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one a puppy, and said: —

      “The one whose puppy grows into the most beautiful dog shall be my bride.”

      So the three women took their puppies, and brushed them and combed them and washed them and fed them, till they were so fat they could hardly move; but the poor girl let hers run away.

      The women came and mocked her as before, but all she could say was “Baa, baa!”

      Again it was the eve of the day when they were to appear before the prince, and again the girl sat sobbing in her stable and calling “Tassa, Tassa!”

      “What do you want, ugly wench?”

      “My dog has run away, and to-morrow we go before the king.”

      “Take this walnut, and crack it as you did the filbert. But you don’t deserve to be helped.”

      The next day the whole court was assembled again. The three women presented their dogs, which waddled about and behaved very dirtily and badly.

      “And what have you done?” said the prince to the girl.

      “Baa, baa,” said she, and cracked the walnut. Out jumped the most lovely tiny dog, with a golden collar and golden tinkling bells; he fawned upon the king and the prince, and quite won their hearts by his pretty manners.

      “One more trial,” said the prince. “All appear before me again in a week’s time, and I will marry the most beautiful.”

      All that week the three women washed themselves, and scented themselves, and rubbed themselves till they rubbed the skin off, and pomaded their hair till it shone like a looking-glass; but the girl sat among the sheep and wept.

      On the last day of the week the women began to put on their fine dresses and ornaments; and the unhappy girl sobbed more bitterly than ever, and called out, “Tassa, Tassa!”

      “What do you want, pretty maiden?”

      “To-morrow we go before the prince. What shall I do?”

      “Go with the others: and if he marries you don’t forget to say good-bye to me.”

      The next morning the three women with their grand dresses, and their pomade, and their scent, strutted boldly in before the court and the prince.

      “Go to the stable and bring the fourth,” commanded the prince: and one of the courtiers went down.

      Soon the door opened and the room was filled with a blaze of light, as the beautiful maiden, sheep no longer, entered and knelt humbly before the king.

      “That is my bride,” said the prince, as he raised her and kissed her: “You others may go.”

      So a grand wedding-feast was prepared, and this time the girl did not forget to say good-bye to the fairy who had been so kind to her.

      PADRE ULIVO

      “Strange, lingering echoes of the old demon-worship might perhaps be even now caught by the diligent listener among the grey-haired peasantry,” says George Eliot, speaking of the Midland Counties of England. Stranger yet, perhaps, is the survival of the old pagan spirit, the haunting echo of old pagan legend, which any visitor to the hills of Tuscany may verify. Let him join the peasants as they meet now in one house, now in another, to spend the long winter evenings round the fire; or let him stroll, in the early autumn, into some low, dark kitchen where neighbours sit among piles of chestnut twigs, busily stripping off the leaves and making them into bundles for winter use in the baking of chestnut cakes (necci). There, among stornelli and rispetti, he may well chance upon some such shrewd, quaint tale as the following: —

      Once upon a time there was a man called Padre Ulivo. He was always cheerful, always singing, and very fond of good company. He had a barrel of wine in the cellar, and every evening his friends used to come and see him, sit round the fire, eat, drink, sing, and lead a merry life. But at last the barrel was empty, and all his provisions run out, so that he had nothing more to offer to those who came, and all his pleasant evenings were at an end. Now everyone avoided him, and his cottage grew dull and lonely. One night he had just enough flour left for one small cake.

      “Well,” said he, “I’ll make a little schiacciata this evening, bake it in the ashes, and to-morrow I must take what God sends.”

      So he made the schiacciata, ate half of it, and got into bed. He had not been there long before he heard a knock at the door.

      “Who’s there?” he called out.

      “Padre Ulivo,” said a voice from outside, “we want to come in and warm ourselves at your fire; open the door to us.”

      So Padre Ulivo jumped out of bed, opened the door, and there were twelve men outside.

      “Wait a minute while I put on my trousers,” said he, for he was in his shirt.

      “Now, Padre Ulivo,” said one of the men, “we want something to eat.”

      “Something to eat! How can I give you that when I have nothing in the house! I made a little schiacciata of my last flour this evening. Look, here’s the bit I’ve not eaten.”

      “No, no; you must give us something to eat – we’re hungry.”

      “But, indeed, I don’t do it to deceive you. I have nothing; absolutely nothing.”

      “Go and look again in the cupboard.”

      “But what’s the good? It’s empty. Do you believe that I want to deceive you?”

      “Go and look, at all events.”

      So Padre Ulivo opened the cupboard, and found it quite full of meat and bread, and everything nice. Quite full! and of such good things as he had never hoped to have.

      “Oh!” said he, “don’t think I was deceiving you; there really was nothing there last time I went to it.”

      So he laid the table and they began to eat.

      “But we want wine,” said the man; “go to the cellar and get some.”

      “I have none,” said Padre Ulivo; “I used up all mine some time ago.”

      “Go and see.”

      “But it’s no good; my barrel is quite empty. Indeed it is not because I am greedy. I have none left.”

      “Go and see. We’ll come too.”

      So they all went down to the cellar.

      “You see,” said Padre Ulivo, tapping the barrel. “Listen how hollow it sounds!”

      “Draw out the spigot.”

      He did so, and immediately there spurted out such a stream of wine as knocked him right against the opposite wall.

      “Oh, oh!” said he. “I swear it was empty last time I came here.”

      Then he filled a big jug, and they all went upstairs and made a good supper.

      “Now we want to sleep here,” said the men.

      “But I have only one bed,” answered Padre Ulivo; “and there are thirteen of us! I know what I’ll do, though; I’ll put the mattress on the floor, and we must manage the best way we can.”

      So he put the mattress on the floor, spread sheets on it, and they slept comfortably, some on the mattress and some on the bed.

      The next morning the men went away, and Padre Ulivo accompanied them for some little distance on their journey, walking behind with one who was especially friendly.

      “The one in front,” said this man, “the most important of us all, is Dominiddio2 himself. Go and ask him a favour.”

      So Padre Ulivo ran on, and threw himself on his knees in the road.

      “What do you want?” said Dominiddio. “I will grant you whatever you ask for.”

      “I want that anyone who sits down on my chair may be unable to rise without my permission.”

      “Be

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