{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_41729/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_41729","id":"gutenberg_41729","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41729","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Novels","Fairy tales","Fantasy literature"],"text":"Produced by Meredith Dixon and Melissa Reid\n\n\n\n\nBy Abbie Farwell Brown\n  Kisington Town. Illustrated.\n  Songs of Sixpence. Illustrated.\n  Their City Christmas.  Illustrated.\n  John of the Woods. Illustrated.\n  Fresh Posies.  Illustrated.\n  Friends and Cousins. Illustrated.\n  The Star Jewels and Other Wonders. Illustrated.\n  The Flower Princess.  Illustrated.\n  The Curious Book of Birds.  Illustrated.\n  A Pocketful of Posies.  Illustrated.\n  In the Days of Giants.  Illustrated.\n  The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts.  Illustrated.\n  The Lonesomest Doll.  Illustrated.\n\n  Houghton Mifflin Company\n  Boston and New York\n\n[Frontispiece:  THERE WERE WIDE WINDOW-SEATS AND CUSHIONS]\n\nKisington Town by Abbie Farwell Brown\n\n\"Blessed are the peacemakers.\"\n\nWith Illustrations\n\n[Illustration: Le Lion Passant]\n\n  To the Best of Readers,\n  Whose Pleasant Voices taught me\n  the Love of Books\n  Dear Father : Dear Mother\n\n  O for a book and a shadie nook\n  Eyther in-a-door or out,\n  With the greene leaves whisp'ring overhede,\n  Or the street-cryes all about,\n  Where I may Reade at my ease,\n  Both of the Newe and Olde\n  For a jollie goode Booke, whereon to looke,\n  Is better to me than Golde! -- Old Song\n\nCONTENTS\n\n      I. HAROLD\n     II. THE SIEGE OF KISINGTON\n    III. RED REX\n     IV. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART I\n      V. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART II\n     VI. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART III\n    VII. THE BARGAIN\n   VIII. THE WONDER-GARDEN\n     IX. THE KING'S COAT OF ARMS\n      X. THE LION PASSANT\n     XI. HOPE\n    XII. THE HERMIT GNOME\n   XIII. HAROLD'S LUNCHEON XIV. THE ROBBER XV. THE BANDAGED HAND\n    XVI. THE KING'S PIE\n   XVII. THE MYSTERY OF THE PIE\n  XVIII. LITTLE BEAR: AN OJIBWAY LEGEND\n    XIX. THE RED KING'S VISIT\n     XX. THE BEAR'S DAUGHTER\n    XXI. RED REX AND KING VICTOR\n   XXII. THE BOOKS CONQUER\n\nNote: The tales of \"The Wonder-Garden\" and \"The King's Pie\" are here\nreprinted by courteous permission of the publishers of _St. Nicholas_,\nin which magazine they originally appeared.  The tales of \"The Dragon of\nHushby,\" \"The Lion Passant,\" and \"Little Bear,\" are reprinted by kind\npermission of the publishers of _The Churchman_.  The Icelandic legend\nof \"The Bear's Daughter\" is sketched from notes of a talk by Vilhjalmir\nStef'ansson, the explorer, who is lamented as lost on the late\nunfortunate voyage of the Karluk to Arctic waters.\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n  THERE WERE WIDE WINDOW-SEATS AND CUSHIONS--Colored frontispiece.\n  HAROLD BEGAN TO READ FROM THE RED-AND-GOLD BOOK\n  SHE LOOKED BAD-TEMPERED\n  THE MAIDENS WOULD PAUSE TO LOOK AFTER THE GOLDEN COACH\n  HE STOOD IN THE DOORWAY TALKING WITH THE STRANGER\n\nFrom drawings by Ruby Winckler\n\n\n\nI: HAROLD\n\nOnce upon a time there was a peaceful Kingdom which you will hardly find\nupon the map. In one corner of the Kingdom by the sea was the pretty\nlittle Town of Kisington, where a great many strange things had happened\nin the past, the chronicles of which filled the town library.\n\nOn the High Street of Kisington lived a boy named Harold, who was chief\nof all the boys in town. He could run faster, jump higher, solve a\nproblem more quickly, and throw a ball farther than any other lad of his\nage. He was tall and straight and broad-shouldered. His hair was brown\nand curly, and his eyes were sky-color,--sometimes blue, sometimes gray,\nsometimes almost black. All the boys liked Harold, especially Richard\nand Robert, his chums. And Harold liked all the boys and their doings;\nespecially these same two, Robert and Richard.\n\nHarold was the son of a poor widow; one of the poorest in the Kingdom.\nBut though she was so poor, the mother of Harold was determined that her\nson should be a scholar, because he liked books. And she worked early\nand late to earn the money for his education.\n\nWhen Harold was not in school or playing out of doors with the other\nboys, he always had a book in his hand. Often this happened in the town\nlibrary, where Harold loved to go. But almost as often it happened at\nhome. For though Harold liked to read to himself, he liked quite as well\nto read aloud to his mother, who ever since she was a tiny child had\nalways been so busy taking care of other people that she had never found\ntime to learn to read for herself. The greatest happiness of her life\ncame in the evening when her work was done. Then she could sit in a cozy\nchair in their cottage and hear her boy read the exciting books which he\ngot from the library of Kisington. And the other boys--especially\nRichard and Robert--liked also to hear Harold read; for his voice was\nagreeable and he read simply and naturally, without any gestures or\ntremulous tones,  without pulling queer faces such as make listeners\nwant to sink through the floor with embarrassment.\n\nEvery time Harold read a story aloud he liked it better than before;\nevery time he read aloud he read better than he had done the last time,\nuntil there was nobody in Kisington, not even the Librarian himself, who\nwas so good a reader as Harold. But the other boys were not jealous,\nHarold was so good-natured and always ready to read to them.\n\nThe Librarian was a very important personage indeed in Kisington. You\nsee, this was a peaceful Kingdom, where books were more thought of than\nbullets, and libraries than battleships. The Librarian wore a splendid\nvelvet gown with fur upon the hood, and a gold chain around his neck\nwith a medal, and he was second in importance only to the Lord Mayor\nhimself.\n\nOne summer evening the windows of the cottage where Harold and his\nmother lived were wide open, and Harold was reading aloud to her. For a\nwonder, they were quite by themselves. The Librarian, who was a lonely\nold fellow without chick or child of his own, happened to be passing\ndown the High Street when he heard the sound of a voice reading. It\nread so well that he stopped to listen. Presently he tapped on the door\nand begged to be invited within the better to hear the reading. The\nwidow was very proud and pleased, you may be sure. She bade the\nLibrarian welcome, and Harold continued to read until curfew sounded for\nevery one to go to bed. The Librarian patted him on the head and asked\nif he might come again to hear such good reading. He came, in fact, the\nvery next night.\n\nAfter that Harold usually had an audience of at least two on the long\nevenings, even when the other boys were busy. The Librarian became his\nfast friend. He liked to come to the little cottage better than anywhere\nelse in the world, except to his own library. But at the library he in\nturn was host, and Harold became his guest. And he showed Harold many\nwonderful things in that library of which no one but the Librarian knew\nthe existence,--strange histories, forgotten chronicles, wonder-tales.\nGradually Harold became almost as well acquainted with the books as was\nthe Librarian himself; though, of course, he did not at first understand\nthem all. Nothing happens all at once. The other fellows called Harold\nthe \"Book-Wizard.\"\n\nThe library was a beautiful building on the main square, close by the\nLord Mayor's house and the belfry, where swung the great town bell. It\nwas open freely to every one, from morning until night, and any one\ncould always get any book he wanted, for there were many copies of each\nbook. The caretakers always knew just where to find the book one wished.\nOr the reader might go in and choose for himself; which is a pleasanter\nthing when you have forgotten the name of your book, or do not know just\nwhich book you want most until you have looked about.\n\nThe shelves of the library were nice and low, so that, no matter how\nlittle you were, you could reach the books without standing on tiptoe or\nclimbing a dangerous ladder. And everywhere in the library were\nwell-lighted tables to put books on, and cozy chairs, and crickets for\nyour feet, and cushions for your back. There were wide window-seats,\ntoo, where between chapters one could curl up and look down into a\nbeautiful garden.\n\nThe air of the library was always sweet and clean. The books were always\nbright and fresh. There was no noise, nor dust, nor torn pages, nor\ncross looks to disturb one. The people who took care of the books were\ncivil and obliging. It was indeed a very rare and unusual library. No\nwonder Harold and the Librarian and all the other citizens of Kisington\nloved it and were proud of it and used it very often.\n\n\n\nII: THE SIEGE OF KISINGTON\n\nNow, when Harold was about twelve years old, a terrible thing befell his\ncity. Red Rex, ruler of the neighboring land across the border, decided\nto make war on this peaceful Kingdom, just for fun. He was a fierce and\npowerful King, and he had a fierce and powerful army, always ready,\nnight and day. One morning, without any warning whatever, they marched\nright up to the walls of Kisington, which were never defended, and laid\nsiege to the city. They began to batter the gates and mine the walls and\nfire into the city arrows and cannon-balls, or whatever were the\nfashionable missiles of that long-past day. The peaceful city was in\ndanger of being utterly destroyed.\n\nThe people of Kisington were greatly distressed. Though they were brave,\nthey did not want to fight. They had no time for fighting, there were so\nmany more interesting things to attend to: agriculture and commerce,\nscience and art and music, study and play and happiness, all of which\ncome to an end when fighting begins. They did not want to fight; but\nneither did they want their beautiful city destroyed, with all its\ntreasures.\n\nThere was no telephone, no telegraph in those days. Messages went by\nhorses. It would be days before help could come from their own King\nVictor, who lived in the Capital City. In the mean time what could be\ndone to save Kisington? The Lord Mayor set the great bell to tolling in\nthe belfry, and this called together the Chief Citizens in the hall of\nthe library to consider the emergency.\n\n\"Alas!\" quoth the Lord Mayor, trying to make himself heard in the horrid\ndin that was arising from the city gates, \"our fair city is threatened,\nand will be taken in a few hours unless we can devise some plan of\nwisdom. Force we have not, as you all know. Force is the argument of\nbarbarians. Already a missile has knocked down the statue of Progress\nfrom the portal of the library, and I fear that the whole building is\ndoomed. For it is at our library that the enemy seem to be directing\ntheir malice.\"\n\nA groan of anguish answered him. Then the Librarian spoke up. \"Ah! the\nmisguided King! He does not love books. If only he knew the treasures he\nis threatening to destroy! He cannot understand.\"\n\n\"No. He knows not what he does,\" said the Lord Mayor solemnly. \"He is\nwar-mad and cannot understand anything else. If he had been brought up\nto love peace and learning and progress better than war and blood, he\nwould be a different man. He would be seeking to know our books in love,\nnot to destroy them with hate. If he had but read our Chronicles, surely\nhe would not wish to put an end to this our unique treasure.\"\n\nThe Librarian started at his words and jumped to his feet. \"You give me\nan idea, my Lord Mayor!\" he cried. \"Can we not cause him to change his\nmind? Can we not interest him in our books, enthrall him in the\nChronicles of Kisington, so that he will cease to make war? Can we not\nat least gain time until our King Victor and his allies shall come to\nour aid?\"\n\n_Boom!_ went the cannon, and _Crash!_ the statue of a great poet fell\nfrom the portal of the library.\n\nThe Lord Mayor shuddered. \"It is an idea,\" he agreed. \"There is a faint\nhope. Something must be done, and that quickly. How shall we begin, Sir\nLibrarian?\"\n\nThe Librarian turned to the shelves behind him and took down at random a\nbook bound in red-and-gold. \"Here, let us begin with this,\" he said. \"It\nmay not be the best of all our Chronicles, but if the warlike King can\nbe induced to read it through, it may serve to hold his wrath for a\nspace.\"\n\n\"Who will go with the volume into the enemy's camp?\" asked the Lord\nMayor dubiously.\n\n\"We must send our best reader,\" said the Librarian. \"Red Rex must hear\nthe tale read aloud, the better to hold his unaccustomed attention.\"\n\n\"Surely, you are the best reader, Sir Librarian,\" urged the Lord Mayor\ngenerously. \"How we all admire your style and diction!\"\n\n_Crash!_ The rainbow window above their heads was shivered into a\nthousand pieces.\n\nThe Lord Mayor turned pale. \"We must make haste!\" he urged, pushing the\nLibrarian gently by the elbow.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Librarian coolly, releasing himself. \"There is one who\nreads far better than I. It is a young boy, the son of a poor widow\nliving on the High Street. Harold is his name, and he reads as sweetly\nas a nightingale sings. Let us send for him at the same time when our\nmessenger goes to King Victor.\"\n\n\"Let it be done immediately!\" commanded the Lord Mayor.\n\nThis happened on a Saturday, when the boys were not at school. But on\naccount of the bombardment of the city, the Lord Mayor had already given\norders that every child should remain in his own home that morning. So\nHarold was with his mother when the messenger from the Lord Mayor\nknocked on the door of the little cottage in the High Street, and Robert\nand Richard did not know anything about it.\n\n\"Come with me!\" said the messenger to Harold. \"You are needed for\nimportant service.\"\n\n\"Oh, where is he going?\" cried the poor, trembling mother, holding back\nher boy by the shoulders.\n\n\"He is to come directly to the library,\" said the messenger. \"The\nLibrarian has a task for him.\"\n\n\"Ah! The Librarian!\" The mother sighed with relief, and let her hands\nfall from the shoulders of Harold. \"To that good man of peace I can\ntrust my son, even amid this wicked bombardment.\"\n\nWhen Harold came to the library with the messenger, they found the\nbeautiful portal of the building quite destroyed, and the windows lying\nin pitiful shattered fragments. They entered under a rain of missiles,\nand discovered the Leading Citizens gathered in a pale group in the\ncenter of the hall, under a heavy oak table.\n\n\"My boy!\" said the Librarian, with as much dignity as possible under the\ncircumstances. \"We have sent for you, believing that you only can save\nour beautiful library, our books, our city, our people, from immediate\ndestruction. Will you risk your life for all these, Harold?\"\n\nHarold looked at him bravely. \"I do not know what you mean, sir,\" he\nsaid, \"but gladly would I risk my life to save the precious books\nalone. Tell me what I am to do, and I will do it as well as a boy can.\"\n\n\"Well spoken, my brave lad!\" cried the Librarian. \"You are to do this\";\nand he thrust into the hand of Harold a red-and-gold volume. \"Even as\nthe boy David of old conquered the Philistine with a child's toy, so you\nmay perhaps conquer this Philistine with a story-book. Go to the savage\nKing yonder, with a flag of truce; and if you can win his ear, beg to\nread him this, which is of an importance. If you read as well as I have\nheard you do ere now, I think he will pause in his work of destruction,\nat least until the story's end.\"\n\nHarold took the book, wondering. \"I will try my best, sir,\" he promised\nsimply.\n\n\n\nIII. RED REX\n\nA committee of the First Citizens led Harold to the city gate. He wished\nto say good-bye to his mother, and to Richard and Robert; but there was\nno time. Presently a watchman raised a white flag above the wall.\nThereafter the noise of the besiegers ceased.\n\n\"A truce, ho!\"\n\n\"What message from the besieged?\"\n\n\"One comes to parley with your King.\"\n\n\"Let him come forth, under the flag of truce. He will be safe.\"\n\nBearing the white flag in one hand and the gorgeous book in the other,\nHarold stepped outside the gate. The foreign soldiers stared to see so\nyoung a messenger, and some of them would have laughed. But Harold held\nup his head proudly and showed them that he was not afraid, nor was he\nto be laughed at.\n\n\"I am the messenger. Pray bring me to the King,\" he said with dignity.\n\nA guard of fierce-looking soldiers took him in charge and marched him\nacross the trampled sward, between the ranks of the army, until they\ncame to a little hillock. And there Harold found himself standing in\nfront of a huge man with bristling red hair and beard, having a mighty\narm bound with iron. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. He sat upon the\nhillock as if it were a throne, and held a wicked-looking sword across\nhis great knees, frowning terribly.\n\n\"Well, who are you, and what do you want with me?\" growled the Red King.\n\"A queer envoy this! A mere boy!\"\n\n\"The City Fathers have sent me to read you something, please Your\nMajesty,\" said Harold, trying to look brave, though his knees were\nquaking at the awful appearance of the War-Lord.\n\n\"Is it a war message?\" asked Red Rex, eyeing the red-and-gold book\nsuspiciously.\n\n\"You must hear and judge,\" answered Harold.\n\n\"Very well,\" grumbled the Red King. \"But waste no time. Begin and have\ndone as quickly as may be.\"\n\nHarold began to read from the red-and-gold book; but he had not gone far\nwhen Red Rex interrupted him.\n\n\"Why, it is a tale!\" he roared. \"Thunder and lightning! Do they think\nthis is a child's party? Go home with your story-book to your nursery\nand leave me to deal with your city in warrior fashion.\"\n\n\"I come from no nursery!\" protested Harold, squaring his shoulders. \"I\nam no molly-coddle. No boy can beat me at any game. I am instructed to\nread you this, and I must do so, unless you break the truce and do me\nharm.\"\n\n\"Who ever heard the like of this!\" thundered Red Rex. \"Here am I making\nreal war, and this boy interrupts me to read a tale! What a waste of\ntime! I read nothing, boy. War dispatches are all I have taste for. Does\nthis concern war?\"\n\n\"It has everything to do with this war,\" said Harold truthfully. \"It is\nvery important, and they say I read rather well.\"\n\n\"When did you learn to read rather well?\" questioned the Red King\nsulkily. \"I never learned to read well, myself, and I am thrice your\nage. I never have had time. At your years I was already a soldier.\nFighting was the only sport I cared for. Reading is girls' business.\"\n\n\"A lot of good things are girls' business, and boys' business, too,\"\nsaid Harold loyally. \"But please hear me read about the fight, Your\nMajesty.\"\n\n\"About a fight;--it is a long time since I heard a story about a fight,\nwritten in ink,\" said the Red King musingly. \"But I have myself seen\nmany fights, written in red blood.\"\n\n\"This is a story different from any you ever read,\" said Harold. \"It is\na story no one ever heard read before, outside Kisington. Will Your\nMajesty permit that I begin?\"\n\nRed Rex hummed and hawed, hesitated and frowned. But he was a curious\nKing, as well as a savage one, and his curiosity triumphed. \"What ho!\"\nhe shouted to his guard at last. \"Let there be a truce until I give word\nto resume the fighting. I have that which claims my attention. Boy, I\nwill hear the story. Plant the flag of truce upon this hillock and sit\ndown here at my feet. Now!\" He unfastened his belt and sword, took off\nhis heavy helmet and made himself comfortable, while his men lolled\nabout in the grass near by. Harold seated himself at the feet of the Red\nKing, as he was bidden; and opening the red-and-gold book began to read\nin his best manner the story of _The Dragon of Hushby_.\n\n\n\nIV. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART I\n\nLong, long ago, in the days when even stranger things befell than we see\nnowadays, travelers brought news to the little town of\nKisington-by-the-Sea. They said that the terrible Dragon of Hushby had\nwakened again from his fifty years' nap; had crept out of his cave in\nthe mountain, and was terrifying the country as he had done in the\ngrandfathers' times. Already he had destroyed ten horses; had eaten one\nhundred head of cattle, six fair maidens, and twelve plump little\nchildren. Besides which he had killed three brave men who had dared to\nfight with him. But now no one ventured near the cave where the dreadful\ncreature lived, and the land was filled with horror for which there\nseemed to be no hope of relief.\n\n[Illustration: HAROLD BEGAN TO READ FROM THE RED-AND-GOLD BOOK]\n\nMoreover, so the travelers said, the King proclaimed that whoever should\nput an end to the terror of Hushby might ask of his sovereign whatever\nreward he chose, even the hand of the King's daughter. Now when this\nnews came to Kisington there was great excitement. For Hushby Town was\nnot far distant from the market-place of Kisington. People gathered in\ngroups talking in whispers of the Dragon, and looking fearfully out of\nthe corners of their eyes as they spoke. Who could tell when the\ncreature might wander in their direction, as the Chronicles recorded\nthat he had done once, long ago, when he had destroyed the daughter of\nhim who was Lord Mayor at that time? Kisington had special reasons, you\nsee, for longing to hear that a hero had conquered the Dragon.\n\nOf all the people in Kisington who heard the news, the one most excited\nthereby was a lad named Arthur. He did not look like a hero, for he was\nshort, and small, and ugly. For this reason no one had ever thought him\nespecially brave. Most people expect heroes to be great, big men. Arthur\nwas held to be of little account in Kisington. But though he was a\nlittle fellow, he had a great heart. All his life he had loved tales of\nbravery and adventure, and he longed to be a. hero. Besides, he thought\nit would be a. fine thing to marry the King's daughter, who, like all\nprincesses, must be very beautiful.\n\nArthur lived by himself in a castle which had once belonged to his\nuncle. Now that uncle had been an Amateur Magician; that is, he was\nalways doing things with flaring fires and queer bottles, messes of\nstrange liquids and horrid smells,--hoping to learn how to turn old iron\ninto gold, or to discover some other useful secret. No one ever heard,\nhowever, of his accomplishing anything; until one day, with a _Bang!_ he\nblew himself up.` And every one heard of that. His will gave all his\nAmateur-Magical stuff to Arthur--all his forges and bellows and bulbs\nand bottles, the syrups and nasty smells. But Arthur cared nothing at\nall about Amateur Magic, and scarcely ever went into the desolate tower\nin one wing of the castle, where his uncle's laboratory was gathering\ndust.\n\nBut after news came about the Dragon of Hushby, things were different.\nAn idea had come into Arthur's head. \"Oh, dear!\" he said to himself. \"If\nonly I could find something which would make me big! Only a giant could\nkill the Dragon of Hushby, he is so huge and terrible. Perhaps my uncle\nmay have discovered a secret which would turn me into a giant!\"\n\nEagerly he hurried to the deserted room. Everything was draped in dusty\ncobwebs, and when he opened the door the rats went scuttling in all\ndirections. All among the bottles and boxes and books and bundles he\nsought and sought for some discovery which should help him. But though\nhe found many other curious things, he found not what he sought. Though\nhe poked in every dark corner and read carefully the labels on every\nphial, and the recipes in every book, he found no Secret for Growing\nBig. He could have learned, had he wished, \"How to Make a Silk Purse Out\nof a Sow's Ear\"; \"How to Make a Horse Drink\"; \"How to Make an Empty Sack\nStand Upright,\" and other very difficult things. But all these secrets\nwere of no use to Arthur, and he thought that his uncle had wasted much\nvaluable time in making these discoveries. Which, indeed, was true.\n\nArthur grew more and more discontented every day. But one morning, quite\nby accident, he hit his elbow against a hidden spring in a certain\nknot-hole of the wall in the dusty laboratory. Immediately a secret\npanel opened, and there behind it was a secret cupboard. In the cupboard\nwas the secretest-looking package, wrapped in a velvet cloth. Arthur\nunrolled it eagerly and found a little leather case. When the case was\nopened, he saw inside a bit of glass set in gold, with a handle. It\nlooked quite like a modern reading-glass--only reading-glasses were not\ninvented until many, many years later. \"What can this be?\" said Arthur\nto himself. And taking up the glass he looked through it. Wonderful!\nEverything suddenly seemed to become small--just as it does nowadays\nwhen we look through the wrong end of an opera-glass. But Arthur had\nnever seen an opera-glass, you know; this was so many hundreds of years\nago.\n\n Arthur looked around the room, and everything had suddenly become so\n tiny that it made him laugh. In the window a huge spider--as big as his\n hand--had been spinning her web. Now she was no larger than a dot. A\n rat scampered across the floor, and as Arthur looked it shrank to the\n size of a fly! A bird flew past the window, singing, and it grew\n smaller as it flew, while its voice became tinier and tinier till it\n sounded like the buzzing of an insect. Amazed, Arthur took down the\n glass from his eye. Instantly everything appeared again of its natural\n size--all except the spider and the rat and the bird. They remained\n tiny as they had seemed through the glass. Arthur had magicked them!\n\n\"Ho!\" cried Arthur. \"This is some of my uncle's Amateur Magic. He had,\nindeed, discovered how to make living things grow small. Alas! That\nhelps me little. I am small enough now. But if only it worked the other\nway I might become a giant. What a pity! what a pity! Stay--perhaps if I\nreverse the glass something better may be done!\"\n\nHe was about to turn the glass over and raise it to his eye again, when\nhe spied a bit of parchment in the box. On it were scribbled some words,\nin faded ink.\n\n\"A Wondrous Device to Make the Living Small. Thrice More May It be Used\nBefore Its Virtue Fades.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Arthur, laying down the glass. \"Then, as I feared, the glass\ncan only make things smaller. But I have an idea! What if I should look\nwith this glass upon the Dragon of Hushby? Would he not shrink as the\nspider and the rat and the bird have done? Yes; and then I should no\nlonger have need to be a giant, for I could tame him, even I myself in\nmy proper form! It is a good thought. I may yet be the hero of\nKisington. But I must be careful of the precious glass and not waste its\npowers. 'Thrice more may it be used,' so says the scroll. Once, then,\nfor the Dragon, and two times more for accidents that may happen.\"\n\nWithout more ado Arthur made ready for his great adventure. For arms he\ntook but two things--the magic glass in his wallet, and a butterfly-net\nover his shoulder. In truth, the little fellow looked more like a\nschoolboy bound for a holiday in the woods, than a hero in quest of\nhonor.\n\nNow, first, without saying aught of his intent to any in Kisington, he\njourneyed to the Capital City, to gain the King's permission for the\ntrial.\n\nWith the handle of his butterfly-net he thumped upon the door of the\nKing's palace and said: \"Open! I wish to speak with the King!\"\n\nThe warders looked at him and laughed; he was such a strange little\nfigure. \"What do you want of the King?\" they asked.\n\n\"Tell him that I come to seek his favor before I go forth to conquer the\nDragon of Hushby.\"\n\n\"Ho, ho!\" roared the warders. But they went and told the King what\nArthur said. \"He is mad, Your Majesty,\" they added. \"He is a little\nfellow, armed with a butterfly-net. Ho, ho!\"\n\nThe King laughed, too. But he was curious to see this champion. So he\nhad Arthur admitted. With his net over his shoulder, Arthur marched into\nthe long hall, between the rows of tittering courtiers, and knelt before\nthe King. \"So you intend to slay the Dragon of Hushby?\" said the King.\n\"It needs a giant for that deed. What will you do, forsooth, you little\nfellow, with your butterfly-net?\"\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" said Arthur, \"do you not remember how David was a little\nfellow, when with a stone he slew the giant Goliath? Well, I am another\nlittle fellow; but I have a stone in my pocket with which I mean to tame\na foe more terrible than David's was. And as for this net--wait, and\nyou shall see!\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the King, laughing, \"I will wait and see. But what\nreward shall you ask if you are successful?\"\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" said Arthur politely, \"may I ask to see your daughter? I\nhave heard that the Dragon-Slayer may hope to win her hand.\"\n\nAt these words of Arthur's the King burst into a roar of laughter, and\nclapped his knee, as though it were a mighty joke. And all the courtiers\nheld their sides and shook with mirth. But Arthur was angry, for he did\nnot see that he had said anything funny.\n\n\"Ho! ho!\" roared the King. \"Heralds, bid my daughter Agnes to come\nhither. He! he! For there is one who wishes to see her. Ha! ha!\"\n\nWhile the room was still echoing with laughter, the heralds entered with\nthe King's daughter, and Arthur saw why every one had laughed. The\nPrincess was a giantess,--a head taller than any man present,--and\nthough she was very beautiful, her face was hard and cold, and she\nlooked bad-tempered. When she walked, the floor trembled, and when she\nspoke, the glasses shivered.\n\n\"Who wishes to see me?\" she said in a deep voice, crossly.\n\n\"Heavens!