The Ocean said, “I cannot put a spring upon the mountain, but if you will follow my son, River, he will take you to a spring where he was born.”
The giant told the Ocean how the Sun ran away with White Cloud. The Sun heard him and was angry. He placed Sisyphus in the sea saying, “You are far too strong to sit idly here upon the shore. You say you want a great work to do; you shall have it. You shall forever use your strength to push these stones upon the shore, and they shall forever roll back upon you.”
The giant began his work at once, and has worked faithfully every day since that time.
Many people do not yet know what his work is. Do you? Do you know what Sisyphus is making?
THE PALACE OF ALKINOÖS.
N a high plain covered with flowers once lived good King Alkinoös and his gentle people, the Phaiakians.
They were great sailors and went about in silver ships without rudders or sails.
These wonderful ships went slowly or very fast just as the sailors wished.
For many years the Phaiakians were peaceful and happy.
Though they were as brave as they were gentle, they hated war.
Far below the Phaiakians, in a valley, lived a people larger, darker, fiercer than themselves.
These dark people cared for nothing so much as war and conquest.
When they saw the silver ships with the golden prows, they wanted them for their own.
They armed themselves and made ready for a great battle.
To be sure of victory, they borrowed the thunder and lightning from Zeus.
The day came and all was ready for the dark people to advance.
They reached the land of the Phaiakians in the morning and King Alkinoös came forward to meet them.
They soon saw that he alone was more powerful than their entire army.
He was dressed in armor so bright that it dazzled their eyes to look at it. It was covered with millions of golden arrows tipped with diamonds. The king showed the frightened people how he could shoot the arrows in all directions at the same time.
The dark people trembled with fear, but King Alkinoös smiled at them, and then he and his people sailed slowly away toward the West.
On and on they went, until they came to a great silver sea.
Here they stopped and built a palace for their king.
This palace was made of silver and gold and precious stones.
Its towers were rose color and shone with a wonderful light.
Its steps were of pure gold.
On each side of the silver gates were huge dogs which guarded the palace.
There were boys in the halls dressed in white, holding burning torches.
There were girls weaving wonderful curtains and painting pictures upon the walls.
There were mountains and fountains, and rivers and lakes.
There were singing birds and flower gardens, and little children everywhere.
Even to this day, the great king often sits in his palace in the West when his day’s work is done.
He loves to see the people glide about upon the silver sea, in their ships without rudders or sails.
The fierce, dark people still go to war.
They seldom let the gentle king see them fighting.
Yet often after a brave battle, Alkinoös comes out of his palace and smiles brightly upon them. The dark people blush and seem to smile at the king.
You must find out how much good these dark people do and how the King of the Phaiakians helps them in their work, if you wish to understand their friendship.
PHAETHON.
HAETHON was the son of Helios, who drove the chariot of the sun. He lived with his mother, the gentle Clymene, in a beautiful valley in the east.
One day when Phaethon was telling his companions about his father, the sky king, they laughed and said, “How do you know that Helios is your father? You have never seen him. If, as you say, he cannot safely come nearer to the earth, why do you not sometimes go to his land.”
Phaethon answered, “My father’s throne is far away from this valley. My mother has promised that when I am stronger, I shall go to my father’s palace. I often watch his golden chariot roll by in its path and think perhaps some day I shall drive the glorious horses of the sun.
“I shall go now to my mother, and ask her how much longer I must wait.”
When Phaethon told his mother what his companions had said she answered, “Go, my child, ask Great Helios if you are his son. If you are worthy to be the son of Helios you will be given strength and courage for the journey.”
Phaethon gladly and bravely climbed the unused path which led to the palace of the sun.
At last he came in sight of the throne. He had never seen anything so beautiful. On one side were standing the days, months and the old years. On the other side were the seasons; Spring, covered with flowers; Summer, with her baskets of fruit and grain; Autumn, in a many-colored dress; and Young Winter, with a crown of icicles.
