THE BAKER’S THREE DAUGHTERS

OR,

THE DANCING WATER, THE SINGING APPLE, AND THE BIRD OF TRUTH

THERE was once an old baker who was a widower with three daughters. One evening after supper they sat before the fire talking about their loves. “Whom do you love, oldest sister?” asked the youngest.

“The king’s gardener,” she replied.

“And you?” she asked of the second sister.

“The king’s waiting-man.”

“Very well; as for me, I love the king’s son.”

“The king’s son! you are joking!” cried the other two.

“Certainly not, and I tell you, moreover, that we shall have three children, the king’s son and I, two boys, each with a gold star on his forehead, and a daughter with a silver star.”

The father, who had gone to bed, and who overheard the conversation of his daughters, said to them then,—

“What sort of talk is this? You must be crazy! go to bed at once.”

So the three girls went to bed.

The king’s son was taking a walk that evening through the village, accompanied by his waiting-man and his gardener. A shower came up, and they went under the baker’s shed for shelter and overheard the conversation of the three girls. The prince took down the name of the baker, which was on his sign, and the next morning he sent to ask the oldest daughter to come to the palace to speak to him.

“Do you remember,” said he to her, “what you said yesterday evening, beside your fire, in your father’s house?” The young girl was very much surprised and frightened. “Do not be afraid, my girl,” said he, “speak boldly, for I have heard all; do you remember what you said?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“And you would be willing to marry my gardener?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Very well; go home and tell your second sister to come and talk with me.”

When the latter came to the palace, the prince asked of her, as he had done of her elder sister,—

“Do you remember what you said yesterday evening, beside your fire in your father’s house?”

“Yes, sire, certainly,” she replied.

“And you would be willing to take my waiting-man for your husband?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Very well; go home and tell your youngest sister to come also and talk with me.”

The latter came also in her turn, and the prince asked of her, as of the other two, “Do you remember what you said yesterday evening, by the fireside, in your father’s house?”

“I remember, sire,” she replied.

“And you would be willing to marry me?”

“Yes, with all my heart.”

“And you would have three children, as you said, two boys, each with a gold star on his forehead, and a daughter with a silver star?”

“Yes, as truly as I have said it, sire.”

“Very well; then you shall be my wife. Now go home and tell your father to come and talk with me.”

The young girl went home, very happy, and told her father to go to the palace and talk with the king’s son.

“Why?” asked the old man; “I told you so; your foolish talk has come to the prince’s ears, and now he has doubtless sent for me to punish me.”

“No, no, my father; go and fear nothing,” said his daughter.

The old baker went to the palace, sad and sighing, as if he were going to his death. But when he heard the son of the king ask his three daughters in marriage, one for his gardener, one for his waiting-man, and the third for himself, he was as joyful and happy as before he had been anxious and afraid.

The three weddings were celebrated at once, and for a whole month there were feasts every day, dances, and all sorts of amusements.

The gardener and the waiting-man went to live in the city with their wives, and the young prince remained with his, in his father’s palace. The other two were jealous of the youngest sister because she was a princess, and they tried every day to find some means to destroy her. At last they consulted an old fairy. She told them that when the princess’ baby was born they must bribe the old nurse to put a little dog in the cradle instead of the baby and send the baby out on the river. Then they recommended a nurse to their sister, who, they said, was the best in the kingdom. The princess asked to see her and welcomed her kindly. The baby that was born was a magnificent child, with a gold star in the middle of his forehead. The nurse gave the poor little creature to a man who was waiting at the door, to take it and leave it on the shore of the Seine, which they tell me flows by Paris. Then she put in his place in the cradle, a little dog that she had brought with her. When the prince asked to see his child they showed him the little dog.

“Ah! ah! what is this that you are showing me?” he cried.

“Alas! my prince,” replied the perfidious nurse, “God does all as it pleases Him!”

“Ah! misery for me! But it is useless to complain, since it is the will of God. Take care always of this poor creature.”