\" said Arthur to himself, \"this is a Princess, indeed! It will\nbe more of a task to tame her than any dragon. But she is very handsome,\nand I have my magic glass. When we are married I will turn her into a\nnice little girl, just the size for me. So all will be well.\"\n\nThe King pointed to Arthur with his scepter. \"Behold our champion,\" he\nsaid, chuckling. \"My daughter, it is for you to hope that this brave\nfellow may slay the Dragon of Hushby. For in that case I vow to make you\nhis wife.\"\n\n\"Huh!\" said the Princess, looking down at Arthur and frowning. But\nArthur advanced and made a low bow to her. \"For such a great prize, Your\nHighness,\" he said, \"a man would venture much.\"\n\nAt these words the Princess looked crosser than ever, and tossed her\nhead. \"Take care that the Dragon does not swallow you at a mouthful,\nDwarf!\" she said, very impolitely, and every one laughed.\n\nArthur turned red with anger. \"I will take care,\" he said. \"And I shall\nwin what I will and conquer where I choose. Farewell, my lady. We shall\nhave more words hereafter, when I come to claim you for my wife.\"\n\n\"You shall have her if you win her,\" said the King.\n\nBut, of course, no one thought there was any hope for the little fellow.\nThey believed him to be mad, and when he had gone they nearly died,\nlaughing at the huge joke. The Princess laughed loudest of all.\n\nProudly Arthur set forth upon the King's errand, with the magic glass in\nhis pocket, and the butterfly-net over his shoulder. A number of merry\nfellows followed him from the court to see the issue of his mad\nadventure. For they thought there would be a thing to laugh at ere the\nend of the matter. They jested with Arthur and gibed pleasantly at him.\nBut he answered them gayly and kept his temper, for he knew that they\nmeant no harm.\n\n[Illustration: SHE LOOKED BAD-TEMPERED]\n\nBut with them journeyed one of a different sort. And this was Oscar, a\nburly ruffian, whose joy was in evil, and who followed Arthur hoping for\na chance to rob him, since he seemed a fool who had some precious\ntreasure in his wallet, which he was forever handling. Him Arthur did\nnot like, and he watched Oscar, but had no words with him.\n\n\n\nV. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART II\n\nAfter a time, Arthur and his band came to the town of Hushby, and were\nreceived with wonder; for the people thought them all mad, especially\nArthur, with his butterfly-net and his boast to slay the Dragon. But\nthey treated him gratefully, as one who sought to be their deliverer,\nalbeit shaking their heads over his small stature and slender strength.\n\nArthur slept that night at the inn, intending to seek the Dragon on the\nmorrow. And about the inn, on benches, on the curbs of Hushby streets,\nand under the trees, slept the merry jesters who had followed Arthur\nfrom the King. And Oscar thought to rob Arthur while he slept; but he\nwas prevented.\n\nIn the night came the Dragon down from his cave in the mountain, and\nrushing up the village street nearly caught Oscar as he was climbing in\nat the window of the inn. Oscar fled barely in time. But the Dragon\ncaught and ate in one mouthful two of the merry band of jesters, so that\nthey jested no longer. Then there was a great outcry and panic. But\nArthur slept soundly through it all, dreaming of the Princess, and how\nfair she would be when he had made her his wife and had magicked her\nwith the glass.\n\nIn the morning bright and early Arthur came down to table. He found the\nlandlord and all the people white and trembling.\n\n\"Oh, sir!\" cried Mine Host in a whisper. \"Behold, the Dragon has\ndescended from the mountain in the darkness and has eaten two of the\nKing's men this night. His appetite is whetted, and we hear him roaring\nafar off. It is a sign that he will soon again make another descent upon\nus. In the name of St. George, haste to save us!\"\n\nArthur listened and heard the far-off thunder of the loathly worm. But\nhe did not tremble. He only drew himself up to his last inch and\nfrowned, fingering the magic glass in his wallet.\n\n\"First will I breakfast,\" he said. \"And then will I go forth to rid you\nof this pest. Bring on the morning meal.\"\n\nWhen he had eaten heartily, even to the last crumb, Arthur arose and\ntook his butterfly-net in hand.\n\n\"Farewell, noble youth!\" cried Mine Host, with tears in his eyes. For\nArthur had paid his score generously, and the landlord did not expect to\nsee the little fellow again. The landlord's fair daughter, Margot, stood\nweeping, with the corner of her apron to her eyes. For she admired the\nbrave lad mightily. She was a very little maid, no taller than Arthur's\nshoulder, and he looked at her kindly when he saw her weep.\n\n\"What a fair, sweet maid!\" he said to himself. \"If it were not for the\nKing's daughter, I would choose her for my Lady, and ask her to give me\nthe blue ribbon from her hair to wear in my cap. But that may not be. I\nmust win glory for the King's big daughter.\"\n\nHe patted Margot on the head and said debonairly: \"Farewell! And have a\ngoodly dinner ready against my return. For I shall bring with me a\nDragon's appetite.\"\n\nSo he spoke, jesting upon the terrible subject. Margot wept harder than\never, and his other hearers shuddered. Some of the people followed him\nafar off. But when, nearer and nearer, they heard the Dragon's roars\nshaking the hills, they turned about and fled back to the village,\nleaving Arthur to go his way alone.\n\nArthur was not afraid. He strode on manfully until he came to the valley\nwhich led up the mountain where the Dragon lived. And as he strode he\nwhistled. Presently there was a roar and a rumble and a rattle,   and\nArthur stopped whistling. Nearer and nearer it came, and at last, down\nfrom the rocks writhed the terrible Dragon himself. And he was far worse\nto look upon than Arthur had imagined.\n\nHe was as big as twenty elephants, and he was green, covered with\nshining scales. His eyes glowed like the head-lights of two engines, and\nrevolved horribly in his head. Steam and fire belched from his huge\nmouth, and he snapped his long, sharp teeth disgustingly. He was a\nterrifying sight as he writhed toward Arthur. Dreadfully he roared,\nlashing right and left with his tail, which uprooted the trees and\nbushes and dislodged the rocks on either hand till they came tumbling\ndown in an avalanche. His hot breath scorched everything about him, and\nArthur began to feel faint by reason of the poison in it. But he stood\nquite still, waiting for the Dragon, and fingering his magic glass. It\nwas to be a mighty experiment.\n\nArthur waited until the Dragon was only a few yards away. Then he put\nthe glass to his eye and stared hard at the beast; stared, and stared,\nand stared.\n\nSuch rudeness made the Dragon very angry. He roared louder than ever and\ncame rushing toward Arthur at redoubled speed. But behold! As Arthur\ngazed at him the creature began to grow smaller and smaller. First he\nwas no bigger than an elephant, though still terrible. Then he shrank to\nthe size of a crocodile; then of a lion; and finally, when he was only a\nfew feet away, he was no bigger than a cat, snarling and spitting\nfiercely as ever.\n\nBy this time the Dragon began to see that something was wrong. He did\nnot know that he himself was changed, but it seemed to him that Arthur\nhad swelled. It seemed to him that Arthur was a terrible giant; and, for\nthe first time in his five thousand years of life, the Dragon was\nafraid!\n\nSuddenly he turned tail and began to run away, all the while growing\nlittler and littler in quite a ridiculous fashion. But Arthur was after\nhim valiantly. Now the Dragon was no bigger than a lizard, making a\nfunny squeak as he wriggled through the bushes. His eyes shone like tiny\nlucifer matches, and his mouth smoked like a cigarette. But for this it\nwould have been hard to see him as he scuttled through the moss and\nunder the ferns, trying to escape from Arthur's terrible eye.\n\nAt last Arthur saw that it was high time to lay aside the magic glass,\nunless he wished the Dragon to escape by \"going out\" altogether, which\nwould never do. For he must take the creature back to the King.\n\nNow was seen the use of the butterfly-net which Arthur had brought all\nthe way from Kisington. With this in his right hand Arthur chased the\nabsurd little Dragon under a stone, and finally threw it over the\nwriggling body, just as one would catch an insect. Hurrah! There was the\ncreature tangled in the net, hissing as loudly as a locust. The terrible\nDragon of Hushby was caught!\n\nArthur took from his wallet a reel of thread and tied the Dragon\nsecurely, so that he might not escape. And then, chuckling to himself,\nhe strode back to Hushby pulling the Dragon behind him, just as a little\nboy drags a toy horse by a string. It was a very funny sight!\n\nWhen he drew near the inn, Margot ran out to meet him with tears of joy\nin her eyes, for she had been watching for him all this time. Then all\nthe other people came running out, and they cheered lustily when they\nsaw that Arthur was quite unharmed.\n\n\"But what of the Dragon?\" they said.\n\n\"This of the Dragon!\" cried Arthur, drawing from behind him the\nstruggling creature. \"Here is the famous Terror of Hushby. Behold what I\nhave done to him!\"\n\nFolk could scarce believe their eyes. This wriggling little lizard,\ncould he really be their famous Dragon? Then they saw his tiny, fiery\neyes, and the smoke coming from his funny little mouth; and they knew it\nmust be a really, truly Dragon. A great silence fell upon them, and\nevery one looked at Arthur in awe. They believed that he must be a\nwizard who had magicked the Dragon of Hushby. But after that they fell\nto rejoicing, because now no longer had they anything to fear. Arthur\nhad become the hero of Hushby.\n\nThey set him on a seat and carried him on their shoulders around the\nvillage, with singing and shouting and huzzaing. And the Dragon went\nwith him, spitting and hissing and lashing his absurd little scaly tail\ninside a cage made of fine wire. Arthur enjoyed all this greatly. But\nespecially he enjoyed the eyes of little Margot, which followed him,\nfull of admiration. And he said to himself, \"It is a fine thing to be a\nhero. But I wish I had not asked for the King's daughter as my reward. I\ncould choose better now!\"\n\nWhen night came Arthur slept once more at the inn, with the Dragon in\nhis little cage beside the bed. Arthur slept soundly, because he was\nhappy and his heart was honest. But the conquered Dragon did not sleep.\nYou see, his conscience was bad,--he had eaten so many poor and\ndeserving persons. And that gives the worst kind of indigestion.\n\nThere was another who did not sleep. And this was Oscar, the wicked. He\nhad seen the Dragon when Arthur showed him to the people, and he knew\nthat the strange little beast was a treasure worth far more than gold or\njewels. For there was not another like it in the whole world. He meant\nto steal the miniature Dragon and carry it to a far land, where he could\nexhibit it in a museum and gain much wealth and honor. Of course, Oscar\nmeant also to claim that this was a young Dragon which he had taken in a\nbrave struggle with its parents, whom Oscar had killed. In that way, he\nwould become a famous hero.\n\nIn the dead of night, when all the inn was quiet, Oscar softly climbed\nup the trellis to the window of the room where Arthur slept. In the\ndarkness two tiny red spots showed him where the Dragon writhed and\nwriggled restlessly. Stealthily Oscar reached out his hand to take the\nDragon. But when he did so the Dragon gave a hiss which he meant should\nshake the house, but which really was no louder than the chirp of a\ncricket. It was loud enough, however, to waken Arthur. The hero sprang\nfrom the bed to guard his treasure.\n\nOscar drew his dagger and rushed upon Arthur. But Arthur had been\ncareful to sleep with his hand upon his trusty weapon. Swiftly he put\nthe magic glass to his eye and looked at Oscar. And lo! the wicked man\nshared the Dragon's fate. Gradually he shrank and shrank, and though he\nstruck fiercely with his dagger it was of little moment; for Oscar was\nsoon but two inches high, and his dagger's prick was like that of a pin,\nwhich made Arthur laugh.\n\nArthur was merciful, and did not put him out entirely, as he could\neasily have done. Dropping the glass from his eye he picked up in his\nthumb and finger the little fellow, struggling like a beetle, and put\nhim under an overturned pint-pot for safe keeping. There Oscar remained\nuntil morning, a restless neighbor of the restless Dragon.\n\nBut Arthur said to himself, \"I have used the magic glass twice. I must\nbe careful, for it can be used only once more before its virtue fades;\nand that chance must be saved to make my Princess little, since, alas! I\nmust marry her and not dear Margot.\" Then Arthur went back to bed and\nslept soundly until morning.\n\nOn the morrow Arthur said nothing about this night's event to Mine Host\nnor to the admiring crowd who came to see him set forth on his\ntriumphant journey to the King. He tied Oscar with thread and put him\ninto his wallet, where the wicked fellow snarled and scolded in a chirp\nthat no one could hear. As for the Dragon, Arthur fastened a tiny gold\nchain about his neck and secured it to his doublet, so that the creature\ncould crawl up and down his shoulder but could not get away. He looked\nlike one of the little chameleons which ladies sometimes wear; though\nwhy they like such unhappy living ornaments I cannot tell.\n\n\n\nVI. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART III\n\nAmid hurrahs and blessings and a rain of flowers, Arthur said farewell\nto Margot, who loved him, and to Hushby, which he had delivered from the\nTerror; and once more he journeyed to the King. But this time he went as\na hero, whose fame had traveled before him.\n\nThe King sent heralds and soldiers to meet him, and a golden chariot to\nbring him to the city. When Arthur reached the palace he found a great\nbanquet prepared, and the King himself came to welcome him and led him\nto the place of honor. But the Princess Agnes was not there.\n\nAs for the Dragon, every one was mad with delight over the wonderful\nlittle creature. When the King saw him he laughed so that his crown\nnearly fell into the soup. He delighted to tickle the Dragon's tail and\nhear him spit and hiss like a little tea-kettle. He liked the Dragon\nmuch better in this small edition, for he was more conveniently handled.\nThey placed the Dragon's cage in the center of the table, where every\none could see him, and the Dragon glared fiercely with his little red\neyes, but no one was afraid. How times had changed since this was the\nTerror of Hushby!\n\nThen the King said: \"Brave Arthur, this Dragonet is the choicest\ntreasure of my kingdom. I will keep him in a cage of gold beside my\nthrone, and strangers will come from the ends of the world to see him.\nIt will make my reign famous for all time, and I am very grateful to\nyou. You are a clever fellow, and perhaps, since you have tamed a\nDragon, you can tame my daughter as no one else has been able to do,--\nnot even the late Queen or myself. Now, then, to keep my promise. What\nho, heralds! Lead forth the maid.\"\n\nThe heralds blew a joyous blast on their trumpets and went to fetch the\nPrincess Agnes. Arthur found himself thinking of little Margot at the\ninn, and how sadly she had looked after him when he went away. But he\nknew that, being a hero, he must accept the responsibilities of that\nposition and marry the Princess. He felt nervously in his wallet for the\nmagic glass, for he said to himself:\n\n\"Since I must marry this giantess, between whom and me is little love,\nlet me be sure that I can make her small like myself; else there will be\nno happiness in my family. As soon as we are wed I will stare at the big\ngirl until she shrinks into the proper size, as did Oscar and the\nDragon.\"\n\nArthur felt into the corners of his wallet for the magic glass--but it\nwas not there! Hurriedly he searched again. It was gone! What was to be\ndone? Must he, then, marry the giant girl and be a slave to her cruel\ntemper all his life? Horrible thought! What had become of the glass?\nSuddenly he remembered Oscar, who had also been put into the wallet.\nOscar likewise was gone!\n\nArthur saw what had happened. With his little dagger Oscar had cut the\nthreads which bound him and had escaped, taking the magic glass with\nhim.\n\n\"What makes your face so pale, brave Arthur?\" asked the King jokingly.\n\"Is it the thought of your dainty little bride?\"\n\nEven as Arthur opened his lips to answer, there came a shrill cry from\nbeneath his very nose. Looking down he saw Oscar standing on the table\nand peering over his beaker of wine. In both arms he held the magic\nglass, and he was turning its shining eye upon Arthur himself.\n\n\"Revenge!\" cried the little fellow, fiercely. \"Revenge! I have learned\nhis secret. I will gaze him smaller and smaller, until he goes out.\nNothing can save him!\"\n\nBefore Arthur could move, Oscar pressed his face to the glass and began\nto stare as through a window, his malicious eyes fixed upon Arthur's\nface. With horror Arthur waited to feel himself shrink. He looked about\nfearfully at the other guests, expecting to see them appear to swell\ninto giants as he himself grew tiny. He stared at Oscar again, who\nshould now seem larger than himself.\n\nBut what was this? Nothing happened. The guests were staring\nopen-mouthed with surprise, but they were of the usual size, Oscar was\nstill a tiny dwarf. Arthur rubbed his eyes and looked again. Still\nnothing happened. The glass seemed to have lost its magic!\n\nSuddenly, Arthur saw what it meant. The magic of the glass was to last\nonly for three trials. Once, before he knew its worth, he had wasted it\nupon the spider, the rat, and the singing bird. Once the Dragon had felt\nits power. Its third and last spell had turned Oscar into a midget. Now\nits virtue was gone. It was but a piece of ordinary crystal, and Oscar's\nwicked plan was foiled!\n\nWith a squeal of rage Oscar threw the glass crashing upon the floor, and\nstamped his foot, which made everybody laugh. It was as if a tiny mouse\nhad stamped.\n\nThe King stretched out his hand and took up the little fellow curiously.\n\"What is this strange insect?\" he asked. \"Your Majesty,\" said Arthur,\n\"he is Oscar, a villain who seeks to mischief everybody. I have punished\nhim as I punished the Dragon, because he tried to rob me of my most\nprecious treasure. He can do no more harm, I think.\"\n\n\"Oscar!\" said the King. \"Indeed, I know him well. More than once has he\ndone evil in my city, and I have long meant to punish him. You are a\nclever fellow to handle him so tactfully. And now, we will dub him\n'Companion of the Dragon.' He, too, shall have a little cage of gold and\nshall live with the Dragon for his neighbor. A quaint pair they, Arthur!\nI thank you for them. But where is my daughter, and why does she delay?\"\n\nWith horror Arthur heard these words. He had forgotten the Princess.\nAlas! The glass had lost its power. How then was he to magic her and\nmake her small, as he had hoped to do? How was he to tame this terrible\nbig girl and make her a nice little wife? Arthur wished that he had\nnever set out to be a hero; he awaited the approach of his bride with\nterror far greater than he had felt in the Dragon's glen.\n\nPresently the heralds came back to the King, and their faces were very\ngrave. \"Your Majesty,\" they said, \"we cannot bring the Princess. She has\ngone; she has fled from the Kingdom with the first royal coachman, who\nwas a handsome young giant after her own heart. Even now they must be\nfar beyond the border of the neighboring Kingdom. She was heard to say\nthat she would have no dwarf for a husband, however great a hero he\nmight be. And when she knew what had happened to the Dragon of Hushby,\nshe was afraid.\"\n\nThere was silence in the banquet hall. Then the King struck a blow on\nthe table with his fist that made the Dragon hop and hiss nervously,\nwhile Oscar fell over and bumped his head on a salt cellar. \"Well,\" said\nthe King, \"so be it! She was an ill-tempered jade, and I could do\nnothing with her. You are well rid of her, brave Arthur. But how can I\namend this insult to your dignity? Ask of me whatever you choose, and it\nwill not be enough.\"\n\nNow, instead of looking sad, Arthur's face was shining with joy at his\nnarrow escape. \"Your Majesty,\" he said, \"I ask no amend. The lady had a\nright to her choice, and I hope she may have a giant happiness. Since\nthis royal marriage may not be for me, I must look elsewhere. But I have\nhad enough of adventure and of magic, and I shall now retire into\nprivate life.\"\n\n\"Some reward you must have, nevertheless,\" said the King. \"You shall\nretire nobly. Arise, Sir Arthur! I make you Knight of the Dragon, Lord\nof the Hushby Marches, and Earl of Kisington. Moreover, whomsoever and\nwheresoever you choose to wed, I myself will attend the nuptials and\nwill bestow upon the bride a countess's crown of diamonds. Long live the\nhero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!\"\n\n\"Long live the hero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!\" echoed all the\nguests. The Dragon hissed spitefully and lashed out with his tail, but\nno one paid any attention to him. Oscar, sulking with elbows on knees,\ngroaned squeakily. But no one paid any attention to him either.\n\nEverybody was thinking of Arthur, and how wonderfully he had become a\nhero. But Arthur himself was thinking of little Margot at the inn, and\nhow sweet her face would look under the coronet of a countess. And\nArthur grinned happily.\n\n\n\nVII. BARGAIN\n\nYou must not suppose that Harold read this whole story to the besieging\nKing without pause.  When he reached the end of the first part of the\ntale, Harold closed the red-and-gold volume and looked up.\n\n\"Go on!\" urged the Red King. \"Why do you stop, boy?\"\n\n\"It is the end of the volume,\" said Harold.\n\nRed Rex frowned. \"Surely, not the end of the tale!\" he cried. \"Why, you\nhave stopped short in the middle! That Oscar was up to some trick, I\nknow. I want to hear what happened next.\"\n\n\"I am sorry, Your Majesty,\" repeated Harold. \"It is the end of the\nvolume. The rest of the tale is told in another book.\"\n\nThe Red King's eyes blazed with anger. \"Why did you not bring the other\nbook with you?\" he roared.\n\n\"I was not sure that Your Majesty would like the tale,\" said Harold.\n\"Besides, they will allow one to take from the library but one book at a\ntime from a set of volumes.\"\n\n\"Then you must return and get the next volume immediately,\" commanded\nRed Rex. \"I must know what happened to Arthur in his quest of the\nDragon. Take the flag of truce and go back to Kisington; and let it not\nbe long ere you return!\"\n\n\"I am sorry, Your Majesty,\" said Harold, \"but it is too late to take out\nanother book to-day. The rules of the library are very strict.\"\n\n\"Now, did any one ever hear anything so absurd as this!\" thundered the\nRed King, stamping like a bad-tempered child. \"What is a mere library,\nforsooth, to have rules which I may not break?\"\n\n\"You have rules for your army, do you not?\" suggested Harold.\n\n\"I should say, verily!\" growled Red Rex; \"strict, stern rules.\"\n\n\"Well, a library is an army of books,\" answered Harold; \"a peaceful army\nintended to help people and to make them happy; not to kill them. Our\nnoble Librarian, who is general of a mighty army of books, must have\nrules as stern and strict to keep his army useful and efficient. If Your\nMajesty desires the rest of the tale you must wait until to-morrow.\"\n\n\"I will destroy the whole town first!\" roared the angry King.\n\n\"Then you will never learn the end of the tale,\" retorted Harold.\n\nIt looked as if Harold were in great danger, in spite of the flag of\ntruce. Red Rex stormed and ranted, and his soldiers stood ready with\ntheir weapons to do whatever he should bid them. But after a while the\nwarrior's wrath somewhat calmed itself, and shortly he began to chuckle\nnoisily.\n\n\"True!\" he said. \"If I destroy the library I shall not know the end of\nthat tale. That would be a calamity! Well, it is now too late to resume\nthe siege to-day. I may as well continue the truce until to-morrow. But\nsee that you return early in the morning, with the rest of the tale.\"\n\nOnce more Harold shook his head. \"I must go to Church to-morrow\nmorning,\" he replied. \"It is Sunday, you know. Surely, you do not fight\non Sundays, Your Majesty?\"\n\nThe Red King looked at him sideways. \"I had forgotten Sunday,\" he said.\n\"I have mislaid my calendar. Now, you remind me,--no, I suppose not. No,\nI do not fight on Sundays.\"\n\n\"I thought not!\" said Harold, relieved. \"It would not be quite knightly,\nwould it? I will return to-morrow afternoon, as soon as I have had my\ndinner; and then we will go on with the story of the Dragon of Hushby.\nGood day, Your Majesty!\"\n\n\"Good day!\" growled Red Rex, watching him march away between the files\nof soldiers. \"Youngster!\" he called after the boy, \"be sure you bring\nback the right volume.\"\n\nHarold waved his hand in assent.\n\nNow, when Harold told the Librarian and the other Leading Citizens what\nhe had done, they were greatly pleased; for they saw that their city was\nsafe for at least eighteen hours, while their mounted messenger went\nspeeding to King Victor. Harold's chums Robert and Richard were so\nexcited they could not sleep that night. Harold's mother was as proud as\na peacock when he told the story to her; though it was with some dread\nthat she looked forward to his return on the morrow into the camp of the\nfierce besieger. But Harold said:--\n\n\"I shall be quite safe, Mother. Never fear! Red Rex is too much\ninterested in my story to hurt me. When he forgets war he is a different\nman. He is almost pleasant, Mother!\"\n\n\"What a stupid King he must be to choose war for his pleasure!\" said\nthe mother. \"But suppose he cannot wait for to-morrow afternoon? Suppose\nhe should decide to take the city and win the library for himself, so\nthat he can read all the books at his leisure. What then?\n\n\"Mother,\" said Harold, \"I believe Red Rex has no joy in reading for\nhimself; no more than you have,--though he may not have your excuse.\"\n\n\"La la!\" cried the mother. \"What a King is that who has no key to the\ntreasury of books! You are richer than he, my son. With all his armies,\nyou are more powerful than he, my dear son!\"\n\nOn the Sunday, after dinner, Harold's friends escorted him to the gate;\nand as before he went to the Red King under the flag of truce. In his\nhand he bore the second volume of red-and-gold. Red Rex received him\nsulkily, yet with a certain eagerness.\n\n\"Well, boy, have you brought the book?\" he asked. \"I have been thinking\nof that tale all the night long, all this morning long. Come, let us\nhear what happened next to Arthur and the Dragon.\" Then Harold began the\nsecond part of the tale. Red Rex kept him at it, and would not let him\nrest until he had quite finished both the second and the third parts of\nthe story; though Harold had meant to gain time by reading only the\nformer on that occasion.\n\nBut when he had quite finished, Red Rex sat up, rubbing his hands\ntogether. \"It is a good story!\" he declared. \"That Arthur was a brave\nfellow. I am glad I did not destroy your library until I had heard about\nhim. But now I can return to the siege without delay. I give you\nwarning, my boy! Do not go back to that doomed town. Desert those\npeace-lovers and come with me to be a fighter, like Arthur.\"\n\n\"Arthur fought wicked Dragons, not men,\" said Harold. \"I would not\ndesert if I could. I, too, am a peace-lover, and there is too much in\nKisington from which I could not part. Besides, I must return this book\nsafe and sound to the library, even if it is to be destroyed soon after,\nor I shall be fined. My poor mother can ill afford to pay fines for me!\"\n\n\"But there will be no one left to fine you,\" retorted the Red King. \"The\nwhole city will be destroyed,--the library, the Librarian, the Lord\nMayor, and all! What a ruination it will be!\" He rubbed his hands\ngleefully.\n\nHarold shuddered, but he was firm. \"What a pity!\" he said. \"You really\nshould know our Librarian. And there are still many fine books which\nYour Majesty ought to hear. You will never know them if they be\ndestroyed now; their duplicates exist nowhere.\"\n\n\"There are none so good as the tale you have just finished, I warrant!\"\ncried Red Rex.\n\n\"Oh, many far better than that, Your Majesty!\" said Harold. \"Indeed,\nthat is one of the least important.--Did you ever hear of the\nWonder-Garden, Your Majesty?\"\n\n\"The Wonder-Garden!\" echoed the Red King; \"no, that I never did. What\nmeans a 'wonder-garden,' boy?\"\n\n\"Ah, that you will never know, for it is another of the secret tales of\nKisington,\" said Harold. \"It is all about a Mermaid, and a Lord Mayor's\nson, and a fair stranger maiden, who--now I bethink me--might be from\nyour own land across the border. The Wonder-Garden was hers.\"\n\n\"A maid from my land, with a wonder-garden!\" mused Red Rex. \"I would\nfain learn of her. I dare say there is good fighting in this tale also.\nCome, boy; will you read me that tale to-morrow?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Majesty; if you will give your kingly word that the truce\nshall last until the story be finished,\" replied Harold.\n\n\"Ho-hum!\" the Red King hesitated. He mumbled and he grumbled; he winked\nand he blinked. But at last he said grudgingly, \"Well, I promise. No\nsoldier shall advance, no weapon shall be discharged until I have heard\nthe tale of your Wonder-Garden.\"\n\nWith this promise, Harold joyfully hastened back to the beleaguered\ncity. Kisington was safe for another day! The Lord Mayor and the\nLibrarian shook hands and went to congratulate Harold's mother.