As Phaethon came nearer to the throne, the light was greater than his eyes could bear. Its wonderful colors dazzled him.
Helios saw the brave youth and knew that it was Phaethon, his son. He took his glittering crown from his head and went forward to meet him.
Phaethon cried, “Great Helios, if you are my father give me and others proof that it is so.”
Helios took him in his arms and kissed him. “You are indeed my son,” he said. “I will put an end to your doubts. Ask any gift you will, and it shall be yours.”
Phaethon had always had one wish in his heart and said, “O, my father, let me drive the wonderful golden chariot of the sun for just one day.”
Helios shook his head sadly and said, “That is the one thing which you must not ask to do.
“You are my son, and I love you. For your own sake, I cannot let you do this. You have neither the strength nor the wisdom for the great work.
“The first part of the way is very steep and rugged. In the middle part, even I dare not look below at the far stretching earth, and the last part is full of terrible dangers.”
Phaethon would not listen, but threw his arms around his father’s neck and begged to go.
Helios said at last, “If you persist, foolish boy, you shall have your wish, for I cannot break my promise. I beg of you choose more wisely. Ask the most precious thing on earth or in the sky, and you shall have it.”
Already Dawn had drawn back the purple curtains of the morning and the Hours were harnessing the horses to the chariot.
The stars and moon were retiring for the day.
The chariot glittered with jewels which sent the light in all directions. Phaethon looked upon it with delight and longed impatiently for the great joy of driving it.
Helios said, “O, my dear son, go not too high or you will scorch the dwelling of heaven, nor too low, lest you set the world on fire.
“Keep the middle path; that is best, and do not use the whip; rather, hold the horses in.”
Phaethon was too happy to hear what his father was saying.
He leapt into the golden chariot and stood erect as the fiery horses sprang forth from the eastern gates of Day.
They soon missed the strong steady hand of their master.
Up, up they went, far into the sky, above the stars, and then plunged downward toward the earth.
The clouds smoked, the mountain tops caught fire, many rivers dried up and whole countries became deserts.
Great cities were burning, and even Poseidon cried out in terror from the sea.
Then the people on earth learned with what great wisdom the path of the sun was planned.
Helios saw that the whole world would soon be on fire, and cried to father Zeus to save the earth from the flames.
Zeus searched all the heavens for clouds and hurled his thunderbolts from the sky.
Phaethon fell from the chariot, down, down into a clear river.
The naiads cooled his burning brow, and gently sang him to sleep.
His sisters came to the banks of the river and wept.
That they might be always near Phaethon, Zeus, in pity changed them into poplar trees, and their tears became clear amber as they fell into the water.
At last the tired horses became quiet, and the great car rolled slowly back into its old path.
But the deserts and barren mountain tops still tell the story of the day Phaethon tried to drive the chariot of the sun.
THE GRATEFUL FOXES.
T was springtime in Japan, and the blossoms hung thick on the cherry trees.
Butterflies and dragon flies fluttered over the golden colza flowers in the fields.
The rice birds chirped merrily. Everything seemed to say, “How good it is to live in days like these.”
A beautiful princess, O Haru San, sat on the bank of a stream gaily pulling the lilies.
All the maidens of her court were with her.
Along the river bank came a troop of noisy, laughing boys, carrying a young cub fox. They were trying to decide who should have its skin and who its liver.
At a safe distance from them, in a bamboo thicket, father fox and mother fox sat looking sadly after their little cub.
The princess’ heart was filled with pity, and she said:
“Boys, pray loose the little fox. See his parents weeping in the rocks.”
The boys shook their heads.
“We shall sell the fox’s skin,” they said. “The liver, too, if well powdered, will be used to cure fevers in the fall.”
“Listen,” cried O Haru San, “It is springtime, and everything rejoices. How can you kill such a small soft beast?
