n to me, then,' said the old man. 'This evening you must take your
child, and open her veins, and smear the wounds of your friend with her
blood. And you will see, he will get well in an instant.'

At these words the king's son shrieked with horror, for he loved the
baby dearly, but he answered, 'I have sworn that I would treat my friend
as if he were my brother, and if there is no other way my child must be
sacrificed.'

As by this time evening had already fallen he took the child and opened
its veins, and smeared the blood over the wounds of the sick man, and
the look of death departed from him, and he grew strong and rosy once
more. But the little child lay as white and still as if she had been
dead. They laid her in the cradle and wept bitterly, for they thought
that by the next morning she would be lost to them.

At sunrise the old man returned and asked after the sick man.

'He is as well as ever,' answered the king's son.

'And where is your baby?'

'In the cradle yonder, and I think she is dead,' replied the father
sadly.

'Look at her once more,' said the holy man, and as they drew near the
cradle there lay the baby smiling up at them.

'I am St. James of Lizia,' said the old man, 'and I have come to help
you, for I have seen that you are a true friend. From henceforward live
happily, all of you, together, and if troubles should draw near you send
for me, and I will aid you to get through them.'

With these words he lifted his hand in blessing and vanished.

And they obeyed him, and were happy and content, and tried to make the
people of the land happy and contented too.

[From Sicilianische Mahrehen Gonzenbach.]

Clever Maria

There was once a merchant who lived close to the royal palace, and had
three daughters. They were all pretty, but Maria, the youngest, was the
prettiest of the three. One day the king sent for the merchant, who was
a widower, to give him directions about a journey he wished the good
man to take. The merchant would rather not have gone, as he did not
like leaving his daughters at home, but he could not refuse to obey the
king's commands, and with a heavy heart he returned home to say farewell
to them. Before he left, he took three pots of basil, and gave one to
each girl, saying, 'I am going a journey, but I leave these pots. You
must let nobody into the house. When I come back, they will tell me what
has happened.' 'Nothing will have happened,' said the girls.

The