\n\nAs for Red Rex, he dreamed that Harold had bewitched him with a\nred-and-gold book; as perhaps he had done. Were not Richard and Robert\nat that moment clapping Harold on the shoulder and declaring that he was\nindeed a \"Book-Wizard\"? This is the tale which Harold read to Red Rex on\nthe following day; the story of _The Wonder-Garden_.\n\n\n\nVIII.  THE WONDER-GARDEN\n\nThere never were seen such beautiful gardens as bloomed in\nKisington-by-the-Sea. Not only every chateau and villa had its parterres\nspread with blooming rugs of all colors; but each white-washed cottage,\nevery thatched hut, boasted its garden-plot of dainty posies. Each had\nsome quaint device or some special beauty which distinguished it from\nthe others. For there was great horticultural rivalry in\nKisington-by-the-Sea.\n\nNow this was all because Hugh, the Lord Mayor, who was very fond of\nflowers, had offered a prize for the prettiest garden in the town. The\nLord Mayor himself lived on a hill in the center of the town, in the\nmidst of the most beautiful garden of all. It flowed down the hillside\nfrom the summit in ripples of radiant color,--roses and lilies, pinks\nand daffodils, larkspur and snapdragon. All the flowers of the land were\nthere, and many foreigners beside.\n\nThrough the garden wound the yellow driveway by which the Lord Mayor\npassed in his golden coach. He loved to drive slowly down this road,\nsniffing the fragrance of his flowers; and then out through the streets\nof the town, observing the beautiful gardens on every hand,--the result\nof his own love for flowers.\n\nWhen the Lord Mayor saw all the fair maidens down on their knees in the\nflower-beds, watering the buds with their little green water-pots,\nnipping off dead leaves, pulling up scrawny weeds, coaxing the delicate\ncreepers to climb, he would rub his hands and say:--\n\n\"Ah, this is good! This is very good indeed! We shall have the most\nbeautiful town in the world, blossoming with flowers, and the most\nbeautiful maids in the world, blossoming with health and sweetness like\nthe flowers they tend. It will be hard to tell which is the fairer, the\nmaidens or the flowers. Hey! Is it not so, my son?\"\n\nThen he would chuckle and poke in the ribs the young man who rode beside\nhim.\n\nThe Lord Mayor's son was very good to look upon; tall and fair, with\ncurly golden locks and eyes as brown as the heart of a yellow daisy.\nWhen he drove through the town with the Lord Mayor, the maidens down on\ntheir knees in their garden-plots would pause a moment from their chase\nof a wriggling worm or a sluggish slug to look after the golden coach\nand sigh gently. Then they would turn back to their Bowers more eagerly\nthan before. For there was the prize!\n\n[Illustration:  THE MAIDENS WOULD PAUSE TO LOOK AFTER THE GOLDEN COACH]\n\nYou see, the Lord Mayor's son was himself part of the prize to be won.\nThe Lord Mayor had vowed that Cedric, his son, should marry the girl who\ncould show by late summer the most beautiful garden in\nKisington-by-the-Sea. Moreover, he promised to build a fine palace to\noverlook this prize garden, and there the young couple should live happy\never after, like any Prince and Princess. And this was why the maids\nworked so hard in the gardens of Kisington-by-the-Sea, and why the\nflowers blossomed there as no flowers ever blossomed before.\n\nNow one day the Lord Mayor drove through the village in his golden coach\nand came out upon the downs near the seashore. And there, quite by\nitself, he found a little cottage which he had never before seen: a tiny\ncottage which had no sign of a garden anywhere about it,--only a few\nflowers growing in cracked pots on the window-sills, and on the bench\njust outside the door.\n\n\"What!\" cried the Lord Mayor, stopping the coach. \"What does this mean?\nThere should be a garden here. I must look to the reason for this\ncontempt of my offer.\" And he jumped down from the coach and rapped\nsharply upon the door.\n\nPresently the door opened, and there stood a girl, all in rags, but so\nbeautiful that the Lord Mayor's son, who was sitting languidly in the\ngolden coach, shut his eyes as one does when a great light shines\nsuddenly in one's face.\n\n\"Hey!\" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. \"Why have you no garden, girl?\nHave you no pride? Do you not dream to win the prize which I offer?\"\n\n\"I am a stranger,\" said the maiden timidly. \"No one has told me of a\nprize. What may it be, my Lord?\"\n\n\"It is a prize worth trying for,\" said the Lord Mayor. \"The hand of my\nson there, and the finest palace in the land for the mistress of the\nprize garden. Does that thought please you, girl? If not, you are\ndifferent from all the other maidens.\"\n\nThe girl lifted her eyes to the golden coach and met the gaze of Cedric\nfixed upon her. \"I love flowers,\" she said. \"I had once a little garden\nin my old home. But now I am too poor to buy plants and bulbs and\nseedlings. How, then, shall I make a garden to please Your Lordship?\"\n\n\"I will send you plants and bulbs and seedlings,\" said the Lord Mayor's\nson, leaning forward eagerly. \"You must make haste, for September will\nsoon be here, when the gardens will be judged.\"\n\n\"Thank you, fair sir,\" said the girl. \"I shall love my garden dearly, if\nyou will help me.\"\n\nNow when the Lord Mayor and his son had returned home, Cedric hastened\nto keep his promise. For Gerda was the fairest maid in Kisington-by-the\nSea, and already he loved her so dearly that he hoped she would win the\nprize and become his wife. He sent her the most beautiful flowers that\nhe could find, and transplanted from his father's garden its choicest\nseedlings; he brought shrubs from the city market.\n\nThe meadow between Gerda's cottage and the sea was transformed as if by\nmagic, and became a mass of rare and lovely flowers. The choicest\nforeign plants, the gayest native blooms, the shyest wild posies, all\nwere at home in Gerda's lovely garden over which the sea-breeze blew.\nBut Gerda herself was the fairest flower of them all. She watched and\ncared for her garden tenderly, and like the garden she grew fairer every\nday, she was so happy. She did not know how the other gardens grew, for\nshe did not go to see. But sometimes the Lord Mayor's son came,\ndisguised as a gardener, to see how the flowers fared. And he said that\nshe had the most beautiful garden in all Kisington-by-the-Sea, and he\nhoped that she would win the prize; which was very encouraging.\n\nNo one else knew about Gerda's garden. It was far from town, and no one\ndreamed that a stranger had come to live there. Besides, the neighbors\nwere so busy, each with her own affairs, that they had no time to go\nabout or ask questions, or gossip; which was a good thing.\n\nNo, I am wrong. One person had discovered the open secret. In a villa\nnot far from the Lord Mayor's house dwelt a Countess who was very rich\nand proud. Until Gerda came she had boasted the finest garden in\nKisington, after the Lord Mayor's, made by a whole army of gardeners\nwhom she kept at her command. She was quite sure of winning the prize,\nand it made her very gay, though she cared nothing at all about flowers.\nShe left all the care of her garden to her gardeners and scarcely ever\nwandered down its lovely walks. But she longed to marry the Lord Mayor's\nson and live in a palace. It was the palace that she coveted as a prize,\nand the honor of being the Lord Mayor's daughter; to ride in the golden\ncoach!\n\nShe cared no more about Cedric himself than she did for her lovely\nflowers.\n\nOne day this Countess, who had very sharp eyes, spied the Lord Mayor's\nson, in his disguise, going past her villa with his arms full of curious\nflowers such as were never before seen in Kisington-by-the-Sea. And\nbecause she had unusually sharp eyes the Countess knew who he was.\n\"Aha!\" she said to herself. \"This is strange! Cedric is meddling with\nsome garden. I must look into this!\" Secretly she followed Cedric\nthrough the village and out to the seashore until he came to Gerda's\ngarden. And there she saw him walking with the fair stranger up and down\namong the flowers. The secret was discovered.\n\nThe Countess was a very wicked woman. When she looked over the\ntransformed meadow and saw the beautiful garden which Gerda had made,\nshe nearly died of rage. She knew at once that against this one her own\ngarden had no chance of winning the prize. She stamped her feet in\njealous fury and cried:--\n\n\"She shall not have the palace! She shall not ride in the golden coach!\nShe shall not marry the Lord Mayor's son! I will see that she shall\nnot!\"\n\nThe Countess stole home with wicked wishes in her heart and wicked plans\nin her head. The next day but one was the day of the award, so she had\nno time to lose. That night when every one was asleep she crept out of\nher villa and along the road by which she had followed the Lord Mayor's\nson, to Gerda's garden. Everything was quiet and peaceful. The flowers\nlooked very fair in the moonlight, breathing drowsy perfumes. But the\nwicked woman cared nothing at all for them. Taking a great pair of\nshears from her cloak she moved quickly in and out among the garden\nbeds, cutting and slashing the precious flowers and trampling them under\nfoot.\n\nWhen she had finished her cruel work, not a single bud lifted its head\nfrom the ruin.   The flower-beds looked as though a tempest had swept\nover them. Poor Gerda's garden was quite destroyed! The Countess\nchuckled as she hurried home through the night: \"We shall see now who\nwins the prize!\"\n\nThe next day Cedric thought that he would visit the garden of sweet\nGerda in which he had taken such an interest. Dressed in his gardener's\ngreen smock he went through the town, whistling happily as any yokel.\nBut when he reached the little cottage by the sea, he ceased to whistle.\nGerda was sitting upon the doorstone weeping bitterly.\n\n\"What is the matter, Gerda?\" asked Cedric anxiously, and he sought to\ncomfort her. She could only sob:--\n\n\"Oh! My dear garden! Oh! My poor flowers!\"\n\nWith a sinking heart Cedric ran to the garden close, and there he saw\nall the ruin that the wicked Countess had wrought.\n\n\"Alas! Who has done this?\" he cried. But Gerda could not tell.\n\nCedric's heart was nearly broken. For he loved Gerda so dearly that he\nthought he could not live if another should win the prize. To-morrow\nwould be the day that would determine his fate. What could they do?\nSuddenly he had an idea.\n\n\"Farewell, Gerda!\" he cried, and without another word he strode away.\n\nThen Gerda wept more bitterly than ever. She thought that the Lord\nMayor's son was angry with her because her garden was destroyed. This\nwas worse even than the loss of her flowers.\n\nBut Cedric was far from angry with her. He had gone away in order to\nthink and plan. He had one hope. He remembered that he had a friend who\nhad once promised to help him in his time of trouble. The time had come.\n\nThat very night when the moon rose over the water, Cedric went down to\nthe sea and stood upon a rock and recited this charm:--\n\n  \"Mermaid, Mermaid, rise from the sea!\n   I am in trouble. Hasten to me!\"\n\nHardly had he spoken the words when there was a little ripple in the\nwater at his feet, and a beautiful Mermaid appeared, clinging to the\nrock over which the waves dashed prettily in the moonlight. And she\nsaid:--\n\n\"Lord Mayor's son, you have spoken the charm which I taught you, and I\nhave come from the bottom of the sea. I have not forgotten how once a\ncruel fisherman caught me in his net, and how you had pity on me and\ntook me to the ocean and set me free. Then I promised to help you, if\never you should be in trouble. What is your grief, Lord Mayor's son?\"\n\nThen Cedric told her about Gerda's garden and its mishap. \"Ah! She must\nbe the sweet, ragged maid who used to sit upon the rocks and gaze down\ninto my ocean,\" said the Mermaid. \"She has a good heart and loves the\nsea. Early this morning I heard her weeping bitterly for her lost\nflowers and for you. She loves you dearly, Lord Mayor's son, and I love\nyou both. What shall I do to help you?\"\n\n\"Dear Mermaid,\" said Cedric eagerly, \"can you find out the cruel person\nwho has destroyed Gerda's garden? And can you restore the garden itself\nbefore to-morrow? I ask these two things of you.\"\n\n\"It is easy to find the jealous woman,\" said the Mermaid. \"Her you will\nknow at the right time. But the garden is another matter. However, I\nwill do my best for the two whom I love. And now, farewell!\" With that\nword she slid down the rocks, and in a little splash of spray vanished\ninto the sea.\n\n*****\n\nNow came the day when the Lord Mayor was to judge the gardens of\nKisington-by-the-Sea. In all the towers the bells were ringing merrily,\nand on every side the flowers and the fair maidens were blooming their\nbrightest. Through the town rode the Lord Mayor in his golden coach\ndrawn by six prancing white steeds, their necks wreathed with flowers;\nand behind followed a great rout of townsfolk, eager to see the gardens\njudged. In the Lord Mayor's coach sat Cedric by his father's side. He\nwas dressed all in white, as became a bridegroom, and in his hands he\ncarried a huge bouquet of white roses. His cheeks were white, too, for\nhe was anxious to know what this day should bring, and what maiden was\nto receive the bridal bouquet.\n\nThrough the town the merry procession moved, and stopped in turn before\neach garden, at the gate of which a sweet maid waited, her little heart\ngoing pit-a-pat beneath her prettiest gown. The Lord Mayor inspected\neach garden carefully, making notes in a little white-and-gold book. And\neach fair maiden gazed at the handsome Cedric and hoped that the Lord\nMayor was writing down her name to be his daughter-in-law!\n\nBut all the gardens were so beautiful that it seemed impossible to\nchoose between them. In each the Lord Mayor looked and looked, smiled\nand nodded,--\"Very good! Very good, indeed! Beautiful, beautiful,\nbeautiful! I am truly proud of the fair flowers and the fair maids of\nKisington-by-the-Sea. Surely, never such were seen before!\"\n\nThen he noted his little memorandum, made a low bow to the maiden, and\nmounting into the golden coach, whirled away to the next garden. At\nlast, when they had gone quite around the village, they came to the\nvilla of the wicked Countess. The crowd murmured admiringly. There was\nno doubt about it; hers was certainly the finest garden of all. When the\nLord Mayor saw the gay parterres and fountains, the shady alleys and\ncool grottoes, the wonderful flowers and shrubs growing luxuriantly\neverywhere, he clapped his hands with pleasure and said:--\n\n\"Ah! This is Paradise, indeed! Here surely we must look for our bride.\nCountess, I congratulate you!\"\n\nThe Countess was dressed in a most costly gown of white satin and\nvelvet, as though she were sure beforehand that she was to be the bride.\nShe arched her neck and smiled maliciously at the Lord Mayor's son, in\nwhose eyes was no love for her.\n\n\"I shall be proud, indeed, to ride in your golden coach!\" she said.\n\nCedric had grown very white, and he looked at the Countess with disgust.\nShe was so much less fair than Gerda, and her eyes so wicked! Must he\nmarry her, after all? Yes, unless the Mermaid had wrought a miracle in\nGerda's ruined garden. To that hope he still clung. \"Father,\" he said\nearnestly, \"before you judge that this lady has won the prize, remember\nthat there is one more garden to visit. Have you forgotten the stranger\nmaiden who lives beside the sea, and how you bade her make a garden as\nthe other maids were doing? Let us first go there, for she may be\nwaiting.\"\n\n\"Ho, ho!\" laughed the Lord Mayor; \"I had in truth forgotten the pretty\nbeggar. It is absurd to dream that she should have a garden worth\nvisiting after that of our Countess here. Yet we will go to see, and do\nher justice.\"\n\nThe Countess laughed shrilly. \"A beggar's garden!\" she cried. \"That\nmust, indeed, be a wondrous sight!\"\n\n\"Do you come with us, my lady,\" said the Lord Mayor politely. \"Sit here\nby my son's side in the Lord Mayor's coach. For I trow that here will\nsoon be your rightful place as his bride.\"\n\nNow it pleased the Countess to ride in the Lord Mayor's coach; and it\npleased her more that she was to see the shame of Gerda and the\ndisappointment of Cedric when Gerda's pitiful little garden should be\njudged. So with a great rustle of satin and lace she gave her hand to\nthe Lord Mayor and mounted proudly into the golden coach. But Cedric sat\nbeside her pale and silent, little like a happy bridegroom. With a\nsnapping of whips and tooting of horns off they went, rattling through\nthe streets of the town, out over the downs toward the sea.\n\nBehind them followed the townsfolk in a great crowd, wondering\nexceedingly whither the Lord Mayor was leading them. For they knew of no\ngarden here. Presently, with another flourish and a cracking of whips,\namid the barking of dogs and the shouts of little boys, the Lord Mayor's\ncoach drew up in front of the tiny cottage by the sea. And the people\nwondered more than ever. For there was no garden anywhere to be seen.\n\nThe Lord Mayor alighted, chuckling as if it were all a great joke, and\nhelped down the Countess, who was grinning maliciously. Last of all\nCedric descended and stood waiting while the Lord Mayor with his staff\nknocked three times upon the door.\n\nPresently the door opened, and there stood Gerda, dressed all in a gown\nof sea-green silk, with a string of pearls about her neck and a pink\ncoral wreath in her hair. She was so beautiful that all the people in\nthe crowd cried \"Oh!\" with a sound like the wind in the top of a pine\ntree, and the Lord Mayor himself fell back a step, staring in surprise.\nThe Countess turned saffron yellow and bit her lips with envy; but still\nshe smiled; for she knew what she had done to Gerda's garden.\n\nAs for Cedric, he stood and gazed as though his eyes were glued to fair\nGerda's face, until after a bashful silence of a moment she spoke.\n\n\"You have come to see my garden,\" she said. \"It is not like other\ngardens, but I think it is very beautiful. Will you come with me?\"\n\nShe led them around the cottage to the meadow beside the sea where once\nhad been the beautiful little garden which the Countess had destroyed.\nBut what was this? Where were the lawns and hedges and beds of flowers?\nWhere was the green grass? Gone! Over the spot lay a sheet of rippling\nwater, reflecting the Summer sky.\n\n\"What does this mean?\" said the Lord Mayor, turning sternly to Gerda. \"I\nask to see a garden, and you show me a pool of water. Girl, do you jest\nat the Lord Mayor?\"\n\n\"Nevertheless, this is my garden, sir,\" answered Gerda gently, \"and a\nfair garden I think you will find it, if you deign to look closely.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" said the Lord Mayor crossly, and \"Nonsense!\" sniffed the\nCountess with her nose in the air. But Cedric stepped forward with his\neyes shining, for he wanted justice done.\n\n\"Father,\" he begged, \"let us go nearer, as the maiden asks, and look at\nthis which she calls her garden. Mayhap we shall find something new to\nKisington-by-the-Sea.\"\n\nFor when Cedric saw how sweetly the maid was dressed in colors and\ntokens of the ocean, his heart leaped with hope that the Mermaid had in\nsome mysterious way redeemed her promise.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the Lord Mayor, frowning. \"Let us see what this\nfoolish whim betokens. Show us your garden, girl.\"\n\nDown the slope they went, followed by the gaping crowd which cast\ncurious looks upon Gerda as she walked by the side of the Lord Mayor's\nson. \"Tell me, what has happened, Gerda?\" he asked her, speaking low so\nthat no one else might hear.\n\n\"Last night,\" she whispered, \"I went to bed weeping for my lost flowers\nand my lost hope. But at midnight I was awakened by the roaring of the\nsea. It grew louder and louder, and at last a great wave seemed to burst\nover the sea-wall and come foaming up even to the cottage door. I was\nfrightened sorely. But in the midst of my terror I heard a soft voice\ncry:--\n\n'Fear not, gentle Gerda, and weep no more for your lost flowers. The\ngardeners of the sea have come to restore your garden. And there will be\na fine gown for you. Look for it upon the doorstone in the morning.\nFarewell!' That was all.\n\nThe sea ceased its roaring, and peacefully I fell asleep. In the morning\nI found upon the doorstone this green gown. And when I looked upon the\nplot where late my poor little garden bloomed, I saw this. Behold!\"\n\nAs she spoke they came to the edge of the pool. A chorus of wonder arose\nfrom the crowd. The Lord Mayor stood with hands raised gazing down into\nthe pool; and every one else was gazing too, with eyes of admiration.\n\nThe water was as clear as glass, and one could see to the very bottom of\nthe hollow which had once held Gerda's unlucky garden. Now the basin was\nfloored with polished mother-of-pearl, with beds and borders of colored\nshells in lovely patterns. There were lawns of many-hued ocean moss,\nbordered by shrubs of coral, blossoming in every form and size and\ncolor,--spikes and clusters, daisy-stars and bell shapes, all the\nvariety of a flower-garden. Sea-anemones and other living plants opened\nand shut their tender petals. Delicate sea-ferns like maiden-hair and\nflowering grasses grew upon rockeries of coral. Hedges of sea-weed,\ngreen and brown, yellow and pink, waved their fronds gently in the water\nas leaves do in the air. And to and fro among the branches of sea-trees\nmoved glittering shapes of gold and silver, pink and pale blue. These\nwere the rainbow fishes,--birds and butterflies of ocean, their delicate\nfins moving more gracefully even than wings can do.\n\nDear little sea-horses raced up and down the coral alleys, and luminous\nforms moved among the sea-weed, lighting the garden with living\nlanterns. Here and there were grottoes of coral and pretty arbors, and\nthe garden was thronged with a multitude of curious sea-creatures even\nthe names of which no man knows. For the gardeners of Cedric's friend\nthe Mermaid had scoured the ocean to find the rarest and most beautiful\nwonders which grow in a deep-sea garden, such as no mortal eye ever\nsees.\n\nAfter a time the Lord Mayor recovered breath to speak. \"Maiden,\" he\nsaid, \"however you came by this wondrous ocean-garden I do not care to\nask. It is enough that we have such a treasure in Kisington-by-the-Sea.\nAmong all our lovely gardens it is the fairest. Among all our curious\nflowers these living ones are rarest. I therefore judge that to you\nbelongs the prize.\"\n\nThen a great cheer arose from the border of the pool where the folk were\nbending eagerly to study the wonders in the waters below. Even the\nmaidens whose gardens had not won the prize cheered,--all except the\nCountess. She ground her teeth with rage, for she saw that her wicked\nplot had been in vain.\n\nThe Lord Mayor stepped forward and took Gerda's hand. \"Come hither, my\nson,\" he said, \"and take this fair stranger to be your bride. In this\nspot where her little cottage stands, I will build for you a beautiful\nvilla.\"\n\nWith a happy face Cedric took Gerda's hand in one of his, and with his\nother gave her the great bouquet of roses. \"I obey my father's wish,\" he\nsaid. He needed not to tell that it was his own wish, too.\n\nThereupon every one cheered again, waving caps and handkerchiefs, for no\none could help loving the beautiful pair and wishing them happiness.\nOnly the Countess stood silent and frowning, looking ugly as a goblin.\n\nWhen the shouting had ceased, Gerda stepped forward and spoke sweetly to\nthe people. \"Kind friends,\" she said, \"I am a stranger to your town, yet\nmy garden has been judged worthy of the prize. But I am sorry for the\nfair maidens who have so long and faithfully tended their lovely\nflowers. To me it seems that they also should have a reward. In my\ngarden grows a hedge of plants bearing precious fruit,--the pearl\noysters, which you see gaping with the white pearls in their mouths. I\nwould have each maid come and take one for her own.\"\n\nThere was great rejoicing and murmuring of thanks as the maidens came\nforward one by one and bent over the pool to choose each a precious\npearl. The Countess alone hung back. \"Come hither, Countess,\" said the\nLord Mayor, when he saw that all others had been rewarded save her only.\n\"Come hither and choose your pearl. You should, indeed, have the finest,\nfor your garden would have won the prize but for these sea-wonders by\nwhich it was outdone.\"\n\n\"Choose, fair lady,\" said Gerda, smiling kindly. But the Countess would\nnot come. \"I have pearls enough of my own,\" she snapped. \"I need no\ncharity from a beggar!\"\n\n\"What!\" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. \"Such words are not meetly\naddressed to my daughter-in-law. Nay, they show an evil heart,\nCountess!\"\n\n\"Say that she shall do this, Father,\" cried Cedric, stepping forward\neagerly, for he seemed to hear a secret whisper from the Mermaid\nprompting him; \"else we shall think that she was the wicked one who\ndestroyed another's garden in the hope of winning the prize herself.\"\n\nAt this challenge the Countess came forward sullenly to the edge of the\npool. To take the nearest pearl she had to bend low, until her face drew\nclose to the water. Suddenly, the watching crowd saw a flash and a\nsplash and heard a shrill scream. The Countess rose, shrieking horribly.\nA huge crab had fastened himself to her nose, and not easily could she\nbe freed from this unwelcome ornament! At last they tore away the crab,\nbut the tip of the Countess's nose was gone, and she wore a scar always,\neven to the end of her unhappy days.\n\nThis was the Mermaid's punishment for her cruel harm to Gerda's garden.\n\nBut Gerda and Cedric lived happily ever after in the beautiful villa\nwhich the Lord Mayor built for them on the edge of their wonder-garden\nbeside the sea. And sometimes the Mermaid herself came there to visit\nthem, and to bring them some new precious thing from the watery world\nwhere she dwelt.\n\n\n\nIX.  THE KING'S COAT OF ARMS\n\nThe Red King could not disguise his pleasure in the tale of the\nWonder-Garden, though he grumbled when he found there was to be no\nfighting in it. When Harold had finished reading the story, Red Rex\npatted him on the head and said gruffly,--\n\n\"Good, my boy! You do, indeed, read a tale as well as one would wish.\nBut tell me, now; in what part of Kisington is the place where this\nGerda had her Wonder-Garden? Is it far from here?\"\n\n\"Nay, not far from here,\" said Harold. \"About a mile from our library,\nby the sea, stands the villa where Gerda and the Lord Mayor's son lived\nhappily ever after. I could show Your Majesty the place, if you were not\nunfortunately at war with our city.\"\n\n\"I would fain see that place,\" said Red Rex thoughtfully. \"I have a\nfancy that Gerda, indeed, came from my land. I have heard a legend that\none of my great-great-grandfather's own sisters was stolen by the\ngypsies, and carried away to a far country. It might well be that she\nran away from those gypsies, and escaped to this Kingdom, and that it\nwas she whom the Lord Mayor found living lonely by the sea.\"\n\n\"It might well be so!\" said Harold. \"Oh, Your Majesty! How exciting!\nThen the Lady Anyse, who lives now at that villa, may be your own\nfar-off cousin.\"\n\n\"She may be, indeed,\" mused the Red King. \"What like is she, Harold?\"\n\n\"She is tall, and handsome, and has red hair like Your Majesty,\" said\nHarold. \"I have seen her often when I went to visit the Garden.\"\n\n\"The Garden?\" exclaimed Red Rex. \"Does the Wonder-Garden, then, still\nexist?\"\n\n\"Not quite the same as in the day of Gerda and Cedric,\" answered Harold,\n\"but yet a wonder-garden. It is called 'The Aquarium' now, and is one of\nthe public gardens of Kisington, given to the town by the will of Cedric\nand Gerda. The Lady Anyse has it under her care.\"\n\n\"Verily, I should like to visit it and see both its wonders and my\nlong-lost cousin,\" muttered the Red King.\n\n\"What a pity that you are making war upon our city!\" exclaimed Harold.\n\"There are so many fine things that cannot be while there is war.\"\n\n\"Yet war must be,\" answered Red Rex. \"And I must be at it straightway.\"\nHe rose and flourished his sword with a determined air.\n\n\"But at least you will spare the east of Kisington, where the\nWonder-Garden lay, and not fire gums or arrows in that direction?\"\nsuggested Harold, pointing eastward. The Red King followed the direction\nof his finger.\n\n\"Yes, that I will promise,\" said Red Rex, after a moment's hesitation.\n\"I promise that; lest otherwise I might injure my own blood royal.\nBecause I am King I must not forget that!\" He swelled his chest proudly.\n\n\"_Noblesse oblige_!\" murmured Harold. \"It was the motto of the Lion\nPassant.\"\n\n\"I know that motto well; and what of a lion passant?\" inquired Red Rex.\n\"A lion passant is one of the emblems in my own royal coat of arms!\"\n\n\"Then, Your Majesty has not heard the tale of the Lion Passant?\" asked\nHarold, feigning surprise. \"It is one of the best known in our land. You\nwill find your royal lion in the arms of our city of Derrydown; and\nthere is a tale to account for that.\"\n\nHarold began to smile as if the memory of the tale pleased him.\n\nRed Rex frowned. \"It is too late to hear that tale to-night,\" he\nmurmured.\n\n\"Yes, Your Majesty,\" agreed Harold. \"Besides, I cannot tell it by heart.\nI should have to get the book from our generous library. I can read it\nbetter; there is so much in the manner of the writing. It is a pity Your\nMajesty is in such a hurry to fight, or I might bring that book hither\nto-morrow and read you the pleasant tale.\"\n\nThe Red King fidgeted. \"I am losing time at a terrible rate!\" he\ngrowled. \"Think of what harm I might be doing! When have I wasted hours\nlike this, you wheedling boy?\"\n\n\"I do not think these hours are wasted. It is war that wastes,\" said\nHarold.\n\n\"Fudge!\" retorted Red Rex; \"we must have war. Was that lion a red lion,\nHarold?\"\n\n\"A red lion, Your Majesty,\" nodded Harold.