arrived at his brother's mansion, and was much astonished and perplexed to see the course which affairs had taken, and to find that all his attempts to frustrate the purposes of fate had been in vain. However, he was not a bit more disposed than before to take matters quietly, so dragging the poor girl to the shore by her hair, he drew his dagger to stab her. She fell on her knees and implored him to spare her life, on which he so far relented that he plucked a golden ring from his finger and cast it as far as he could into the tumbling waves, saying to her, 'Swear to me that you will not come within my sight till that ring is on your finger, and I will spare your life." She took the requisite oath and fled the place.

Far and wide did she wander, begging from door to door, till at last she found a situation as cook in a nobleman's house. One day, when guests were arriving, she looked from the window and saw the knight, her cruel father-in-law, and his son, her husband. Trembling, she hid herself in the kitchen, and her tears were mingled with the food she dressed. Just before dinner a fisherman came to the door with a magnificent fish for sale. She took it in and began to clean it. Scarcely had she opened it when she saw something glittering in its stomach. She examined the shining substance—and, lo! it was the knight's ring! Her heart was now full of joy, and her tears were lost in smiles. She cooked the dinner so well that the knight, her father-in-law, asked his host who was his cook.

A strange girl,' replied he, 'who came begging to my door, and whom I received into my house from charity. Ho! some of you servants, bid her come up into the dining-hall.'

The girl, receiving this command, washed her face, braided her hair, and put on her best array; then, with the ring on her finger, she entered the hall where all were feasting.

The revellers turned to look at her, for she seemed as fair as the moon, as lovely as a rose. With an exclamation of rage and dismay, the knight rose to his feet. He recognised her at once, and, drawing his sword, rushed forward to cut her down; but she held up her hand with a smile, and there he saw the ring he had cast into the sea. Now, at length he acknowledged that he was powerless to resist fate, and suffered her to remain in peace with his son, who loved her dearly, and she became famous through the land for her beauty, her courtesy, and her goodness.

This story is made up of two story-radicals:
A. The first as far as to the marriage;

B. The second from the marriage to the end.

The first part of the story closely resembles 'The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs,' in Grimm's Kinder-Mährchen, No. 29; to which are also related a Swiss story of Vogel Greet (K. M. No. 165), a Swedish tale (Afzelius 2, 161-167), a Norwegian (Asbjörnsen, No. 5), a Wendish tale (Haupt u. Schmaler, No. 17), a Hungarian (Mailan, No. 8), and a Mongolian tale in Gesser Khan, p. 142. In the German story a king takes the place of the knight, and the babe is a boy born with a caul, and therefore fated to marry his daughter. He takes the boy and casts him into the water, and it is saved by a miller. The incident of the change of letters by the thief is the same. After this the German tale branches off in another direction altogether. A modern Greek household tale (Von Hahn, No. 20) is tc this effect: It is prophesied that a babe will cause the death of a merchant; the merchant takes the child, as in the Yorkshire and German story, and casts it into the river, when it is saved by a shepherd. Then follows the recognition of the boy, when grown up, by the merchant, and the incident of the letter; after which the story goes off on another track. The same story exists in the 'Gesta Romanorum.’* It is impossible not to recognise in the myth of Romulus and Remus an Italic form of the same widespread household tale localised.

The second part of the same Yorkshire story is founded on a different root, and one which reappears in numerous tales. For instance, in 'Herodotus,' it is told of Polycrates;

*Ed. Swan, vol. i. Tale 20.

in the old Provençal romance of 'Magelone' it more closely resembles the form in the Yorkshire tale. If I remember aright, it occurs in one of the Arabian Nights' Entertainments;' and if so, it was a relic of Persian romance, and would, in all probability, be found in India as well. I am not sure that it has not a mythical signification, and that the ring apparently lost in the sea, and recovered from it again, does not portray the sun cast, as it were, by the power of darkness into the deep, and recovered again by the virgin Aurora or the dawn. The instances of the reappearance of this root in household tales are too numerous to be specified. I may mention that it occurs in the familiar French tale of The Fair One with Golden Locks,' and that we find it in all the kindred tales of the Aryan family.

6

7. THE ASS, THE TABLE, AND THE STICK.

(Yorkshire, West Riding.)

A lad was once so unhappy at home through his father's illtreatment, that he made up his mind to run away and seek his fortune in the wide world.

He ran, and he ran, till he could run no longer, and then he ran right up against a little old woman who was gathering sticks. He was too much out of breath to beg pardon, but the woman was good-natured, and she said he seemed to be a likely lad, so she would take him to be her servant, and would pay him well. He agreed, for he was very hungry, and she brought him to her house in the wood, where he served her for a year and a day. When the twelvemonth had passed, she called him to her, and said she had good wages for him. So she presented him with an ass out of the stable, and he had but to pull Neddy's ears to make him begin at once to ee-aw! And when he brayed there dropped from his mouth silver sixpences, halfcrowns, and golden guineas.

