keeped for the old weaver. In about twelve months' time the prince was courting and about to marry one of the ladies of the king's court. On the wedding-day the princess went into the court, and before the marriage asked if the company would like a little play. They said "Yes;" and the princess then put up a tight-rope and danced on it beautifully. The bride said she could dance as good as that, and up she got on the tight-rope, and fell down and broke her leg, so the wedding had to be put off for another year.
When the time came round again the princess went to the court and asked if they would like a little game. They said "Yes," but they'd have no tight-rope. So she pulled out a cock and hen and put them on the table; then she threw a grain of wheat to the hen, and the cock gave the hen a peck and ate the wheat himself. The princess then said, "Ah, my little cock! it wasn't thus I did for you when I cleaned out the stable and found the needle for you." She then kept throwing grains to the hen, and the cock took it from her, and at every throw she said something she had done for John. At last Prince John remembered the princess, and jumped over the table and caught hold of her as his true wife. Then they were married, and live still, if they are not dead, in the parish of Warland.
FOLK-LORE FROM PESHAWUR.
HE Peshawur Valley is a fertile plain through which flows the Kabul river, and which extends from the River Indus on the east to the Khyber Pass and the Afridi Hills on the west. It is bounded on the north by the mountains of the independent territory of Swát, and on the south by the Kattak Hills. The bulk of the inhabitants are Pathán Mussulmans, a brave, sturdy, but bigoted race, the descendants of one Yusuf, who is said to have come originally from Kandahar. There was a time, how-