\n\nThe Red King grew excited. \"I must, then, hear about him!\" he cried. \"It\nis my duty.--What ho, there!\" he shouted to his men who were making\nready to continue the siege. \"I have changed my mind. We will not fight\nfor another day. Take this boy back to the city, and proclaim continued\ntruce until he returns to us.\"\n\n\"Your Majesty is wise,\" said Harold with shining eyes. \"I think you will\nnot be sorry to hear the tale of the Lion Passant.\"\n\nSo the crisis was delayed for another day; and Kisington blessed Harold.\nThey made a feast at the poor widow's cottage from presents sent by the\nLeading Citizens. Richard and Robert sat at the head of the table, one\non each side of Harold, and all his other boy and girl friends sat down\nthe sides of the table, and he told them all about his adventure with\nthe besieging King. One and all begged him to let them go with him on\nthe following day. But this, of course, Harold could not promise. He was\nthe only one who could read well enough to charm the War-Lord. They all\nwished that they had learned to read as well as Harold.\n\nWhen on the morrow Harold returned to the Red King, this is the story\nwhich he read from one of the peaceful books of Kisington--the story of\n_The Lion Passant_.\n\n\n\nX.  THE LION PASSANT\n\nA long time ago, in one of the narrowest side-streets of Kisington,\nstood an old curiosity shop, full of strange things. It was a dark\nlittle den inside, so dark that the outer sunshine made the old shopman\nblink as he stood in the doorway talking with the stranger. The stranger\nwas a Medicine Man, and he had just sold a bottle of his famous Elixir\nof Life to the old shopkeeper.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said the Medicine Man, as he turned to go, \"you will find my\nMagic Elixir all that I claim it to be. It will bring back youth and\nbeauty to the aged. It will give sight to eyes that see not, hearing to\ndeaf ears, speech to the tongue-tied and motion to limbs that have never\nmoved before. It will also cure whooping-cough.\"\n\n\"I hope so,\" said the old man in an eager voice. He had heard only one\nword in six of the stranger's talk. \"I hope so, for I need it very much.\nShall I take it all at once, or--\" But already the Medicine Man was\nhalfway down the road, with the gold coin which the old man had given\nhim safe in his deepest pocket. The old man returned into his shop,\nblinking more than ever, and stumbling over the piled-up rubbish as he\nwent. It was an abominably crowded little room. Each corner, each shelf,\neach hook in wall or ceiling was occupied. Everything was piled high or\nfilled up with something else.\n\nIn the midst of all kinds of curiosities, the Lion Passant stood\nwaiting. He had been waiting there so many years that the Old Curiosity\nShop man had quite given up hope that any one would ever come for him.\nThe Lion was very old; older than the shop, older than the old man who\nkept it, older than anything else in the shop--and that was saying much.\n\nThe Lion was cobwebby and scarred; but, notwithstanding, he was a fine\nfigure of a beast. He had been finely carved out of oak and colored a\nwarm gules, though now somewhat faded. He was carved in the attitude of\nmarching along a parti-colored pole of gules and silver. His dexter paw\nwas raised in the air, his red tongue hung out and his tail was curved\ngracefully over his back. There was something which I cannot exactly\ndescribe of grand and dignified about the Lion Passant,--what the books\ncall a \"decayed gentility.\"\n\n[Illustration: HE STOOD IN THE DOORWAY TALKING WITH THE STRANGER]\n\nThe old man stumbled and blinked his way toward the door at the rear of\nthe shop. He was eager to try the Elixir of Life and become young again,\nand he hurried faster than was wise in the shadowy labyrinth. Just as he\nwas opposite the Lion Passant, he caught his foot in a sprawling chair\nand stumbled forward, with both arms stretched out to save himself. Away\nflew the bottle of Elixir, _smash_! against the head of the Lion Passant.\nThe glass shivered into a thousand pieces, and the precious golden drops\nwent trickling down over the carved beast, over the table, onto the\nfloor, where it made a dusty pool about the feet of a cracked china cat.\n\n\"Oh, me! Oh, me!\" groaned the old man. \"All my precious youth wasted,\nand no money left to buy more! Oh, me! What an unlucky day it is!\" And\nhe stumbled out to tell his wife all about it. Now, as soon as he had\nleft the shop, strange things began to happen there.\n\n\"Marry, come up!\" exclaimed the Lion, licking his red tongue. \"I am\na-weary of this. My leg is asleep.\" And he set down the dexter paw,\nwhich he had been holding in that position for four hundred years or\nmore.\n\n\"Wow!\" cried the China Cat from the floor. \"My cracks are growing\ntogether again! I believe I am as good as new!\" And she arched her back\nand yawned.\n\nThe Lion lashed his tail once, to be sure that he could really do it,\nand looked about the shop in disgust. \"I must away!\" he said.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried the Cat, lazily, beginning to lick her paw, as if she had\nalways been doing so since the discovery of China. \"You are so restless!\nWhere are you going?\"\n\nThe Lion stepped gingerly down from his striped pole to the table, and\nfrom there to the floor. As he did so, he seemed to increase in size, so\nthat by the time he had reached the shop door he was as large as an\nordinary lion. \"I am going to seek _Them_,\" said the Lion, with dignity.\n\"I am, as you see, a Lion Passant, the crest of a noble house. Many\nyears I have been separated from my people. I have waited for Them to\ncome for me. Every time the shop-bell tinkled it has waked an echo of\nhope in my heart. But They do not come; I must, then, go to Them.\" He\nsighed deeply.\n\n\"How will you know where to find them?\" asked the Cat, respectfully.\n\n\"I shall seek Them in the halls of the mighty,\" said the Lion proudly.\n\"They were of the noblest in the land, I remember.\"\n\n\"By what name shall you know them?\" asked the Cat again, who was\ninquisitive.\n\nThe Lion became thoughtful. \"The name?\" he repeated. \"The name? I have\nforgot the name. But I was the crest that They bore in battle, the\nfigure on their shields, the carving above their hearths.\"\n\n\"Yes, but times have changed, folk say,\" objected the Cat. \"How shall\nyou know your people among the New Ones?\"\n\n\"I shall recognize Them,\" said the Lion confidently. \"I shall know Them,\nthe proudest, the mightiest, the bravest, and most fair. Besides, is\nthere not the family tradition? Once, in the far ages before even I was\ncarved, the first knight of our line had an adventure with a lion; hence\nmy figure upon Their crest. I know not the tale complete; but this I\nknow--that from that time on, no one of Them has been able to see a\nlion, to speak or hear the name, without sneezing thrice. So it was in\nthat day, so it has been ever since.\"\n\n\"That, indeed, is something definite,\" yawned the Cat, as the Lion\nstalked out into the sunshine. \"Well, I'm glad I have no tradition but\none of comfort.\" And she curled herself up on a piece of ancient gold\nbrocade.\n\nSo the Lion went forth to seek his people. He had not gone far before he\novertook the Medicine Man, who had sold no Elixir since leaving the\nCuriosity Shop. The Lion padded up behind him so silently that the man\ndid not hear him until he was quite close; then the Lion gave a gentle\nroar.\n\n\"Abracadabra!\" cried the man, turning pale and shaking till his teeth\nrattled. He was so ignorant that he did not know a Heraldic Device when\nhe saw one. But he had seen pictures in books and knew that this\nbrilliant red beast was no ordinary lion.\n\n\"Kind youth,\" said the Lion grandly, lifting his paw and curving his\ntail in the old way, \"I owe you much. Your Magic Elixir has given me\nlife and motion. If there is aught I can do for you, I shall be glad.\"\n\nThe man's face was full of wonder. \"You owe much to the Elixir?\" he\ncried. \"Oh, pray explain!\"\n\nSo the Lion explained. When he had finished the simple story, the\nMedicine Man's face was illumined with a great idea. \"It is\nmagnificent!\" he cried. \"It is beyond my wildest dreams. For, to tell\nyou the truth--but why tell the truth? This justifies me, certainly.\nNow, if you would but go with me as a Living Testimonial?\"\n\nThe Lion bowed. He did not like the idea, for it threatened notoriety;\nbut he felt a sense of duty. \"_Noblesse oblige_,\" he murmured. \"It is\nOur motto. Nothing can hurt my pride, if it has a foundation upon truth.\nI will go with you until I feel that my debt is paid.\"\n\n\"It is well!\" said the man.  And they journeyed together. Naturally, the\nappearance of a warm crimson lion caused considerable excitement in the\nstreets of Kisington. Folk crowded around him and the Medicine Man, and\nwhen they heard his story, they bought eagerly of the Elixir. \"He is the\ncrest of a noble house come to life!\" they whispered among themselves.\n\"What noble house?\" The Lion listened eagerly for the answer; but heads\nwere shaken in reply. No one recognized the device.\n\nThere was one thing which annoyed the Lion. This was the tendency of the\nMedicine Man to exaggerate the powers of his Elixir. As time went on, he\nbegan to add the oddest stories to the one he told about the Lion. Was\nthat not wonderful enough? The Lion was astonished, shocked, outraged.\nHe protested, but in vain. The habit of exaggeration, once contracted,\nbecomes a terrible master. The Medicine Man seemed unable longer to\nspeak the truth.\n\nOne morning when he was telling his wicked lies to a company of trusting\nwomen and children, the Lion rose from the center of the eager circle\nand stalked away from the Medicine Man. \"_Noblesse oblige_,\" he said.\nAnd they never saw each other again. I dare say the seller of the Elixir\nand his descendants have been doing business in the same way ever since.\n\nNow, the Lion journeyed for many months through the Kingdom without\nfinding a trace of his family. He scanned carefully the entrance to\nevery great palace and castle. He caused some confusion in traffic by\ndashing out to examine the crests emblazoned upon the panels of the\nchariots which passed him on the road. He even halted foot-passengers to\ninquire, courteously, if he might look more closely at certain devices\nupon chain or brooch or bangle which had caught his eye. Especially, he\nsurprised with his attentions several persons who had sneezed violently\nin his presence. But in vain. He failed to find the clue he sought.\n\nFolk would fain have helped him in his search; for his manners were\ngentle and gracious, and his bearing unmistakably noble. Folk liked him.\nMany would have been glad to prove themselves, through him, scions of\nthat great family which he undoubtedly represented. But all their\nefforts to sneeze at the right time were fruitless. They went away\ncrestfallen before his reproachful gaze. Sometimes, the Lion would spy a\nlovely face, or a manly figure, which appealed strangely to him.\n\"Surely,\" he would say to himself, \"surely, this noble-looking person is\none of Them. Something seems to tell me so!\" And he would assume his\nheraldic pose, with dexter paw lifted and eloquent tail curved high,\nwaiting wistfully for the sneeze of recognition to follow. Sometimes,\nalas! came, instead, a laugh of scorn, or an unkind word. He learned that\nnoble figures and lovely faces do not always adorn like natures.\n\nWell, many months passed by. Footsore and weary, the Lion still traveled\nupon his quest. He felt very old and lonesome, homesick for his marble\nhalls, hopeless of finding them. He came, one noon, to an  inn on the\noutskirts of Derrydown Village. Over the door of the inn a signboard\ncreaked and flapped in the wind. The Lion looked up. He beheld upon the\nsign the picture of a red lion! The traveler was greatly moved.\n\"Surely,\" he thought, \"this must be the arms of some great family in the\nneighborhood--perhaps my ancestral castle is hereabout!\" But when he\nexplained things to the Landlord, that worthy dashed his hopes once\nmore. No family with such a device was known in those parts.\n\n\"However,\" said the Landlord, eyeing the Lion appraisingly, \"I have an\nidea! If you will remain with me for some hours, I will show you\nsomething. The Prince and his train are to pass here on their way to the\nAncient Wood, where they will hunt. In the company will be all the\ngrandest nobles of the Kingdom. Surely, some of your family will be\namong them. Here is a splendid viewpoint! Do you remain beside my door\nin your grand attitude. You will see and be seen. If your folks are\nthere, you will be sneezed at; which is what you want. It will be,\nbeside, a grand advertisement for me--a real red lion guarding the Red\nLion Inn!\"\n\nThe Lion agreed. That night, when the Prince's cavalcade passed through\nDerrydown, huge and red, with lifted paw and curved tail, the beast\nstood at the door of the Red Lion Inn. Many stared in wonder. Many\npaused to inquire. Many entered and partook of the dainties which Mine\nHost had prepared against this very happening. The Prince himself\npaused, pointed, and asked a question. The Lion's heart leaped wildly!\nThere was a curious expression on the Prince's face; it seemed drawn and\ntwisted--was he about to sneeze? Alas! No. With a harsh laugh, the\nPrince gave the Lion a cut with his whip and bounded past; after him,\nthe last of his followers. The Lion's skin smarted and his heart\nwrithed. He kept his temper with difficulty; but--it was the Prince.\n_Noblesse oblige_.\n\nWhen they were out of sight, his head drooped. There was no one in all\nthat gallant company who belonged to him. But the Landlord had reaped a\nrich harvest from the Lion's presence. When once more the village was\nempty of nobility, he came to the Lion, rubbing his hands, contentedly.\n\"Old fellow,\" he said, \"I have had profit from you. Now, I will give you\nsupper and a bed in my stable for the night. And why should we not make\nthis arrangement permanent? You see, your folks are gone. The family has\nrun out and no one any longer bears or recognizes the crest. You are an\norphan; but you can still be of use to me. Why not become the supporter\nof my inn?\"\n\n\"Gramercy!\" quoth the Lion, with dignity. \"I will accept the supper, for\nI am very hungry. But as for sleeping in the stable, that I cannot do! I\nprefer a bed on one of the fragrant haycocks in your meadow.\"\n\n\"To that you are welcome, if you please,\" said the Landlord graciously.\n\"And, to-morrow, we will talk again of the other matter.\"\n\nSo the Lion had his supper, and then went wearily to sleep on a haycock\nin the thymy meadow. He was sad and disillusioned, and the Landlord's\nwords had taken away his last hope. He began to wish that he had never\ncome alive. \"To-morrow,\" he said, \"I will go back to the Old Curiosity\nShop, and see if the old man can un-medicine me. For a crest without a\nfamily is even a more forlorn thing than a family without a crest!\"\n\nThe Lion wakened with a start. \"_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_\" sounded\nin his ear. He sprang to his feet and looked around. Opposite him stood\na little girl in a ragged gown, with a basket on her arm, staring at him\nwith big, round eyes. She did not seem in the least afraid. The Lion was\nannoyed. He had been dreaming of his noble family, and it was very\ndisappointing to be wakened by this beggar with her mocking \"_Ker-chew_!\"\n\n\"Away with you, child!\" he said. \"I am weary and peevish. Do you not\nknow better than to awaken a sleeping lion?\"\n\n\"_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_\"  The child sneezed again so violently\nthat she nearly fell into the haycock.\n\nThe Lion was agitated. \"What can this mean?\" he thought. \"It must be an\naccident which has caused her to sneeze at the word. I will try again.\"\nHe began firmly, \"When a lion--\" But again he was interrupted by the\nviolent sneezing of the little maid as soon as the word had passed his\nteeth.\n\nThe Lion shivered. Could this really be? Was it possible that this\nvagrant was an offshoot of the noble family which he had been seeking?\nIf so, he must be in no hurry to claim relationship! The child put her\nhand into her basket, smiling.\n\n\"Good Lion,\" she said, \"_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_ I like you. Will\nyou have a bit of bread?\" And she held out to him a fragment of her\nluncheon.\n\nThe Lion was touched. He did not like bread, but he could not refuse a\nchild, and he ate it painfully. \"What is your name?\" he asked at length.\n\n\"Claribel,\" she answered.\n\n\"Your other name?\" he persisted.\n\n\"Claribel,\" she repeated. \"Just Claribel--that is all.\"\n\n\"Where do you live?\" asked the Lion.\n\nThe child pointed over her shoulder. \"Near the Ancient Wood, yonder,\"\nshe said. \"I came to Derrydown to the market. I have sold my dolls; now\nI am going home with the money.\"\n\n\"Dolls?\" queried the Lion, interested in spite of himself. \"You make\ndolls?\"\n\nClaribel nodded. \"Rag dolls,\" she said. \"My mother made dresses for the\nvillagers. Now I make dolls out of the pieces in the old rag-bag. It\nbuys me bread.\"\n\nThe Lion's heart was softened. \"You are so little, Claribel!\" he\nexclaimed. \"Have you no one to take care of you?\"\n\nThe child shook her head. \"My mother is dead. I am alone in the world,\"\nshe said.\n\n\"But have you no relatives--no one of noble kin in some palace, some\ncastle?\" the Lion cried eagerly.\n\nThe child laughed. \"I know of no castles,\" she said; \"no kindred at all.\nI never had any, I think.\"\n\nThe Lion gave a groan. \"I will go back to the Curiosity Shop!\" he said\nwhimsically. \"Good-bye, child!\" He started away. But, turning for a last\nlook, he saw Claribel, with her eyes full of tears.\n\n\"Do not go!\" cried the child. \"I like you so much, dear Lion--_Ker-chew!\nKer-chew! Ker-chew!_\"\n\nThe Lion's heart melted. \"You are so little!\" he said, \"too little to be\ngoing on these roads alone. I will see you home.\" So they took the long\nroad together, the child skipping happily beside the Lion, with her hand\nin his red mane. And the farther they walked together, the more the Lion\nliked Claribel, who sneezed whenever she spoke his name, but looked at\nhim with kindly eyes.\n\nThey came at last to the hut where Claribel lived alone. It was a tiny\ncottage on the edge of the wood. The Lion looked at it long and hard. It\nwas so different from the castle he had hoped to find! The child pulled\nhim by the mane, and he went in. The hut was very poor, but spotlessly\nneat and clean.\n\nClaribel led the Lion to the fireplace and began to blow meager sparks\nwith the bellows. \"I will keep you warm and give you bread to eat. You\nshall stay and live with me and be my dear big watch-dog!\" she said.\n\nThe Lion sighed. But he could say nothing; he was so tender-hearted. \"I\nwill run away in the night,\" he promised himself. And then, on the\nmantel-stone above the tire, he spied a roughly-scratched shield. On the\nshield was the small figure of a lion passant, with dexter paw raised\nand curved tail. Below it was scrawled the motto, \"_Noblesse oblige_.\"\n\nClaribel saw him staring at it with big eyes, and began to laugh and\nsneeze. \"Yes, my mother loved it,\" she said, \"and I love it, though it\nalways makes me sneeze just as you do. That was why I liked you from the\nbeginning. Some day I shall learn what the words mean; then I shall be\nrich and happy.\"\n\nThe Lion did not run away that night. He slept with his nose on his paws\nbeside the fire and dreamed grand dreams of castles and fair ladies; of\ngold-broidered banners on which _he_ was emblazoned in crimson glory,\nand of the battle-cry, \"_Noblesse oblige_!\" echoing all about him.\n\nBut in the morning he was awakened, for the second time, by the sound of\nthree soft little sneezes. \"Excuse me!\" said Claribel's dear little\nvoice; \"I tried not to, but I could not help it. I was so afraid you\nwould not be here when I woke up. It might all have been a dream. But as\nsoon as I saw you, I had to sneeze;--it is very odd!\" She laughed and\nlaughed, and the Lion roared in sympathy.\n\n\"I shall not go away,\" he said. \"I want to be a real Supporter, not a\nheraldic one. I shall stay and try to help you learn the meaning of the\nmotto over the fireplace.\"\n\n\"Oh, I am so happy!\" cried Claribel, clapping her hands. \"Already, I\nhave thought of a way you can help me very much. I have always wanted to\nmake a lion doll--_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_ But I never before had\nany lion--_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_--to copy, except that flat one\nover the fireplace. Now I can shape them after you and sell them in the\nmarket, and we shall grow rich, oh, so rich!\"\n\nAnd so it befell in the days that came thereafter. For Claribel's clever\nfingers snipped and pieced and seamed together the bits of cloth, until\nshe had a lion so like her new friend that she almost sneezed her head\noff when he was finished. And, lo! She had invented a new kind of toy,\nwhich was speedily the rage over the whole kingdom.\n\nIn time, the making of lion-dolls became the great industry of\nDerrydown, whereof the people had much profit, especially Claribel,\nwhose idea it was. And the folk of the town loved her dearly, because\nshe had brought prosperity to them all. And they were devoted to the\nLion, who went to and fro among them with gracious dignity, serving\nClaribel and serving them, so busy that he had no time to worry about\nescutcheons.\n\nNo family so poor but it had its little lion of carefully pieced rags,\nwhich it fondly prized; not merely because it was a quaint toy and\nindestructible, but because it was to them a token of their noble,\nfriendly beast and of the motto which he had taught them. (But they had\ntaught him many things, also.) And in latter days a crimson lion became\nthe seal of the Guild of Toy-Makers in that shire. And a new tradition\nbegan to grow about the Lion Passant, concerned entirely with his\nservice to the people.\n\nSo, in seeking Them, the Lion found himself. And he lived happy ever\nafter.\n\n\n\nXI.  HOPE\n\n\"Dear me!\" said Red Rex, when Harold had finished this story. \"I never\nsaw one of those lion-dolls which your tale mentions. I would that I had\none to present to my little girl.\"\n\n\"Have you a little girl?\" exclaimed Harold in surprise. \"Why, I had no\nidea that you were the father of little children.\"\n\n\"Well, why not?\" asked the Red King crossly. \"I have a dear little girl\nof seven, and her name is Hope.\"\n\n\"Oh, if you have a dear little girl of your own, how can you make war on\na city where other dear little girls live?\" cried Harold. \"I cannot\nunderstand!\"\n\n\"No, you cannot understand, because you are only a child yourself,\" said\nthe Red King. \"When you are grown up you will feel differently.\"\n\n\"Your Majesty, I do not think so,\" declared Harold, shaking his head\ndecidedly. \"When I have learned all the books in our library, and seen\nall the countries there are to see, and done all the interesting things\nthere are to do, there may be time to think about war. But these other\nmatters will keep me busy all my life, I should think.\"\n\n\"Rubbish!--Can one purchase a lion-doll in your city?\" asked Red Rex,\nchanging the subject uneasily.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Harold. \"Every child in the city owns a lion-doll. Your\nMajesty ought to visit the great factory at Derrydown, near where\nClaribel lived,--where the dolls are still made. It is close by the\nAncient Wood, where there was such good hunting, and where David had his\nadventure with the Old Gnome, you know.\"\n\n\"No, I do not know the Old Gnome,\" retorted the Red King peevishly. \"How\ndo you expect me to know all the legends of your precious country? We\nknow nothing about this Kingdom in my own warlike land.\"\n\n\"Then why should you want to fight us?\" asked Harold. \"If you had taken\nthe trouble to know us better, you could then judge whether we deserve\nto be fought. But I think you would like our people if you knew them.\"\n\nAgain Red Rex changed the subject. \"What of the hunting in this Ancient\nWood?\" he asked. \"When I have taken your city, and after it the rest of\nyour Kingdom, I will go there to hunt.\"\n\n\"There was good hunting,\" said Harold, \"once upon a time. In those days\none had to beware the wicked Gnomes of the Great Fear. That was why the\nOld One fled.\"\n\n\"What about this 'Old One,' and this 'Great Fear'?\" asked the Red King.\n\"I suppose that is another story which you want to read to me.\"\n\n\"Nay; I do not care to read the tale unless Your Majesty wishes it,\"\nsaid Harold with dignity. \"But if Your Majesty desires a lion-doll for\nyour little Princess, I can get one for you and return with it and the\nstory at the same time. There is a dear little girl in the story. I\nthink your daughter must be very like her.\"\n\nThe Red King gnawed his red mustache and frowned forbiddingly at Harold.\nAt last he slapped his knee and gave a grunt of assent. \"Well,\" said he,\n\"fetch me the doll and the book. I may as well give my soldiers another\nday's holiday. But in sooth, this has gone on too long! To-morrow's tale\nmust positively be the last. I hope there will be much fighting in it.\nYour tales are something too peaceful for my taste. Look, now! Your city\nmust be destroyed in short order, because I have set my heart on it.\"\n\n\"Will Your Majesty promise me one other thing, beside the truce, till my\nreturn?\" begged Harold, looking up in his face with a winning smile.\n\nRed Rex frowned and tried to look very wicked and cruel.\n\n\"Well, what is it now?\" he growled.\n\n\"Promise me, Your Majesty, for the sake of your little dear daughter,\nwhose name is Hope, that when you fight again you will spare that part\nof the city where the schoolhouse stands. Robert and Richard and all my\nfriends are there.\"\n\n\"What part of the city is that?\" asked Red Rex sullenly.\n\n\"It is the west part,\" answered Harold, pointing in the opposite\ndirection from that in which he had declared the Wonder-Garden to have\nbeen.\n\n\"Very well; I promise,\" said the Red King. \"_Noblesse oblige_.\"\n\nHarold had no difficulty in getting a lion-doll for the Red King.\nIndeed, when they knew for what purpose it was intended, and what Harold\nhad gained by his clever winning of the promise from Red Rex, every\nchild in town wanted to send his or her lion-doll to the little\nprincess, whose name was Hope.\n\nThey came to Harold's home from all parts of the city, bringing their\ndolls, until the High Street was crowded. But the Librarian and the Lord\nMayor were unwilling to accept any of these, for none of them was quite\nfresh and new. Most of them had an arm or a leg dislocated, or bald\nspots on their yellow fur; which proved how fond the children were of\nthese noble pets, how much they hugged and fondled and frayed them.\n\nThe Lord Mayor himself went to the largest shop in Kisington and in the\nname of the children of Kisington purchased a royal lion-doll, nearly as\nbig as a real baby lion, with a patent voice inside which made it cry\n\"_Gr-r! Gr-r!_\" when you twisted its luxuriant tail. And this was to be\nthe toy of the little Princess Hope.\n\nWith this wonderful toy under one arm and a basket under the other,\nwhich contained among other things a green-and-gold volume from the\nlibrary, Harold kissed his mother and went once more to the camp of Red\nRex. He found the monarch there alone, save for his bodyguard. His\nsoldiers had gone to enjoy themselves in the neighboring woods, glad\nindeed of their continued holiday.\n\nWhen Red Rex saw the great lion-doll he clapped his hands on his knees\nand roared with laughter. And it was the first time Harold had heard the\nWar-Lord laugh,--a terrible sound! But when Harold showed how to make\nthe lion itself roar, by screwing its tail, the Red King fell over on\nhis back and nearly died of laughing.\n\n\"Oh! Oh!\" he cried, wiping the tears from his bronze cheeks. \"How the\nlittle Princess will squeal when I twist that lion's tail! How she will\nlaugh when she hears the creature roar!\" And he went off in another fit.\n\nHarold stood by grinning and saying nothing.\n\nThe Red King took out a huge purse from his girdle. \"And now, what shall\nI pay you for this wonderful toy?\" he asked. \"I suppose it is worth many\ngolden crowns?\"\n\n\"It is worth your promise to the children of Kisington, Your Majesty,\"\nsaid Harold. \"It is a gift from them to your little Princess whose name\nis Hope. The children hope you will remember your promise to them.\"\n\n\"I am a King. I do not forget,\" said Red Rex haughtily.\n\n\"Nevertheless, Kings do forget sometimes,\" murmured Harold. \"But this\nlion will remind you of your kingly crest, and of the Lion Passant whose\nmotto you know so well.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Red Rex, and he looked at the lion-doll earnestly.\n\n\"And now, shall I read to Your Majesty the story of which we spoke?\"\nasked Harold, opening his basket and taking out the\ngreen-and-gold-volume.\n\n\"Begin,\" commanded the Red King, settling himself cozily on his back,\nwith his head lying on the soft fur of the new lion-doll. \"But unless\nthere is a deal of fighting in it I shall go to sleep. I am very weary.\"\n\nThereupon Harold began to read in his best manner the gentle tale of\n_The Hermit Gnome_.\n\n\n\nXII: THE HERMIT GNOME\n\nLong, long ago, in the farthest corner of the Kingdom, was a mountain\ncovered with a pathless forest. Human folk never came this way. The\nshadows of the forest were gloomy, and the sounds of the forest were\nstrange, and the name of the forest was full of dread. Men called it the\nGreat Fear. For it was here that the Gnomes lived and did their wicked\ndealings.