of that he could not come the length of the night, and out of that he did not come till the morrow’s day was bright. He went, under shame and disgrace. No matter, he did not tell the other chap how it had happened, and on the third night he came. As it happened to the two others, so it happened to him. One foot stuck to the floor; he could neither come nor go, but so he was the length of the night. On the morrow, he took his soles out of that, and he was not seen looking behind him. “Now,” said the girl to the shoemaker, “thine is the sporran of gold; I have no need of it. It will better thee, and I am no worse for thy kindness to me.” The shoemaker had the shoes ready, and on that very day the king’s son was to be married. The shoemaker was going to the castle with the shoes of the young people, and the girl said to the shoemaker: “I would like to get a sight of the king’s son before he marries.” “Come with me,” says the shoemaker. “I am well acquainted with the servants of the castle, and thou shalt get a sight of the king’s son and all the company.” And when the gentles saw the pretty woman that was here they took her to the wedding room, and they filled for her a glass of wine. When she was going to drink what was in it, a flame went up out of the glass, and a golden pigeon and a silver pigeon sprang out of it. They were flying about when three grains of barley fell on the floor. The silver pigeon sprang, and he eats that. Said the golden pigeon to him: “If thou hadst mind when I cleared the byre, thou wouldst not eat that without giving me a share.” Again fell three other grains of barley, and the silver pigeon sprang, and he eats that, as before. “If thou hadst mind when I thatched the byre, thou wouldst not eat that without giving me my share,” says the golden pigeon. Three other grains fall, and the silver pigeon sprang, and he eats that. “If thou hadst mind when I harried the magpie’s nest, thou wouldst not eat that without giving me my share,” says the golden pigeon; “I lost my
