ds are so muddy, after the winter's rains. I could rub your shell
for you till it was bright and shining again.

'Well, I AM rather muddy. If one is fighting, you know, one cannot stop
to pick one's way. I should certainly be more comfortable if my back was
washed.'

The woman did not wait for him to change his mind. She caught him up
by his shell and popped him straight into the pot, where he sank to the
bottom, and died instantly.

The other turtles, who were standing at the door, saw their leader
disappear, and felt it was their duty as soldiers to follow him;
and, springing into the pot, died too. All but one young turtle, who,
frightened at not seeing any of his friends come out again, went as fast
as he could to a clump of bushes, and from there made his way to the
river. His only thought was to get away as far as possible from that
dreadful hut; so he let the river carry him where it was going itself,
and at last, one day, he found himself in the warm sea, where, if he is
not dead, you may meet him still.

[Bureau of Ethnology.]

How Geirald The Coward Was Punished

Once upon a time there lived a poor knight who had a great many
children, and found it very hard to get enough for them to eat. One
day he sent his eldest son, Rosald, a brave and honest youth, to the
neighbouring town to do some business, and here Rosald met a young man
named Geirald, with whom he made friends.

Now Geirald was the son of a rich man, who was proud of the boy, and had
all his life allowed him to do whatever he fancied, and, luckily for the
father, he was prudent and sensible, and did not waste money, as many
other rich young men might have done. For some time he had set his heart
on travelling into foreign countries, and after he had been talking
for a little while to Rosald, he asked if his new friend would be his
companion on his journey.

'There is nothing I should like better,' answered Rosald, shaking his
head sorrowfully; 'but my father is very poor, and he could never give
me the money.'

'Oh, if that is your only difficulty, it is all right,' cried Geirald.
'My father has more money than he knows what to do with, and he will
give me as much as I want for both of us; only, there is one thing you
must promise me, Rosald, that, supposing we have any adventures, you
will let the honour and glory of them fall to me.'

'Yes, of course, that is only fair,' answered Rosald, who never cared
about putting himself