\n\nThe Gnomes were ugly and deformed and black; no larger than the\nElf-People, but instead of Fairy kindness their minds plotted evil. They\nlived in the hollows and cracks of the mountain. Some of them camped out\nunder the great, poisonous toadstools which they loved, as they loved\neverything dangerous to man. And all day long they dreamed, all night\nlong they wrought mischief. They were at the bottom of many of the evil\nhappenings in Kisington and elsewhere. For they could wreak their evil\nmagic from a long distance.\n\nNow, of the race of Gnomes there was one apart. He was a queer little\nfellow, the oldest, the ugliest, and the crookedest of them all. His\nface was wrinkled like a brown walnut; and his little misshapen body was\nbent under a hump which was the biggest part of him. But his mind was\nnot evil. He was quite harmless and mild and lazy, and he hated the dire\ndoings of his fellows who would neither mind their own business nor\nleave him to his.\n\nFor centuries things went on from bad to worse in the Great Fear. At\nlast the Old Gnome could bear it no longer.\n\n\"I am very old and tired,\" he said. \"It is almost time for me to curl up\nin the long sleep. But I cannot sleep here! I should have bad dreams. I\nwill leave the Great Fear, which owes none of its name to me. I will go\nand become a Hermit, as men say.\"\n\nSo spoke the queer little Gnome. And one bright noon when all the other\nGnomes were dreaming with shut eyes,--for they hated the daylight,--he\nstumbled away as fast as his crooked little legs could take him south\nfrom the Great Fear. Now, beyond this was a meadow, which was the\nborderland across which human folk dared not approach the haunt of the\nGnomes. And beyond the meadow again was an Ancient Wood, which, though\nhe did not know it, was on the outskirts of Derrydown. Thither the Old\nGnome betook himself, and found it very good indeed. Like the Great Fear\nit was dense and shadowy and cool. In places it was very dark. But there\nwas scarcely a spot whence you could not, when the sun shone, catch\nspeckled gleams of gold upon the moss; or, when the moon beamed, spy a\nwealth of filtered silver. For the Ancient Wood was intersected hither\nand yon by paths of the woodchoppers. And sun and moon love to peer down\nthrough the man-made windows in the green roof of trees and beautify the\nways which human feet have trod.\n\nThe Old Gnome peered and pried about the Ancient Wood, seeking a\nhermitage. At last he came upon the hollow stump of a tree, hidden in a\nclump of feathery fern. It was thatched with green lichens without, and\ncarpeted within in a mossy pattern of green and gray and scarlet. Little\nhard mushrooms, growing shelf-wise one above another, made a winding\nstaircase up to the doorway. Portieres of finest spider-wrought tapestry\nswayed before door and window and draped the dark-hued walls; while\nacross one corner hung a hammock of heavier web, the very thing for a\nweary Gnome's resting-place.\n\nAs soon as the Old Gnome spied this stump he cried,--\"Ha! This is the\nspot for me! Here will I make my hermitage. And when the time comes for\nmy long sleep, here will I rest forever.\" For you must know that the\nGnomes do not die, being immortal like the Fays; but unlike them growing\nolder and dryer and drowsier until they are fit only for eternal sleep.\n\nThe Old Gnome was soon at home in his cell; and very peaceful and cozy\nhe found it. For several days he lay and swung in his hammock, growing\ncomfortably drowsier and drowsier, too lazy even to gather berries for\nhis food. He would soon sleep without waking; and by and by the moss and\nlichens would grow over him, too, and he would become a silent part of\nthe Ancient Wood,--a little green mound such as you yourself may have\nseen many a time.\n\nBut one day while he was snoring, with his wrinkled hands folded\npeacefully on his little chest, he heard a sound which made him open his\neyes with a snap. It was the noise of an axe chopping. The Old Gnome sat\nup nervously and peered through his knot-hole window. A woodcutter was\nat work at the very next tree.\n\n\"Hello!\" said the Old Gnome, staring open-eyed; \"That must be a _man_!\"\nFor this was the first mortal he had ever seen.\n\nForgetting his drowsiness, he climbed up his staircase and peered\nclosely at the creature from behind a curtain of fern.\n\nIt was a strong young man, who wielded the axe heartily against the\ngiant oak. The Old Gnome watched him curiously, admiring the lithe sweep\nof his arm and the rhythmic bend of his body.\n\n\"They are goodly folk, these men!\" he sighed, looking down on his own\nmisshapen frame. \"How can those evil brothers of mine care so much to\nvex and trouble them?\" And he turned over and tried to go to sleep; but\nthe sound of the axe kept knocking at something within him.\n\nSuddenly, the man made a mis-stroke. The axe slipped and came down upon\nhis sandaled foot. With a cry he dropped the axe and fell to the ground,\nlying very still and white.\n\n\"Ha!\" frowned the Old Gnome, \"the work of my brothers! Some one of them\nmust have charmed that axe. But how strange he looks! Doubtless it is\npain, which I do not know. Ah, pain must be something very sore!\" And he\nfelt a throb of pity.\n\nHe hobbled to the spot where the woodman lay. Across his leg was a deep\ngash and on the moss were drops of crimson. The Old Gnome looked at them\nwonderingly, for the Gnomes are bloodless. \"How beautiful the color!\" he\ncried, and he touched his finger to one of the drops. Immediately a\nthrill went through his cold body, and he seemed to feel a fresh draught\nof life. New impulses came to him.\n\n\"These men!\" cried he, \"how weak they are, after all! How greatly they\nneed aid. I can help him now,--even I!\" And his ugly little face\nwrinkled into the first grin it had known for centuries.\n\nHe called to mind his long-forgotten skill in herbs, and hunted in the\nAncient Wood for certain plants of healing. One he crushed and laid upon\nthe wound to stanch the blood. Others he set out in the ground close\nunder the young man's nose, so that they seemed to be growing naturally\nthere.\n\nPresently the woodman opened his eyes and stared about him dazedly, but\nthe Old Gnome had hidden himself. As he gained strength, the woodman\ntore a strip of linen and bound it upon his leg. Then, sniffing the\naromatic herbs which grew conveniently at hand, he plucked a bunch with\nwhich to make a lotion, and with it limped painfully from the wood.\n\nThe Old Gnome watched him go with curious eyes. \"I wonder if he will\nreturn,\" he said to himself. And he decided not to sleep until he should\nknow how it fared with the young man.\n\nIt was not many days thereafter before the woodman returned to the\nforest. The lotion had been wondrous helpful, and had healed him more\nquickly than he had dared to hope; for he was eager to be at work again.\nLimping slightly, for the wound had been a sore one, David began work\nanew.\n\nDay by day the Old Gnome watched him, half jealously at first. But the\nmore he watched the more he liked the ways of the intruder. The woodman\nsang at his work; his eyes sparkled and his lips smiled as if with\npleasant thoughts.\n\nThe Old Gnome found himself smiling too, unseen behind the fern. \"I will\nnot sleep yet awhile,\" he said, \"for there is work to do.\"\n\nIn the night when the Ancient Wood was silent he toiled long and\nheartily at the crafts wherein he was wise. And the woodman tasted the\nresult. For the Old Gnome made the berries to ripen more quickly in that\nglade. He caused delicious mushrooms to spring up all about. He coaxed a\nspring of fair water from the bed where it slumbered underground and\nmade it gush into a little basin where David came upon it gladly. He\ncaused medicinal herbs to grow, and certain fragrant plants that drove\naway the mischievous insects sent by his brother Gnomes. All this the\nOld One did while David was away; and the young man did not know. But he\nwas very happy and busy. Now, one day the young man finished his\nwoodcutting, and lo! he had made a clearing in the Ancient Wood large\nenough for a tiny house; but the Gnome did not know this. David looked\nabout him at the spring and the flowers and the berries of the pleasant\nplace which the Old Gnome had prepared, and said, \"It is good!\"\nForthwith of the logs which he had felled he began to build the house\nitself.\n\nWhen the Old Gnome saw what David was about to do, indeed he was angry!\nFor he said,--\n\n\"Oho! I did not bargain for this. This is my wood! I want no\nneighbor,--though a merry visitor was not unwelcome. What is to become\nof my solitude, of my hermitage? And how am I to sleep, with another\nrestless creature living close by forever and ever?\"\n\nFor several days he sulked in his cell and would not work. But finally\nthe merry sound of the young man's whistle keeping time to the wheeze of\nsaw and the knock of hammer made the Old Gnome smile again, and he said\nto himself,--\n\n\"Well, what of it? True, I shall have a neighbor for good and all. But\nhe will be alone and speechless, since there is no one with whom to\nchatter; and he will never trouble me. Let him build here if he will.\"\n\nDavid builded his house; and a pretty little place it was, for he was a\ncareful workman and his heart was in it. When all was done he laid the\naxe aside, hid the hammer and saw, put on fine new clothes and went away\nacross the meadow, whistling happily as a bird. It was the Gnome's first\nchance to see the inside of a man's dwelling, and he lost no time in\ngoing there, you may be sure. He found many things to wonder at, for\nnaturally it was very different from a Gnome's hermitage. But nothing\nsurprised him more than the wreaths of flowers which David had hung over\ndoor and window and fireplace, over bed and chairs and table, so that\nthe place was like a fragrant bower prepared for a beloved guest.\n\nThe Old Gnome shook his head. \"Strange folk, these men!\" said he. \"Why,\nand why, and why?\" But he brushed up the sawdust, which David had\nforgotten in a corner; and he re-piled the kindlings on the hearth,\nwhich David had hastily put together for a fire. He neatly spread the\nbed, which David had clumsily prepared; and he made tidy the kitchen\nwhich, in his eagerness to don his new clothes, David had quite\noverlooked. Then the Old One went back to his cell and lay down in his\nhammock, chuckling. \"How surprised the fellow will be!\" he said.\n\nAt night the Old Gnome heard voices in the wood, and sprang up from his\nhammock angrily. \"More of them?\" he cried. \"Am I to hear human prattle\naround me, after all?\" And he peered from the balcony of his cell with\neyes almost as fierce as those of his brother Gnomes in the Great Fear.\nHe stared and stared at what he saw. For the young woodcutter was\nreturning in his fine clothes, and with him was a fair maiden, also in\nholiday gear. Both looked very happy and smiling.\n\nThey entered the open door, and the Old Gnome watched to see David's\nsurprise when he should discover how matters had improved in his\nabsence. But the woodman was thinking so much about his pretty new wife\nthat he had eyes for nothing else. However, she looked about her with\nsurprise and pleasure, and the Old Gnome heard her say to her husband,--\n\n\"Ah, David! What a tidy housekeeper you are! Or is it some Fairy who has\nmade the house so neat and ready for me? Surely, no one but a beautiful,\nkind Fairy would sweep the floor so spotless and make so smooth the bed.\nOh, I am glad we have a Fairy friend!\"\n\nWhat David replied the Old Gnome did not hear. He was filled with\nwondering delight. A Fairy! The sweet little thing had thought it must\nbe a beautiful Fairy who had done this work! The Old Gnome looked\nwhimsically down at his bandy legs and ugly body, and sighed and smiled.\n\n\"Ah, if I were but a Fairy!\" he said. \"Fairies are beautiful and good;\nthey live forever young and gay, and there is no end to the kindness\nthey may do. But I!\"--he sighed again,--\"a Fairy, indeed!\" And he\nhobbled away to his cell, thinking kindly of the little wife who of all\nthe world had spoken the first word of praise for him; and of the strong\nyoung man who loved her.\n\nNow happy days followed in the little house in the Ancient Wood; happy\ndays, too, for the Old Gnome in his hermit's cell. For he was busy all\nthe time doing kind deeds for his new neighbors; without their knowing\nit. Sometimes he set the table for the morning meal. Sometimes he helped\nin the churning and made the butter come quickly. Sometimes he blew the\nfire like a little bellows; a hundred and one things he found to do\nabout the cottage. And it was his reward to hear the young wife\nsay,--\"Oh! David, the good Fairy has been here again. What a dear, good,\nbeautiful Fairy it must be!\"\n\nThe Old Gnome was very careful to keep his ugly face out of sight, you\nmay be sure.\n\nDays went by, and the Old Gnome was ever more and more busy in the hut\nof the young people, so that really I do not know how they would have\ndone without him. He was scarcely ever in the hermitage nowadays, except\nfor a few hours' sleep by daylight; and he scarcely found time to look\nafter his own affairs, such as they were, so little of a hermit was he\nbecome! But every night the young wife set out a bowl of curds and cream\nfor the beautiful Fairy who helped her; and sometimes David left half\nhis luncheon of bread and cheese in the woods, for his unknown friend.\nThe Old Gnome was growing fat and merry because of this good fare; but\nhe seemed as little like a Fairy as ever.\n\nThe months went by; and one day a surprising thing happened. The Old\nGnome, sleeping in his hammock, was wakened by a strange, shrill little\ncry. He sat up and listened wonderingly. It was broad daylight, but at\nthe risk of being seen he ran as fast as he could, and climbing up the\nvine of eglantine peered in at the chamber window whence came the cry.\nAnd there lying on the young wife's bed was a wee pink baby! The Old\nGnome looked at it long and earnestly; and the more he peered the more\nhe liked the look of this newest little neighbor.\n\n\"It is as beautiful as a Fairy!\" he thought. \"I must be good to it, and\nperhaps it will grow to love me.\"\n\nFrom that time the Old Gnome had no rest at all. Unseen--wrapped in a\ncloak of shadows--he sat for hours while the baby was asleep, fanning\nthe flies away from its little face. When it was restless, he kept the\nclothes over its tiny feet, drawing them up as fast as the baby kicked\nthem away. And when the young wife came, she would say,\n\n\"See, David! Our Fairy has been watching over our baby, just as it\nwatched over us. Oh, now I feel quite safe from those wicked Gnomes who\nlive in the Great Fear!\" At this the Old Gnome would chuckle from the\ncorner where he lurked, and where only the baby's bright eyes could\npierce the cloak of shadows. It was a great day for the Old Gnome when\nfirst the baby smiled at him. It was a still greater day when she held\nout her little arms to him, and the Old One knew that they were friends.\nSoon she was lisping words in her shrill voice; and one of the first\nthings she tried to say was \"Fairy friend.\" She looked straight at the\nOld Gnome when she did it, and a thrill went through him at the words.\nShe saw him; yet she thought he was a Fairy! Poor little mite! He\ndreaded the day when she should know the difference. But the baby seemed\nto love him more and more every day, and the Old Gnome's cell became her\nfavorite playhouse.\n\nWhen she grew old enough to talk, she and her mother spoke often of the\nFairy friend; and the little girl told strange tales of his doings when\nno one but herself was about, for still he shyly crept into his cloak of\nshadows when the grown-up folk were near. When the mother asked what\nlike the Fairy was, she shook her head. \"I cannot tell!\" she would\nanswer. \"Not like you, Mother dear; but beautiful also, and good and\nmerry.\"\n\nNow, the woodcutter's wife was a very good woman, but she was curious.\nThe more she heard about the friendly, mysterious Fairy whom her child\nalone had seen, the more she longed to see him for herself. This was not\nkind; for she knew he did not wish to be seen. But she was sorely\ntempted. One day she heard the little one out in the Ancient Wood\nlaughing and talking merrily with some one. \"It is the Fairy!\" said the\nmother, and she picked up her toes and crept noiselessly to spy upon\nthem.\n\nThere was the baby sitting on a bed of moss; and there, plainly seen\nwithout his shadow-cloak, was the Old Gnome, turning somersaults for her\nand dancing on his crooked legs to make her laugh.\n\nBut the mother did not laugh at what she saw! She burst out of the\nbushes with a cry and seized the baby in her arms. \"My child!\" she\nscreamed. \"Oh, the wicked Gnome! Help, David, help!\"\n\nHer cry summoned the woodcutter, who came running up, very pale, with\nhis axe in his hand. \"What is this?\" he asked. \"Who is injuring my\nchild?\"\n\nSobbing, his wife pointed to where the Old Gnome cowered, blinking,\ncaught at last in the sunlight outside his cell.\n\n\"A Gnome!\" cried David in horror. \"One of the pests from the Great Fear!\nWhat are you doing here, Monster? How shall we pay you to go away and\nleave us in peace?\"\n\n\"I will go away,\" said the Old Gnome humbly, \"though I belong not to the\nGreat Fear, and I came here before you. My wish is not evil you-ward. It\nis I who am a friend. But I will go.\" With a kind look at the baby he\nturned away.\n\nBut the baby struggled down from her mother's arms and ran after him\ncrying,--\"No, no! Do not go away, dear, beautiful Fairy! Mother! Father!\nIt is the friend whom we all love. I have heard you praise him. Do not\nsend him away.\"\n\n\"The Fairy!\" cried the father, running to capture her.\n\n\"It is no Fairy, child!\" said the mother. \"It is one of the ugly, wicked\nGnomes who do only evil. Let him go!\"\n\nBut the child struggled and shrieked. \"He shall not go! It is the\nbeautiful Fairy who helps us. I have watched him doing all the kind\nthings you say the Fairy does, and I love him dearly. He shall not go!\"\nThe father and mother looked at each other, then at the shrinking Gnome.\n\"Is this true?\" they demanded, \"or is this some wicked Gnome-trick which\nhas bewitched our child?\"\n\nThe Old Gnome bowed meekly. \"Alas! I am no Fairy, as I fain would be,\"\nhe confessed. \"But I loved to hear you call me so. I am a Gnome; but I\nhave done no evil, only good, so far as my skill went. The happy days\nare over now. The child knows the truth. No one will ever again think me\nbeautiful or good. I had forgotten how old I was; I had almost grown to\nfeel young again in the merry, busy days of service. But now the time\nhas come indeed for me to lie down in the long sleep. I will go away and\nfind a new cell, and curl me up in a happy dream which will last\nforever.\"\n\nOnce more he turned to go. The father and mother were silent.\n\nBut the baby burst into violent weeping. \"Oh, he is beautiful,\nbeautiful, the kind, dear Fairy! Do you not see how beautiful he is,\nMother, Father?\" she cried.\n\nThe Old Gnome turned and looked at her, smiling sadly and shaking his\nhead with a tender light in his eyes. \"No, no!\" he said, \"not beautiful;\nonly loving!\"\n\n\"But yes!\" cried the mother, staring amazedly. \"Think, David, of all he\nhas done for us. He does, he does look beautiful to me!\"\n\nDavid stared also. \"From the day my foot was wounded,\" he said, \"only\ngood has befallen me here. And if he has done it, the kind little\nfellow!--Yes, yes! He does, indeed, look beautiful to me!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" cried the child, laughing and clapping her hands. \"I was right! I\nknew he was our kind Fairy, all the time. If he is good, he is no Gnome.\nIt is only a name. If he seems beautiful to us, then he is beautiful,\nindeed. He is a Fairy! He shall live here with us and we will love him\nforever.\"\n\nAnd lo, as she spoke, the Old Gnome looked wonderingly down at his body.\nHe seemed to have changed. He was no longer crooked and old, but light\nand airy and beautiful. Over his head arched gauzy wings and his dress\nsparkled like dew. Also he felt young and full of power to do things he\nhad never done before.\n\n\"I believe I am a Fairy!\" he cried joyously. \"And I may live and love\nand serve forever, and never be tired or sleepy!\"\n\nSo it fell out as they all wished. And the hermit's cell became a Fairy\npalace.\n\n\n\nXIII: HAROLD'S LUNCHEON\n\nWhen Harold finished reading the story of the Hermit Gnome to the Red\nKing, he looked up to see how his listener had enjoyed the tale. And lo\nand behold! Red Rex was fast asleep! He lay on his back in the afternoon\nsunshine, and a noise came from his half-open mouth rather like the\n_Gr-r!_ of the lion-doll, when its tail was screwed.\n\n\"Well!\" said Harold to himself; \"I cannot return to the city until His\nMajesty wakes up; for that would not be polite, and his bodyguard would\nnot allow it. I may as well make myself comfortable and be patient. The\nlonger he sleeps the longer time we shall have in safety to wait for\nhelp from our King.\"\n\nHarold opened the little covered basket to replace the green-and-gold\nvolume from which he had just been reading, and in doing so caught sight\nof the luncheon which his thoughtful mother had packed, in the fear that\nhe might be hungry ere his return. He took out the folded napkin and\npeered eagerly below. There was a huge wedge of apple pie! Harold licked\nhis lips and his eyes sparkled, for there was nothing of which he was so\nfond as apple pie. \"I must have at least a bite this minute!\" he said to\nhimself, and opening his mouth very wide he prepared to bite into the\njuicy wedge.\n\nJust at this moment Red Rex opened his eyes.\n\n\"Pitikins!\" he cried, \"what is going on? Is this part of the story?\" For\nat first he did not know that he had been asleep.\n\n\"No, Your Majesty,\" said Harold; \"it is a piece of one of my mother's\nfamous pies. Will you share it with me?\"\n\n\"That I will!\" said Red Rex, sitting upright and stretching out his hand\neagerly. \"It looks like apple pie. There is nothing in the world I like\nso well as apple pie.\"\n\n\"Your taste is the same as mine,\" said Harold merrily, carving the wedge\nwith his knife into two equal triangles. \"I believe Your Majesty never\ntasted better pie than that. It is made by a famous rule.\"\n\nRed Rex munched his share greedily, sitting opposite the munching\nHarold. And as they ate they eyed one another, not unfriendly. When he\nhad finished, the Red King said,--\"By my sword! That is the best piece\nof apple pie that ever I tasted, or hope to taste! Your mother must be a\nwondrous cook, Harold.\"\n\n\"That she is!\" cried the proud boy. \"And she is the best mother who ever\nlived. She made six of these wonderful pies for me, because she knows\nthat I like them so much. I saw them this morning on a shelf in the\npantry.\"\n\n\"Six juicy apple pies!\" murmured Red Rex, smacking his lips at the\nthought. \"Where do you live, boy?\"\n\n\"I live on the High Street, which leads from the market-place, in a\nlittle house next the butcher's shop,\" said Harold, wondering why the\nKing asked.\n\n\"I will remember that,\" said Red Rex, nodding his head solemnly. \"I owe\nyour mother a happy memory for that piece of delicious pie.\"\n\n\"It is made from the recipe for the King's Pie,\" said Harold. \"No wonder\nyou approve it, being like His Hungry Majesty of old.\"\n\n\"The King's Pie!\" exclaimed the surprised monarch. \"Pray, what do you\nmean by that?\"\n\n\"It is another story, Your Majesty,\" said Harold, grinning. \"I think it\nis the best story of all. But I suppose you would not care to hear it\nto-morrow.\"\n\n\"Oh, go along with you and your stories, you young beguiler!\" cried Red\nRex with a great roar, at the same time poking Harold playfully with the\npoint of his sword. \"I see that you would keep me here forever at the\nwalls of your city, listening to your tales.\"\n\n\"Not forever,\" said Harold, with an air of candor. \"I do not think that\neven the library of Kisington could furnish new books for as long a time\nas that,--though, to be sure, you might hear some of the same ones over\nagain. But, indeed, you have no idea what treasures still remain in that\ncasket! This tale of the King's Pie is one of the rarest, I think.\"\n\nRed Rex seemed to be thinking very earnestly about something. \"The\nKing's Pie,\" he murmured, more than once. \"H'm! H'm! It is of a\ndeliciousness! Ha! Ho!\" And he smacked his lips again, thinking of the\ntantalizing wedge which was now no more. Suddenly he spoke: \"I have\ndecided to wait yet another day,\" he announced. \"I will hear that tale\nto-morrow. And if it contains a recipe for the famous pie, I shall want\nyou to copy it off for me. Bring pen and paper, my lad.\"\n\n\"That I will!\" said Harold joyously. For this meant still another day's\ndelay; and the time was now near at hand when they might expect to see\nhelp coming from the Capital City where their good King Victor lived.\nThis was Wednesday, when he took leave of the Red King.\n\n\n\nXIV: THE ROBBER\n\nHarold was very weary when he returned to the cottage that evening; and\nhe was still more weary before he tumbled into bed. For in the mean time\nhe had to learn his school lessons for the following day, and tell the\nother boys all about his adventures. He slept like a top; quite like a\ntop,--for sometimes during the night there came from his little room\nbeyond the kitchen a sound like a humming top.\n\nIt was about midnight when Harold was awakened by a peculiar noise. It\nwas a queer, clicking, tapping noise that seemed to come from the\nkitchen close by. Harold sat up in bed and listened. Some one was\ncertainly moving about in the kitchen. It was probably his mother, he\nthought. And yet, what could his mother be doing there at that time of\nnight? Stealthy steps crossed the kitchen; just then Harold sneezed,--he\ncould not help it. There was silence.\n\nPresently he heard a noise in the pantry, which was next his own little\nroom. Harold rose and crept noiselessly out of his chamber. Yes, there\nwas someone in the pantry. The door was open,--something not allowed in\nhis mother's kitchen rule. An uncertain light flickered behind the\npantry door. Harold could not see plainly, but there certainly was some\none meddling with the dishes on the shelves. Suddenly a silhouette came\nbetween Harold and the light, and he saw the shape of the intruder. It\nseemed to be a very tall old woman in bonnet and shawl, and her great\nhand was carrying something from the pantry shelf to the mouth within\nthe bonnet.\n\nHarold felt himself growing very angry. Who was this stranger who dared\nto force a way into their cottage and eat up the hard-earned victuals\nwhich his mother had painfully prepared? Such doings were rare indeed in\nKisington. It was a wicked thief, a robber, a house-breaker! Even though\nit was a woman, she must be punished.\n\nThere was a key in the lock outside the pantry door. Quick as a flash\nHarold made a leap for it, and turned it in the lock. At the same time\nhe shouted to his mother who slept in the room upstairs,--\"Quick! Quick,\nMother! There is an old woman in the pantry eating up the food! I have\ncaught her at it!\"\n\nIn a few minutes his mother's feet came pattering down the stairs. But\nin the mean time what a hubbub was going on in the pantry! Evidently the\nthief had no mind to be discovered and taken in her criminal act. There\nwas the sound of overturned boxes and barrels, the crash of crockery and\nglass. The thief was smashing the pantry window!\n\n\"Open the door, Harold!\" screamed his mother. \"She is climbing out the\nwindow!\"\n\nIt did not seem possible that the thief could do this, it was such a\ntiny window. But, sure enough! when the door was opened, and Harold and\nhis mother crowded into the pantry, they were but just in time to seize\nthe hem of the old woman's shawl, as her last leg squeezed through the\ncasement. Harold held on to the shawl tightly, however, and off it came\nin his hands. It was a very nice shawl.\n\n\"Who ever heard of a thief in Kisington!\" exclaimed the mother. \"Who\ncould it be? I never saw a shawl like this. Let us examine what she has\ntaken, the wicked old creature!\"\n\nHarold got a candle, and presently returned to the pantry, where his\nmother was groping among the smashed crockery for some other clue to the\nthief. When the light flickered on the pantry shelves the mother gave a\nscream of surprise and anger. \"My six beautiful pies!\" she exclaimed.\n\"The thief has stolen my six beautiful apple pies! Oh, what a wicked old\nsoul!\"\n\n\"Those lovely pies!\" groaned Harold. \"See, Mother, she has gobbled one\nand left the empty plate. The others she has taken away with her.\"\n\n\"I wish they may choke her!\" cried the mother angrily. \"Now you will\nhave none to take to your Red King to-morrow. I was going to save the\nfinest of all for him, in the hope that it would soften his hard heart.\"\n\n\"It will never soften his heart nor please his stomach now, Mother,\"\nsaid Harold ruefully. \"And still more I regret the other five pies which\nI know you meant for me. When shall we ever see such pies again?\"\n\n\"They were made from the last of the flour and apples and sugar sent you\nin gratitude by the Leading Citizens,\" said Harold's mother sadly. \"I am\nsorry your reward is thus wasted, my poor boy! What spiteful neighbor\ncould have spied them through the pantry window and planned this\nmidnight raid at our expense?\"\n\nHarold shook his head mournfully. \"I do not know any one in Kisington\nwhom I could suspect,\" he said. \"Come, Mother, let us go back to bed.\nTo-morrow we will look further into the matter. We have at least this\nhandsome shawl as one clue, which if it does not find us the thief will\nbe very nice for you to wear.\"\n\nThey went to bed again, and slept until morning.\n\nNow in the morning before school Harold took the shawl and went to his\nfriend the Librarian and told him what had happened during the night.\nThe Librarian was greatly shocked to hear of a theft in town and went\nwith Harold straight to the Lord Mayor.\n\nThe Mayor examined the shawl carefully and shook his head. \"This is very\nstrange!