down and sank into a deep sleep, during which
he saw again the child of his dream, who said,
in a stern voice : " Why didst thou commence
thy labour without crossing thyself as a pious
Christian? Had I not been by, a grievous ill
would have befallen thee. Therefore, now, when
thou ariseth, cross thyself as is meet, and
resume thy work in a good spirit."

Strange to say, when the man awoke, he found
himself not on the spot where sleep had
overtaken him, but in a sunny garden, full of the most
beautiful flowers. Nevertheless, he resumed his
digging, having first crossed himself, in compliance
with the child's command. While he was
shovelling up the earth, a light as of sunbeams
flashed into his eyes, and he perceived a dragon
asleep on the vessel that contained the treasure.
Thrice did he entreat the monster to depart,
but the dragon, waking at the third summons,
flatly refused to stir. " The treasure," quoth
he, "is neither thine nor mine; but if thou wilt
tell me how many streams spring from this rock,
I will leave the place, and thou mayest then do
as thou wilt."

The required enumeration proved no easy
job, and the man, after going from spring to
spring, became so weary and perplexed, that he
leant against a tall tree, out of pure exhaustion.
While he was thus reposing, he heard a rustling
overhead, and, looking upwards, saw a Wili
and a Wilinik engaged in hot debate. The
Wilinik wanted to know something, which the
Wili, who was manifestly uneasy, was loth to
communicate, and at last the latter cried out:
"As sure as there are seventy and seven springs
in this mountain, I know nothing about it."
So saying, the Wili flew away, but the Wilinik
perceiving the man, told him he might now
take the treasure without impediment; which,
noticing that the dragon had fled, the man did.

The Wilis once manifested a remarkable
creative talent. On a broiling summer's day
they fashioned a young damsel out of some snow
which they found at the bottom of a bottomless
pit, and no sooner was their work accomplished
than the figure was animated by the wind,
nurtured by the dew, clothed with leaves by the
wood, and decked with the choicest flowers by
the meadow.

This wonderful girl, who will remind some
readers of the antique Atalanta, issued a
proclamation declaring that she would become
the bride of the first youth who could catch her
in a horse-race. The first gentlemen in the
world, including the emperor's son, eagerly
responded to the summons; and when they
were all on the race-course, ready to start, the
damsel took her place in the midst of them, not
on horseback, but standing on her feet, and thus
spoke: " Yonder, against the winning-post, I
have set up a golden apple. The first who takes
it shall be my husband, but if I reach it before
any of you, a sudden death will at once come
upon you all. Think, therefore, what you are
about."

The aspirants did think, and they thought
it very unlikely that a girl on foot would prove
an overmatch for men on horseback, for they
were not aware that the snow-maiden had little
wings under her shoulders. But they soon found
that their thoughts had been too hasty, for
when they were about half way on the course,
they saw their fair antagonist gaining ahead.
Still they did not lose courage, but, clapping
spurs to their steeds, overtook the girl, who at
once pulled a hair from her head and flung it to
the ground. A forest immediately sprang up,
in which the riders were lost, but by dint of
perseverance they overcame even that difficulty,
and making their way through the trees, were
again on the track of the nimble maiden, who
shed a tear, which immediately expanded into a
foaming torrent, and drowned the whole party,
with the single exception of the emperor's son,
whose horse swam upon the water. Perceiving
that the snow-maiden was again far ahead, he
thrice implored her, in the name of the Deity, to
proceed no further. She stood still accordingly,
and placing her on his horse, he swam with her
to dry land, and proceeded with her homeward
through a mountainous district. When, however
he had reached the highest summit, she
was gone.

An ambitious youth once made the singular
vow that he would wed no one but a maiden of
imperial race, and as, with all his visionary
propensities, he was of a thoroughly practical
disposition, he went boldly up to the emperor and
asked the hand of his daughter in marriage.
Now, the emperor, as it happened, was of a
somewhat timid temperament, and though an
emphatic "No" was on the tip of his tongue, he
preferred to utter his refusal in a more
circumlocutionary manner. He therefore said:

"I shall only be too happy to give you my
daughter, if—if—"

"Yes?" asked the youth.

"If in the course of, say, a week, you will
procure me,—-first, a white horse without speck
that has never known bridle."

"Secondly?" inquired the youth.

"Secondly, a sorrel horse with a black head
that has never been mounted. Thirdly, a black
horse with a white head and white feet that has
never been shod.""

"Well," said the youth, "horses are to be
got, though a week is rather a short time."

"Stop, I have not finished," proceeded the
emperor. " Besides the three horses, you must
bring as much, gold as they all three can carry,
as a present to my empress. On these
conditions, and no other, I grant you my daughter's
hand."

The youth, having thanked the emperor much,
more heartily than he deserved, took his leave
in no very cheerful mood; but fortunately the
imperial maiden had overheard all the conversation
and had, moreover, seen the petitioner,
who appeared to her the handsomest man in
the world. Therefore he was soon comforted
by a letter, which the young lady sent him by
the hands of a confidential servant, and which