he took hold of the reins and said to the man, 'We
two can go along together on foot.'

As they went on their way Hans told the stranger both about the errand
he had on hand and the fun he had had with Old Eric. The other said but
little but he was well acquainted with the way, and it was no long time
before they arrived at the gate. There both horse and rider disappeared,
and Hans was left alone outside. 'They will come and let me in
presently,' he thought to himself; but no one came. He hammered at the
gate; still no one appeared. Then he got tired of waiting, and smashed
at the gate with his staff until he knocked it in pieces and got inside.
A whole troop of little demons came down upon him and asked what he
wanted. His master's compliments, said Hans, and he wanted three years'
tribute. At this they howled at him, and were about to lay hold of him
and drag him off; but when they had got some raps from his walking-stick
they let go again, howled still louder than before, and ran in to Old
Eric, who was still in bed, after his adventure in the lake. They told
him that a messenger had come from the squire at Devilmoss to demand
three years' tribute. He had knocked the gate to pieces and bruised
their arms and legs with his iron staff.

'Give him three years'! give him ten!' shouted Old Eric, 'only don't let
him come near me.'

So all the little demons came dragging so much silver and gold that it
was something awful. Hans filled his bundle with gold and silver coins,
put it on his neck, and tramped back to his master, who was scared
beyond all measure at seeing him again.

But Hans was also tired of service now. Of all the gold and silver
he brought with him he let the squire keep one half, and he was glad
enough, both for the money and at getting rid of Hans. The other half
he took home to his father the smith in Furreby. To him also he said,
'Farewell;' he was now tired of living on shore among mortal men, and
preferred to go home again to his mother. Since that time no one has
ever seen Hans, the Mermaid's son.

Peter Bull

From the Danish.

There once lived in Denmark a peasant and his wife who owned a very good
farm, but had no children. They often lamented to each other that they
had no one of their own to inherit all the wealth that they possessed.
They continued to prosper, and became rich people, but there was no heir
to it all.

One year it happened that they owned a pretty little bull-calf