and sleeps till they are heard no
longer. Take the instrument, and play upon it so long as you remain
in the Fairy Aurora's kingdom. No one will harm you, for every
creature will be asleep."

Petru now told his hostess what he meant to do, and Holy Friday was
still more delighted. They did not talk much more. Why should they? it
was already long past midnight. Petru said "good night," thrust the
flute into its case, and went up to the garret to get some sleep. When
morning dawned, the hero was already awake and the morning-star had
hardly risen in the sky ere he was up. He took a large manger, filled
it with red-hot coals, and went out to feed his horses. After the bay
had eaten nine and each of the other horses three full cribs of fire,
Petru led them to the spring, watered them, and prepared to continue
his journey.

"Stop," Holy Friday called from the window. "I have a word more to
say. I want to give you a piece of advice."

Petru went to the window.

"Leave one horse here, and go on with only three. Ride slowly until
you have reached the Fairy Aurora's kingdom. Then dismount and enter
her country on foot. Then, when you return, come so that you will
leave all three steeds lying in the road and arrive here on foot."

"I will obey every word," said Petru, trying to go on.

"Don't be in a hurry, I haven't finished yet," Holy Friday continued.
"Don't look at the Fairy Aurora, for her eyes bewitch, her glances rob
a man of his reason. She is ugly, too ugly to be described. She has
owl's eyes, a fox's face, and cat's claws. Do you hear? Don't look at
her. And may the Lord bring you back to me safe and sound, my son
Petru."

Petru thanked her for her counsel and lingered no longer. Where should
he find time to gossip with old women? He left the bay horse in the
meadow and continued his journey.

Far, far away, where the sky meets the earth and the stars talk to the
flowers, appeared a bright rosy glow, almost like that of the sky in
early spring, only still more beautiful and wonderful. This was the
Fairy Aurora's palace. The whole space between was filled with flowery
meadows. Then, too, it was neither warm nor cold, neither light nor
dark, but midway between, just as it is on St. Peter's day when one
rises early in the morning to drive the cattle to pasture. Petru rode
through this beautiful region with a happy heart. How long he rode can
not be told in human language, for in that country night does not
foll