Once upon a time a Hungarian was crossing a brook. He had on a woollen coat with short sleeves. As long as were the sleeves, so long will be this story. If the sleeves had been longer, the story would have been longer too.

“That is a very short story,” said the little boy.

“So I promised you,” said the other grandmother. “I have kept my part of the bargain, have I not? Now do you keep yours, and after dinner I will tell you a longer one. Only remember, no more tears!”

The little boy kept his part of the bargain, and after dinner the other grandmother told him about

Once upon a time there was an Emperor who had three sons. Before his palace stood a golden apple-tree which bloomed and bore ripe fruit in one and the self-same night; but it was always plundered by some one who left not the slightest trace behind.

At last the father said to his sons, “Who can have made away with the fruit of our apple-tree?”

Upon this the eldest son said, “I will watch the tree to-night, and will teach the rogue to know better!”

So when twilight began to fall he went and laid himself down beneath the apple-tree to guard it. But he fell asleep just as the apples began to ripen, and when at dawn he awoke, the tree had been already stripped. He therefore went to his father and truthfully told him the whole story.

Then the second son pledged himself to guard the tree; but it happened with him precisely as with the other. He fell asleep under the apple-tree, and when the dawning light awoke him not an apple remained upon the tree.

It was now the turn of the youngest son to watch the tree. He made himself ready, went out to the tree, prepared his bed immediately under it, and laid himself down to sleep. Just at midnight he suddenly awoke. He cast a glance upward into the tree, the fruit of which was just beginning to ripen. The whole castle glittered with its golden sheen.

At that very moment nine golden Peahens came flying by; eight of them settled upon the apple-tree, but the ninth flew down upon the young man’s bed and transformed herself into a beautiful maiden—a more beautiful was not to be found in the whole empire.

So the two kissed and caressed each other until after midnight, when the maiden stood up, thanked him for the apples, and would have gone, but he entreated her earnestly to leave him at least one. She gave him two—one he was to keep for himself, the other he might give to his father. Then she transformed herself into a Peahen and flew away with the others.

At daybreak the imperial Prince arose and carried the apples to his father, who was overjoyed at the sight, and heaped praises upon his son.

When evening came again the imperial Prince made ready his resting-place, as on the former evening, in order to watch the apple-tree. Having had the same experiences as on the preceding night, he again brought two golden apples to his father.

When this had gone on for several nights the brothers became envious, because they had not succeeded in guarding the apples. So they went to an old hag, who promised to spy upon the Prince and discover how he managed to guard the apple-tree so successfully. When evening came on, the old woman stole out to the tree, crept under the bed, and there hid herself.

Presently the youngest imperial Prince came out and betook himself, as usual, to rest. About midnight the nine Peahens came, and eight settled down upon the tree while the ninth flew down to the bed and transformed herself into a maiden. The old hag slyly seized the long braid of the maiden’s hair, which hung down below the edge of the bed, and cut it off. But the maiden sprang up quickly, transformed herself again into a Peahen and flew away, with all her companions following her, and so vanished.

The imperial Prince sprang up and cried out, “What is this?” He searched around and perceived the old hag under the bed, seized her, dragged her out, and the next day commanded that she should be put to death.

But the Peahens never returned to the apple-tree, and the imperial Prince mourned and bewailed himself without ceasing. At last he resolved to search for his little Peahen throughout the whole world, and never return home until he had found her. He told his resolution to his father, who tried to turn him from it, advising him to put the idea out of his head, and promising to find him another maiden, though he should have to search through his whole empire. But he spoke to deaf ears; the prince was firm, and set out with his servant to seek for his Peahen.

For a long time he wandered up and down the world, and one day he came to a lake, beside which he saw a magnificent great castle. In the castle he found an ancient dame, the Empress, and a little girl, her daughter. He asked the dame, “In Heaven’s name, little mother, can you give me any news about nine golden Peahens?”

And the dame answered, “To be sure I can, my son! They come every midnight to bathe in this lake. But leave those Peahens in peace. You shall have my little daughter, a splendid girl, and all my treasures shall be yours as well.”

But he had no ear for the old dame’s offer and no eye for the daughter, being filled with longing to see the Peahens. He arose early in the morning and went out to watch for the Peahens on the border of the lake.