The lad was well pleased with the wage he had received, and away he rode till he reached an inn. There he ordered the best of everything, and when the innkeeper refused to provide them without some assurance of being paid, the boy hied him to the stable, pulled the ass's ears, and obtained his pocket full of money. The host had watched the proceedings through a crack in the door, and when night came on he substituted an ass of his own for the precious Neddy of the poor youth, who, unconscious of any change having been made, rode away next morning to his father's house.

Now I must tell you that near the paternal cottage dwelt a poor widow with an only daughter. The lad and the maiden were fast friends and trueloves; but when Jack asked his father's leave to marry the girl, 'Never, till you have the money to keep her,' was the reply. 'I have that, father,' said the lad, and going to the ass he pulled its long ears. Well, he pulled and he pulled, till one of them came off in his hands; but Neddy, though he brayed lustily, let fall no halfcrowns or guineas. The father picked up a hayfork and beat his son out of the house. I promise you he ran. Ah! he ran and ran till he came bang against the door; and burst it open, and there he was in a joiner's shop. 'You're a likely lad,' said the joiner; 'serve me for a twelvemonth, and I will pay you well.' So he agreed and served the carpenter for a year and a day. 'Now,' said the master, 'I will give you your wage; and he presented him with a table, telling him he had but to say, 'Table, be covered,' and at once it would be spread

with an abundant feast.

Jack hitched the table on his back, and away he went with it till he came to the inn. 'Well, host,' shouted he, ' my dinner to-day, and that of the best."

'Very sorry, but there is nothing in the house but ham and eggs.

Ham and eggs for me!' exclaimed Jack. 'I can do better than that.-Come, my table, be covered!'

At once the table was spread with turkey and sausages, roast mutton, potatoes, and greens. The publican opened his eyes, but said nothing.

That night he fetched down from his attic a table very similar to that of Jack, and exchanged the two. Jack, none the wiser, next morning hitched the worthless table on his back and carried it home. 'Now, father, may I marry my lass ?' he asked.

'Not unless you can keep her,' replied the father.

'Look here!' exclaimed Jack. Father, I have a table which does all my bidding.'

'Let me see it,' said the old man.

The lad set it in the middle of the room, and bade it be covered; but all in vain, the table remained bare. In a rage, the father caught the warming-pan down from the wall and warmed his son's back pretty effectually with it, so that the boy fled howling from the house, and ran and ran till he came to a river and tumbled in. A man picked him out and bade him assist him in making a bridge over the river; and how do you think he was effecting this? Why, by casting a tree across; so Jack climbed up to the top of the tree and threw his weight on it, so that when the man had rooted the tree up, Jack and the tree-head dropped on the farther bank.

'Thank you,' said the man, 'and now for what you have done I will pay you;' so saying, he tore a branch from the tree, and fettled

'take

it up into a club with his knife. 'There,' exclaimed he; this stick, and when you say to it, “Up stick and fell him," it will knock anyone down who angers you.'

The lad was overjoyed to get this stick-so away he went with it to the inn, and as soon as the publican appeared, 'Up stick and fell him!' was his cry. At the word the cudgel flew from his hand and battered the old publican on the back, rapped his head, bruised his arms, tickled his ribs, till he fell groaning on the floor; still the stick belaboured the prostrate man, nor would Jack call it off till he had recovered the stolen ass and table. Then he galloped home on the ass, with the table on his shoulders, and the stick in his hand. When he arrived there his father was dead, so he brought his ass into the stable, and pulled its ears till he had filled the manger with money.

It was soon known through the town that Jack had returned rolling in wealth, and accordingly all the girls in the place set their caps at him. 'Now,' said Jack, 'I shall marry the richest lass in the place; so to-morrow do you all come in front of my house with your money in your aprons.'

Next morning the street was full of girls with aprons held out, and gold and silver in them; but Jack's own sweetheart was among them, and she had neither gold nor silver, naught but two copper pennies, that was all she had.

'Stand aside, lass,' said Jack to her, speaking roughly. 'Thou hast no silver nor gold-stand off from the rest.' She obeyed, and the tears ran down her cheeks, and filled her apron with diamonds.

'Up stick and fell them,' exclaimed Jack; whereupon the cudgel leaped up, and running along the line of expectant damsels, knocked them all on the heads and left them senseless on the pavement. Jack took all their money and poured it into his truelove's lap. 'Now, lass,' he exclaimed, 'thou art the richest, and I shall marry thee.'

Another version obtained in the East Riding:

There was once a poor woodcutter who had three sons. They lived in a great forest and worked hard all day making fagots. The eldest of the three one day declared he was tired of his work, and should go and seek his fortune. He flung down his axe and started at once; he walked on and on till he was tired, and then sat down on a hillside to rest. Just as he was falling asleep, a little man, not so high as his knee, stood before him, and asked where he was going. To seek my fortune, said the lad. 'Well', said the little man, go on over yon hills, and you will come to a white house. Say Harry-cap has sent you, and you will be admitted.' The boy got up and travelled on till he came to the white house. He said what the little man had bade him, and was at once told to enter. He slept well, and on the morrow, when about to come away, the people of the house brought him as a present a purse, which had,