>So saying the gnome took himself off. And the princess with her magic wand >touched the wrinkled old women, and left them the withered roots they really >were, to be thrown upon the rubbish heap; and with light feet skipped off >across to the meadow to take possession of the freshly filled basket. But to >her surprise she could not find it anywhere. Up and down the garden she >searched, spying into every comer, but not a sign of it was to be found. By >the trellis of grapevines she met the gnome, who was so much embarrassed at >the sight of her that she became aware of his confusion while he was still >quite a long way off. >'You are trying to tease me,' she cried, as soon as she saw him. 'Where have >you hidden the basket? I have been looking for it at least an hour.' [begin Part 2] 'Dear queen of my heart,' answered he, 'I pray you to forgive my carelessness. I promised more than I could perform. I have sought all over the land for the roots you desire; but they are gathered in, and lie drying in musty cellars, and the fields are bare and desolate, for below in the valley winter reigns, only here in your presence spring is held fast, and wherever your foot is set the gay flowers bloom. Have patience for a little, and then without fail you shall have your puppets to play with.' Almost before the gnome had finished, the disappointed princess turned away, and marched off to her own apartments, without deigning to answer him. The gnome, however, set off above ground as speedily as possible, and disguising himself as a farmer, bought an ass in the nearest market-town, and brought it back loaded with sacks of turnip, carrot, and radish seed. With this he sowed a great field, and sent a vast army of his goblins to watch and tend it, and to bring up the fiery rivers from the heart of the earth near enough to warm and encourage the sprouting seeds. Thus fostered they grew and flourished marvellously, and promised a goodly Crop. The princess wandered about the field day by day, no other plants or fruits in all her wonderful garden pleased her as much as these roots; but still her eyes were full of discontent. And, best of all, she loved to while away the hours in a shady fir-wood, seated upon the bank of a little stream, into which she would cast the flowers she had gathered and watch them float away. The gnome tried hard by every means in his power to please the princess and win her love, but little did he guess the real reason of his lack of success. He imagined that she was too young and inexperienced to care for him; but that was a mistake, for the truth was that another image already filled her heart. The young Prince Ratibor, whose lands joined her father's, had won the heart of the princess; and the lovers had been looking forward to the coming of their wedding-day when the bride's mysterious disappearance took place. The sad news drove Ratibor distracted, and as the days went on, and nothing could be heard of the princess, he forsook his castle and the society of men, and spent his days in the wild forests, roaming about and crying her name aloud to the trees and rocks. Meanwhile, the maiden, in her gorgeous prison, sighed in secret over her grief, not wishing to arouse the gnome's suspicions. In her own mind she was wondering if by any means she might escape from her captivity, and at last she hit upon a plan. By this time spring once more reigned in the valley, and the gnome sent the fires back to their places in the deeps of the earth, for the roots which they had kept warm through all the cruel winter had now come to their full size. Day by day the princess pulled up some of them, and made experiments with them, conjuring up now this longed-for person, and now that ' just for the pleasure of seeing them as they appeared; but she really had another purpose in view. One day she changed a tiny turnip into a bee, and sent him off to bring her some news of her lover. 'Fly, dear little bee, towards the east,' said she, 'to my beloved Ratibor, and softly hum into his ear that I love him only, but that I am a captive in the gnome's palace under the mountains. Do not forget a single word of my greeting, and bring me back a message from my beloved.' So the bee spread his shining wings and flew away to do as he was bidden; but before he was out of sight greedy swallow made a snatch at him, and to the great grief of the princess her messenger was eaten up then and there. After that, by the power of the wonderful wand she summoned a cricket, and taught him this greeting: 'Hop, little cricket, to Ratibor, and chirp in his ear that I love him only, but that I am held captive by the gnome in his palace under the mountains.' So the cricket hopped off gaily, determined to do his best to deliver his message; but, alas! A long-legged stork who was prancing along the same road caught him in her cruel beak, and before he could say a word he had disappeared down her throat. These two unlucky ventures did not prevent the princess from trying once more. This time she changed the turnip into a magpie. 'Flutter from tree to tree, chattering bird,' said she, 'till you come to Ratibor, my love. Tell him that I am a captive, and bid him come with horses and men, the third day from this, to the hill that rises from the Thorny Valley.' The magpie listened, hopped awhile from branch to branch, and then darted away, the princess watching him anxiously as far as she could see. Now Prince Ratibor was still spending his life in wandering about the woods, and not even the beauty of the spring could soothe his grief. One day, as he sat in the shade of an oak tree, dreaming of his lost princess, and sometimes crying her name aloud, he seemed to hear another voice reply to his, and, starting up, he gazed around him, but he could see no one, and he had just made up his mind that he must be mistaken, when the same voice called again, and, looking up sharply, he saw a magpie which hopped to and fro among the twigs. Then Ratibor heard with surprise that the bird was indeed calling him by name. 