he young Man who would have his Eyes opened
The Boys with the Golden Stars
The Frog
The Princess who was hidden Underground
The Girl who pretended to be a Boy
The Story of Halfman
The Prince who wanted to see the World
Virgililus the Sorcerer
Mogarzea and his Son
A TALE OF THE TONTLAWALD
Long, long ago there stood in the midst of a country covered with lakes
a vast stretch of moorland called the Tontlawald, on which no man ever
dared set foot. From time to time a few bold spirits had been drawn by
curiosity to its borders, and on their return had reported that they had
caught a glimpse of a ruined house in a grove of thick trees, and round
about it were a crowd of beings resembling men, swarming over the grass
like bees. The men were as dirty and ragged as gipsies, and there were
besides a quantity of old women and half-naked children.
One night a peasant who was returning home from a feast wandered a
little farther into the Tontlawald, and came back with the same story. A
countless number of women and children were gathered round a huge fire,
and some were seated on the ground, while others danced strange dances
on the smooth grass. One old crone had a broad iron ladle in her hand,
with which every now and then she stirred the fire, but the moment she
touched the glowing ashes the children rushed away, shrieking like night
owls, and it was a long while before they ventured to steal back. And
besides all this there had once or twice been seen a little old man with
a long beard creeping out of the forest, carrying a sack bigger than
himself. The women and children ran by his side, weeping and trying to
drag the sack from off his back, but he shook them off, and went on
his way. There was also a tale of a magnificent black cat as large as a
foal, but men could not believe all the wonders told by the peasant,
and it was difficult to make out what was true and what was false in his
story. However, the fact remained that strange things did happen there,
and the King of Sweden, to whom this part of the country belonged, more
than once gave orders to cut down the haunted wood, but there was no one
with courage enough to obey his commands. At length one man, bolder than
the rest, struck his axe into a tree, but his blow was followed by
a stream of blood and shrieks as of a human creature in pain. The
terrified woodcutter fled as fast as his legs would carry him, and after
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