The Princess on the Glass Hill
Once on a time, there was a man who had a meadow, which lay high upon the hillside, and in the meadow was a barn, which he had built to keep his hay in. Now, I must tell you there hadn't been much in the barn for the last year or two, for every St. John's night, when the grass stood greenest and deepest, the meadow was eaten down to the very ground the next morning, just as if a whole drove of sheep had been there feeding on it over night. This happened once, and it happened twice; so at last the man grew weary of losing his crop of hay, and said to his sons—for he had three of them, and the youngest was nicknamed Boots, of course—that now one of them must just go and sleep in the barn in the outlying field when St. John's night came, for it was no joke that his grass should be eaten, root and blade, this year, as it had been the last two years. So whichever of them went must keep a sharp look-out; that was what their father said.
Well, the eldest son was ready to go and watch the meadow; trust him for looking after the grass. So, when evening came, he set off to the barn, and lay down to sleep. But a little on in the night came such a clatter, and such an earthquake, that walls and roof shook, and groaned, and creaked. Then up jumped the lad, and took to his heels as fast as ever he could; nor dared he once look around until he reached home; and as for the hay, why it was eaten up this year just as it had been twice before.
The next St. John's night, the man said again it would never do to lose all the grass in the outlying field year after year in this way, so one of his sons must just trudge off to watch it, and watch it well too. Well, the next oldest son was ready to try his luck, so he set off and sat down to watch in the barn as his brother had done before him. But as the night wore on, there came on a rumbling and quaking of the earth, worse even than on the last St. John's night, and when the lad heard it, he got frightened, and took to his heels as though he were running a race.
Next year the turn came to Boots; but when he made ready to go the other two began to laugh and to make game of him, saying,—
"You're just the man to watch the hay, that you are; you, who have done nothing all your life but sit in the ashes and toast yourself by the fire."
But Boots did not care a pin for their chattering, and as evening drew on, he walked up the hillside to the outlying field. There he went inside the barn and sat down; but in about an hour's time the barn began to groan and creak, so that it was dreadful to hear.
"Well," said Boots to himself, "if it isn't worse than this, I can stand it well enough."
A little while after came another creak and an earthquake, so that the litter in the barn flew about the lad's ears.
"Oh!" said Boots to himself, "if it isn't worse than this, I daresay I can stand it out."