The husband of the baker’s oldest daughter, the king’s gardener, had a beautiful garden on the shore of the river, and as he was walking in it one day, he saw a basket which was floating on the water. He jumped into his boat, caught the basket, and was very much astonished to find in it a beautiful child with a gold star in the middle of his forehead. “God be praised,” said he, “who sends me such a lovely child, for I have none of my own.” And he carried it to his wife, who received it with great joy, and took as much pleasure in caring for it as if it had been her own child.

A year after, a second son was born to the princess, having also a gold star in his forehead like the first. The perfidious nurse substituted a little dog for him also, and the poor baby was put out on the water in a basket as his brother had been.

The king (the prince had become king, his father having died) asked to see the new-born son.

“Alas! another dog!” cried he, as soon as he saw it, and he turned away his head and wept. “But since it is the will of God,” he added, “what God does is well done.”

The gardener, who was fishing with hook and line in his garden, saw a basket floating down the river. He caught it and hastened to carry to his wife the beautiful child he found in it. The latter received it joyfully, saying,—

“How delightful! Now we each have one, my husband and I!”

They chose a godfather and godmother, and the child was baptized.

A third child was born to the princess, and this time it was a little girl, with a silver star in the middle of her forehead. The perfidious nurse put a little dog in her place, too, and the poor thing was exposed as her brothers had been. This time the king began to swear and storm like one beside himself, when they showed him another little dog.

“They will call me,” said he, “the father of dogs! and not without reason. But all this does not come from God; there is some mystery at the bottom of it.” And he had the queen shut up in a tower, with only bread and water for food, and a little book to read.

The gardener found another child floating on the water, and picked it up and carried it home, as he had done the others.

“Enough children like that,” said his wife, seeing him come in with the basket. “How is it that you find so many children?”

“Very well, wife, do not worry; be quiet. I will carry the child back where I found it on the water; but it is a great pity; such a pretty little girl!”

“It is a girl, do you say? Show her to me. Oh! the pretty little angel, with a silver star in the middle of her forehead. We will keep her, husband; we have sufficient means, and since God has given us no children of our own, we will take these instead.”

Meanwhile the poor queen was in her tower, weeping and moaning night and day, and no one came to see her. Her two sisters were happy with their husbands.

By and by the gardener and his wife died. The king had their three children brought to his palace, and as they were handsome children, and well brought up, they pleased him very much. Every Sunday they were seen in his pew at church,—at high mass,—having each a bandage round his forehead to hide his star. Every one was astonished to see these bandages, and asked, “What does it mean?”

One day, when the king was out hunting, an old woman came to the kitchen of the palace, and said, “Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! how cold I am!” And she trembled and her teeth chattered.

“Come near the fire, grandmother,” said the young girl with the silver star, who happened to be there.

“Blessings on you, my child. Ah! how beautiful you are! Ah! if you had the dancing water, the singing apple, and the bird of truth, you would not have your equal on the earth!”

“Yes, grandmother; but how can I get these marvelous things?”

“You have two brothers here who can get them for you.”

Then she went away without saying anything more.

From that moment the young girl could think of nothing but the words of the old woman; she dreamed only of the dancing water, the singing apple, and the bird of truth, and she was very sad.

“Why are you so sad?” asked her brothers.

“There is nothing the matter,” she replied.

“Yes, there is something the matter, and you must tell us what it is.”

“An old woman came to warm herself in the kitchen, and she said to me, ‘My child, if you had the dancing water, the singing apple, and the bird of truth, you would not have your equal on the earth!’ And since then I am always dreaming of the dancing water, the singing apple, and the bird of truth. But how can I ever procure such marvelous things?”

“My little sister, I will find them for you if they are anywhere on this earth,” said the elder brother.

“How can you do it, my poor brother?”

“Leave it to me, and do not be worried. See! here is a dagger, which I give you; draw it from the scabbard several times a day for a whole year and a day; as long as you can draw it out, no harm will have happened to me; but when you cannot pull it out, alas! I shall be dead!”

Then he bade farewell to his sister and brother, and departed.