But the old dame had bribed the Prince’s servant and given him a pair of bellows such as one blows the fire with, adding these directions:

“Do you see these bellows? When your master goes down to the lake, blow slyly upon his neck with them. He will then fall into a deep sleep and will not be able to speak with the Peahens.”

And to this the wretch of a servant consented.

When they were upon the lake-shore he seized a favorable opportunity and blew upon his master’s neck with the bellows, whereupon the poor Prince fell into a deathlike slumber. He had barely fallen asleep when the nine Peahens arrived; eight alighted in the lake, but the ninth flew to the Prince upon his steed, and began to embrace and try to waken him. “Awake, my life! Awake, my heart! Awake, my soul!” But he moved no more than the dead.

When the Peahens had bathed they all flew away, and he immediately awoke and asked the servant, “What is the matter? Have they been here?”

The servant answered that nine Peahens had flown down to the lake; eight had gone into the water, but the ninth had come to him, the Prince, upon his horse, had caressed and tried to awaken him. At these words the poor imperial Prince had nearly laid violent hands upon himself.

The next day he again mounted his steed and rode slowly along the lake-shore, his servant behind him. The servant again found an opportunity to blow upon his neck with the bellows, whereupon the Prince fell into a deathlike slumber. Scarcely was he asleep when the nine Peahens arrived; eight went down into the lake, but the ninth flew to him upon his steed, and began to embrace him and try to awaken him, saying, “Awake, my life! Awake, my heart! Awake, my soul!”

But all in vain; he slept sounder than the dead.

Then she said to the servant, “Tell your master to wait for me here again to-morrow, for he will never see us here again after that,” and she again flew away.

She was scarcely gone when the imperial Prince awoke and asked the servant, “Have they been here?” The servant replied, “To be sure, and they left word for you to expect them here again to-morrow; but after that they will never again come to this place.”

When the unhappy Prince heard this he was beside himself, and tore his hair for grief and pain.

At dawn of the third day he again went down to the lake and rode along the shore, but at the fleetest pace possible, in order not to be overtaken by sleep. But even this time the servant found an opportunity to blow upon his neck with the bellows, whereupon the Prince immediately stretched himself out upon the horse’s back and fell asleep.

He was hardly asleep when the nine Peahens came flying to the spot. Eight of them went down into the lake, but the ninth flew to him upon the horse and began to embrace him and to call, “Awake, my life! Awake, my heart! Awake, my soul!” But all in vain, for he slept like the dead.

Then the Peahen said to the servant, “When your master awakes, say to him, he must drive the upper wedge after the lower before he will be able to find me.” With these words the Peahens flew away.

When they were gone the imperial Prince awoke and said to the servant, “Have they been here?” The servant answered, “To be sure, and the one which seated herself upon your horse gave me orders to tell you that you must drive the upper wedge after the lower, and then you would find her.”

When he heard this the Prince drew his sword and struck off the servant’s head. Then he went on alone through the world.

After long, long wanderings he reached a high mountain, where he spent the night with a hermit. From him he asked tidings of the nine Peahens. The hermit answered:

“My son, you are surely fortune’s own child! God himself has led you in the right way. It is hardly more than half a day’s journey from here to there. You have only to ride straight forward and you will come to a great gate. Then turn to the right and you will come straight to the city where their castle is.”

By morning dawn the Prince awoke, dressed himself, pressed his warmest thanks upon the hermit, and set out in the direction indicated. He went straight forward, reached the great gate, passed through it, and about noon he perceived a dazzling city, at sight of which his heart cried out for joy.

In the city he inquired for the castle of the golden Peahens. At the castle-gate a guard stopped him, asked after his country and station, and when he had given the required information the guard went in to announce him to the Empress.

When she heard of his arrival she ran to meet him like one beside herself—being, of course, in human form; and giving him her arm she led him into the castle. Great joy reigned through all the place, and after a few days the pair were married, and he remained thenceforth beside his beloved wife.

After a time the Empress went on an excursion, leaving the Prince at home in the castle. Before going she gave him the keys of the twelve rooms on the ground floor, with the words, “You may go into all of them except the twelfth. Open that one on no account, for you stake your head in that game.” With this warning she went away.

The imperial Prince remained alone in the castle, and began to wonder, “What can be in that twelfth room?” Upon this he opened one room after the other, and when he came to the twelfth he hesitated awhile about opening it. But the thought, “What can be in there?” gave him no rest.

