Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales. Fillmore Parker

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СКАЧАТЬ boy,” the old man said just before he died, “I have nothing to leave you but the three snares with which these many years I have caught wild animals. Those snares now belong to you. When I am dead, go into the woods and if you find a wild creature caught in any of them, free it gently and bring it home alive.”

      After his father’s death, Mikko remembered the snares and went out to the woods to see them. The first was empty and also the second, but in the third he found a little red Fox. He carefully lifted the spring that had shut down on one of the Fox’s feet and then carried the little creature home in his arms. He shared his supper with it and when he lay down to sleep the Fox curled up at his feet. They lived together some time until they became close friends.

      “Mikko,” said the Fox one day, “why are you so sad?”

      “Because I’m lonely.”

      “Pooh!” said the Fox. “That’s no way for a young man to talk! You ought to get married! Then you wouldn’t feel lonely!”

      “Married!” Mikko repeated. “How can I get married? I can’t marry a poor girl because I’m too poor myself and a rich girl wouldn’t marry me.”

      “Nonsense!” said the Fox. “You’re a fine well set up young man and you’re kind and gentle. What more could a princess ask?”

      Mikko laughed to think of a princess wanting him for a husband.

      “I mean what I say!” the Fox insisted. “Take our own Princess now. What would you think of marrying her?”

      Mikko laughed louder than before.

      “I have heard,” he said, “that she is the most beautiful princess in the world! Any man would be happy to marry her!”

      “Very well,” the Fox said, “if you feel that way about her then I’ll arrange the wedding for you.”

      With that the little Fox actually did trot off to the royal castle and gain audience with the King.

      “My master sends you greetings,” the Fox said, “and he begs you to loan him your bushel measure.”

      “My bushel measure!” the King repeated in surprise. “Who is your master and why does he want my bushel measure?”

      “Ssh!” the Fox whispered as though he didn’t want the courtiers to hear what he was saying. Then slipping up quite close to the King he murmured in his ear:

      “Surely you have heard of Mikko, haven’t you? – Mighty Mikko as he’s called.”

      The King had never heard of any Mikko who was known as Mighty Mikko but, thinking that perhaps he should have heard of him, he shook his head and murmured:

      “H’m! Mikko! Mighty Mikko! Oh, to be sure! Yes, yes, of course!”

      “My master is about to start off on a journey and he needs a bushel measure for a very particular reason.”

      “I understand! I understand!” the King said, although he didn’t understand at all, and he gave orders that the bushel measure which they used in the storeroom of the castle be brought in and given to the Fox.

      The Fox carried off the measure and hid it in the woods. Then he scurried about to all sorts of little out of the way nooks and crannies where people had hidden their savings and he dug up a gold piece here and a silver piece there until he had a handful. Then he went back to the woods and stuck the various coins in the cracks of the measure. The next day he returned to the King.

      “My master, Mighty Mikko,” he said, “sends you thanks, O King, for the use of your bushel measure.”

      The King held out his hand and when the Fox gave him the measure he peeped inside to see if by chance it contained any trace of what had recently been measured. His eye of course at once caught the glint of the gold and silver coins lodged in the cracks.

      “Ah!” he said, thinking Mikko must be a very mighty lord indeed to be so careless of his wealth; “I should like to meet your master. Won’t you and he come and visit me?”

      This was what the Fox wanted the King to say but he pretended to hesitate.

      “I thank your Majesty for the kind invitation,” he said, “but I fear my master can’t accept it just now. He wants to get married soon and we are about to start off on a long journey to inspect a number of foreign princesses.”

      This made the King all the more anxious to have Mikko visit him at once for he thought that if Mikko should see his daughter before he saw those foreign princesses he might fall in love with her and marry her. So he said to the Fox:

      “My dear fellow, you must prevail on your master to make me a visit before he starts out on his travels! You will, won’t you?”

      The Fox looked this way and that as if he were too embarrassed to speak.

      “Your Majesty,” he said at last, “I pray you pardon my frankness. The truth is you are not rich enough to entertain my master and your castle isn’t big enough to house the immense retinue that always attends him.”

      The King, who by this time was frantic to see Mikko, lost his head completely.

      “My dear Fox,” he said, “I’ll give you anything in the world if you prevail upon your master to visit me at once! Couldn’t you suggest to him to travel with a modest retinue this time?”

      The Fox shook his head.

      “No. His rule is either to travel with a great retinue or to go on foot disguised as a poor woodsman attended only by me.”

      “Couldn’t you prevail on him to come to me disguised as a poor woodsman?” the King begged. “Once he was here, I could place gorgeous clothes at his disposal.”

      But still the Fox shook his head.

      “I fear Your Majesty’s wardrobe doesn’t contain the kind of clothes my master is accustomed to.”

      “I assure you I’ve got some very good clothes,” the King said. “Come along this minute and we’ll go through them and I’m sure you’ll find some that your master would wear.”

      So they went to a room which was like a big wardrobe with hundreds and hundreds of hooks upon which were hung hundreds of coats and breeches and embroidered shirts. The King ordered his attendants to bring the costumes down one by one and place them before the Fox.

      They began with the plainer clothes.

      “Good enough for most people,” the Fox said, “but not for my master.”

      Then they took down garments of a finer grade.

      “I’m afraid you’re going to all this trouble for nothing,” the Fox said. “Frankly now, don’t you realize that my master couldn’t possibly put on any of these things!”

      The King, who had hoped to keep for his own use his most gorgeous clothes of all, now ordered these to be shown.

      The Fox looked at them sideways, sniffed them critically, and at last said:

      “Well, perhaps my master would consent to wear these for a few days. They are not what he СКАЧАТЬ