dawn on him. 'Was it he who fetched the sword?' asked
the king.

'Yes, it was,' answered the princess; and she told him the whole story,
and how she had broken her gold ring and given him half of it. And the
prince took out his half of the ring, and the princess took out hers,
and they fitted exactly. Next day the Red Knight was hanged, as he
richly deserved, and there was a new marriage feast for the prince and
princess.

[Lapplandische Mahrchen.]

Pivi and Kabo

When birds were men, and men were birds, Pivi and Kabo lived in an
island far away, called New Claledonia. Pivi was a cheery little bird
that chirps at sunset; Kabo was an ugly black fowl that croaks in the
darkness. One day Pivi and Kabo thought that they would make slings, and
practice slinging, as the people of the island still do. So they went to
a banyan tree, and stripped the bark to make strings for their slings,
and next they repaired to the river bank to find stones. Kabo stood on
the bank of the river, and Pivi went into the water. The game was for
Kabo to sling at Pivi, and for Pivi to dodge the stones, if he could.
For some time he dodged them cleverly, but at last a stone from Kabo's
sling hit poor Pivi on the leg and broke it. Down went Pivi into the
stream, and floated along it, till he floated into a big hollow bamboo,
which a woman used for washing her sweet potatoes.

'What is that in my bamboo?' said the woman. And she blew in at one end,
and blew little Pivi out at the other, like a pea from a pea-shooter.

'Oh!' cried the woman, 'what a state you are in! What have you been
doing?'

'It was Kabo who broke my leg at the slinging game,' said Pivi.

'Well, I am sorry for you,' said the woman; 'will you come with me, and
do what I tell you?'

'I will!' said Pivi, for the woman was very kind and pretty. She took
Pivi into a shed where she kept her fruit laid him on a bed of mats,
and made him as comfortable as she could, and attended to his broken leg
without cutting off the flesh round the bone, as these people usually
do.

'You will be still, won't you, Pivi?' she said. 'If you hear a little
noise you will pretend to be dead. It is the Black Ant who will come and
creep from your feet up to your head. Say nothing, and keep quiet, won't
you, Pivi?'

'Certainly, kind lady,' said Pivi, 'I will lie as still as can be.'

'Next will come the big Red Ant--you know him?'

'Yes, I know him, with his feet like a grasshopper's.'