“See, here is twice your price; take it all,” and she drew copper money and silver money from her girdle.
The boys placed the little frightened animal in her lap and ran away, pleased to be so rich.
The cub felt the touch of her soft hand, and trembled no longer. She loosened carefully the knot and noose and string.
She stroked the red fur smooth again, and bound up the little bleeding leg. She offered it rice and fish to eat, but the black eyes plainly said, “This is very nice, but I hear my parents grieving near yonder beanstraw stack. I long to go and comfort them.”
She set the little fox gently on the ground, and, forgetting its wounded leg, it leaped through the bushes at one happy bound.
The two old foxes gravely looked it over neck and breast.
They licked it from its bushy tail to its smooth, brown crown. Then, sitting up on their haunches, they gave two sharp barks of gratitude.
That was their way of saying, “We send you thanks, sweet maid.”
As she walked home by the river side, all the world seemed more beautiful to O Haru San.
The summer time came and the blossoms upon the cherry trees became rich, ripe fruit. But there was no joy in the emperor’s house.
His daughter, the gentle O Haru San, was ill. She grew paler and weaker each day. Physicians came from far and near, and shook their wise heads gravely.
When the emperor’s magician saw her, he said, “No one can heal such sickness. A charm falls upon her every night which steals away her strength. He alone can break the spell, who, with sleepless eyes, can watch beside her bedside until sunrise.”
Gray haired nurses sat by her until morning, but a deep sleep fell upon them at midnight.
Next fourscore maidens of the court, who loved her well, kept bright lights burning all the night, yet they, too, fell asleep.
Five counselors of state watched with her father at the bedside. Though they propped their eyes open with their fingers, yet in the middle of the night slumber overcame them.
All believed that the gentle maid must die.
The emperor was in despair, but Ito, a brave soldier, said, “I shall not sleep; let me one night guard the sweet O Haru San.”
Her father led him to the chamber. Just at midnight Ito felt his eyes grow heavy.
He rose and held his sword above his head. “Rather will I die than sleep,” he said.
Then came a great struggle. Often his head nodded, but by his love and strength Ito conquered sleep.
Suddenly he heard a voice which said, “Grate foxes’ livers in the princess’ rice broth and all her ills will disappear.”
The next morning the hunters searched far and near for foxes. They knew that to the emperor a fox was worth its weight in gold. All day and night they were in the woods without food or rest.
At last they came sadly back to their homes. They brought no fox.
“All the foxes know,” they said, “and have hidden themselves away.”
The emperor in grief and anger cried, “Must my child perish? Shall a princess die for the lack of one poor fox?
“She was never willing that one should be slain and this is her reward.”
Ito said, “I will get the fox.” He started out with knife and net to seek it.
At the entrance of the town he met a woman dressed in strange garments. Very small and stooped she seemed to Ito. She carried a jar in her arms. She bowed low before Ito, and said, “What you seek is in the jar. I have brought it from afar.”
“Here is gold,” said Ito. “What is the price?”
The woman pulled the blue hood farther over her face and said, “Another time will do, I can wait. Hasten now to the princess.”
Gladly Ito obeyed.
They made the broth in a bowl of beaten gold and fed it to O Haru San.
Immediately she was well and all was joy in the emperor’s house.
The emperor said, “Ito, is she, who brought this blessing, paid?”
Ito answered, “Yonder she waits at the entrance of the town.”
The emperor himself in his great joy went with Ito to meet her.
But they found only a dog-fox dead.
Around his neck they read this message, “This is my husband here.
“For his child he gives his liver to the princess, dear. I, his very lowly wife, have brought it.”
PERSEPHONE.
EMETER had the care of all the plants, fruits and grains in the world.
She taught the people how to plow the fields and plant the seeds.
She helped them gather in their harvests.
They loved the kind earth-mother and gladly obeyed her.
They also loved her daughter, the beautiful Persephone.
Persephone wandered all day in the meadows among the flowers.
