It was a stormy evening, and it grew
stormier and darker still, as the moment of
his arrival drew near.

"Well, my wife, where is your golden
ball?" said the young man, before saying
so much as good evening, as he shook off
his long dark cloak. She held it out to
him. As he noticed that it had had a
fall, he laughed a fierce laugh, Aha, aha!
"Now, my wife, you may come to see
what is behind the iron door." And
taking hold of her wrists, he dragged
her, notwithstanding all her screams,
towards it, opened it, and threw her into the
smoke, from which flames arose; crying out,
"One more!" He then locked the door,
which was that of the bottomless pit, and
he, the evil spirit, went out, satisfied with
his work; for, besides his wife, he had
caught a great many people that day.

The sisters of the bride were still
unmarried, so this good-looking man went to
the house, in deep mourning, and told the
poor father that his daughter was dead.

"I have been so happy with her,
however," said the rogue, "that I hope you
will allow me, when the time comes, to
choose again out of your family." And
with a deep bow, he took his leave.

The second sister was very glad to marry
the young man, so at the end of the year
of mourning he came to claim her as his
bride. The second sister was as unlucky
with her golden ball as her sister had
been, and so nothing more was heard of
her. At the end of another year the
widower came to claim the hand of the
youngest and prettiest sister.

It was a fine bright day as the pair
started in their comfortable carriage,
followed by the blessings of the thenceforward
lonely father. No presentiments of her
fate alarmed the bride. She chatted gaily,
and when, after two days' journey, the large
castle appeared before her, she praised its
beauty without noticing its forbidding
appearance. Next day the young man left
her, as he had left her two sisters, on a
journey of business, and, taking from his
pocket a new golden ball and the key of
the iron door, he left them, with the usual
warning, in her hands.

The rumbling noise of his departing
carriage had hardly ceased, when the bride
ran to the iron door; but, remembering the
golden ball, she carefully placed it in the
corn-sieve. She then unlocked the door.
Undaunted by the smoke, and by noisome
smells, she looked down into a large hole,
and heard sighs and groans; and amongst
the voices she recognised those of her two
sisters, and of their aunt, who had
disappeared some years before. Not losing
her presence of mind, she called out to
them to take courage, for she had come to
help them; and, running to the well, she
brought away the rope, and, letting it down,
pulled them up, one by one. Having
carefully locked the door, she hurried them
away to one of the towers of the castle.
She still had two days before her, until
the return of her husband, and these she
employed in the following manner. She
arranged that her meals should always be
brought to her in the first room of the
tower, and she had a holy image made and
placed on the wall of the tower. When
her husband came back, he embraced her
very affectionately, and asked her what she
had been about, and how she had taken
care of the golden ball. She took it out of
her dress, and showed it to him. Of course
it was perfectly sound, and he was very
much satisfied.

"You are the only clever woman I have
ever met with," he said, "and that is not
saying little. But what have you done to
the tower?"

"I have only chosen it as my private
apartment, and have had a pretty piece
of sculpture placed in it. Will you come
and see it?" But her husband drew back,
and assured her he much preferred the
other part of the house.

And there they all live to this very day,
the aunt and the sisters, in the tower, which
is never visited by the master of the house.
And the bride never showed that she knew
the terrible nature of her husband's occupation.
She could not have mended matters
by doing so; he would only have thrown
her into that dreadful pit. So she bears
her lot, just like any other sensible woman,
for the sake of quiet.

THE MASON'S WIFE.

A MASON had a deceitful wife, cruel and
avaricious. She also wished to curry
favour with the priests, for then, she
thought, all her sins would be remitted.
In favour of any one of the priesthood
she would relax her stinginess: nay, she
would even become recklessly extravagant.
The mason's gains were fair. He was a
good workman, but his work took him so
much from home that she had it all her
own way, both in the management of the
house, and of an only son. Every week the
husband gave his earnings to his wife, and
every day she gave him a large piece of