He therefore resolved to open the room; and lo! in the middle of it stood a great open cask encircled with iron hoops, and a voice from within cried, “In Heaven’s name, brother, I adjure thee, give me a glass of water! I am perishing with thirst!”

The imperial Prince took a glass of water and poured it into the cask, whereupon one hoop of the cask fell off. Then again the voice cried out of the cask, “For Heaven’s sake, brother, I am perishing with thirst! Give me another glass of water!”

The imperial Prince poured in another glass of water, and the second hoop fell from the cask. A third time the voice cried from the cask, “In Heaven’s name, brother, I am perishing with thirst! Give me one more glass of water!”

The imperial Prince poured in a third glass, whereupon the third hoop dropped off, the cask fell asunder, and a Dragon flew out, and meeting the Empress upon the way, he carried her off as a prize. Soon her attendants came in with the news, and the unhappy imperial Prince knew not what to do for grief.

He finally decided to set out once more in search of his wife, and so he wandered a long time up and down the world until he came to a sheet of water upon the border of which he saw a little Fish floundering about in a puddle. When the Fish saw the Prince he begged him earnestly:

“For Heaven’s sake, be a brother to me and throw me back into the water! Some day I may be of the greatest use to you. Only pull off one of my scales, and if you need my help rub it a little.”

The imperial Prince took up the Fish and pulled out one of its scales. He threw the Fish into the water, but the scale he wrapped up in his handkerchief.

After a time, while he was still wandering about in the wide world, he came upon a Fox which was caught in a trap. When the Fox saw him he cried, “For Heaven’s sake, be a brother to me and set me free from this trap! I shall soon have occasion to do you service; only take one of my hairs, and when you need my service rub it a little.” So the imperial Prince took the hair and set the Fox at liberty.

Later, as he was going over a high mountain, he found a Wolf in a trap. The Wolf also said to him when he saw him, “For Heaven’s sake, be a brother to me and set me free. I will be your helper in time of need; only take out one of my hairs, and if you need my aid rub it a little.”

So the imperial Prince took the hair and set the Wolf free, and then went on his journey.

After a long time he met a man, to whom he said, “In the name of Heaven, brother, have you ever heard where the Dragon-emperor’s castle is?”

The man cheerfully told him, even to the very moment when he would best present himself there. The imperial Prince expressed his thanks, went straight on, and at last, nearly dead with fatigue, he arrived at the Dragon’s castle. He found his beloved one there, and both were overjoyed at the meeting.

Then they took counsel as to the best way to attempt a flight. They finally came to a decision, and, making ready with all despatch, they mounted their horses to flee. But they had hardly left the castle when the Dragon came riding home. He entered the castle, but the Empress was gone!

So he said to his horse, “What shall we do now? Shall we eat and drink comfortably, or shall we hasten after the fugitives?”

The horse replied, “Eat and drink; we shall soon overtake them. That is the least of your troubles.”

After dinner, therefore, the Dragon mounted his horse, and in a trice had overtaken the fugitives. When he came up to them he snatched the Empress from the Prince, with the words, “Go, in God’s name! I forgive you this time, because you gave me water; but never come back again, as you value your life.”

The unhappy Prince went on a little farther, but the longing of his heart was too strong, and he turned about. The next day he reappeared in the Dragon’s castle. He found the Empress alone and drowned in tears. They again took counsel how they might escape, and the imperial Prince thus spoke his mind:

“When the Dragon comes home, ask him where he obtained that horse. Then do you tell me, that I may try to get one of the same kind, to outrun him if possible.” With these words he went away.

When the Dragon came home the Empress coaxed and cajoled him, talking of all sorts of things, until at last she said, “Well, upon my word, you have a fleet horse! Tell me, in Heaven’s name, where did you get him?”

He replied, “Where I got him it would not be easy to get another. In such-and-such a high mountain lives an old woman who has twelve horses, each one finer than the other, all standing before their mangers. But in the corner stands a wretched, mangy horse; at least he looks so at a first glance, but in fact he is the best one of all. He is the brother of my horse. Heaven itself would not be too far off for the owner of that steed. But whoever would get him from that old hag must serve her for three days. She has a mare and a foal, and she will require that they be watched for three nights. Whoever succeeds in doing so may choose among her horses. But if any one enters her service and fails to keep watch of the mare and colt, off goes his head!”