Wherever she went the birds, singing merrily, flocked after her.
The people said, “Where Persephone is, there is the warm sunshine.
“Flowers bloom when she smiles.
“Listen to her voice; it is like a bird’s song.”
Demeter wished always to have her child near her.
One day Persephone went alone into a meadow near the sea. She had made a wreath for her hair, and gathered all the flowers that her apron could hold.
Far away across the meadow she saw a white flower gleaming. She ran to it and found that it was a narcissus, but far more beautiful than any she had ever seen.
On a single stem were a hundred blossoms. She tried to pick it, but the stem would not break. With all her strength she grasped it, and slowly it came up by the roots.
It left a great opening in the earth which grew larger and larger.
Persephone heard a rumbling like thunder under her feet. Then she saw four black horses coming toward her from the opening.
Behind them was a chariot made of gold and precious stones.
In it sat a dark, stern man. It was Hades.
He had come up from his land of darkness, and was shading his eyes with his hands.
He saw Persephone, beautiful with flowers, and instantly caught her in his arms and placed her in the chariot beside him.
The flowers fell from her apron. “Oh! my pretty flowers,” she cried, “I have lost them all.”
Then she saw the stern face of Hades.
Frightened, she stretched out her hands to kind Apollo who was driving his chariot overhead. She called to her mother for help.
Hades drove straight toward his dark underground home.
The horses seemed to fly.
As they left the light, Hades tried to comfort Persephone.
He told her of the wonders of his kingdom. He had gold and silver and all kinds of precious stones.
Persephone saw gems glittering on every side as they went along, but she did not care for them.
Hades told her how lonely he was, and that he wished her to be his queen and share all his riches.
Persephone did not want to be a queen. She longed only for her mother and the bright sunshine.
Soon they came to the land of Hades.
It seemed very dark and dismal to Persephone, and very cold, too.
A feast was ready for her, but she would not eat.
She knew that any one who ate in Hades’ home could never return to earth again.
She was very unhappy, though Hades tried in many ways to please her.
Everything on the earth was unhappy, too.
One by one the flowers hung their heads and said, “We cannot bloom, for Persephone has gone.” The trees dropped their leaves and moaned, “Persephone has gone, gone.”
The birds flew away and said, “We cannot sing for Persephone has gone.”
Demeter was more miserable than any one else. She had heard Persephone call her, and had gone straight home.
She searched all the earth for her child. She asked every one she met these questions, “Have you seen Persephone? Where is Persephone?”
The only answer she ever received was, “Gone, gone, Persephone is gone!”
Demeter became a wrinkled old woman. No one would have known that she was the kind mother who had always smiled on the people.
Nothing grew on the earth and all was dreary and barren.
Demeter said that she would do nothing until Persephone returned to her.
It was useless for the people to plow the soil.
It was useless to plant the seeds. Nothing could grow without the help of Demeter.
All the people were idle and sad.
When Demeter found no one on earth who could tell her about Persephone, she looked up toward the sky. There she saw Apollo in his bright chariot. He was not driving as high in the sky as he was wont to do.
Often he gathered dark mists about him so that none saw him for many days.
Demeter knew that he must know about Persephone, for he could see all things on earth and in the sky.
Apollo told Demeter that Hades had carried Persephone away and that she was with him in his underground home.
Demeter hastened to the great father Zeus, who could do all things.
She asked him to send to Hades for her daughter. Zeus called Hermes. He bade him go as swiftly as the wind to the home of Hades. Hermes whispered to everything on the way that he was going for Persephone so that all might be ready to welcome her back.
He soon arrived in the kingdom and gave Hades the message from Zeus. He told about the barren earth and of how Demeter was mourning for her child. He said she would not let anything grow until Persephone came back. The people must starve if she did not soon return.
Then Persephone wept bitterly, for that very day she had eaten a pomegranate and swallowed six of its seeds.
