“Now, each of these suitors was the ruler of one of the provinces of the kingdom, and each had been attracted thither by the fame of the princess's beauty. In the old time the kingdom had belonged to a race of giants, and the provinces were departments, bounded by no territorial limits, and the tenure upon which they were held was the right of the strongest.
“In the mining district, the ancient ruler had been the mightiest smith.
“In the forest he had swung the largest axe.
“And so, through all the provinces of that kingdom, each ruler had been the master of his own craft. But the ancient heroes, thinking the posterity of the strong are the strong, and that no state is safe unless maintained by the same power which won it, had left a challenge, each, on his castle gate, which was open to all who should come in after times; and whoever should accept it might contest with its occupant the possession of the castle and its domains. In former times this challenge had been no empty form; but for many years no one had appeared to accept it, and it now hung at the castle gate unnoticed, as a portcullis, whose chains have rusted with centuries of peace.
“Now, the rulers were absent, with no thought of their provinces, wasting their strength in useless efforts to take down the king's armor, not dreaming that they might be losing their own and fighting among themselves in rivalry for the hand of the fair princess, whom neither of them had ever seen. How many of them flattered themselves that they should succeed in single combat with the old monarch, whom they could not even meet in his grounds without awe, cannot be known, but the coat of arms had many a tug from that day; and we can imagine the feelings of each suitor, as he retreated ignominiously down the long, straight avenue, the subdued laughter of those tantalizing maids of honor behind him, at the windows, stiffening his elbows, and twitching his knees, till by the time he reached the highway, he was breathless, as if he had been fighting the ancient wearer of the armor himself.
“Meantime, where was the youth upon whom the princess had smiled? In the remotest hamlet of the kingdom, disguised as a peasant; in his hands the charmed sword had become an axe, with the fame of whose exploits the woods still ring. Nor was he long in winning the strength of every woodman's arm, and with the last stroke the axe in his hands became a hammer, with whose lusty blows, ere long, every anvil in the neighboring province echoed, till with the last blow the hammer in his hands became a ploughshare; and thus, through each province, beginning at the foot and leaving at the head, until there was not an acre in that vast domain which he did not know better than those who tilled it; no forge or furnace at which his arm had not proved the strongest; no art or craft that did not own him master. Then the sword returned to its sheath, and he said, 'I have served my apprenticeship; now let me take my degrees.'
“Then he boldly presented himself at each castle, and demanded the ancient right of trial.
“At the gate of the first hung a mighty axe, which the giant arm of the ancient lord had placed there, as a defiance to after times, with the inscription, 'To him who can wield it.'
“He took it down as if it were a toy, and sunk it to the helve in the gate post, carving on the handle the words, 'To him who can draw it.' Then he entered the castle, and investing himself with the rights and titles that belonged to him as victor, and leaving the province in the keeping of a suitable deputy, he went on to the next, at whose castle gate hung the ponderous hammer of the royal smith, its former owner, with the inscription, 'To him who can swing it.' This he not only swung around, as if it were a walking stick, but left buried to the head in the gate of massive oak, and with unmoved breath bade the chamberlain, who, with all the retinue of servants, had flown to open it at his thundering summons, to carve upon the handle the words, 'To him who can take it.'
“Then entering, and assuming his rightful authority, and leaving the administration of the province in proper keeping, he went on to the next castle, where at the gate stood a huge plough, with the inscription, 'To him who can hold it.'