The next day when the Dragon was from home the imperial Prince came to learn what the Empress had discovered. Then he went to that high mountain where the old woman was, and greeted her with, “God bless you, little mother!” and she answered with the pious greeting, “God help you, my little son! What good luck brings you here?”

He: “I have a mind to enter your service.”

She: “Very well, my little son. If you will keep watch of the mare and foal for three whole days, then you may take your choice among my horses; but if you fail, off goes your head!”

Upon this she led him into the courtyard. It was surrounded by a close paling, and on every pale was stuck a human head. Only one was unoccupied, and this one cried incessantly, “Old woman, put a head here!”

The old woman showed all this to the Prince, with the words, “You see, all these were in my service without being able to guard the mare.”

The imperial Prince was not to be frightened by such an exhibition, but remained to serve the old woman. When it grew dark he mounted the mare and rode out into the field, the foal running along beside the mother. He sat constantly upon her back, but toward midnight he fell asleep, and when toward dawn he awoke he found himself astride a block of wood, holding fast to the halter.

When he saw this he was filled with horror, and sprang up to search for the mare. In the course of his search he came upon a piece of water. It reminded him of the little Fish which he had rescued from the puddle and thrown into the lake. He therefore took the scale out of his handkerchief and rubbed it a little between his fingers. The Fish immediately spoke from the water, saying to him, “What is your desire, brother soul?”

He answered, “That old hag’s mare has given me the slip. I know not where to find her.”

The Fish returned, “She is here with us; she has transformed herself into a fish and the foal into a little fish. Just strike upon the water with the halter and say, ‘The old hag’s mare still lives!’”

So he struck upon the water, saying, “The old hag’s mare still lives!” and the mare became what she had been before and swam to the shore with her foal. He therefore put the halter upon her neck again, mounted her, and returned to the house, the foal running along by her side.

When they reached the house the old woman gave him food; but she led the mare into the stable and beat her with the oven-fork, saying, “Go among the fishes, you wretch!”

The mare answered, “Indeed, I did go among the fishes, but they are in league with him and they betrayed me.”

Upon this the old hag rejoined, “Then go among the foxes!”

Before dark the Prince again mounted the mare and went out into the field, the foal running alongside. He sat continually upon the mare, but toward midnight he fell asleep upon her back, and when he awoke he found himself astride a block of wood, holding fast to the halter.

When he saw this he was overcome with terror and sprang upon his feet to seek the mare. Suddenly he remembered what the old woman had said to the mare, and he drew the Fox’s hair out of his kerchief, rubbed it between his fingers the least bit, and behold! the Fox stood before him, saying, “What is the matter, brother soul?”

The Prince answered, “The old hag’s mare has escaped me, and I do not know where to find her.”

The Fox: “She is among us; she has changed herself into a fox and the foal into a fox-cub. Just strike upon the ground with the halter and say, ‘The old hag’s mare still lives!’”

So the Prince struck upon the earth with the halter, saying, “The old hag’s mare still lives!” and the mare again returned to her former shape and stood before him with her colt, as if she had just arisen from the earth. So he put the halter upon her, mounted, and rode back to the house, the foal running quietly at her side.

Arrived at home, the old woman placed food before him; but she led the mare into the stable and fell upon her with the oven-fork, saying, “Go among the foxes, you wretch!”

The mare answered, “Indeed, I did go among the foxes, but they are in league with him and betrayed me.” She answered, “Then go among the wolves!”

When evening came the imperial Prince mounted the mare and rode out to the field, with the foal running alongside. He sat continually upon her back, but about midnight he fell asleep, and when he awoke he perceived that he was astride a block of wood, with the halter in his hand. When he saw this he sprang to his feet and began to search for the mare; but in a moment he remembered what the old woman had said, and without delay he drew forth the Wolf’s hair from his kerchief and rubbed it between his fingers.

There was the Wolf upon the spot. “What is the matter, brother soul?”

The Prince answered, “The old hag’s mare has escaped, and I do not know where she is.”

The Wolf: “She is here among us; she has changed herself into a wolf and her foal into a wolf-cub. But strike upon the earth with the halter and say, ‘The old hag’s mare still lives!’”

So he struck upon the earth with the halter, saying, “The old hag’s mare still lives!” and, as before, she suddenly appeared, with the foal at her side. Then the imperial Prince put the halter upon her, mounted, and rode home, the foal running quietly by her side.