Hades pitied her and said that she need only stay with him one month for each seed she had eaten.
Joy gave her wings, and as swiftly as Hermes himself, Persephone flew up into the sunshine.
Apollo saw her and rose higher and higher into the sky. A gentle breeze came rustling from the southeast, and whispered something to everything he met.
Suddenly the flowers sprang up; the birds flocked together and sang; the trees put on bright green leaves.
Everything, great and small, began to say in his own language, “Be happy for Persephone has come! Persephone has come!”
Demeter saw these changes and was puzzled. “Can the earth be ungrateful? Does she so soon forget Persephone?” she cried.
It was not long however before her own face became beautiful and happy, for she held again her beloved child in her arms.
When Demeter found that Persephone could stay with her only half the year, she brought out the choicest treasures from her storehouse and while Persephone stayed, the world was filled with beauty and joy.
When she had gone, Demeter covered the rivers and lakes, and spread a soft white blanket over the sleeping earth.
Then she, too, fell asleep and dreamed such pleasant dreams that she did not awake until she felt Persephone’s warm kiss on her forehead.
THE SWAN MAIDENS.
LONG, long time ago there was born in the east a wonderful king.
He was called “The King of the Golden Sword.”
Every day he came in his golden chariot scattering heat, light and happiness among his people.
Every day he passed from his palace in the east far over to his throne in the west.
He never missed a day for he wanted to see that everyone had a full share of his gifts.
Throughout the kingdom the birds sang and the flowers bloomed. The sky was full of beautiful pictures which were constantly changing.
The king had many daughters who were called swan maidens.
They were as graceful as swans and usually wore white featherlike dresses.
The swan maidens loved their good father and each one longed to help him in his work.
Sometimes the king saw that the grass was brown or the buds were not coming out.
Then he called the swan maidens to him and said, “My children, this must not be. There is nothing more beautiful in the kingdom than the green grass and the trees. They need your care.”
Gladly each maiden changed her dress and set out at once on her journey. Often they could not all work upon the grass and the buds.
Some of them ran off to play with the stones in the brook. The best ones went down to feed the roots and worms, and worked out of sight.
When their tasks were finished they always hurried back to their father, the king.
They went so noiselessly and swiftly that for a long time their way of travelling was a mystery.
In the fall, the king called the bravest swan maidens to him. He told them they must go away for a long time.
The swan maidens wrapped themselves in white, feathery blankets and came softly down to the shivering flowers.
Gently they placed a white spread on the earth and left no small seed uncovered.
At last, when the king smiled and their work was done, they stole away so softly and happily that no one missed them.
THE POPLAR TREE.
NE night, just at sunset, an old man found the pot of gold which lies under the end of the rainbow.
His home was far beyond the dark forest, through which he was passing.
The pot of gold was heavy, and he soon began to look for a safe place in which to hide it until morning.
A poplar tree stood near the path stretching its branches straight out from the trunk.
That was the way the poplar trees grew in those days.
“Ah,” said the man, “This tree is the very place in which to conceal my treasure.
“The trees are all asleep, I see, and these leaves are large and thick.”
He carefully placed the pot of gold in the tree, and hurried home to tell of his good fortune.
Very early the next morning, Iris, the rainbow messenger, missed the precious pot of gold.
She hastened to Zeus and told him of the loss.
Zeus immediately sent Hermes in search of it.
Hermes soon came to the forest where it was hidden.
He awakened the trees, and asked them if they had seen the pot of gold.
They shook their heads sleepily, and murmured something which Hermes could not understand.
Then Zeus himself spoke to them. “Hold your arms high above your heads,” he said, “that I may see that all are awake.”
Up went the arms, but alas, down to the ground came the pot of gold.
The poplar tree was more surprised than any one else.
He was a very honest tree and for a moment hung his head in grief and shame. Then again he stretched his arms high above his head, and said, “Forgive me, great father; hereafter I shall stand in this way that you may know that I hide nothing from the sun, my king.”
