“Brook,” says he, “did you see the fisher-lad go by this way?” “Yes,” said the brook; “there he is just on the other side.” And there he was sure enough. The Grey Master never stopped to take off his shoes and stockings, but into the water he splashed as fast as he could go. Just as he reached the middle of the stream the brook began to swell, and grew large and larger until it carried away the Grey Master like a cork in the gutter, and there was an end of him. After that the lad went on without hurrying any more than he chose, until he came to the side of the mountain. He took the eagle’s feather from out his cap and threw it up in the air, and there was the eagle before he had time to grow tired of waiting. He sat him upon the eagle’s back, and away they flew, and on and on without stopping until they came to the house where the queen of the birds lived. There was Father Longlegs (the stork) waiting for them. He took his turn of carrying the lad, and when they stopped it was just over beyond the king’s castle. But the lad had been out into the world, and had learned a thing or two. “See now,” says he, “it was hasty cooking that burned the broth;” and so he would not go up to the castle with his key of wish-house without first trying what door he could unlock with it himself. He took it out of his pocket and struck it a rap or two upon the ground. “I should like,” says he, “to have golden clothes upon my back, and to have a golden horse and a golden greyhound that shall chase a golden hare.” That was what he said, and he did not have to say it twice; for before he could wink there they were standing beside him just as he wanted. He leaped upon his horse and away he rode after the greyhound and the golden hare. How the people in the castle did stare when they saw him riding past! The princess herself ran to the window to see the fine sight, and as for the king, he sent six of his knights posting after the fisher-lad, for he thought that it was some great lord who had come into those parts. [Illustration: The Grey Master is caught in the stream and is swept away, but y^e Fisher Lad crosses it dry-shod. ):(] By and by the lad came to a thicket, and there he jumped off of his horse and rapped upon the ground with his key. “I wish to be as I was before,” says he, and then he was the poor fisher-lad and nothing else. As for the golden clothes, the golden horse, the golden greyhound, and the golden hare, they went back to Nomansland whither they had come; and when the king’s people came riding up there was nobody but a lad in rags and tatters whistling into a key. They hunted up and they hunted down, but they could find neither sign nor trace of the golden rider and the golden horse. So after a while they had to ride back to the castle without them. “You should have brought the lad who blew upon the key,” said the princess. The next day the lad rapped upon the ground with his key again.