Arrived at home, the old woman gave him food; but she led the mare into the stable and trounced her well with the oven-fork, crying to her, “Why did you not go among the wolves?”

The mare answered, “Indeed, I was among the wolves, but they are in league with him and betrayed me.”

So the old woman came out, and the imperial Prince said to her, “See here, old woman, I have served you true and faithful; give me the wages you promised to give me.”

The old woman: “What has been promised must be performed, my son; take your choice among the twelve horses in my stable.”

But he answered, “Ah, how should I choose? Give me the one in the corner—that mangy one there; these fine steeds don’t suit me.”

The old woman tried to talk him out of it. “What whim is this, choosing that mangy beast when there are so many splendid horses here?”

But he stood by his choice, and said, “Give me the one I want; that was the agreement.”

The old woman saw no help for it, and gave him the mangy horse, whereupon he took leave of her and went away, leading the horse by the bridle. As soon as he found himself in the forest he rubbed and curried his horse until his coat shone like pure gold. Then he mounted him and set out at full speed. The horse flew like the wind, and in a twinkling had borne him to the Dragon’s castle.

As soon as the imperial Prince had entered he said to the Empress, “Get ready for the journey as quickly as possible!”

In a moment both were ready. They mounted the horse and set forth in the name of God.

Somewhat later the Dragon came home and found the Empress gone. He therefore asked his horse, “What now? Shall we eat and drink at our ease, or shall we pursue after them?”

And the horse replied, “Eat or not, drink or not, pursue or not, you will never overtake them.”

When the Dragon heard this he sprang upon his horse and rushed after them.

When the pair saw the Dragon coming on behind them they were overcome with affright and spurred the horse to greater speed. Now the horse was a Vila, and he said to them, “Have no fear; you have no need to hasten.”

Now and again, as the Dragon gained upon them, the Dragon’s horse cried to the Prince’s horse, “For Heaven’s sake, brother, wait a little. I shall burst if I have to chase you any longer.”

But the other answered, “What a fool you are to carry that demon upon your back! Rear up smartly and dash him upon the rocks, and come with me!”

When the Dragon’s horse heard this he ducked his head with all his might, and, throwing out his hind legs, he flung the Dragon upon the rocks, where he was dashed to fragments. Then the Dragon’s horse joined the fugitives, the Empress mounted him, and so they went safely home to their own empire, and reigned there until their dying day.

“I like Vilas very much, mother’s-mother,” said the little boy. “Can you tell any more Vila stories?”

“Father says we are going home to-morrow,” said the little boy’s mother, who had long ago finished the housework and was sitting there with her knitting.

“But it isn’t night yet,” said the little boy eagerly. “You could tell me another story before night.”

“Tell him the wonderful story you used to tell me when I teased you for another,” said the mother, laughing.

“Well,” said the other grandmother; and she told

“Ah, little mother, little mother, come, tell me a pretty fairy tale!”

“Well, would you like to hear the story of the Black Bear and the Ram? It is a very sad story.”

“Oh, yes, yes!”

“I didn’t say ‘Oh, yes, yes,’ but ‘Would you like to hear the tale of the Black Bear and the Ram?’”

“Yes, indeed, only tell it quick!”

“I didn’t say ‘Yes, indeed, only tell it quick,’ but ‘Would you like to hear the tale of the Black Bear and the Ram?’”

“O dear mother, if you don’t tell it soon I shall begin to cry!”

“Did I not tell you it was a sad story? However, I did not say ‘O dear mother, if you don’t tell it soon I shall begin to cry,’ but ‘Would you like to hear the tale of the Black Bear and the Ram?’”

“Would you like to hear the tale of the Black Bear and the Ram?”

“There, you see, you know most of it already, and there is only the end:

Done already?

The little boy listened with a very sober face. Finally he said:

“Why did you use to tell mother that story?”

“Because that is the way to silence teasing children,” replied the other grandmother. “They used to do just the way it tells in the story in my great-grandmother’s time.”

Again there was a pause. The knitting-needles clicked fast.

“Am I a teasing child?” asked the little boy at last.

“No, you are not, bless your little heart!” said the other grandmother. “Mother’s-mother likes to tell you stories. Only you should not sit quiet too long. You ought to play now.”

The little boy went close to the other grandmother’s side, and looking up into her face, he said very coaxingly:

“But I am going away to-morrow, little mother’s-mother. Won’t you tell me one more story?”