His sister often drew the dagger-blade from the scabbard, and it came out easily. But alas! one day she could not draw it out, although she tried her best. Then she began to cry.

“What is the matter, my dear little sister?” said her younger brother.

“Alas! poor brother, our older brother is dead!” And they both began to cry.

“I must go and look for him.”

“Oh, no! do not go, my brother; stay here with me.”

“No, I must go, and I never will stop walking till I have found my brother. Here! I give you this necklace; slip the beads around constantly; when you come to one that will not move, then I also shall be dead.” Then he said good-by to his sister and went away.

She, left all alone, was very sad and full of care. She constantly slipped the beads on her necklace around and she saw with pleasure that they moved easily. But alas! one day there was one that would not move.

“My God!” she cried, “my second brother is dead, also! What shall I do now? I must go and seek for them, and I will never stop traveling until I have found them, dead or alive.”

She bought a horse, dressed herself as a cavalier, and set out, without saying anything to any one. She continued to go on and on till she reached a great plain.

There she saw in an old hollow tree a little old man with a long white beard.

“Good morning, daughter of the king of France!” said the little old man with the white beard.

“Good morning, grandfather; but you surely take me for some one else, for I am not the daughter of the king of France.”

“No, no, I am not mistaken, for I know you well.”

“But, grandfather, is not that long beard very much in your way?”

“It is, indeed, my child; I have worn it for five hundred years, and it has been very much in my way, I assure you.”

“If you wish it, I will cut it off.”

“Oh, yes, do!”

She took her scissors out of her pocket and cut off the old man’s beard.

“My blessing on you, daughter of the king of France,” said he, “for you have delivered me! A great many people have passed by here, during these five hundred years, and no one has had pity on me but you, and you shall never have reason to regret it. I know where you are going; you are going to look for your two brothers. Listen to me well, and do exactly what I tell you. Sixty miles from here you will find an inn by the roadside. Alight there, eat, drink, and then leave your horse there and say you will pay when you return. Soon after you leave this house, you will come to a high mountain. You will have much difficulty in climbing this mountain, and it will even be necessary sometimes to get down on your hands and feet. A tremendous wind will soon rise; hail, snow, ice, and a bitter cold will assail you; but take care and do not lose courage, and continue to climb up as before. On each side of the way you will see a great number of stone pillars. These are so many persons, who, like you, have attempted to climb this mountain, but have lost courage, and have been changed into pillars of stone. When you reach the top, you will see a plain with a turf dotted with flowers, as if in the month of May. Then you will see a golden seat under an apple-tree. Sit down on this seat and pretend to be asleep, and you will see a blackbird hop down the apple-tree from branch to branch, and go into a cage which is under the tree. Then shut the cage quickly, for it is the Bird of Truth. Then cut a branch of the apple-tree with an apple on it; that will be the Singing Apple. And finally, draw a phial full of water from the fountain under the tree, for that is the fountain of the Dancing Water. Then you can come away. As you descend the mountain, drop a drop of water from your phial on each pillar of stone, and out of each pillar will rise a knight. Your two brothers will rise also, like the others.”

The young girl thanked the little old man and continued her journey. She did just exactly what she had been told. She ate and drank at the inn, left her horse there, and began to climb the mountain. But the cold became so intense that her limbs were almost frozen, and she came near stopping and being changed to stone like the others. However, at last she reached the top of the mountain. There the sky was clear, and the air mild, as in the middle of summer. She seated herself on the golden seat, under the apple-tree, and pretended to be asleep. The blackbird hopped down the tree, from branch to branch, and went into the cage. Then she got up at once and shut the cage; and the blackbird, seeing himself caught, said,—

“You have caught me, daughter of the king of France! Many others, before you, have tried to catch me, but none have succeeded. But you have been guided by some one.”

Then she cut a branch of the apple-tree with an apple on it, filled her phial with water from the fountain, and departed. As she went down the mountain, she dropped a drop of water on each pillar of stone, and out of them came princes, dukes, barons, and knights; her two brothers arose also, the last two; but they did not recognize their sister; and all crowded around her, some saying, “Give me the Dancing Water, young knight”; and others,—“Give me the Singing Apple”; and others,—“Give me the Bird of Truth.”

