the first spoonful he took up the ring, and a thrill ran through
him; in the second he beheld the feather and rose from his chair.

'Who has cooked this feast?' asked he, and the real cook, who had come
back from the race, was brought before him.

'He may be the cook, but he did not cook this feast,' said the
bridegroom, and then inquiry was made, and the girl was summoned to the
great hall.

'That is my married wife,' he declared, 'and no one else will I have,'
and at that very moment the spells fell off him, and never more would he
be a hoodie. Happy indeed were they to be together again, and little did
they mind that the hill of poison took long to cross, for she had to go
some way forwards, and then throw the horse-shoes back for him to put
on. Still, at last they were over, and they went back the way she had
come, and stopped at the three houses in order to take their little sons
to their own home.

But the story never says who had stolen them, nor what the coarse comb
had to do with it.

From 'West Highland Tales.'

The Brownie of the Lake

Once upon a time there lived in France a man whose name was Jalm Riou.
You might have walked a whole day without meeting anyone happier or more
contented, for he had a large farm, plenty of money, and above all, a
daughter called Barbaik, the most graceful dancer and the best-dressed
girl in the whole country side. When she appeared on holidays in her
embroidered cap, five petticoats, each one a little shorter than the
other, and shoes with silver buckles, the women were all filled with
envy, but little cared Barbaik what they might whisper behind her back
as long as she knew that her clothes were finer than anyone else's and
that she had more partners than any other girl.

Now amongst all the young men who wanted to marry Barbaik, the one whose
heart was most set on her was her father's head man, but as his manners
were rough and he was exceedingly ugly she would have nothing to say to
him, and, what was worse, often made fun of him with the rest.

Jegu, for that was his name, of course heard of this, and it made him
very unhappy. Still he would not leave the farm, and look for work
elsewhere, as he might have done, for then he would never see Barbaik at
all, and what was life worth to him without that?

One evening he was bringing back his horses from the fields, and stopped
at a little lake on the way home to let them drink. He was tired with
a long day'