“Run out and see if the sun is setting,” said the other grandmother. “If it has not yet gone down I will tell you another story.”

The little boy ran out in the greatest hurry. The other grandmother’s house was upstairs and it had no court—that was why she kept neither cow nor fowl. So he had to run down the dark stone stairway, and he was in such haste that he fell down the last two steps. But he picked himself up and ran out. There at the far end of the long street was the sun, still quite above the clouds that would wrap him up in bed by and by.

The little boy ran upstairs, breathless. “He is up, mother’s-mother! He hasn’t gone to bed yet! The story, please!”

And the other grandmother told about

Once upon a time there was a father who had three sons. Two of them passed for clever, but the third and youngest was stupid, as every one agreed. When people wanted anything done they only called upon the two clever ones, while they would not let the stupid one have anything to do with them.

In their father’s garden was a silver pear-tree which every night bore flowers and fruit; but the pears were regularly plucked and carried away by the Vilas. “What the mischief!” said the eldest and the second brother, “how long is this thing going to last?” and they determined to mount guard over the tree. But to their youngest brother they said, “You are too stupid for this work.”

So they carried feather-beds and pillows out under the tree, lay down, and went to sleep. While they were sleeping the Vilas came, plucked the pears, and went away. As soon as they were gone the brothers awoke, went back to the house, and told what had happened.

Then the stupid brother declared that he would watch the tree. That he might not be overcome with sleep he made himself a bed of thorns; but in spite of all he fell asleep. Yet he awaked when the Vilas came, and saw one of them standing at his side. He pulled out one of her hairs, whereupon the Vila vanished.

When morning came he saw that the hair was of gold. Going home, he told what had happened to him, and declared his intention to go through the world to seek out that Vila. But the two clever brothers answered, “What would you be able to find? It is better for us two clever ones to go and seek her. Something may come of it then.”

So the two set out upon their way. The eldest found a shovel and took it with him, and it did him good service. For when they got to the Moon they found the door locked. Then they dug under the door and went in. They found only the Moon-mother at home, and of her they inquired if such-and-such a Vila lived there.

The Moon-mother answered, “She lives in the Sun. How will you get there? But see, here is a spider; she shall spin you a chain that will reach from here to there.”

The spider went to work, spun a chain, and fastened it to the lock of the Sun-door. So the brothers set out upon this bridge; but while they were on the way the Sun came home, opened the door, and snapped the chain in two. So the brothers fell off, and very luckily they tumbled into their god-father’s cabbage-garden. So they felt no harm, but went home and told their adventures.

Then the stupid brother set out. He found an ancient crone and begged her to show him the way to the Moon. The old crone told him it was not very hard to go there, and gave him a bucketful of down. So he seated himself in the bucket and flew up to the Moon.

He entered the house and asked if a certain Vila lived there who looked so-and-so. The Moon-mother answered, No, she lived in the Sun. So he flew up to the Sun, arrived there safely, and carefully hid his bucket in the cellar in the coolest place he could find, that it might not be melted by the heat.

Meantime the Sun came home and asked, “What is your wish?”

“I seek such-and-such a Vila.”

The Sun brought her out and gave her to him, and he seated himself beside her in the bucket and set out.

When they were half-way home the Sun came out to see how the travellers were getting on; and he shone on them so scorchingly that all the down was melted, the bucket lost its balance, and the youth and the Vila fell down to earth and were caught in a tree. They cannot go down, for under the tree sits an old wizard sorting out a capful of human hairs. But the Vila slipped softly down the tree and put the wizard to sleep. Then the youth clambered down and took the Vila home.

They reached his father’s house, where he told all his adventures; but the Vila was invisible to every one but her rescuer, so that no one believed his story. Then the Vila began to weep, and the brothers said, “Good! now we believe that she is here, but just where she is we do not know.”

Meantime the old wizard under the tree awoke, started out, and came into the room where they were. He greeted the Vila with “Good-day!” whereupon she became visible to every one as a beautiful maiden.

Soon after the youth married her. I was present at the wedding, ate and drank with the old man and conversed much with him; and we moistened our throats so often with sweet wine from Zagorje that my grandfather and I can taste it yet.

“Can you really, mother’s-mother?” exclaimed the little boy.

The other grandmother laughed. “That is only the way it ends,” she said. “Some stories end that way.”