he held out the magic herbs which he
carried, but the baptized stone was no longer subject to the spells that
bound the rest, and passed straight on its way, leaving the wizard
crushed into powder in the heather.

Then Bernez went home, and showed his wealth to Marzinne, who this time
did not refuse him as a brother-in-law, and he and Rozennik were
married, and lived happy for ever after.

From 'Le Foyer Breton,' par Emile Souvestre.

_THE CASTLE OF KERGLAS_

PERONNIK was a poor idiot who belonged to nobody, and he would have died
of starvation if it had not been for the kindness of the village people,
who gave him food whenever he chose to ask for it. And as for a bed,
when night came, and he grew sleepy, he looked about for a heap of
straw, and making a hole in it, crept in, like a lizard. Idiot though he
was, he was never unhappy, but always thanked gratefully those who fed
him, and sometimes would stop for a little and sing to them. For he
could imitate a lark so well, that no one knew which was Peronnik and
which was the bird.

He had been wandering in a forest one day for several hours, and when
evening approached, he suddenly felt very hungry. Luckily, just at that
place the trees grew thinner, and he could see a small farmhouse a
little way off. Peronnik went straight towards it, and found the
farmer's wife standing at the door holding in her hands the large bowl
out of which her children had eaten their supper.

'I am hungry, will you give me something to eat?' asked the boy.

'If you can find anything here, you are welcome to it,' answered she,
and, indeed, there was not much left, as everybody's spoon had dipped
in. But Peronnik ate what was there with a hearty appetite, and thought
that he had never tasted better food.

'It is made of the finest flour and mixed with the richest milk and
stirred by the best cook in all the countryside,' and though he said it
to himself, the woman heard him.

'Poor innocent,' she murmured, 'he does not know what he is saying, but
I will cut him a slice of that new wheaten loaf,' and so she did, and
Peronnik ate up every crumb, and declared that nobody less than the
bishop's baker could have baked it. This flattered the farmer's wife so
much that she gave him some butter to spread on it, and Peronnik was
still eating it on the doorstep when an armed knight rode up.

'Can you tell me the way to the castle of Kerglas?' asked he.

'To Kerglas? are you _