\" he said. \"This is no shawl made in Kisington, or in our\nKingdom. It is a strange foreign shawl, and very valuable. I am glad to\nbelieve that the thief must have been a foreigner, or a gypsy, or a\nvagrant of some sort. But how did she find her way into our guarded\ncity? I must look into this! Meanwhile, my lad, since you have suffered\nloss and damage to your pantry and to your feelings the Leading Citizens\nwill see that you are made whole at their expense; I will answer for\ntheir gratitude to you.\"\n\n\"My Lord,\" said the Librarian, patting Harold affectionately on the\nhead, \"our boy has done so well already in handling this savage King,\nmay we not expect still more from him now that the time is so critical?\nKing Victor should soon be coming to our aid. If we can but postpone the\nsiege for at least another day! Suppose Harold should invite Red Rex,\nunder a flag of truce, to visit and inspect our Library?\"\n\n\"Good!\" cried the Mayor. \"When you go to Red Rex this afternoon, Harold,\nmy boy, see what you can do further in the matter.\"\n\n\"I will try, my Lord Mayor,\" said Harold. \"But Red Rex is growing very\nimpatient. I fear that I cannot much longer keep him amused with our\ntales.\"\n\n\"Clever lad! You have already done right well,\" said the Librarian,\nembracing Harold proudly. \"And I dare say you will be able to do yet\nmore. Now, run along to school; for we must not forget our everyday\nduties, even in these times of excitement and danger.\"\n\nSo Harold went to school, and you can imagine how many questions he had\nto answer at recess time. The Librarian went to his books and the Lord\nMayor to his desk. And Harold's mother went down on her knees, cleaning\nup the wrecked pantry.\n\nBut where was the strange old woman all this time?\n\n\n\nXV: THE BANDAGED HAND\n\nAs soon as school was over on Thursday afternoon, Harold started once\nmore on his errand to the War-Lord. As usual, he was accompanied to the\ncity gate by a crowd of schoolboys and girls who envied him his luck and\nwished that they could go all the way with him. But this, naturally, the\nCity Fathers would not permit. One boy carried Harold's coat, and\nanother his strap of schoolbooks. A third brought the basket with\nHarold's luncheon, while Robert carried the flag of truce,--proud boy!\nBut Richard, Harold's special chum, was the proudest of all. For he was\ntrusted with the precious volume from the library containing the story\nof the King's Pie, which Harold was to read to the War-Lord on that day.\nAll gave a great cheer when the gate was unbarred; and all the little\ngirls waved their handkerchiefs when with a gay shake of his hand Harold\nstepped out into the danger zone.\n\nRed Rex received him as usual, sitting upon the green hillock. Harold\nnoticed straightway that the War-Lord's hand was bound up with a\nbandage, and that he had a cut over his left eye, which made him look\nfiercer than ever.\n\n\"But I thought there was a truce!\" exclaimed Harold, gazing at these\ntokens of trouble. \"How came you to be thus hurt, Your Majesty?\"\n\n\"Nay; it was an accident,\" said the Red King gruffly. \"Say no more about\nit, pray. Well! I have no time to waste to-day. Things are coming to an\nissue. Let me hear your story as quickly as possible,--if you have\nbrought one, as I think.\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Majesty,\" replied Harold. \"I have brought you the spicy story\nof the King's Pie, which I think you will like. I had meant, in order to\nillustrate the story, to bring you also one of the veritable pies. But\nthat, alas! I am now unable to do. My mother made a pie especially for\nthis purpose; but it is gone with others which were to be mine, and for\nwhich I grieve on my own account. A wicked thief stole them all during\nlast night. So I fear you will not appreciate the story so well as\notherwise you might have done.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I shall,\" said the War-Lord whimsically. \"Perhaps I shall\nappreciate it all the more.\"\n\n\"Now, what means Your Majesty by that?\" cried Harold, wondering very\nmuch at these strange words. \"It was such a fine pie! A large, fat,\njuicy, rich, crisp, crusty pie,--just such a one as the King enjoyed in\nthe story.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know!\" said Red Rex. \"Go on with the story, right speedily, with\nno more details of that tantalizing, vanished pie!\" And he licked his\nlips and shifted his seat as he sat upon his hillock.\n\nObediently Harold opened the book which his chum Richard had handed to\nhim just inside the city gate, and began to read the toothsome tale of\n_The King's Pie_.\n\n\n\nXVI: THE KING'S PIE\n\nThere was great excitement in Kisington; for the King was coming with\nhis new young bride, and the town was preparing to give them a famous\nwelcome.\n\nHugh, the Lord Mayor, was at his wits' end with all that must be done.\nAs he sat in the Town Hall holding his aching head, while a mob of\ndecorators and artists and musicians, costumers, jewelers, and florists\nclamored about him, there came to him a messenger from Cedric, his son.\nCedric was one of the King's favorite friends, and he knew His Majesty's\ntaste well. So he had sent to the Lord Mayor a hint as to how the King\nmight best be pleased. Being a man of few words, this is how his message\nran:--\n\n\"His Majesty is exceedingly fond of pie.\"\n\nLong pondered the Lord Mayor over this mysterious message, reading it\nbackward and forward, upside down and crisscross, and mixed up like an\nanagram. But he could make nothing of it except what it\nstraightforwardly said: that the King was exceedingly fond of pie.\n\nNow, in those days pie meant but one thing--a pasty; that is, meat of\nsome sort baked in a dish covered with dough. At that time there was no\nsuch thing known as a pie made of fruit or mincemeat. Pie was not even a\ndainty. Pie was vulgar, ordinary victuals, and the Lord Mayor was\nshocked at his son's even mentioning pie in connection with the King.\n\n\"Pie, indeed!\" he shuddered. \"A pretty dish to set before a King on his\nwedding journey! How can pie be introduced into my grand pageant? The\nKing can get pie anywhere, in any hut or hovel along his way. What has\nKisington to do with pie?\"\n\nThe Lord Mayor snorted scornfully, and was about to dismiss his son's\nhint from his mind, when he had an idea! A Pie! A great, glorified,\npoetic, symbolic Pie such as could be carried in procession decorated\nwith flowers! That was a happy thought. The Lord Mayor dismissed every\none else and sent for all the master cooks of the city.\n\nIt was decided to accept Cedric's hint for what it was worth, and make\nPie the feature of the day. There should be a grand pageant of soldiers\nand maskers and music. And, following the other guilds, last of all\nshould come the cooks, with their ideas of Pie presented as attractively\nas might be, for the edification of the King. Moreover, the Lord Mayor\nsaid, in dismissing the white-capped company:--\n\n\"To whichever of you best pleases His Majesty with the pie, I will give\nthis reward: a team of white oxen, a hundred sacks of white flour, and a\nhundred pieces of white silver.\"\n\n\"Hurrah!\" shouted the cooks, waving their white caps. Then away they\nhurried to put on their thinking-caps instead and plan for the building\nof the King's Pie.\n\nNow, among the cooks of Kisington there were two brothers, Roger and\nRafe. Roger, the elder, had one of the hugest kitchens and shops in\nKisington. But Rafe, the younger, had only a little old house on an acre\nof land under a little red-apple tree, with a little red cow who gave a\nlittle rich cream every day. Rafe was very poor, and no richer for\nhaving a brother well-to-do like Roger. For the thrifty cook had little\nto do with Rafe, whose ways were not his ways.\n\nRafe cooked in his little kitchen for the poor folk of the town,\ncharging small prices such as they could pay. Indeed, often as not he\ngave away what he had cooked for himself to some one who seemed\nhungrier. This is a poor way to make profit of gold, but an excellent\nway to make profit of affection. And Rafe was rich in the love of the\nwhole town.\n\nRoger was among the cooks whom the Lord Mayor summoned to consult about\nthe King's Pie. But Rafe knew nothing at all of it, until one afternoon\nhe was surprised by a visit from his brother, who had not darkened his\ndoor for many a day.\n\n\"Well, Brother,\" said Roger, briefly, \"I suppose you are not busy, as I\nam. Will you work for me for a day or two? In fact, I need you.\"\n\n\"You need me!\" said Rafe, in surprise. \"How can that be, Brother?\"\n\n\"I have a great task at hand,\" said the master-cook; \"a task that needs\nextra help. You must come. Your own work can wait well enough, I judge.\"\n\nRafe hesitated. \"I must cook for my poor people first,\" he said.\n\nRoger sneered. \"Your poor people, indeed! I am cooking for the King!\nWill you hesitate now?\"\n\n\"Cooking for the King!\" cried Rafe. \"Ah, but he is not so hungry as my\nneighbors will be to-morrow without their rabbit-pies.\"\n\n\"Rabbit-pies! It is a pie for the King that I am making!\" shouted Roger,\nin high dudgeon,--\"such a pie as you and your louts never dreamed of.\nNow what say you? Will you come?\"\n\n\"I must do my own small cooking first,\" said Rafe firmly.\n\n\"Very well then,\" growled Roger. \"Cook for your beggars first; but come\nto me to-morrow. Every cook in town but you is engaged. I must have your\nhelp.\"\n\n\"I will come,\" said Rafe simply, and Roger bade him a surly good-bye\nwithout thanks or promises.\n\nThe next morning, when his own simple tasks were done, Rafe hied him to\nhis brother's kitchen, and there he found great doings. Roger was\nsuperintending the preparations for baking an enormous pie. A group of\nmasons had just finished building the huge oven out of doors, and about\na score of smiths were struggling with the pie-dish, which they had\nforged of iron. It was a circular dish six feet across and three feet\ndeep; and it looked more like a swimming-tank than anything else.\n\nRafe stared in amazement. \"Is that to hold your pie, Brother?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes!\" growled Roger. \"Now get to work with the other men, for the crust\nmust be baked this morning.\"\n\nThree assistant cooks in caps and aprons were busy sifting buckets of\nflour, measuring out handfuls of salt and butter. Others were practicing\nwith long rolling-pins made for the occasion, so big that a man had to\nroll at each end. On the ground lay a great round piece of tin, six feet\nacross, pierced full of holes.\n\n\"What is that?\" whispered Rafe to one of his fellow cooks.\n\n\"That is to be the lid of the pie,\" answered the cook. \"See, they are\nlifting it onto the dish now. It will have a strong hinge, and it will\nbe covered with crust.\"\n\n\"And what is to fill this marvelous pie?\" asked Rafe, wondering still\nmore. \"Tender capon? Rabbits? Venison? Peacocks? What is suitable for a\nKing? I do not know.\"\n\n\"Ah, there you show your lack of imagination!\" cried the cook. \"Master\nis a great man. This is a poetic pie. It is to be filled with flowers,\nand on the flowers will be sitting ten beautiful little children, pink\nand sweet as cherubs, dressed all in wreaths of flowers. And when the\npie reaches the King, the top will be opened, and they will all begin to\nsing a song in honor of Their Majesties. Is it not a pretty thought?\"\n\n\"Well, if the King be not too hungry,\" said the practical Rafe,\ndoubtfully.\n\n\"Nonsense!\" cried the cook testily. \"Would you make out our King to be a\ncannibal?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Rafe; \"that is why I doubt. However, I am here but to assist\nin this colossal plan. Hand me yon bag of salt.\"\n\nAll day long at Roger's kitchen the cooks worked over the King's Pie. At\nnoon came a band of ten mothers, each with a rosy, smiling baby. They\nplaced the children in the great shell to see how they would look. Every\none cried: \"Charming! Superb! But ah! we must not tell any one, for\nRoger has paid us well, and the other cooks must not know how he is to\nwin the prize to-morrow!\"\n\nWeary and unthanked, with his meager day's wage,--a little bag of flour\nand a pat of butter, sugar, and a handful of salt,--Rafe went home,\nmusing sadly. \"A team of white oxen; a hundred sacks of white flour; a\nhundred pieces of white silver,--what a prize! If only I could earn\nthese, I should be rich, indeed, and able to help my poor neighbors. But\nRoger will win the prize,\" he thought.\n\nHe spread on the table his frugal supper. He had emptied his larder that\nmorning for a sick woman. He had but a few apples and a bowl of cream.\nIt was the first food he had eaten that day, for his brother had\nforgotten to bid him to his table.\n\nAs he was taking a bite from one of the rosy-checked apples, there came\na tap at the door.\n\n\"Enter!\" cried Rafe hospitably. The hinges creaked, and there tottered\nin a little, bent, old woman in a long black cloak, leaning on a staff.\n\n\"Good evening, Son,\" she said, in a cracked voice. \"Are you a man of\ncharity, or will you turn away a poor old soul who has had nothing to\neat for many hours?\"\n\nRafe rose and led her to the table. \"Sit down, Mother,\" he said kindly.\n\"Sit and share my poor supper: a few apples from my little tree, a sup\nof the cream which my good little red cow gives me,--that is all; but\nyou are welcome.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Son,\" said the old woman, and without further words she began\nto eat. When she had finished she sat for a few moments looking into the\nempty bowl. Then she said:--\n\n\"Son, why do you not bake a pie for the King?\"\n\n\"I!\" cried Rafe, astonished. \"How can I make a pie? You see all I have\nin my cupboard. There is nothing but a little bag of flour, a pat of\nbutter, a handful of sugar and salt.\"\n\n\"It is enough,\" said the stranger. \"Son, I will show you a secret. You\nhave been kind to me. Now I will tell you that which until this day no\nman has known. You shall make the King a pie, indeed!\"\n\n\"But, Mother,\" interrupted Rafe, smiling, \"you do not know what manner\nof pies are being made. There will be many, though I have seen but\none--a giant pie, a glorious pie, all golden crust and flowers and pink\nlittle babies who sing!\"\n\n\"Humph!\" grunted the old woman. \"A pie for a pasteboard King. Why not\ncook a pie to tempt a hungry man?\"\n\n\"The King is, indeed, a man,\" mused Rafe. \"But how shall I make a pie\nwithout viands of any sort?\" (As I have said, to speak of a pie in those\ndays meant always a dish of meat or game or poultry.)\n\n\"I will tell you,\" said the old woman. \"Have you not a tree of red\napples? Yes, luscious apples of a goodly flavor, for I have tasted\nthem.\" She leaned forward, whispering earnestly: \"Make your pie of them,\nmy Son!\"\n\n\"Apples! A pie of apples!\" cried Rafe. \"Who ever heard of such a thing!\"\n(And at this time, indeed, no one had.)\n\n\"Nay, you need not laugh so scornfully,\" said the old crone. \"You shall\nsee! I will help you.\"\n\nAt her command Rafe fetched out the bag of flour, and the butter, salt,\nand sugar. Then he went to gather a basket of apples, while the old\nwoman mended the fire and mixed the dough. Wonderingly he watched her\npare the apples, core and slice them, and cover all with a blanket of\ncrust laid softly over, but not tucked in at the edges as for an\nordinary pasty. Soon the pie was baked, all flaky and brown. When it\ncame smoking hot from the oven, the old woman slipped a knife under the\nblanket of crust and lifted it aside.\n\n\"See,\" she said, \"the apples are steamed and soft. Now I will mash them\nwith a knife and mix the butter and sugar generously therein. This one\nmust ever do, Son, last of all. This is the crown of my secret, the only\nrecipe for a perfect pie.\"\n\nRafe watched her curiously, by no means convinced. Then, from a pouch\nsomewhere concealed in her robe, she drew out a strange round nut, such\nas Rafe had never seen before.\n\n\"This is the final blessing,\" she said. \"See, I will grate a little of\nthis magic nut into the pie.\" Forthwith it was done, and a whiff of\nspicy fragrance reached Rafe's nose, and, more than anything, gave him\nconfidence in this strange new pie.\n\n\"It smells worthy,\" said Rafe hungrily.\n\nWithout a word the stranger drew from under a cover a little pie baked\nin a tiny tin, an exact copy of the other. \"Eat,\" she said: \"eat and\njudge if my secret be worth keeping.\"\n\nRafe sunk his teeth into the warm, crisp crust and ate eagerly. His eyes\nsparkled, but he spoke no word till the last crumb was gone.\n\n\"Oh!\" he said, \"it is a magic pie! Never such have I met before! Never,\nin all my life!\"\n\nThe old woman nodded. \"A magic pie,\" she said. \"And still better when\nyou serve it with the yellow cream of your little red cow.\"\n\n\"It is a pie for a King!\" said Rafe. \"But shall I be allowed in the\nprocession, Mother?\"\n\n\"All the cooks in Kisington who choose may march with that guild,\" said\nthe old woman. \"Bear your pie proudly in your own hands, wearing your\ncap and apron. I will send some one to walk beside you and carry the jug\nof cream. She shall be here to-morrow when you milk the little red cow.\nTreat her kindly for my sake.\"\n\n\"Mother, how can I ever thank you--\" began Rafe. But, with a quickness\nwhich seemed impossible to her years, the old woman had slipped out of\nthe door and was gone.\n\nThe next morning bright and early Rafe went out to milk his cow. And\nthere beside the cow stood a young maid, the fairest he had ever seen.\n\n\"Good morning, Rafe,\" said the maid, dropping a curtsy. \"I am Meg, and I\nhave come to help you carry the King's Pie.\" She smiled so sweetly that\nRafe's heart danced a jig. She was dressed in a neat little gown of blue\nwith a white apron, and had set a dainty cook's cap on her flaxen curls.\nAnd she wore red stockings and shoes, with silver buckles. From under\nher apron she drew a little blue jug. \"See, I have brought this to hold\nthe cream,\" she said, \"and it is full of red strawberries for your\nbreakfast. Milk the little red cow, Rafe, and then we can eat and be\ngone as soon as I have skimmed the cream of yesterday.\"\n\nIn a happy daze Rafe did as she bade. Merrily they breakfasted together\non a wheaten loaf and milk and berries which the maid had brought, as if\nshe knew how hungry Rafe would be. Then Meg skimmed the cream for the\nblue jug, and they were ready to start. Rafe, in his white cap and\napron, bore the precious pie, while Meg walked along at his side. A\nmerry, handsome couple they were.\n\nWhen they came to the market-place they found a great crowd assembled.\n\"Ho, Rafe! Rafe!\" people shouted to him, for every one knew and loved\nhim. \"Come here! Come with us!\"\n\nBut Rafe answered: \"Nay. I am going to walk in the procession with the\nother cooks. I have a pie for the King.\"\n\n\"A pie! A pie!\" they cried good-naturedly. \"Look at Rafe's pasty! Of\nwhat is it made, Rafe? Grasshoppers or mice?\" For they knew how poor he\nwas. But Rafe only smiled and pushed his way to where the cooks were\ngathered. They, too, greeted him with jests. But he insisted that he\nmust march with them. So they gave him place at the very end of the\nline, with the little maid at his side. But when he saw the wonderful\npies all around him, he sighed and shook his head, looking ruefully at\nhis own simple offering. The little maid, seeing him so look, said:--\n\n\"Never mind, Rafe. You are giving your best to the King. No one can do\nmore than that.\"\n\nThe people waited. The hands of the great clock in the market-place\ncrept slowly around until they marked noon. Every one began to feel\nuneasy, for it was close upon the dinner-hour, and the long procession\nhad not moved. The King and Queen were late.\n\nAt last there sounded the blast of a trumpet, which told that the King\nand his bride had arrived, and that the Lord Mayor had led them to their\nseats on the balcony in front of the Town Hall. Every one gave a sigh of\nrelief. But then there was another long wait, while the hands of the\nclock crept on--on, and the people watched and craned their necks\neagerly. The Lord Mayor was making his speech, and it was very long.\nFinally arose more shouts and huzzas,--not because the speech was good,\nbut because it was ended. And presently another trumpet gave signal for\nthe procession to start.\n\nOff they went, through the streets full of cheering, hungry people.\nSoldiers and bands of music led the way; then came the maskers and the\nflower-maidens, the city guilds and all the arts and crafts. Finally\npassed along the yoke of snowy oxen, with ribbons in their ears, drawing\na white wain in which were the bags of flour and silver, the prize to be\ngiven the best pie-maker of Kisington. When the company of white-capped\ncooks came within sight of the King, he laughed merrily, rubbing his\nhands, and said:--\n\n\"Cooks! Now we shall have something worth while, for I am growing\nhungry, indeed!\"\n\nAnd the young Queen whispered: \"So am I!\"\n\nThen came the pies. And such pies! Carried on the shoulders of sturdy\nboys, drawn on floats by teams of ponies, wreathed in flowers and stuck\nover with banners and mottoes, the pies passed along before the hungry\nKing. And not one of the pies was real! Gradually the King's smile\nfaded.\n\nThere was a wonderful big pie fashioned like a ship,--rigged with masts\nand sails and manned by sailor-dolls. There was a fine brown pasty like\na bird's nest, and when it passed the King, off came the cover, and out\nflew four-and-twenty blackbirds croaking lustily.\n\n\"Good-bye, dinner!\" sighed the King, looking after them wistfully.\n\nThe Queen nudged him and said: \"'Sh! Behave, Your Majesty!\" But she also\nbegan to look hungrier and hungrier.\n\nThere passed a pie in a carriage drawn by six mules. It seemed piping\nhot, for steam came out of it. But when it reached the King it blew up\nwith a _bang!_ scattering showers of blossoms over the royal party.\n\n\"My faith!\" cried the King; \"methought this was the end of all things.\nBut it seems not. Here come more and more empty pies!\"\n\nThe Queen smelled of her salts and grew paler every moment.\n\nOne pie had a musical box inside and played a sweet tune as it passed\nthe King. In one was hidden a tiny dwarf, who popped out like a\njack-in-the-box when the Queen pulled a golden cord.\n\nStill the procession moved on, and so did the hands of the clock; and\nthe King's hands moved to his ample girdle, which he tightened sharply.\nBut both he and the pale young Queen were too polite to ask the Lord\nMayor for buns or something to sustain them.\n\nThe pie which caused the greatest excitement as it passed along, drawn\nby four white horses, was that of Roger, the master cook, who walked\nproudly beside it. When it came opposite the King the carriage stopped,\nthe cover was lifted, and ten beautiful babies on a bed of roses waved\ntheir little hands and began to sing.\n\nThe Queen leaned forward eagerly, forgetting to be hungry. \"How sweet!\nThe darlings!\" she murmured. \"Oh, this is the best of all!\"\n\nRoger the cook heard her and flushed with triumph.\n\nBut the King grumbled: \"Humph! They look good enough to eat, but--my\nfaith! I hope that this is the end, for soon I must eat something, or I\nshall become a cannibal!\"\n\n\"Your Majesty!\" protested the Queen, faintly.\n\nBut the King interrupted her.\n\n\"What comes here?\" he cried. \"This looks sensible!\" It was Rafe and the\npretty maid bringing up the rear of the procession. Side by side they\nwalked in cap and apron, he bearing the small, delicately browned pie,\nshe with a jug of yellow cream. No one paid any attention to them, but\nclosed in around them, following Roger's chariot.\n\nWhen Rafe and Meg came opposite the King and Queen, they turned and Rafe\nbowed low, holding up the pie as high as he could. The pretty maid\ncurtsied gracefully, and offered the cream-jug with a winsome smile. The\ncrowd was fain to hustle them on; but the King struck the floor with his\nstaff and pointed eagerly at the pie.\n\n\"Hold!\" he cried. \"What have you there?\" Every one stopped and began to\nstare. Rafe bowed again.\n\n\"'T is a pie, Your Majesty,\" said Rafe simply,--\"an apple pie.\"\n\n\"With cream for the top,\" lisped the little maid, curtsying again.\n\n\"Apple pie!\" cried the King. \"Who ever heard of an apple pie! A pie\nshould be of savory meat. But of apples!\" Words failed to express his\nastonishment.\n\n\"Butter and sugar, Sire, go to the making of it, and the dust of a\nwondrous nut. Will you taste it, Sire?\" Rafe held out the pie\ntemptingly.\n\n\"With thick cream to pour on the top--yellow, sweet, rich, thick cream!\"\nsaid Meg, lingering over each word as if it melted on her lips.\n\n\"Give hither that pie!\" almost shouted the hungry King. \"I will look\ninto this matter.\" And, drawing a dagger from his girdle, he seized and\nstabbed the pie to the heart. Sniffing at it eagerly, his eyes grew\nround, and he smacked his lips. \"It is good, I wager my scepter!\" he\ncried. \"Hand me the cream, fair maid.\"\n\nThe little maid stepped up and daintily poured cream upon the shattered\npie, and without more ado the King began to eat with his dagger. (This\nwas not considered bad manners in those days.) After the first mouthful\nhe stopped only to say: \"Food of the Fairies! Pie of the Pixies! Cook,\nyou are a magician!\" He went on at a rate which threatened not to leave\na mouthful.\n\nBut the Queen pulled at his sleeve. \"A bite for me, Your Majesty,\" she\nbegged.\n\nAnd, with an apology, the King handed her what was left, watching her\nwistfully till she ate the last crumb.\n\n\"Delicious! I never tasted anything finer!\" she cried. \"I must have the\nrecipe.\"\n\n\"I must have the cook!\" cried the King, turning to Rafe, with a broad\ngrin on his merry, fat face. \"You must come with me and cook such pies\nfor every meal. Yes, I will have them for breakfast, too,\" he insisted,\nin response to a protest from the Queen.\n\nJust then up stepped Hugh, the Lord Mayor.\n\n\"Sire,\" said he, bowing low, \"will Your Majesty deign to point out to me\nthe pie which has best pleased you, that I may have it set in the place\nof honor, and give the prize to the maker?\"\n\n\"That I cannot do,\" said the King, \"for the pie no longer exists. I have\neaten it!\" And he slapped his generous waistband. \"But give whatever\nprize there may be to this worthy fellow, whom I now dub Baron Applepy.\nBaron, wear this ring in token of my pleasure in your pie.\" He drew a\nfine ruby from his finger and gave it to Rafe.\n\n\"And this is for the little maid,\" said the Queen, taking a beautiful\npearl necklace and tossing it over Meg's curls.\n\nBut Roger, the master cook, stood by and tore his hair when he saw what\nwas happening.\n\nThen up came the yoke of white oxen drawing the cart bearing the prize.\nAnd the Lord Mayor gave a goad into Rafe's hands, with words of\ncongratulation.\n\n\"Now, mount and come with me,\" said the King.\n\nBut Rafe hesitated.\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" he replied, \"I see no way to make another pie like this\nwhich has pleased you. For I have no more of the magic nuts wherewith to\nflavor a second.\"\n\nThe King frowned. \"What! No more pie! Is this to be the first and the\nlast? Sirrah, I am not pleased!\"\n\nThen little Meg stepped forth. \"The magic nut is the nutmeg,\" said she.\n\"My name is Meg, and Granny called the magic nuts after me. I know where\nis hidden a store of them. These are my dower.\"\n\nShe emptied her pockets of the nuts which they held, and they were a\nprecious handful.\n\n\"Ha!\" cried the King eagerly, \"you must marry Baron Applepy, that he may\nuse your dower in our behalf.\"\n\nRafe and the maid looked sidewise at one another.\n\n\"You are willing, my dear?\" said the Queen, smiling upon Meg.\n\n\"Yes,\" whispered she, with red-apple cheeks.\n\n\"Yes, indeed!\" cried Rafe when the Queen looked at him.\n\nBut again he seemed troubled.\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" he said, \"I cannot leave my poor neighbors. There will\nbe no one to cook for them at my prices.\"\n\n\"You shall have your own price from me,\" said the King.\n\nRafe bowed low. \"You do me great honor,\" he said humbly. \"But I cannot\nleave my poor people, my house and my cow and my apple tree; indeed, I\ncannot.\"\n\nThe King looked very angry and raised his staff with a gesture of wrath.\nBut the Queen laid her hand upon his arm.\n\n\"Why may he not live where he will and yet cook the pies for us?\" she\nsaid. \"A messenger on a fleet horse can bring them to us every day. We\nshall then have pies like that first delicious one, made of fresh apples\nfrom that very same red-apple tree of his. They would be best of all.\"\n\n\"True,\" said the King, reflecting for a moment.\n\n\"Please, Your Majesty!\" said Meg, in her most winsome tones. \"I do so\nlong to help Rafe pick the red apples for your pies and skim the yellow\ncream of the little red cow. And please, I do so long to help him cook\nfor his poor neighbors, who will miss him sadly if he goes. Now that we\nhave the prize, we can do much for them. Please, Your Majesty!\"\n\n\"Please, Your Majesty!\" echoed Rafe.\n\n\"Please, Your Majesty!\" begged the Queen.\n\nSo the King hemmed and hawed and yielded. \"But see, Baron Applepy,\" he\nsaid, \"that you make me three fine pies every day, for which my swiftest\nmessenger shall call. Now, farewell to you--and to all! We must be off.\nIt is past dinner-time.\"\n\n\"Heaven bless Your Majesties,\" said Rafe and Meg, bowing and curtsying\nlow.\n\nThen Rafe lifted the little maid into the white cart beside the hundred\nsacks of flour and the bag of silver, and amid shouts and cheers away\nthey drove the white oxen toward the little house on the acre of land\nunder the red-apple tree, where the little red cow was waiting for them.\n\nAnd there they lived happily ever after, making three pies a day for the\nKing at an enormous price, and feeding the beloved poor people, their\nneighbors, for no price at all.