you will." Then away rattled the apples down among the boughs; and one of the thieves cried, "Dear me, what's the matter with the birds?"

A little while after, as the door was still very heavy, Catherine whispered to Frederick, "I must throw the vinegar down."

"Pray don't," answered he, "it will betray us."—"Indeed I must," said she. So she poured all the vinegar down; and it fell on the thieves, who said, "What a heavy dew there is!"

At last Catherine said "I have just thought of it, it is the door itself that is so heavy all the time; I must throw it down." But he begged her not to do so, for he was sure it would discover them. "Here it goes, however," said she, and down went the door with such a clatter upon the thieves, that they thought the tree was bewitched, and ran away as fast as they could, and left all the gold on the spot. So in the morning, when Catherine and Frederick came down, there they found all their money again, and went home with it, and made themselves comfortable.

The cheese adventure of the foregoing tale reminds us of one of the merry tales of the "Wise Men of Gotham," which is thus related :

There was a man of Gotham, who went to the market of Nottingham, to sell cheese, and as he was going down the hill to Nottingham bridge, one of his cheeses fell out of his wallet, and run down the hill. "You are a pretty fellow," said the "what! can you run to the market alone? I will now

man;

send one after the other;" then laying down the wallet, and taking out the cheeses, he tumbled them down the hill one after the other, and some ran into one bush, and some into another; so at last he said, "I do charge you to meet me in the market-place." And when the man came into the market to meet the cheeses, he staid until the market was almost done, then went and inquired of his neighbours, and other men, if they did see his cheeses come to market? 66 bring them," said one of his neighbours? selves," said the fellow; "sure, they knew the way to say the truth, I was afraid when I saw my cheeses run so fast, that they would run beyond the market. I am persuaded that they are at this time almost as far as York." So he immediately takes a horse, and rides after them to York, but was very much disappointed he did not find them. And to this day no man has ever heard of the said cheeses.

Why who should "Who, but themwell enough;

The door carrying the vinegar and apples, is matched by the following:

There was a man of Gotham that rode to the market with two bushels of wheat, and because his horse should not be damaged by carrying too great a burthen, he was determined to carry the corn himself upon his own neck, and still kept riding upon his horse till he arrived at the end of his journey. Now I will leave you to judge which was the wisest, his horse or himself?

The foregoing are but a sample of the wise tricks imputed to the far-famed men of Gotham. The common nursery rhyme runs thus :—

"Three men of Gotham went to sea in a bowl,

If the bowl had been stronger, my song had been longer."

On one occasion, a villager happening to be abroad at a late hour on a moon-shiny night, saw the reflection of the moon in the horse-pond, and thought it had fallen in. Believing the moon to be made of green cheese, he went and called all his neighbours to help him to draw it out. The men of Gotham are said to have had but one knife amongst them, which was stuck in a tree in the middle of the village for their common use: many amusing incidents arose out of the disputes for the use of this knife.

THE MAGICIAN OF FINLAND.

JUST on the Finland frontiers there is situated a high mountain, which, on the Swedish side, is covered with beautiful copsewood, and on the other with dark pine-trees, so closely ranked together, and so luxuriant in shade, that one might almost say, the smallest bird could not find his way through the thickets. Below the copsewood there stands a chapel with the image of St. George, as guardian of the land and a defence against the dragons (if there be such), and other monsters of paganism; while, on the other side, on the borders of the dark fir-wood, are certain cottages inhabited by wicked sorcerers,

who have, moreover, a cave cut so deep into the mountain, that it joins with the bottomless abyss, whence come all the demons that assist them. The Swedish Christians, who dwelt in the neighbourhood of this mountain, thought it would be necessary, besides the chapel and statue of St. George, to choose some living protector, and therefore selected an ancient warrior, highly renowned for his prowess in the battle-field, and who had in his old age become a monk. When this man went to take up his abode on the mountains, his only son (for he had formerly lived as a married man in the world) would on no account leave him; but lived there also, assisting his father in his duties as watcher, and in the exercises of prayer and penitence, fully equalling the example that was now afforded him, as he had formerly done by his bravery as a soldier.

The life here led by those two valiant champions is said to have been most admirable and pious. Once on a time it happened, that the young hero went out to cut wood in the forest. He bore a sharp axe on his shoulders, and was besides girded with a great sword; for as the woods were not only full of wild beasts, but also haunted by wicked men, the pious hermits took the precaution of always going armed. While the good youth was forcing his way through the thickest of the copsewood, and already beheld over it the pointed tops of the fir-trees (for he was close on the Finland frontier), there rushed out against him a great white wolf, so that he had just time enough to leap to one side, and not being able immediately to draw his sword, he flung the axe at his assailant. The blow was so well aimed, that it struck one of the wolf's fore-legs, who, being sorely wounded, limped

back, with a yell of anguish, into the wood. The young hermit warrior, however, thought to himself, "It is not enough that I am rescued, but I must take such measures that no one else may in future be injured, or even terrified by this wild beast." So he rushed in as fast as possible among the fir-trees, and inflicted such a vehement blow with his sword on the wolf's head, that the animal, groaning piteously, fell to the ground. Hereupon there came over him all at once a strange mood of regret and compassion for his poor victim. Instead of putting it immediately to death, he bound up the wounds, as well as he could, with moss and twigs of trees, placed it on a sort of canvass sling, on which he was in the habit of carrying great fagots, and with much labour brought it home, in hopes that he might be able at last to cure and tame his fallen adversary. He did not find his father in the cottage, and it was not without some fear and anxiety that he laid the wolf on his own bed, which was made of moss and rushes, and over which he had painted St. George and the dragon. He then turned to the fire-place of the small hut, in order to prepare a healing salve for the wounds; but when thus occupied, how was he surprised to hear the moanings and lamentations of an articulate voice from the bed on which he had just before deposited the wolf! On returning thither, his astonishment was inexpressible on perceiving, instead of the frightful wild beast, a most beautiful damsel, on whose head the wound which he had inflicted was bleeding through her fine golden hair; and whose right arm, in all its grace and snow-white luxuriance, was stretched out motionless, for it had been broken by the blow from his axe! "Pray," said she, "have pity, and do not kill me outright. The little life that I have