vil witch enchanted the king's daughter, who lay dead all day
long, but at night got up and ate people." So she was shut up in a
coffin and placed in a church, and her hand, with half the kingdom as
her dowry, was offered to any one who could disenchant her. The
merchant, in accordance with his old manager's instructions, undertook
the task, and after a series of adventures succeeded in accomplishing
it. The last words of one of the narrators of the story are, "Now this
old one was no mere man. He was Nicholas himself, the saint of
God."[453]

With one more legend about this favorite saint, I will conclude this
section of the present chapter. In some of its incidents it closely
resembles the story of "The Smith and the Demon," which was quoted in
the first chapter.

THE PRIEST WITH THE GREEDY EYES.[454]

In the parish of St. Nicholas there lived a Pope. This
Pope's eyes were thoroughly pope-like.[455] He served Nicholas
several years, and went on serving until such time as there
remained to him nothing either for board or lodging. Then our
Pope collected all the church keys, looked at the picture of
Nicholas, thumped him, out of spite, over the shoulders with
the keys, and went forth from his parish as his eyes led him.
And as he walked along the road he suddenly lighted upon an
unknown man.

"Hail, good man!" said the stranger to the Pope. "Whence
do you come and whither are you going? Take me with you
as a companion."

Well, they went on together. They walked and walked for
several versts, then they grew tired. It was time to seek repose.
Now the Pope had a few biscuits in his cassock, and the companion
he had picked up had a couple of small loaves.[456]

"Let's eat your loaves first," says the Pope, "and afterwards
we'll take to the biscuits, too."

"Agreed!" replies the stranger. "We'll eat my loaves,
and keep your biscuits for afterwards."

Well, they ate away at the loaves; each of them ate his fill,
but the loaves got no smaller. The Pope grew envious:
"Come," thinks he, "I'll steal them from him!" After the
meal the old man lay down to take a nap, but the Pope kept
scheming how to steal the loaves from him. The old man went
to sleep. The Pope drew the loaves out of his pocket and
began quietly nibbling them at his seat. The old man awoke
and felt for his loaves; they were gone!

"Where are my loaves?" he exclaimed; "who has eaten
them