\n\n\n\nXVII: THE MYSTERY OF THE PIE\n\nRed Rex greeted the close of this story with an enormous sigh. \"Three of\nthose delicious pies every day!\" said he. \"Would I had a messenger to\nbring such to me!\"\n\n\"It might be arranged, Your Majesty,\" suggested Harold, \"if our two\ncountries were at peace. I know that my mother would be glad to make\nsuch pies for you, even as Rafe and his Margot did for the King of old.\nThe distance from Kisington to your Capitol is not so very great, I\nthink; and doubtless Your Majesty has messengers fleeter than the one of\nlong ago.\"\n\n\"And your mother's pies are quite as good!\" exclaimed Red Rex. \"I have\nnever tasted better. So fat, so juicy, so generous! The tops fine,\nrounded hills; the crust so crisp, which your knife crunches daintily;\nthe sight and smell of them is tempting!\" The Red King's eyes rolled in\nhis head and he swayed ecstatically, like a poet composing a rhyme.\n\n\"And yet you have seen but a wee wedge of one pie!\" exclaimed Harold.\n\"It must have pleased Your Majesty, indeed, to make your impression so\ntrue.\"\n\nRed Rex eyed him strangely. \"H'm, yes,\" he said. \"I have a vivid\nimagination in such matters. I can almost fancy I have eaten a whole\npie--two--three--four whole pies! What a feast!\"\n\nHarold's eyes had been straying toward something white concealed in the\ngrass not far from the Red King's seat. He took a step forward now,\nbending low. Then he uttered an exclamation.\n\n\"Five pies, Your Majesty!\" he cried, looking straight at the King.\n\"There were six, which the old woman stole. Here are five empty\npie-plates!\"\n\n\"What a strange coincidence!\" cried the Red King, flushing and twiddling\nat his sword-hilt uneasily. \"These coincidences do happen quite\nstartlingly sometimes. Ha-hum!\" He coughed and frowned forbiddingly.\n\n\"Surely, none of your men could have stolen my mother's pies (and,\nindeed, one of them was yours), Your Majesty. They would not have been\nso mean!\"\n\n\"They would not have been so reckless,\" corrected Red Rex. \"No, no! it\ntook courage to make such an attempt; great courage, my boy!\"\n\n\"Courage!\" cried Harold. \"I call it something else,--to steal the pies\nof a poor widow and deprive her son of his desserts. I call it mean and\ndisgraceful!\"\n\n\"Tut, tut, boy! You do not know what you are saying!\" blustered the\nWar-Lord, growing very red.\n\n\"Often it takes courage to do what others call an ill deed. And an ill\ndeed is ill, only as you look at it; so I say! Everything depends upon\nthe point of view; remember that. Suppose the man who stole those pies\nwas starving and needed them for his comfort?\"\n\n\"Suppose, indeed!\" retorted Harold. \"Suppose he came to our front door\nand asked my mother for them, like a gentleman? She would not have\nrefused to sell, if he had money. She would have given, if he had none.\nShe is like that, is my good mother!\"\n\nThe Red King shook his head. \"Suppose the man was an enemy, and too\nproud to ask a favor? All's fair in war, my boy. Everybody knows that.\"\n\n\"Then war is all wrong, as we always said,\" Harold replied. \"Right is\nright, and wrong is wrong. Stealing is stealing, and meanness is\nmeanness,--war or no war. If war makes men think differently from the\nrule of every day, there is nothing to be said for it. Hello!\" Harold\ninterrupted himself, for something else had suddenly caught his eye.\n\nHe had been making his way toward the pile of pie-plates, and now he\nstooped and picked up something lying on the grass beside them. It was a\nqueer, old-fashioned bonnet. As he touched it out fell a rolled-up\ncalico apron. One of the strings was gone. Harold's eyes leaped from it\nto the Red King's bundled-up wrist. The other apron-string was doing\nduty as a bandage there.\n\n\"Ho! Ho!\" cried Harold, staring at the Red King's purpling face. \"This\nis the old woman's bonnet, and her apron. A disguise! I begin to see!\nYou, Your Majesty,--you were the old woman yourself!\"\n\n\"You are very sharp, youngster!\" said Red Rex sulkily. \"Begone to your\nhome and leave me to finish my work.\"\n\n\"If I go,\" said Harold slowly, \"I shall tell the whole town what I have\ndiscovered. The news will travel through the Five Kingdoms--how a King\ndisguised as an old woman stole six pies--\"\n\n\"Hold!\" cried Red Rex sternly. \"Enough of this impertinence! Remember to\nwhom you speak, boy! I am a King.\"\n\n\"Yes, you are that King. But I thought always it was the '_Knave_ of\nHearts who stole the tarts,' not the King. How did Your Majesty manage\nto do it?\" asked Harold curiously.\n\n\"Aha!\" The Red King tried to appear easy and unconscious. \"It is my turn\nnow to tell a story, is it? Oho! You want to hear how the old woman got\ninto your careless town, do you? And how she went along your unguarded\nstreets, do you? And how she crept into your unbolted cottage, do you?\nAnd how she found the goodly row of pies sitting on the pantry shelf?\nAh! I shall never look upon their like again!\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" said Harold promptly. \"And one was yours, Your Majesty.\"\n\nRed Rex cast down his eyes. \"That is the thing that chiefly troubles\nme,\" he said. \"I am sorry I did not know the fact. Your mother was very\nthoughtful, Harold.\"\n\n\"Please tell me all about it, Your Majesty?\" begged Harold, settling\nhimself comfortably on the grass before the War-Lord. \"I want to hear\nthe story. It is your turn now. You owe me that, at least.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Red Rex choosing his words slowly. \"You see, I had to have\nthose pies. Kings may take what they choose, because,--well, because\nthey are Kings. That is reason enough,--say I! After that first bite you\ngave me, I felt that I needed more to make me happy. A King has a right\nto be happy, whatever happens to another,--say I. I had brought\ndisguises with me; for we have ever found them useful in making war.\nLast night I dressed up as an old woman, in petticoat and apron, bonnet\nand shawl. None of my men knew. As soon as it was dark I went to the\ngate of your town, pretending to be a countrywoman returning to\nKisington from a visit beyond the frontier, who had not heard of the\nsiege, and begged the guard to let me in quickly out of danger's way.\nOh! You are such stupid, trusting folk in your Kingdom! The men believed\nme, and let me in because I seemed old and it was late, and they pitied\nme. The fools! Pity is out of place in war-time. A city so ill-defended\ndeserves to be taken and harassed,--say I!\"\n\n\"We are trustful in our town because our own hearts are truthful and\nkind,\" said Harold.\n\n\"When the warders had let me in,\" went on Red Rex, \"I passed along the\nmain street toward the market-place, with my basket on my arm; and no\none noticed me, for it was dark. I knew my way; you told me yesterday\nhow the streets lay. Presently I came to a great, handsome building with\na ruined porch,--upon my word, huge as my summer palace by the sea!--out\nof which people passed in a constant stream, with books under their\narms.\"\n\n\"It was our library,\" said Harold proudly.\n\n\"So I judged,\" went on the Red King. \"I concealed myself in an angle of\nthe building until it should be darker, and watched. Little children\ncame out of that library, who in my country would be playing at war with\nguns and toy cannon. Old men and women, whom I should expect to see\ncaring only to smoke and mumble and gossip about past wars, brought out\nbooks which they hugged lovingly. Young maids, such as in my land care\nonly to look at the soldiers and dance and prink; and young men who\nshould be drilling or dueling or talking war,--all these came out\nlooking happy and content with the books which they had in hand. I never\nsaw such a sight!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Harold; \"It is always so in Kisington. We have no time to\nthink about war or soldiers or killing.\"\n\n\"Strange!\" muttered Red Rex. \"I was tempted to go myself into that great\nbuilding and see if any book might be found with a message in it for me.\nBut I did not take the risk.\"\n\n\"I know such a Book!\" interrupted Harold; \"a Book of Peace.\"\n\n\"I guess what you mean,\" said the Red King hastily. \"We have that Book\nin my kingdom, too, of course. We honor it highly,--do not think\notherwise! We have it in the churches, and bind it in gold, and keep it\nas something curious and old. But we do not often read it--why should\nwe? A peace book has no message for our brave and warlike people. To\nthink so is absurd!\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said Harold.\n\n\"Well,\" continued Red Rex; \"after a long, long time the streets were\nquite empty. Presently I heard the chimes of midnight. Then I crept out\nof my hiding-place and stole along the High Street, of which you had\ntold me, till I came to the butcher's shop. Beside it, sure enough, was\na little cottage with a thatched roof which I knew must be yours. The\nwindow was open, and I looked in; no one about. The door was unlocked,\nand in I went. What carelessness!\"\n\n\"We never lock our doors in Kisington,\" said Harold. \"We think it would\nbe rude not to trust our good neighbors, who trust us.\"\n\n\"Huh!\" grunted the Red King. \"In my Kingdom every door is double-barred,\nlocked and bolted beside. He who trusts nobody is never\ndisappointed,--so I say.\"\n\n\"I should hate to live in that kind of Kingdom,\" murmured Harold. \"But I\nknow what happened next,\" he went on, continuing the Red King's story.\n\"You fumbled along the wall with a noise like a mouse. You stepped on a\ncreaky board.\"\n\n\"I crossed the kitchen on tiptoe,\" said Red Rex. \"I challenge any man of\nmy size to go more softly. Not a sound in the little house; no trace of\nyou. My dark lantern showed me two doors. I knew one must lead to the\npantry,--but which? Do you know what I did? Ah, I am clever! I put my\near to each door in turn. At one I heard no sound. At the other,\npresently, I caught the noise of gentle snoring. Just then,--some one\nsneezed.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Harold; \"I tried to smother it, but I could not do so.\"\n\n\"By that sneeze I knew certainly that this was your bedroom, and that\nthe other must be the pantry. I kept very quiet, and there was no more\nsound from you. I hoped you were asleep. I opened the pantry door very\ngently, and crept in. I flashed my lantern upon the shelves. Ah! There\nthey were,--six beautiful, brown, luscious apple pies, as you had said.\nUm! Um! I could hardly wait to begin. I pulled out my dagger and\nattacked one of them. It melted in the mouth like magic! Just then I\nheard a hullabaloo from your bedroom. What lungs you have, you rascal!\"\n\n\"I yelled as loudly as I could,\" said Harold modestly. \"But Robert can\nmake more noise.\"\n\n\"I hope I may never hear him, then!\" cried Red Rex. \"Well; I heard the\nkey turn in the lock, and knew you had trapped me, you dog! I heard\nsteps on the stair, and knew I had no time to waste. Hastily I put the\nfive remaining pies in my basket and made for the window. I knew it\nwould never do for me to be caught in Kisington! To be sure, there was a\ntruce. But I did not know how your Magistrates might regard the right of\na King to take his own way with a truce. What triumph for your city to\ncapture me, the besieging War-Lord! It might not be. But your pantry\nwindow is of a smallness! I nearly perished in my attempt to squeeze\nthrough. The glass cut my hand and my forehead. I thought once I was\nstuck for good. Some one clutched at my shawl. I let it go. It is\npriceless, woven tissue of the East; but I let it go.\"\n\n\"We have it safe,\" said Harold.\n\n\"I shall never claim it,\" asserted Red Rex. \"Well, soon I was safe\noutside. I found myself in your back garden, on the city wall. You folk\nare so careless,--to build houses on a city wall! From there one can\ndrop into safety without any trouble. I did so. It is your own fault if\nfugitives escape from your city,--say I. Whatever happens to you, it is\nyour own fault,--say I!\"\n\n\"Then it will be your own fault if I tell this tale of you to our City\nFathers to-morrow,--say I.\" Harold looked at Red Rex mischievously.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Red King hastily. \"You must not betray me. This tale\nmust not become common history. No one will understand my point of view.\nI begin to think that no one will see my bravery in making this attempt.\nSo few persons are open-minded and generous! You will not tell your City\nFathers, Harold? _Noblesse oblige_, remember. You are my guest, and I\nhave told you a tale in return for yours. I could detain you by force,\nbreaking the truce yet once more. But I will not do so. I suppose I am a\nfool!\"\n\nHarold had been thinking hard. \"No; I will not tell the story,--but on\ntwo conditions.\"\n\n\"What are they?\" asked Red Rex.\n\n\"The first is this,\" said Harold. \"For the sake of the pies you stole\n(one of which was your own), during the siege of Kisington you shall\nspare from force or damage that part of the city in which stands my\nmother's little house.\"\n\n\"Gladly will I promise that,\" agreed the Red King.\n\n\"Spare the _north_, then,\" said Harold, pointing. \"You must not aim any\nweapons against the north.\"\n\n\"The north is safe,\" repeated Red Rex. \"I agree not to point weapon or\naim force against the north section of your city.\"\n\n\"Then all Kisington is saved!\" cried Harold. \"Already, before now, Your\nMajesty has promised to spare the _east_,--for the sake of Gerda's\ngarden; the _west_,--for the children's school, in the name of your\nHope. Now you promise to spare the _north_. The south only remains,--and\nthat is _here_, Your Majesty, outside the walls!\"\n\nRed Rex grinned sheepishly. \"Harold,\" he said. \"You have outwitted me,\nand outplayed me. Kisington is indeed safe from me. I have no choice now\nbut to raise the siege and go my way home. And to tell you the truth, I\nshall not be sorry to spare the town. Since visiting, even so briefly,\nwithin your walls, seeing the kind-faced people, the goodly buildings,\nand especially the noble library, I have conceived an affection for the\nplace. I am glad of an excuse not to destroy it. If it were possible,\nindeed, I would that I might see the interior of that house of books. I\nwould fain know more of the Chronicles of Kisington.\"\n\n\"Why may it not be, Your Majesty?\" said Harold. \"We will say nothing of\nthis night's adventure. Come to-morrow with a flag of truce and be our\nguest, even as I have been yours. I will show you our library. Maybe you\nwill hear another tale, even in that noble home of books.--But first you\nmust hear to my second condition.\"\n\n\"True; I forgot that,\" said Red Rex gravely. \"What is your second\ndemand, Harold?\"\n\n\"It is this,\" said Harold with a twinkle in his eye. \"Your Majesty tells\na tale so well, I fain would hear another. To-morrow you shall tell me a\ntale. I make that my second condition.\"\n\nRed Rex hesitated, hummed and hawed. \"Needs must,\" he said at last.\n\"Though I am no story-teller, I will think up some yarn from the tales I\nhave heard in my travels, and that you shall hear, my boy. But surely, I\nneed tell it to no others than yourself?\"\n\nThe Red King looked so miserable at the idea of talking to an audience\nthat Harold laughed and said,--\"Nay, Your Majesty. Let me have the treat\nto myself. I will come here as before, after school, hear the story, and\nthen bring you back with me. The town will receive you as an honored\nguest, and we will make high carnival.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Red Rex.\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Harold, and they shook hands formally.\n\nThe Red King had one last word. \"Harold,\" he said shamefacedly, \"I am\nsorry about the pies. I am ashamed. I would give them back, if I could.\nI will pay for them roundly.\"\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" said Harold graciously, \"do not mention it!\"\n\nHere follows the tale which the Red King told to Harold on the next day;\na tale which he had heard in his wanderings in a New World far across\nthe ocean to the west; a tale of the Red People--_Little Bear_.\n\n\n\nXVIII: LITTLE BEAR: AN OJIBWAY LEGEND\n\nOnce upon a time there was an old Indian couple who had three daughters,\nbut no son. The two older girls were very beautiful; but the youngest\nwas plain and unlovely. Yet she was the wisest of the three. Her name\nwas Little Bear.\n\nNow, there came a time when the father and mother grew too old to work\nas they had done all their lives. It became necessary that the two older\ndaughters, who were strapping big girls, should go away to find work in\norder to take care of the family.\n\n\"Take me with you,\" begged Little Bear.\n\nBut the older sisters shook their heads.\n\n\"No,\" they answered; \"you would be of no use to us. You are too little.\nYou must stay at home.\"\n\nThe two sisters started upon their journey alone. But they had not gone\nfar when they heard the patter of feet behind them. They looked around,\nand there was Little Bear running after them as fast as she could go.\nThe sisters were very angry. They took Little Bear and tied her to the\nposts of the wigwam, so that she should not follow them again. Then once\nmore they started upon their journey.\n\nThey had traveled but a short distance when again they heard a noise\nbehind them. And there was Little Bear running toward them with the\npoles of the wigwam upon her back.\n\nThe sisters were astonished and very angry indeed. They undid Little\nBear from the posts and tied her instead to a huge pine tree which grew\nclose by. And they said: \"Now will you stay where we leave you, bad\nLittle Bear?\"\n\nOnce more they went upon their way. But a third time they had not gone\nfar when they heard a great noise behind them. _Bumpety-bump!\nBumpety-bump!_ Along came Little Bear with the pine tree upon her\nshoulders!\n\nThe sisters were now very, very angry. They untied Little Bear crossly,\nwith many jerks, and fastened her to a great rock on the side of the\nhill. And they said: \"Now we shall see whether you are anchored or not,\nyou obstinate Little Bear!\" So they went upon their way.\n\nPresently they came to a wide river, and they had no boat in which to\ncross. They sat down upon the shore and moped, seeing no way to continue\ntheir journey.\n\nBut suddenly they heard a terrible noise behind them, and there once\nmore was Little Bear, running toward them with the great rock on her\nback.\n\nThis time the sisters were glad enough to see her. They unfastened the\nrock and threw it into the middle of the river. Then they laid the pine\ntree upon the rock, and so they had a bridge upon which to cross.\nMerrily they passed over, all three. For this time Little Bear went with\nthe other two. And they did not send her away, because she was so strong\nand useful. Presently, on the other side of the river, they came to a\nwigwam, where lived an old witch-woman with her two daughters.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" asked the old woman.\n\n\"Our parents are very old,\" said the three girls, \"and we are going to\nseek our fortune.\"\n\n\"Come in,\" said the old woman kindly. \"Come in and have supper with us,\nand sleep to-night in the wigwam with my daughters.\"\n\nThe travelers were glad to go in, for it was growing late. They had a\nnice supper in the tent, and when it was night the daughters of the old\nwoman and Little Bear's two sisters went to sleep in a huge bed. The\nsisters of Little Bear were on the outside, with the two others between\nthem.\n\nLittle Bear did not go to bed. She sat up with the old woman beside the\ncamp-fire, telling stories, until it was very late and the old woman\nfell sound asleep. She snored loudly; but to make sure, Little Bear\nreached out and pinched her gently.\n\nWhen she found that it was not shamming, she crept softly to the bed\nwhere the four girls slept and changed their places. After this Little\nBear's sisters were in the middle, and the old woman's daughters on the\noutside. When Little Bear had done this, she crept back to the fire and\nlay down, pretending to be asleep.\n\nIn a little while the old woman awoke and pinched Little Bear to see\nwhether or not she was really asleep; and although it hurt dreadfully,\nLittle Bear did not stir, or make a sound, but seemed to be dreaming\nfast. Then the wicked old woman sharpened her long, bright knife and\nstole to the bed where the girls were sleeping, and before they knew\nwhat was happening she had cut off the heads of the two girls on the\nouter sides of the bed. But it was her own two daughters whom the cruel\ncreature had killed, though she did not know it, in the dark! The wicked\nold woman lay down to sleep, chuckling to herself. But when all was\nquiet, Little Bear awoke her two sisters and they all three crept away\nfrom that cruel wigwam, hurrying on their journey.\n\nNow, in the morning when the old woman awoke and found what a dreadful\nthing she had done, she was annoyed. She screamed and cried and tore her\nhair, and then she jumped up into the sky and pulled down the sun from\nits place, hiding it away in her wigwam, so that Little Bear and her\nsisters might be lost in the dark.\n\nIn the pitchy blackness, worse than night, because there were no stars,\nthe three stumbled on and on, groping their way; and it was very\nuncomfortable indeed. At any moment they might run into some terrible\ndanger.\n\nAt last they saw the flicker of a little light, and made their way\ntoward it. They found that it was a man carrying a torch and looking\nabout for something.\n\n\"What are you looking for?\" they asked.\n\n\"I am looking for the sun,\" answered the man. \"The sun is lost, and we\nare in great trouble because of it. Tell me, have you seen the sun?\"\n\nThey said \"No,\" and asked him to lead them to his village, which he did.\nAnd when they came near they saw the twinkle of many lights. All the men\nof the town were looking for the sun, and there was great distress among\nthem because their Chief was ill, and he could not get well until the\nsun should be put back into his place in the sky, and the days be bright\nagain.\n\nLittle Bear asked to see the Chief, and they took her to where he lay\ndying.\n\n\"Great Chief,\" said she, \"I think that I can help you.\"\n\n\"Can you bring back the sun, Maiden?\" asked the Chief feebly. \"That is\nthe only thing that will help me.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can do so if you will give me two handsful of maple sugar and\nyour oldest son,\" said Little Bear.\n\nThe Chief agreed. Little Bear took the maple sugar and went back to the\nwigwam of the wicked old woman. She climbed up on the outside and threw\nthe sugar down through the chimney-hole into the kettle of rice which\nthe old crone was cooking. Presently the hag tasted it and made a wry\nface.\n\n\"Bah!\" she cried; \"it is too sweet. I must go and get some more water to\nput in the kettle.\"\n\nAs soon as the old woman left the wigwam to get the water, Little Bear\njumped down from the tent-roof, ran inside, and found the sun where the\nwitch had hidden it away. Up she tossed it into the sky; and lo! the\nworld was bright and beautiful once more.\n\nThen she returned to the village, where the old Chief received her\ngratefully. As he had promised, he bestowed upon her his oldest son. But\nLittle Bear did not want him. So she gave the young Chief to her eldest\nsister for a husband; and they were very happy.\n\nNow, when the old woman saw the sun shining once more in his usual\nplace, she was very angry. She screamed and she cried and she tore her\nhair. Once more she jumped up into the sky, and this time she tore down\nthe moon, hiding it away in her wigwam, just as she had hidden the sun.\n\nThen again the good old Chief fell sick, because now the nights were\npitch dark; and he asked Little Bear if she could help him.\n\nLittle Bear said: \"Yes, I will bring back the moon, if you will give me\ntwo handsful of salt and your next oldest son.\"\n\nThe Chief agreed. Little Bear took the salt and went again to the old\nwoman's wigwam, doing as she had done before. She tossed the salt into\nthe kettle of soup, and when the old woman tasted it she made a face and\nsaid: \"Ugh! This soup is too salt. I must get some more water to put in\nthe kettle.\"\n\nAs soon as the old woman was out of the way, Little Bear ran in and\nseized the moon, which was hidden in a corner. She tossed it up into the\nnight sky, where it hung like a lovely lantern, and every one grew happy\nagain.\n\nImmediately the old Chief became well, and was glad enough to keep his\npromise and to give Little Bear his second son. But she did not want him\nfor herself. She married the young man to her younger sister; and they\nwere very happy.\n\nThis time the old woman was very angry indeed. She came by night to the\nvillage and stole the Chief's beautiful horse, all covered with little\ntinkly bells. At this misfortune the old Chief fell ill once more; for\nhe was very sensitive.\n\nOnce more Little Bear offered to help him if he would give her two\nhandsful of maple sugar and two handsful of salt, and his youngest,\nhandsomest son. Of course, the old Chief agreed.\n\nA third time Little Bear went to the old woman's wigwam and found her\nmaking soup. She did just as she had done twice before; only this time\nthe sugar and the salt together made a horrid mess! When the old woman\nwent out to get more water for a quite new soup, Little Bear slipped\ninto the tent and found the horse. As a precaution she first took off\nhis little bells, so that he should not make a noise to bring back the\nhag. She removed all the little bells but one, and that one she missed,\nit being hidden under a lock of his mane.\n\nGently she led the horse away. But alas! The one little bell which she\nhad overlooked began to tinkle as they fled. _Tink! Tink! Tink!_ Through\nthe wood the old woman heard it and pricked up her ears. _Hop, hop,\nhop!_ Along she came, hobbling after them faster than any horse could\ngallop, and she caught Little Bear before she could escape.\n\n\"Now I will be even with you for all that you have done!\" cried the old\nwoman.\n\nShe put Little Bear into a great bag and tied the bag to the limb of a\ntree. Then she went away to get a big stick with which to beat her\nvictim to death.\n\nBut Little Bear did not wait for this to happen. While the old woman was\nlooking for the stick, Little Bear bit a hole in the bag and crept out.\nShe took the good horse, this time without any bells to give the alarm,\nand hid him in the bushes ready for flight. Then she put into the bag\nall the old woman's choicest things--her dishes and food, and the\nbreakable furnishings of her wigwam--until the bag was round and bulgy\nas if Little Bear herself were inside.\n\nChuckling to herself, Little Bear hid in the bushes where she could see\nwhat happened upon the old woman's return; and merry enough the sight\nwas! Little Bear nearly died of laughing, and had to stuff a corner of\nher blanket into her mouth lest she should betray herself.\n\nFor the old woman came hurrying up with her huge club, and began to beat\nthe bag fiercely. _Crack! Smash!_ went the pots and pans. _Smash!\nCrack!_ went the dishes and the other things. But the wicked old woman\nwent on beating harder than ever, thinking that she was breaking the\nbones of poor Little Bear.\n\nPresently Little Bear grew tired of the smashing and crashing, and\nthought it was time to be off. She mounted the Chief's good horse and\ngalloped swiftly away to the village, where her sisters were awaiting\nher anxiously, because she had been gone a long time.\n\nWhen the Chief saw his good horse once more, he was greatly delighted\nand grew well immediately; he was so sensitive. As he had promised, he\ngave to Little Bear his youngest son, who was the handsomest of the\nthree, though not wise. Little Bear loved him dearly; so she married him\nherself and they went to live in a fine wigwam which the Chief gave\nthem, near the other two brothers and sisters.\n\nBut the Little Bear's husband did not love her. He was sulky and said:\n\"I wish my wife were beautiful like the other maidens! Why must I marry\nan ugly Little Bear? I wish I might have had one of her pretty sisters\ninstead!\" And he was cruel to Little Bear and made her weep.\n\nBut after a while she dried her tears, and was angry to think how\nfoolish she had been in choosing this youngest son for herself, just\nbecause he was so handsome. She thought about it for a long time.\n\nOne day she said to her husband: \"You do not love me, because I am an\nugly Little Bear. Take me and throw me into the fire.\"\n\n\"I do not love you,\" said her husband, \"but I cannot kill you, for then\nthe Chief would punish me.\"\n\n\"Do as I tell you!\" said Little Bear, and she stamped her foot.\n\nThe young man was afraid, for he knew that Little Bear was very wise and\npowerful. So he did as she bade him, and threw Little Bear into the\nfire. This made a great noise in the wigwam, and presently up came\nrunning Little Bear's two sisters.\n\n\"Wicked man! What have you done to our dear Little Bear?\" they cried.\n\n\"I have done only as she told me,\" said the young man sulkily. \"Little\nBear is not beautiful, but she is wise. So I did what she told me to do.\nI threw her into the fire.\"\n\n\"Oh, wicked man!\" cried the sisters again, bursting into tears.\n\nJust then they heard a strange sound in the fire, and turning, they\nbeheld a most beautiful maiden with dark eyes and raven locks coming out\nof the flames. She smiled at the two sisters, and turning to the young\nman said:--\n\n\"Husband, do you know me? I am Little Bear, who was wise but not\nbeautiful. Now I have become beautiful, but I am still wiser than\nbefore.\"\n\n\"O my wife!\" cried the husband eagerly. \"I do not care whether you are\nwise or not--that matters little to me. But I love you with all my\nheart, you are so beautiful!