THE STORY OF CICCU
' I have,' said he, ' a little house in the village, and over it grows a fig-tree. The house I leave to my sons, who are to live in it together; the fig-tree I divide as follows. To my son Peppe I leave the branches. To my sou Alfin I leave the trunk. To my son Ciccu I leave the fruit. Besides the house and tree, I have an old coverlet, which I leave to my eldest son. And an old purse, which I leave to my second son. And a horn, which I leave to my youngest son. And now farewell.'
Thus speaking, he laid himself down, and died quietly. The brothers wept bitterly for their father, whom they loved, and when they had buried him they began to talk over their future lives. 'What shall we do now?' said they. ' Shall we live in the wood, or go back to the village?' And they made up their minds to stay where they were and continue to earn their living by selling firewood.
One very hot evening, after they had been working hard all day, they fell asleep under a tree in front of the hut. And as they slept there came by three fairies, who stopped to look at them.
' What fine fellows !' said one. ' Let us give them a present.'
' Yes, what shall it be?' asked another.
' This youth has a coverlet over him,' said the first fairy. ' When he wraps it round him, and wishes himself in any place, he will find himself there in an instant.'
Then said the second fairy: ' This youth has a purse in his hand. I will promise that it shall always give him as much gold as he asks for.'
Last came the turn of the third fairy. ' This one has a horn slung round him. When he blows at the small end the seas shall be covered with ships. And if he blows at the wide end they shall all be sunk in the waves.' So they vanished, without knowing that Ciccu had been awake and heard all they said.
The next day, when they were all cutting wood, he