Atondido Stories
“No, no, my son, don’t talk that way. It’s true there is a pretty
youth here, but he’s come to ask you about something.”
“Well, if he wants to ask me something, let him come out and
ask.”
“Yes, my son, he will, but only when you promise me that
you will do nothing to him.”
“Well, I won’t do anything to him. Now let him come out.”
The prince hidden under the besom was shaking like an as-
pen leaf, for when he peeped through the twigs he saw an ogre
so huge that he himself would reach up only to his knees. Hap-
pily the ogre had guaranteed his life before Yezibaba ordered
him out.
“Well, well, well, you little June bug!” shouted the ogre.
“What are you afraid of? Where have you been? What do you
want?”
“What do I want?” repeated the prince. “I have been wander-
ing in these mountains a long time and I can’t find what I’m
seeking. So I’ve come to you to ask whether you can tell me
something about the Glass Hill and the Three Citrons.”
Yezibaba’s son wrinkled his forehead. He thought for a mo-
ment and then, lowering his voice a little, he said: “I’ve never
heard of any Glass Hill around here. But I tell you what you do:
go on to my brother in arms who lives in the Silver Castle and
ask him. Maybe he’ll be able to tell you. But I can’t let you go
away hungry. That would never do! Hi, mother, bring out the
dumplings!”
Old Yezibaba placed a large dish on the table and her giant
son sat down.
“Well, come on! Eat!” he shouted to the prince.
When the prince took the first dumpling and bit into it, he al-
most broke two of his teeth, for the dumpling was made of lead.
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