Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales. Fillmore Parker
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the various coins in the cracks of the measure. The next day he returned to the King.
“My master, Mighty Mikko,” he said, “sends you thanks, O King, for the use of your bushel measure.”
The King held out his hand and when the Fox gave him the measure he peeped inside to see if by chance it contained any trace of what had recently been measured. His eye of course at once caught the glint of the gold and silver coins lodged in the cracks.
“Ah!” he said, thinking Mikko must be a very mighty lord indeed to be so careless of his wealth; “I should like to meet your master. Won’t you and he come and visit me?”
This was what the Fox wanted the King to say but he pretended to hesitate.
“I thank your Majesty for the kind invitation,” he said, “but I fear my master can’t accept it just now. He wants to get married soon and we are about to start off on a long journey to inspect a number of foreign princesses.”
This made the King all the more anxious to have Mikko visit him at once for he thought that if Mikko should see his daughter before he saw those foreign princesses he might fall in love with her and marry her. So he said to the Fox:
“My dear fellow, you must prevail on your master to make me a visit before he starts out on his travels! You will, won’t you?”
The Fox looked this way and that as if he were too embarrassed to speak.
“Your Majesty,” he said at last, “I pray you pardon my frankness. The truth is you are not rich enough to entertain my master and your castle isn’t big enough to house the immense retinue that always attends him.”
The King, who by this time was frantic to see Mikko, lost his head completely.
“My dear Fox,” he said, “I’ll give you anything in the world if you prevail upon your master to visit me at once! Couldn’t you suggest to him to travel with a modest retinue this time?”
The Fox shook his head.
“No. His rule is either to travel with a great retinue or to go on foot disguised as a poor woodsman attended only by me.”
“Couldn’t you prevail on him to come to me disguised as a poor woodsman?” the King begged. “Once he was here, I could place gorgeous clothes at his disposal.”
But still the Fox shook his head.
“I fear Your Majesty’s wardrobe doesn’t contain the kind of clothes my master is accustomed to.”
“I assure you I’ve got some very good clothes,” the King said. “Come along this minute and we’ll go through them and I’m sure you’ll find some that your master would wear.”
So they went to a room which was like a big wardrobe with hundreds and hundreds of hooks upon which were hung hundreds of coats and breeches and embroidered shirts. The King ordered his attendants to bring the costumes down one by one and place them before the Fox.
They began with the plainer clothes.
“Good enough for most people,” the Fox said, “but not for my master.”
Then they took down garments of a finer grade.
“I’m afraid you’re going to all this trouble for nothing,” the Fox said. “Frankly now, don’t you realize that my master couldn’t possibly put on any of these things!”
The King, who had hoped to keep for his own use his most gorgeous clothes of all, now ordered these to be shown.
The Fox looked at them sideways, sniffed them critically, and at last said:
“Well, perhaps my master would consent to wear these for a few days. They are not what he is accustomed to wear but I will say this for him: he is not proud.”
The King was overjoyed.
“Very well, my dear Fox, I’ll have the guest chambers put in readiness for your master’s visit and I’ll have all these, my finest clothes, laid out for him. You won’t disappoint me, will you?”
“I’ll do my best,” the Fox promised.
With that he bade the King a civil good day and ran home to Mikko.
The next day as the Princess was peeping out of an upper window of the castle, she saw a young woodsman approaching accompanied by a Fox. He was a fine stalwart youth and the Princess, who knew from the presence of the Fox that he must be Mikko, gave a long sigh and confided to her serving maid:
“I think I could fall in love with that young man if he really were only a woodsman!”
Later when she saw him arrayed in her father’s finest clothes – which looked so well on Mikko that no one even recognized them as the King’s – she lost her heart completely and when Mikko was presented to her she blushed and trembled just as any ordinary girl might before a handsome young man.
All the Court was equally delighted with Mikko. The ladies went into ecstasies over his modest manners, his fine figure, and the gorgeousness of his clothes, and the old graybeard Councilors, nodding their heads in approval, said to each other:
“Nothing of the coxcomb about this young fellow! In spite of his great wealth see how politely he listens to us when we talk!”
The next day the Fox went privately to the King, and said:
“My master is a man of few words and quick judgment. He bids me tell you that your daughter, the Princess, pleases him mightily and that, with your approval, he will make his addresses to her at once.”
The King was greatly agitated and began:
“My dear Fox – ”
But the Fox interrupted him to say:
“Think the matter over carefully and give me your decision to-morrow.”
So the King consulted with the Princess and with his Councilors and in a short time the marriage was arranged and the wedding ceremony actually performed!
“Didn’t I tell you?” the Fox said, when he and Mikko were alone after the wedding.
“Yes,” Mikko acknowledged, “you did promise that I should marry the Princess. But, tell me, now that I am married what am I to do? I can’t live on here forever with my wife.”
“Put your mind at rest,” the Fox said. “I’ve thought of everything. Just do as I tell you and you’ll have nothing to regret. To-night say to the King: ‘It is now only fitting that you should visit me and see for yourself the sort of castle over which your daughter is hereafter to be mistress!’”
When Mikko said this to the King, the King was overjoyed for now that the marriage had actually taken place he was wondering whether he hadn’t perhaps been a little hasty. Mikko’s words reassured him and he eagerly accepted the invitation.
On the morrow the Fox said to Mikko:
“Now I’ll run on ahead and get things ready for you.”
“But where are you going?” Mikko said, frightened at the thought of being deserted by his little friend.
The Fox drew Mikko aside and whispered softly:
“A few days’ march from here there is a very gorgeous castle belonging to a wicked old dragon who is known as the Worm. I think the Worm’s castle would just about suit you.”
“I’m sure it would,” Mikko agreed. “But how are we to get it away from the Worm?”
“Trust me,” the Fox said. “All you need do is this: lead the King and his courtiers along the main highway until by noon to-morrow you reach a crossroads. Turn there to the left and go straight on until you see the tower of the Worm’s castle. If you meet any men by the wayside, shepherds or the like, ask them whose men they are and show no surprise at their answer. So now, dear master, farewell until we meet again at your beautiful castle.”
The little Fox trotted off at a smart pace and Mikko and the Princess and the King attended by the whole Court followed in more leisurely fashion.
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