'Poor chatterpie,' said he; 'who taught you to say that name, which belongs to an unlucky mortal who wishes the earth would open and swallow up him and his memory for ever?' Thereupon he caught up a great stone, and would have hurled it at the magpie, if it had not at that moment uttered the name of the princess. This was so unexpected that the prince's arm fell helplessly to his side at the sound, and he stood motionless. But the magpie in the tree, who, like all the rest of his family, was not happy unless he could be for ever chattering, began to repeat the message the princess had taught him; and as soon as he understood it, Prince Ratibor's heart was filled with joy. All his gloom and misery vanished in a moment, and he anxiously questioned the welcome messenger as to the fate of the princess. But the magpie knew no more than the lesson he had learnt, so he soon fluttered away; while the prince hurried back to his castle to gather together a troop of horsemen, full of courage for whatever might befall. The princess meanwhile was craftily pursuing her plan of escape. She left off treating the gnome with coldness and indifference; indeed, there was a look in her eyes, which encouraged him to hope that she might some day return his love, and the idea pleased him mightily. The next day, as soon as the sun rose, she made her appearance decked as a bride, in the wonderful robes and jewels, which the fond gnome had prepared for her. Her golden hair was braided and crowned with myrtle blossoms, and her flowing veil sparkled with gems. In these magnificent garments she went to meet the gnome upon the great terrace. 'Loveliest of maidens,' he stammered, bowing low before her, 'let me gaze into your dear eyes, and read in them that you will no longer refuse my love, but will make me the happiest being the sun shines upon.' So saying he would have drawn aside her veil; but the princess only held it more closely about her. 'Your constancy has overcome me,' she said; 'I can no longer oppose your wishes. But believe my words, and suffer this veil still to hide my blushes and tears.' ' Why tears, beloved one? ' cried the gnome anxiously; every tear of yours falls upon my heart like a drop of molten gold. Greatly as I desire your love, I do no a sacrifice.' 'Ah! ' cried the false princess, 'why do you misunderstand my tears? My heart answers to your tenderness and yet I am fearful. A wife cannot always charm, though you will never alter, the beauty of mortals is as a flower that fades. How can I be sure that you will always be as loving and charming as you are now?' 'Ask some proof, sweetheart,' said he. 'Put my obedience and my patience to some test by which you can judge of my unalterable love.' 'Be it so,' answered the crafty maiden. 'Then give me just one proof of your goodness. Go! Count the turnips in yonder meadow. My wedding feast must not lack guests. They shall provide me with bride-maidens too. But beware lest you deceive me, and do not miss a single one. That shall be the test of your truth towards me.' Unwilling as the gnome was to lose sight of his beautiful bride for a moment, he obeyed her commands without delay, and hurried off to begin his task. He skipped along among the turnips as nimbly as a grasshopper, and had soon counted them all; but, to be quite certain that he had made no mistake, he thought he would just run over them again. This time, to his great annoyance, the number was different; so he reckoned them for the third time, but now the number was not the same as either of the previous ones! And this was hardly to be wondered at, as his mind was full of the princess's pretty looks and words. As for the maiden, no sooner was her deluded lover fairly out of sight than she began to prepare for flight. She had a fine fresh turnip hidden close at hand, which she changed into a spirited horse, all saddled and bridled, and, springing upon its back, she galloped away over hill and dale till she reached the Thorny Valley, and flung herself into the arms of her beloved Prince Ratibor. Meanwhile the toiling gnome went through his task over and over again till his back ached and his head swam, and he could no longer put two and two together; but as he felt tolerably certain of the exact number of turnips in the field, big and little together, he hurried back eager to prove to his beloved one what a delightful and submissive husband he would be. He felt well satisfied with himself as he crossed the mossy lawn to the place where he had left her; but, alas! She was no longer there. He searched every thicket and path, he looked behind every tree, and gazed into every pond, but without success then he hastened into the palace and rushed from room to room, peering into every hole and corner and calling her by name; but only echo answered in the marble halls there was neither voiced nor footstep. Then he began to perceive that something was amiss, and, throwing off the mortal form that encumbered him, he flew out of the palace, and soared high into the air, and saw the fugitive princess in the far distance just as the swift horse carried her across the boundary of his dominions. Furiously did the enraged gnome fling two great clouds together, and hurl a thunderbolt after the flying maiden, splintering the rocky barriers, which had stood a thousand years. But his fury was vain, the thunder clouds melted away into a soft mist, and the gnome, after flying about for a while in despair, bewailing to the four winds his unhappy fate, went sorrowfully back to the palace, and stole once more through every room, with many sighs and lamentations. He passed through the gardens, which for him had lost their charm, and the sight of the princess's footprints on the golden sand of the pathway renewed his grief. All was lonely, empty, sorrowful; and the forsaken gnome resolved that he would have no more dealings with such false creatures as he had found men to be. Thereupon he stamped three times upon the earth, and the magic palace, with all its treasures, vanished away into the nothingness out of which he had called it' and the gnome fled once more to the depths of his underground kingdom. While all this was happening, Prince Ratibor was hurrying away with his princess to a place of safety. With great pomp and triumph he restored the lovely princess to her father, and was then there married to her, and took her back with him to his own castle. But long after she was dead, and her children too, the villagers would tell the tale of her imprisonment underground, as they sat carving wood in the winter nights. >From the Brown Fairy Book Edited by Andrew Lang Kath <mzmouser@earthlink.net> ~`* `*' `*' `* `*' `*' *' `*' *' `*' `* `*' *' `*' ~~~