l procession. The King of that
country was following his father's coffin, and with the tears running
down his cheeks.

"May God comfort you in your distress," said Plavacek.

"Thank you, good traveler. Where are you going?"

"To the house of Dede-Vsevede in quest of three of his golden hairs."

"To the house of Dede-Vsevede? Indeed! What a pity you did not come
sooner, we have long been expecting such a messenger as you. Come and
see me by-and-by."

When Plavacek presented himself at court the King said to him:

"We understand you are on your way to the house of Dede-Vsevede! Now
we have an apple-tree here that bears the fruit of everlasting youth.
One of these apples eaten by a man, even though he be dying, will cure
him and make him young again. For the last twenty years neither fruit
nor flower has been found on this tree. Will you ask Dede-Vsevede the
cause of it?"

"That I will, with pleasure."

Then Plavacek continued his journey, and as he went he came to a large
and beautiful city where all was sad and silent. Near the gate was an
old man who leaned on a stick and walked with difficulty.

"May God bless you, good old man."

"And you, too, my handsome young traveler. Where are you going?"

"To Dede-Vsevede's palace in search of three of his golden hairs."

"Ah, you are the very messenger I have so long waited for. Allow me to
take you to my master the King."

On their arrival at the palace, the King said, "I hear you are an
ambassador to Dede-Vsevede. We have here a well, the water of
which renews itself. So wonderful are its effects that invalids are
immediately cured on drinking it, while a few drops sprinkled on a
corpse will bring it to life again. For the past twenty years this
well has remained dry: if you will ask old Dede-Vsevede how the flow
of water may be restored I will reward you royally."

Plavacek promised to do so, and was dismissed with good wishes. He
then traveled through deep dark forests, in the midst of which might
be seen a large meadow: out of it grew lovely flowers, and in the
center stood a castle built of gold. It was the home of Dede-Vsevede.
So brilliant with light was it that it seemed to be built of fire.
When he entered there was no one there but an old woman spinning.

"Greeting, Plavacek, I am well pleased to see you."

She was his godmother, who had given him shelter in her cottage when
he was the bearer of the King's letter.

"Tell me what brings you here f