At first the poplar tree was much laughed at.
He was often told that he looked like a great umbrella which a storm had turned inside out.
But as years went by every small poplar was taught to grow as fearless, straight and open hearted as himself, and the whole poplar family became respected and loved for its uprightness and strength.
THE DONKEY AND THE SALT.
NE time a merchant went to the seashore for a load of salt.
There were many hills and streams to cross on the journey.
As the path was narrow and rocky, the man made his donkey carry the salt in large bags upon his back. It was a warm day, and the donkey did not like his heavy load.
He hung down his head and went as slowly as he could.
After a while they came to a stream which had only a foot bridge over it.
The donkey went through the water, splash! splash! splash! In the middle of the stream was a large stone which he did not see.
He stumbled and fell, and the water ran over the bags of salt.
Soon the donkey was glad that he had fallen, for he found his load much lighter.
They came to another stream, but the donkey did not stumble this time. He lay down in the middle of the brook.
He was a wise donkey.
This time he lost so much salt that his master was angry, for he was obliged to go back to the seashore for another load.
As they were walking along, the merchant laughed to himself.
He thought he knew a way to cure the donkey of this trick.
When they came to the seashore, he filled the bags with sponges, and started for home.
The donkey thought, “What a light load I have,” and trotted gaily along over the rough road.
Again they came to the brook. “Ah!” thought the donkey, “I will make my load still lighter.”
He lay down in the middle of the brook.
This time he found his load so heavy that he could scarcely rise.
His master kindly helped him, but the donkey was not happy.
The water ran down his sides and made him more miserable.
“Oh,” thought he, “I will never lie down in the water again.”
Once more his master led him back to the seashore.
He filled the bags with salt.
The donkey was wiser now and carried the salt safely home.
THE SECRET OF FIRE.
A TREE STORY.
NE summer night a great army of pine trees settled down in a quiet valley to rest. They were a tall, dark, grave-looking company.
They held their heads high in the air, for they were the only trees in the world who knew the wonderful secret of fire.
High above this valley, on the hillside, lived a little company of oaks.
They were young, brave, and strong-hearted.
When they saw the great band of pines marching into the valley, the tallest one said:
“Let us make them divide the gift of fire with us.”
“No,” said the oldest, wisest oak, “we must not risk, foolishly, the lives of our acorns. We could do nothing against so many.”
All the acorns had been listening to what the tree said. Each one longed to help in finding out the great secret.
One of them became so excited that he fell from the limb, down upon the hard ground. He did not stop at the foot of the tree, but rolled over and over, far down into the valley.
Here a brook picked him up and hurried him away; but as he stopped to rest by a stone, he heard his good friend, the wind, talking to a pine tree.
“What is the secret of fire which the pine trees know?” asked the wind. “Don’t you think it is selfish to keep it all to yourselves?”
The pine tree loved the wind and answered:
“Great wind, it is, indeed, a wonderful secret; you must never tell it.” Then she whispered it to the wind.
The little acorn went on and on down the stream.
He came to an old log, which was the home of a large family of squirrels. The mother squirrel was very sad. The last flood had brought her and her children far away from her old forest home. Her family had all been saved, but food was scarce and winter was near.
The acorn felt very sorry for her and said:
“I am too small to do you much good alone. If you will carry me back to my home, I will show you a forest with plenty of nuts. You can take your family there in the fall.”
This the squirrel was very glad to do.
As they went along the acorn called to all the elms, maples, willows and hickories to meet that night on the hilltop.
“Come to the hill across from the great blue mountains,” he said. “There you will learn the secret of fire.”
By evening they were all there, in great companies, ready for war on the pines.
When the squirrel came to the forest and saw all the nuts she was much pleased.
She offered to carry the acorn to the very top of the tallest tree. The trees were all glad of this, for every one wanted to hear what he said.
