Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 6 1888.djvu/216

 208 home. The old woman, who knew beforehand what had occurred, went out to meet her with a fresh pitcher, and asked her servant for appearance sake what had happened to her. The servant related all as it had occurred. "Well, that's nothing," said the old woman; "but do you know what? Go you once more to the lake, and ask the lady to let down the silken cord and draw you up, promising to comb and dress her hair. If she draws you up, you will comb her hair, and when she falls asleep stick this pin into her head. Then dress yourself in her clothes, and sit there as queen."

It was not necessary to use much persuasion to the gipsy. She took the pin, took the pitcher, and returned to the lake. She drew water, and looked at the beautiful queen. "Dear me, and how beautiful you are! Ah! you are beautiful!" she screamed, and looked with coaxing gestures into her eyes. "Yes," said she; "but you would be a hundred times more beautiful if you would let me comb and dress your hair. In truth, I would so twine those golden locks that your lord could not help being delighted." And thus she jibbered and she coaxed till the queen let down the silken cord and drew her up.

The nasty gipsy combed, separated, and plaited the golden hair, till the beautiful queen fell nicely asleep. Then the gipsy drew out the pin, and stuck it into the sleeping queen's head. At that moment a beautiful white dove flew off the golden throne, and not a vestige remained of the lovely queen, save her handsome clothes, in which the gipsy speedily dressed herself, took her seat in the place where the queen sat before, and gazed into the lake; but the beautiful reflection displayed itself no more in the lake, for even in the queen's clothes the gipsy nevertheless remained a gipsy.

The young king was successful in overcoming his enemies, and made peace with them. Scarcely had he returned to the town, when he went to the garden to seek his delight, and to see whether anything had happened to her. But who shall express his astonishment and horror when, instead of his beautiful queen, he beheld a sorry gipsy. "Ah I my dear, my dear one, how you have altered!" sighed he; and tears bedewed his cheeks. "I have altered, my beloved! I have altered; for anxiety for you has tortured me," answered the gipsy, and wanted to fall upon his neck, but the king turned away from