field for the night.  In the morning they took the lady into a fine and rich room, and gave her the finest pear she had ever seen, bidding her not to break it till she was in the greatest strait ever mortal could be in, and that would get her out of it.  Again she was lifted and set on his back, and away they went.  And long they rode, and hard they rode, till they came in sight of the far biggest castle and far farthest off, they had yet seen.  “We must be yonder to-night,” says the Bull, “for my young brother lives yonder;” and they were there directly.  They lifted her down, took her in, and sent the Bull to the field for the night.  In the morning they took her into a room, the finest of all, and gave her a plum, telling her not to break it till she was in the greatest strait mortal could be in, and that would get her out of it.  Presently they brought home the Bull, set the lady on his back, and away they went.

And aye they rode, and on they rode, till they came to a dark and ugsome glen, where they stopped, and the lady lighted down.  Says the Bull to her:  “Here you must stay till I go and fight the Old One.  You must seat yourself on that stone, and move neither hand nor foot till I come back, else I’ll never find you again.  And if everything round about you turns blue, I have beaten the Old One; but should all things turn red, he’ll have conquered me.”  She set herself down on the stone, and by-and-by all round her turned blue.  Overcome with joy, she lifted one of her feet, and crossed it over the other, so glad was she that her companion was victorious.  The Bull returned and sought for her, but never could find her.

Long she sat, and aye she wept, till she wearied.  At last she rose and went away, she didn’t know where.  On she wandered, till she came to a great hill of glass, that she tried all she could to climb, but wasn’t able.  Round the bottom of the hill she went, sobbing and seeking a passage over, till at last she came to a smith’s house; and the smith promised, if she would serve him seven years, he would make her iron shoon, wherewith she could climb over the glassy hill.  At seven years’ end she got her iron shoon, clomb the glassy hill, and chanced to come to the old washerwife’s habitation.  There she was told of a gallant young knight that had given in some clothes all over blood to wash, and whoever washed them was to be his wife.  The old wife had washed till she was tired, and then she set her daughter at it, and both washed, and they washed, and they washed, in hopes of getting the young knight; but for all they could do they couldn’t bring out a stain.  At length they set the stranger damsel to work; and whenever she began, the stains came out pure and clean, and the old wife made the knight believe it was her daughter had washed the clothes.  So the knight and the eldest daughter were to be married, and the stranger damsel was distracted at the thought of it, for she was deeply in love with