When the acorn began to speak, even the wind stopped whispering and listened.
“Friends,” he said, “there must be no battle. The pine trees have only the same gift of fire that you have. To every tree that stretches out its arms the glorious sun gives this gift. But it was in this way that the pine trees learned the secret of getting the fire from the wood: They saw an old Indian chief with two curious pieces of wood. One was round and smooth, the other was sharp-pointed. With all his strength he was rubbing them together. Soon he had worn a groove in the round stick. He rubbed faster and faster, and there in the groove was a tiny spark of fire. Then the Indian blew his breath upon the spark and a little yellow flame leaped up. All the pine trees saw it. ‘See, it is fire!’ they said.”
When the great company of trees had heard the acorn’s story they shook their heads in doubt. Then the acorn said:
“This is the true secret of fire. If you do not believe it why do you not try it for yourselves.”
They took this advice and all the trees learned that what he had said was true.
They were so happy that they spent the whole night in singing and dancing.
In the morning, when they saw the great blue mountains and the beautiful valley, many of them settled down upon the hillside for life.
The pines looked up and saw hundreds of trees with their shining arms. They were so frightened that they climbed high up on the mountain side. There they stayed a long, long time.
They grew sad and lonely, and often sighed and wished for their old home and comforts. But they were brave and strong-hearted, and helped each other.
At last, some of them came down into the valley again. Through suffering they had grown strong and unselfish. They gave their best trees to the people and their fairest to the children at Christmas time.
Indeed, there is not a tree in the world to-day more loved than the pine tree, who first had the secret of fire.
A FAIRY STORY.
OME fairies once lived in a dark glen in a pine forest.
They were real fairies, many of them not higher than a pin.
Their greatest treasure was a magic cap which had been in the fairy family for many generations.
The most wonderful thing about the cap was that it fitted exactly any one who wore it.
When one fairy put it on, he and all the others became invisible.
A stupid race of giants lived among the mountains near them. They wanted the fairy cap more than anything else in the world.
One warm day when the elves were away from home, a giant came into the glen. He was seeking just such a cool place for his afternoon nap.
He was so large and the glen so small that when he lay down he almost filled the valley.
The music of a fairy brook soon lulled him to sleep.
Perhaps you have heard how a giant snores, and how his breath comes in great puffs.
The giant was snoring and puffing when the fairies came towards home.
They heard the strange sound and thought a great storm was brewing.
“There has never been such a wind in the glen,” said the fairy queen.
“We will not go down into it. We must seek shelter for to-night on this hillside.”
Just then they came to the giant’s ear.
“Here is a fine cavern,” the queen said, and she stopped and waved her wand.
A fairy hastened forward to carry the cap to a safe place in the cave, for that was always their first care.
Just then the giant awoke.
He raised his great head.
Oh, how miserable the fairies were!
They wept and moaned until even the dull ear of the giant heard them.
It was a sound like the tolling of tiny silver bells.
He listened and understood what the wee voice of the prisoner in his ear was saying.
He was the wisest and most kind-hearted of all the giants.
He helped the little creature gently out into his hand, and looked at him in wonder.
He had never before seen a fairy.
In vain the brave little fellow tried to conceal the precious cap.
The giant saw the wonderful star and knew at once that he had the treasure cap of the elves.
He set the fairy carefully upon the ground, and shouted for joy as he found that the cap exactly fitted his own great head.
The poor fairies could no longer see him, but they heard a sound like thunder, as he hurried over the stones towards his home.
They were now afraid to move about while the sun shone.
They crept under leaves and into shells and cried bitterly.
By sundown every plant in the glen was wet with their tears.
The sharp eyes of the eagle on the mountain top saw them and a great pity filled his heart.
“I must help the fairies,” he said, “otherwise I should not be worthy to be called the ‘king of birds’.”
He went directly to the home of the giants and demanded the cap, but they refused to give it up.