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Tales from the Fjeld

So when the king's son had eaten and rested himself awhile he set off on his way again. And after a long, long time he came to the same town and the same inn where there was always mirth and never sorrow, and he too thought it would be good to turn in there; and the very first man he met was his brother, and so he too stayed there. His brother had feasted and drank till he had scarce any clothes to his back; but now they both begun anew, and there was such drinking and dancing, and fun and jollity, that the second brother also forgot the bird and its feathers, and his father, the quest, and the whole kingdom. Away he was, and away he stayed, he too.

So when the time drew on that the apple was getting ripe again, the king's youngest son was to go out into the garden and watch for the apple-thief. Now he took with him a comrade, who was to help him up into the tree, and they took with them a keg of ale and a pack of cards to while away the time, so that they should not fall asleep. All at once came a blaze as of the sun, and just as the golden bird pounced down and snapped up the apple, the king's son tried to seize it, but he only got a feather out of its tail. So he went into the king's bedroom, and when he came in with the feather the room was as bright as broad day.

So he too would go out into the wide world to try if he could hear any tidings of his brothers and catch the bird; for after all, he had been so near it that he had put his mark on it, and got a feather out of its tail.

Well, the king was long in making up his mind if he should let him go, for he thought it would not be better