bounded into the air and fell straight into the
river. Not that that would have mattered, for he was a good swimmer; but
Andras drew out the bow and arrows which every Lapp carries, and took
aim at him. His aim was good, but the Stalo sprang so high into the air
that the arrow flew between his feet. A second shot, directed at his
forehead, fared no better, for this time the Stalo jumped so high to
the other side that the arrow passed between his finger and thumb. Then
Andras aimed his third arrow a little over the Stalo's head, and when he
sprang up, just an instant too soon, it hit him between the ribs.

Mortally wounded as he was, the Stalo was not yet dead, and managed to
swim to the shore. Stretching himself on the sand, he said slowly to
Andras:

'Promise that you will give me an honourable burial, and when my body is
laid in the grave go in my boat across the fiord, and take whatever you
find in my house which belongs to me. My dog you must kill, but spare my
son, Andras.'

Then he died; and Andras sailed in his boat away across the fiord and
found the dog and boy. The dog, a fierce, wicked-looking creature, he
slew with one blow from his fist, for it is well known that if a Stalo's
dog licks the blood that flows from his dead master's wounds the Stalo
comes to life again. That is why no REAL Stalo is ever seen without his
dog; but the bailiff, being only half a Stalo, had forgotten him, when
he went to the little lakes in search of Andras. Next, Andras put all
the gold and jewels which he found in the boat into his pockets, and
bidding the boy get in, pushed it off from the shore, leaving the little
craft to drift as it would, while he himself ran home. With the treasure
he possessed he was able to buy a great herd of reindeer; and he soon
married a rich wife, whose parents would not have him as a son-in-law
when he was poor, and the two lived happy for ever after.

The White Slipper

[From Lapplandische Mahrchen, J. C. Poestion.]

Once upon a time there lived a king who had a daughter just fifteen
years old. And what a daughter!

Even the mothers who had daughters of their own could not help allowing
that the princess was much more beautiful and graceful than any of them;
and, as for the fathers, if one of them ever beheld her by accident he
could talk of nothing else for a whole day afterwards.

Of course the king, whose name was Balancin, was the complete slave of
his little girl from the mome