But she went quickly away, taking with her the water, the apple, and the bird. As she passed the inn where she had left her horse, she paid her reckoning, then turned quickly homeward and arrived there a long time before her brothers. When the latter arrived, they embraced their sister.

“Ah! my poor brothers,” said she to them, “how anxious I have been about you. How long your journey has been! But God be praised, since I have you back again!”

“Alas! yes, my poor sister, we were gone a long time, and we have done no good by it; it is only by chance that we returned at all.”

“Why, have you not brought me the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth?”

“Alas! no, poor sister; a young knight whom we did not know took them away. Ah! what a handsome knight! We wish you could have seen him.”

The old king, who had no children (as he thought) loved his sister-in-law’s children, and was glad to see them back again. He ordered a great feast, to which he invited many people, princes, dukes, marquises, barons, and generals. When the supper was nearly over the young girl placed on the table the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth, and told each of them to do his duty. And immediately the water began to dance, the apple to sing, and the bird to fly over the table. And all the people, in ecstacy, mouths and eyes open, looked and listened at these wonders. They had never seen nor heard anything like it.

“Whose are these wonderful things?” asked the king, when he could speak.

“Mine, sire,” said the young girl.

“And what are they?”

“The Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth.”

“And from whom did you get them?”

“I went, myself, to seek for them.”

Then the two brothers knew that it was their sister who had delivered them. As for the king, he was almost beside himself with joy and admiration.

“My crown and my kingdom,” he said, “for your wonderful things; and you—you shall be queen.”

“Wait a moment, sire, till you have heard my bird speak; the Bird of Truth, for he has important matters to reveal to you. Now, my little bird, tell the truth.”

“I will indeed,” said the bird, “but let no one go out of the room.”

So they shut the doors. The wicked old nurse, and one of the king’s sisters-in-law were there, and they were not at all comfortable when they heard these words.

“Come, my bird, tell the truth now.” And this is what the bird said,—

“It is twenty years now, sire, since your wife was shut up in the tower, abandoned by every one, and you have long believed her to be dead. But she is not dead; no harm has happened to her, for she was unjustly accused and cast into a dreary prison.”

Just here the nurse and the king’s sisters-in-law said they felt sick and wanted to go out.

“No one shall go out yet,” said the king; “go on telling the truth, little bird.”

“You have had two sons and a daughter, sire,” continued the bird, “all three children of your wife, and here they are! Take off their bandages, and you will see that each has a star in his forehead.”

The bandages were taken off, and they saw that each of the two young men had a gold star on his forehead and the young girl had a silver star.

“The authors of all this wickedness,” continued the bird, “are your two sisters-in-law and the nurse, that sorceress of the devil. They made you believe that your wife gave birth to dogs, and your poor children were sent, as soon as they were born, to float on the waters of the Seine. When the nurse learned that the children had been saved, and were being brought up in your palace, she sought for other means of destroying them. She went into the palace, one day, disguised as a beggar, ready to die of cold and hunger, and inspired the princess with a desire to possess the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth. Her two brothers went, one after the other, to seek them for her, and the sorceress knew very well that they would never return. And they never would have returned, alas! if their sister had not succeeded, after much trouble, in delivering them, and bringing away the Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth.”

The king fainted on hearing all this. When he came to himself, he went himself to seek his queen in the tower, and returned to the festive hall, leading her by the hand. She had not changed at all; she was beautiful and gracious as ever. She ate and drank a little, then died suddenly in her chair. The king, wild with grief and anger, ordered that a furnace should be heated immediately and his sisters-in-law and the old nurse thrown into it. It was done.

I do not know anything more of the princess and her two brothers. I think they were all happily married. And as for the bird, it is not told whether he continued always to tell the truth, but I presume that he did, as he was not a man.

Told by Barbe Tassel, written down and translated into French by F. M. Luzel. Plouaret, December, 1858.