“Yes,” said mother’s-mother, “I suppose I do. They are not like your little grandmamma’s stories. The stories of this commune are different. They are more about the Vilas than those of your commune are. Yours are mostly about Reinecke and the other beasts, are they not?”
“I like Reinecke and the beasts,” said the little boy. “But I should like the Vilas, too, mother’s-mother.”
“Then I will tell you about them,” said the other grandmother. “Sit down on that stool—it was your mother’s when she was a little girl. That is right. Now I will tell you about
“THE VILA OF MUHLENBERG”
Once upon a time there was an aged widow who had only one son, whom she watched and cherished in her old age. Now there was a great war at that time all over the world; every man who could bear arms was forced to go into the army, and among others the widow’s son. There he so distinguished himself for bravery on every occasion that he was promoted to be Captain.
Now it happened one time that they suffered a defeat. Among the wounded was our Captain, and as he lay on the ground he prayed God to spare his life, at least until he had seen his old mother. He was in the greatest danger, for all around him the enemy was killing the wounded. Suddenly an aged dame stood before him and asked him what he was praying for, promising him that she would grant his wish.
Without taking time to think, he answered, “Give me a horse, that I may escape before the enemy murder me.”
Upon this she struck upon the earth with the staff that was in her hand, and softly murmured a few words. Suddenly a noble steed stood before him, all saddled and bridled; he had only to mount it. He looked around to thank the old dame, but she had vanished.
The Captain sprang into the saddle, gave the horse the spur, and flew from the spot like an arrow from the bow. He rode on for a long time without noticing in what direction the horse was carrying him, when suddenly it stopped.