\"\n\nLittle Bear laughed and said: \"You were unkind to the ugly Little Bear,\nthough she loved you. You are like most men; you care more for beauty\nthan for wisdom. But I have grown wiser than I was when I married you\nand I do not care what you think.\"\n\nAnd Little Bear, now the most beautiful young woman in the village and\nthe pride of the tribe for wisdom, lived happy ever after.\n\n\n\nXIX: THE RED KING'S VISIT\n\n\"That is a fine story!\" cried Harold, clapping his hands after the Red\nKing had finished telling the tale of the Little Bear. \"I wish I could\nremember all the tales that I read, and tell them as well as you do,\nYour Majesty!\"\n\nRed Rex looked pleased. \"It is a tale that, when I am not at war, I tell\noften to my little daughter,\" he said. \"She likes all kinds of stories,\nbut especially those of countries different from our own.\"\n\n\"Then she ought to hear the Tales of Kisington!\" cried Harold.\n\n\"So I think,\" mused Red Rex. \"I would that you could read them to her,\neven as you have read them to me, Harold.\"\n\n\"Perhaps some day that may be,\" answered Harold. \"But meantime Your\nMajesty may hear our tales and tell them to your little Princess when\nyou return. She will like your way of telling them better than reading\nfrom a book, I know.\"\n\n\"Yes, I must read those tales again, at your library,\" said the Red\nKing. \"I must study them well, so that I can tell them without losing\nthe point of each, as I am prone to do. My little Hope will be glad.\nHeretofore, I have never had time enough to read her as much as she\ncraved.\"\n\n\"The library will welcome you,\" said Harold. \"I can answer for that. It\nwould rather have you inside its doors reading than outside battering\ndown the statues and the glass! Will Your Majesty come with me now and\nvisit the Town of Kisington under the flag of truce?\"\n\n\"That will I,\" answered Red Rex.\n\nForth then went Harold and the Red King to the gates of Kisington. Side\nby side they went, with the flag of truce between them, borne by a big\nman-at-arms. After them followed a guard of the Red King's men; but\nthese remained behind when the great gate swung open to admit Harold and\nhis royal guest.\n\nThere were no soldiers to be seen anywhere in the streets of Kisington.\nIt seemed a town wholly at peace. The Lord Mayor and the Librarian were\nwaiting to receive them, and crowds of people thronged the street to\ncatch a glimpse of the War-Lord, who for nearly a week had been\nbesieging their city without firing a shot since that first day. Harold\nrecognized among the crowd the faces of many of his school-mates, and\npresently, when he found the opportunity he beckoned to his chums,\nRobert and Richard, who were in the front ranks.\n\n\"Keep close to me,\" Harold whispered to them. \"By and by I dare say you\nwill have a chance to speak with Red Rex himself.\"\n\nRobert and Richard needed no second hint to keep close at Harold's\nheels. Proudly they stepped along, one on either side of their friend,\nbehind the Red King and the Lord Mayor who followed the Librarian and\nthe bearer of the flag of truce. To the marketplace they went, the other\nschool children trotting along in the rear of the little procession, and\ngazing with almost as much pride and awe at their lucky comrades as at\nthe dreaded enemy, Red Rex. Indeed, the whole Town of Kisington seemed\nmoving in the wake of these six most important personages.\n\nWhat conversation took place between Red Rex and the Lord Mayor was\nnever recorded. But it seemed to grow gradually pleasanter and\npleasanter. By the time they had reached the steps of the library, their\nfaces were wreathed in smiles and they beamed at each other like old\nfriends.\n\nAt the door of the library the Librarian turned and, with a wave of his\nhand, said to Red Rex,--\"Welcome, Your Majesty, to the treasure-house of\nKisington.\"\n\n\"Glad am I to enter these doors,\" replied the Red King courteously. \"For\nhere, I believe, live the wonderful books which during these past days\nhave been giving me much pleasure.\" He laid his hand on the shoulder of\nHarold and smiled. One would hardly have recognized the face of the grim\nWar-Lord who had begun the siege so savagely. \"I would fain see those\nfriendly books in their own home,\" he went on.\n\n\"That you shall do, Your Majesty,\" said the Librarian; \"for Kisington is\nso proud of her treasures that she is ever glad to welcome a stranger to\nthe enjoyment of them. Is it not fortunate, Your Majesty, that the\nlibrary is still standing to entertain you? Recently it was in great\ndanger of being destroyed, as you may have heard.\" (The Librarian was an\nexceedingly polite gentlemen.)\n\nAt these words the Red King turned redder and bowed gravely. \"The Books\nthemselves rose up for the protection of books,\" he said. \"They have\nproved in this case to be the best weapons of defense. I am beginning to\nthink that they are better than any soldiers.\"\n\nBy this time they had entered the main hall, where a delegation of\nLeading Citizens awaited them,--in holiday robes and with expectant\nfaces. They greeted Red Rex with profound bows, which he acknowledged\ngraciously.\n\nThe Librarian then turned to the rows of patient, peaceful books which\nlined the walls, ready to be made useful. \"Yes, Your Majesty. These are\nour bulwarks and batteries and bayonets,\" he said simply.\n\nThe air of the room was still and quiet, full of peace and kindliness.\nBeautiful pictures looked down from the walls. Noble statues stood in\nthe niches. Soft lights came in at the windows and fell on the tables\nand desks, and on rows upon rows of fair volumes, well-dusted and\ncheerful. The shattered windows had been screened; the broken marbles\nremoved; so that there was nothing to reproach Red Rex or to speak of\ndiscord.\n\nThe War-Lord looked up and down and around and along, and spoke no word.\nAll the books seemed listening, waiting for him to speak. They were\nindeed like soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, standing at \"attention.\"\n\n\"It is a noble army!\" exclaimed Red Rex at last, and his voice was low\nand gentle. \"It is the best kind of army for the world, I see, as I have\nnever seen before. I would it were mine!\"\n\n\"It is yours, Your Majesty,\" said the Librarian. \"You have but to make\nfree use of it. These soldiers are free-lances, at the service not of\none master, but of any one who employs them intelligently. Read them,\nYour Majesty, and so make them yours, if you will.\" The Librarian spread\nout his hands in a generous gesture.\n\n\"By my Hope, you are hospitable and magnanimous!\" cried Red Rex. \"I am\ntempted to take you at your word. Come, let there be no more war between\nus. Let us make no brief truce, but agree, instead, upon a true, lasting\npeace. Already I have promised this Harold of yours to spare the city,\neast, west, and north,--which is the whole of it. But come; promise me\nnow to spare me the scorn and hatred which you owe for my\nunfriendliness. Let us spare each other and be friends. For I would know\nmore of your books and of your people.\"\n\n\"Good, Your Majesty!\" cried the Lord Mayor, stepping forward. \"By all\nmeans let there be peace. We have no wish for anything else. Our hastily\ngathered soldiers are eager to return again to private life. Send away\nyour army, and let peace be proclaimed with no more formality than our\ntrue words given each to other in this library, with the witness of the\nbooks.\"\n\n\"Done!\" shouted Red Rex. \"Here is my hand on it!\" And he shook hands\nfirst with the Lord Mayor, then with the Librarian, then with the other\nLeading Citizens. Harold and his chums were standing modestly a little\nway apart. He called the boy to his side and laid an arm affectionately\nabout his shoulder. \"Here is your true peacemaker,\" said Red Rex. \"If\nHarold had not been so good a reader, I should never have been here in\npeace with you at this moment. To Harold and his books I owe the vision\nof what a library really is.\"\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" said Harold promptly, \"will you also shake hands with\nRichard and Robert? It will make them very proud.\"\n\n\"That will I!\" cried Red Rex. And he not only shook hands, but clapped\nthe boys on the shoulder, calling each by name; which was a thing for\nthem to remember all their lives.\n\n\"Now!\" announced the Red King, taking a large seal ring from his finger\nand handing it to his soldier who bore the flag of truce. \"Take this\nring, and go back to my army; bid the generals lead their men home, and\nbusy themselves in some useful work until my return. For as for me, I\nshall remain for a space in this peaceful city, in this peaceful\nKingdom, to learn something further of its ways and wonders, which\ninterest me hugely.\"\n\nThe soldier saluted and retired. And shortly after was heard beyond the\nwalls the _tramp, tramp_ of a retreating army. The Red King was alone in\nKisington, among the books.\n\nLittle cared he for what went on outside. He was carried away by the\nfascination of a world new to him. The Librarian led him from room to\nroom, from stack to stack, from shelf to shelf of tempting books. The\nRed King was fairly bewildered by the opportunities offered. He wanted\nto read all the volumes at once.\n\n\"I never dreamed there were so many books in the world!\" he cried. \"How\ncan a man live long enough to read them all, if he does nothing else all\nhis days?\"\n\n\"Do you wonder we have no time for war, Your Majesty?\" asked the\nLibrarian.\n\n\"No more war for me!\" declared Red Rex. They had reached a division of\nthe books labeled in huge letters OUTLAND TALES. The Red King laid his\nhand upon a volume bound in green-and-silver, like ice. \"This has a\ntempting look,\" said Red Rex. \"Are these also Chronicles of Kisington?\"\n\n\"Yes, in a sense,\" answered the Librarian. \"The deeds here recorded\nhappened not in our Kingdom; yet, being tales gathered by our forbears\nin their travels around the world, to and from Kisington, they had a\npart in our history. They helped our fathers the better to understand\nand sympathize with the stranger, and so made for the peace which they\nloved.\"\n\n\"This is a story for me,\" declared Red Rex, who had been peeping into\nthe ice-bound volume. \"I would fain hear another tale interpreted by my\nlittle friend. Harold, will you read me this story, as you have read so\nmany ere now? I long to hear your pleasant voice again.\"\n\n\"I will read whatever Your Majesty wishes,\" replied Harold. \"Shall we go\ninto this alcove where we shall be quite undisturbed and undisturbing?\"\n\n\"By all means,\" said Red Rex. And here, in a cozy comer under one of the\ngreat windows, with Richard and Robert on either side of him, Harold\nread to the delighted King the Icelandic tale of _The Bear's Daughter_.\n\n\n\nXX: THE BEAR'S DAUGHTER\n\nOnce upon a time, on an island far to the north of Kisington, whither\nonly the bravest sailors dared to venture, lived a boy named Hans. They\ncalled him Hans the Hunter, because he loved so much to hunt and fish.\nHe was a tall, brave, and sturdy lad, and he loved his life and was\nproud of his nickname. He had a hard spot in his heart, or he would not\nhave been a hunter.\n\nOne day Hans went out with two other lads to hunt. It was in the early\nspring, the season when the ice breaks up in the rivers and begins to\nmove seaward, like the hearts of men. The three wandered for many miles\nover the ice and snow until they came to the frozen bed of a river; but\nthey did not know it was a river, the water of it flowed so far below\nthe cakes of ice which concealed it, while over all was a thick crust of\nsnow.\n\nAt this spot Hans the Hunter, who was after big game, left the others\nand started toward the south. Presently in the snow his sharp eyes spied\nthe tracks of a huge bear. He was greatly delighted, and began to follow\nthe slot so eagerly that he hardly marked where he was going. But all on\na sudden he felt an unsteady motion under his feet. The ground seemed\nslipping beneath him. The snow parted and the ice cracked, and he spied\nblue water in the gaps between. Then he realized that he was upon a\nriver, afloat upon a cake of ice!\n\nHans was greatly terrified, and made haste to leap upon a larger floe,\nfor the former was too small to hold his weight, and threatened to turn\nupside down. Still he was in great danger; for before he knew it the\nriver had carried him out into a bay of floating ice, far from the\nsteady land. To and fro he leaped on his long legs, over the moving\nmass, hoping to find a way of escaping back to the shore. But presently\nhe saw to his horror that he was rapidly floating out to the ocean upon\na huge ice-floe, which was fast separating from the others. He was\nadrift upon a barren island of ice!\n\nScarcely had he had time to realize this, when Hans had another shock.\nAs he came around a huge pillar of ice, he almost stumbled upon a huge\nwhite bear lying asleep upon her side. It must have been the very same\nbear whose tracks had led Hans into danger, and which he had quite\nforgotten. With a hunter's instinct Hans raised his gun to shoot her.\nBut at the moment, before he pulled the trigger, the bear opened her\neyes and spoke to him; and it did not seem so very strange to hear her\nspeak his own language.\n\n\"Why do you seek to kill me?\" she said piteously. \"I have done no harm\nto you, Hans the Hunter. Moreover, if you kill me you will yourself die\nof cold within a few hours. If you lie down upon the ice to sleep you\nwill freeze to death. But if you rest against my thick fur I will keep\nyou warm. O man! Why must we be enemies? We are bound on a dangerous sea\nvoyage together. Be my friend! Catch fish for me, so that we shall not\nstarve. So, helping one another, we shall live comfortably on this\nfloating home until we are able to go ashore.\"\n\n\"Gladly will I do what you say,\" agreed Hans the Hunter, for he saw that\nher words were wise.\n\nAfter that Hans and the bear became partners. By day, with the tackle\nwhich he always carried in his wallet, Hans fished for their dinner;\nand, indeed, the bear's huge appetite kept him busy! By night he\nsnuggled against the warm fur of his neighbor and slept soundly, not\nfeeling the cold. So they kept their bargain.\n\nMany days went by, and the bear came to love Hans dearly. Indeed, he\nliked her, too. But Hans loved himself better, for he was a selfish lad.\n\nOne morning Hans awoke with a start, conscious of an unusual movement\nnear him. The bear was stirring uneasily in her sleep. But something\nelse close beside him writhed and wriggled. He rubbed his eyes and\nlooked again. Nestled against the bear's white fur was a tiny newborn\nchild, a beautiful baby girl. Hans sat up and stared at the prodigy.\nWhat did it mean? Where did the baby come from? At last an idea came to\nhim.\n\n\"Oho!\" he said to himself. \"Now I know what it all means! This is the\nEnchanted Bear of whom I have heard so much,--the great White Bear of\nthe North. That is why she could talk to me, and why I could understand.\nThat is why her newborn cub is a human child, _until she looks at it_.\nMistress Bear has not yet seen her little one. Ho! What a prize for a\nhunter to take home! This enchanted bear-baby will remain human, if I\ncan steal her away where her mother will never set eyes on her. That\nwill be something to show the other fellows, I should say!\"\n\nOn the preceding night Hans had noted that the ice-floe was approaching\nnearer to the land. This morning they were very close to shore. Many\nice-cakes floated about, and by jumping from one to another long-legged\nHans knew that he could make the land. Very gently he took the little\nwhite baby, so soft and warm, in his great hands and wrapped it under\nhis coat, so that the old bear should not see it. Then silently and\nstealthily he prepared to depart. But when he moved away from her side\nthe old bear wakened suddenly and called after him,--\n\n\"Where are you going, friend Hans? What are you doing with my little cub\nthat I have never seen?\" Hans did not stop to explain, but clasping the\nbaby tightly, darted off over the ice-field toward the land. Surprised\nand fearful, the old bear rose and looked after him with wide eyes of\nreproach. Then when she realized what he meant to do, she shook herself\nwith a mighty roar, and her eyes grew bright and fierce. She started in\npursuit.\n\nIt was a terrible chase! Hans was swift-footed; but after all the ice\nwas not his natural ground. The bear who had seemed so clumsy traveled\nover the ice with miraculous speed, as polar bears do. Hans heard her\npanting behind him, drawing nearer and nearer, and his heart sank low.\nHe knew how sharp her claws were, and how strong her teeth. She was\ngaining upon him; but he would not give up the baby. The hard spot in\nhis heart grew harder. Burdened as he was, he turned about and raising\nhis gun fired it at the bear. His aim was good,--for was he not Hans the\nHunter? With a moan the great bear fell, and he saw a stream of blood\ndye the ice-floe which he had so long shared with her as a home.\n\nHans did not pause to mourn over the faithful friend who had kept him\nalive and warm for so many nights; but leaving her on the ice to die,\nsped shoreward with his burden, jumping lightly from cake to cake of ice\nuntil he reached the land.\n\nAfter wandering about for some time Hans found a deserted fisherman's\nhut, where he built a fire and cherished the baby which he had stolen.\nThe little thing seemed to thrive under his clumsy care. He tarried in\nthe hut for some days, managing to get food for the baby and himself.\nThen he took the child and made his way inland until he came to a little\nvillage. He found that it was miles and miles from his former home; but\nthe people were kind and urged him to stay. So Hans decided to settle\ndown and live here, practicing his trade as a hunter, and earning enough\nto keep himself and the child in comfort. And every day the stolen baby\ngrew dearer and dearer to Hans the Hunter.\n\nYears went by. Hans became a big man, the mightiest, most famous hunter\nin all the countryside. Presently the little girl was grown up, too. And\nshe had become the most beautiful tiny maiden in the land. Her name was\nUrsula, which means \"Little Bear-Girl,\" though no one knew why Hans had\ngiven her this name. Folk supposed that she was called after the holy\nSaint Ursula. Hans, as you may guess, never told the lass about her\nbear-mother whom he had so cruelly wronged.\n\nHans loved Ursula so dearly that he hoped some day she would become his\nlittle wife. For a long time Ursula laughed and put him off; but at last\nshe consented.\n\nOne fine day they drove to Church and were married. After the wedding\nall the village folk crowded around the sleigh in which Hans was to\ncarry his young bride home, and wished the couple joy and good luck. For\neverybody liked big Hans, who was cruel only to animals; and they adored\nhis little Ursula, who was cruel to nobody. She looked very pretty as\nshe sat beside Hans, all pink and white and smiling, wrapped from head\nto foot in snowy furs which Hans had given her for a wedding present.\nMerrily they waved good-bye to the crowd as they drove away. And every\none said, \"Was there ever seen a handsomer, finer couple?\"\n\nIt was a gay, long ride home through the forest, and the pair were very\nhappy. The sun shone dazzlingly on the jeweled snow, and the evergreens\nsparkled with icicles. The little brook, hidden under the ice, peeped at\nthem through sundry chinks here and there, chuckling merrily as he ran.\nThe sleigh-bells jingled heartily and the horse pranced as if he, too,\nshared the joy of that happy wedding day.\n\nSuddenly, as they came out into an open space, the horse stopped short\nwith a frightened snort, and stood gazing with wild eyes, trembling in\nevery limb. Something huge and terrible blocked the road. In the middle\nof the way stood a great white bear, upright upon her hind legs.\n\nHans recognized her at once; it was his old friend whom he had betrayed!\nAfter all, she was not dead, as he had hoped, but after twenty years had\ncome back to confront him. She was staring fixedly at Hans,--she had not\nyet seen little Ursula muffled in her furs. With a cry Hans threw\nhimself between his young bride and this terrible sight.\n\n\"Come to me, my Daughter, my Cub!\" cried the mother-bear in a deep\nvoice. \"Come to me!\"\n\nUrsula gave a strange, wild cry and struggled in the arms of Hans. \"What\nis it?\" she said. \"Oh, what is it? I must see!\"\n\nAt the same moment her voice died away into a low whine, then rose into\na howl such as an animal gives in pain. Struggling from her husband's\narms she leaped from the sleigh.\n\nInstantly Hans followed, holding out his arms piteously and calling,\n\"Ursula! Ursula!\"\n\nBut the white, furry figure did not hear. It was hurrying forward toward\nthe great bear.\n\n\"Come to me, my Child!\" said the bear again. \"Leave the wicked man who\nbetrayed his friend and sought to kill her. Come, let us punish him!\"\n\nHer words ended in a fierce growl, which was echoed by the other white\nfigure, as she turned about and looked at Hans. And oh, what was this!\nWith horror he saw that his little bride had, indeed, turned into a\nfurry white bear. Her eyes burned red and angry as she looked at him,\nand she showed her teeth as if her mother's words had turned all her\nlove of Hans into hatred, for the old bear's sake.\n\nShe seemed about to spring upon Hans and tear him to pieces. But\nsuddenly her look changed. She folded her paws upon her furry breast,\nand Hans saw tears, human tears, come into the little bear's eyes. It\nwas the last token of her human life, the last gleam of her fondness for\nhim. She could not punish him as her mother bade. She would not let evil\nhappen to him, even though he had done such a cruel wrong, because she\nhad once been his little Ursula.\n\nDropping upon all fours she ran toward her mother, and they laid noses\ntogether for their first caress. She seemed to say something to the old\nbear in a silent language, which was answered by a deep, sullen growl.\nAfter this, without a further glance at Hans, the two bears turned about\nand trotted away together into the forest. Hans the Hunter never saw\nthem again.\n\nBut after that the gun of Hans hung rusty on the wall of his lonely hut.\nThe hard spot in his heart had melted.\n\n\nXXI\n\nRED REX AND KING VICTOR\n\nHardly had Harold finished speaking these last words in the tragic story\nof the Bear's Daughter, when there arose from the market-place such a\nhubbub and commotion that the Red King's comments on the tale were quite\nlost. Voices were shouting and cheering; trumpets were blowing and drums\nbeating; over the clang of weapons and neighing of horses one caught the\n_tramp, tramp_ of marching feet.\n\nRed Rex sprang to his feet, drawing his sword and growing very red in\nthe face. Once again he was the fierce and terrible War-Lord. But Harold\ndid not notice. He was too much excited at the tumult going on outside.\nHe ran hastily to the window and looked out. The square was full of\nsoldiers and banners and gayly decked horses. Men-at-arms crowded the\nside streets, pouring continuously into the square. The ruined porch of\nthe library was crowded. A guard stood at the portal.\n\nIn the center of the square, bestriding a white horse, sat a stately\nfigure, dressed all in white armor. His snowy head was uncovered and he\nspoke to the cheering people smilingly.\n\nA great shout arose as he finished his speech. \"Long live our good King\nVictor!\"\n\nHarold joined in the shout. \"Hurrah! Hurrah!\"\n\nAnd Robert and Richard, scrambling up beside him, echoed the\ncheer,--\"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live King Victor!\"\n\n\"Our good King has come to Kisington at last!\" cried Harold, turning\nback into the library.\n\nHe had quite forgotten his warlike guest and why King Victor had come to\nKisington. Indeed, for the moment every one seemed to have forgotten Red\nRex. The Librarian, the Lord Mayor, and the other Leading Citizens had\ndisappeared, and the library seemed quite empty. But in one corner of\nthe alcove where the last story had been read, Red Rex was standing at\nbay. He had drawn up before him a heavy table, behind which he stood,\nsword in hand, one foot advanced, his red beard bristling.\n\n\"Yes, I am trapped!\" snarled Red Rex. \"You have caught me, boy. But you\nshall pay for this!\"\n\nHarold and the Red King stood staring at one another. The _tramp, tramp_\nof feet sounded on the staircase, coming nearer. Along the hall came the\ntread. The door of the hall opened, and a martial group crossed the\nthreshold. Foremost came their King, King Victor himself, the splendid,\nwhite-haired peace hero. The three boys dropped each on one knee before\nhim.\n\nFor a moment the King stood gazing about him mildly, without speaking.\nHe was tall and stately, but his eyes were kind, even merry, and with\nall his dignity there was nothing to strike fear even into the heart of\na child. Presently his eyes caught the figure of the trapped War-Lord,\nbarricaded and at bay in the corner.\n\nHe stepped forward with a friendly air and held out his hand. \"Welcome,\nCousin!\" he said in a hearty voice.\n\nRed Rex glared at him, fairly bristling with rage. \"Do not mock me!\" he\nblustered. \"I know well enough that I have been trapped and that the\nword of the Lord Mayor of this town, given to me, will not count now.\nBut you shall not take me alive. I will slay the first who lays hand on\nme!\" He waved his sword furiously. Harold had never seen him look so\nterrible.\n\n\"Nay, nay!\" cried King Victor mildly. \"You mistake, indeed, Cousin!\"\n\nBut the enraged Red King would not listen, and went on with his wild\naccusations.\n\n\"I have been trapped by children!\" he raged. \"Delayed by tales! Deceived\nby promises! I trusted all these and disbanded my army, fool that I was!\nBut take me if you can!\" Again he flourished his sword and ground his\nteeth.\n\nKing Victor stood looking at the War-Lord without speaking. At last he\nraised his hand with a grand gesture and said with emphasis and\nsincerity, \"You are making a great mistake, Cousin! You are not trapped.\nThe promise of the Lord Mayor is sacred. In my land a word is as good as\na treaty. You are quite free to go, if you list. But, indeed, we hope\nyou will deign to stay, as our honored guest. It is the first time you\nhave graced our Kingdom with your presence, Cousin. We long to be\nfriends with you; to see lasting peace between our neighboring lands.\"\n\n\"You come with an army,\" retorted Red Rex sullenly. \"You came in\nresponse to summons. You came to combat me.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" assented King Victor. \"When we heard that Kisington was\nbesieged, we gathered together our peaceful army and hastened hither in\nthe interests of peace. But we arrive to find, instead of a bloody\nsiege, a peaceful King enjoying this library. We hasten to add our own\nwelcome to that of Kisington's Leading Citizens. We invite you to\nremain, Cousin, and enjoy not only these but other treasures of our\nKingdom which it may be to your advantage to know better.\"\n\n\"If my army had not disbanded,\" blustered the War-Lord, \"you would not\nbe speaking to me so debonairly.\"\n\n\"Maybe not, maybe not!\" agreed King Victor.\n\n\"Yet, our volunteer police force embraces every citizen of our Kingdom.\nWe should have surrounded you without trouble or bloodshed, Cousin. We\ncould have persuaded your army by sheer force of numbers and opinion,\nwithout doubt. But let us not think of that. Let us rather consider the\npleasanter things which surround us. Shall we not be friends, Cousin? We\nknow your Kingdom well. We have read and studied about it thoroughly in\nour books. We have, indeed, traveled all over it in peaceful disguise.\nCome, you ought to become as well acquainted with ours; then I am sure\nwe should never misunderstand one another again. Say, Cousin Rex, shall\nit be?\"\n\nHe advanced a step nearer the other, holding out his hand and smiling\ngenially. His sincerity was plain.\n\nThe War-Lord dropped his sword. \"I believe you!\" he cried, stepping\nforward and grasping the proffered hand. \"Cousin, Neighbor, let there be\npeace between our whole kingdoms; even as we promised between myself and\nKisington.\"\n\n\"So be it!\"\n\nThe two monarchs embraced in kingly fashion, and sat down in a retired\nalcove for a pleasant chat.\n\nIt was not long before Harold was summoned to the pair. King Victor\nreceived him kindly, and Red Rex grinned. \"We have heard the tale of\nyour service to the State and to our Royal Friend, Harold,\" said King\nVictor graciously. \"We would fain give you a suitable reward, my brave\nBookworm. What shall it be? Tell me your wish.\"\n\nHarold flushed and stammered. \"I do not wish a reward for the little I\ndid, Sire,\" he said. \"I had no thought of that. Indeed, it was a\npleasure to read for His Majesty.\"\n\n\"Yea, so we believe!\" smiled the King. \"Yet some reward we owe for your\ntrue office. What shall it be?\"\n\nHarold hesitated, thinking. \"Truly, for myself I ask nothing,\" he said.\n\"Yet, perhaps, Sire, you would help my mother, my dear mother, so that\nshe need not work so hard while I am learning to be a scholar.\"\n\n\"It shall be so!\" cried the King. \"She shall have a little maid to help\nher; money to pay the rent, buy food and clothes and modest pleasures.\nThese shall she have. But for yourself, Harold? We must show you some\nspecial favor, for our own comfort.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Harold, \"one thing I scarcely dare to ask. But I should\nlike more time to read in the library while His Majesty is here. Maybe I\ncould serve him better if I had not to go to school these days. May the\nschool children have a vacation of a week, Sire?\"\n\n\"A fortnight!\" cried King Victor, beaming. \"It is the very pith of our\ntalk, my boy. For a week the King our Cousin is fain to tarry in\nKisington, and he asks no better than yourself to be his guide,\nphilosopher, and friend. Then for a week he will be my guest, traveling\nwith me over the Kingdom, visiting certain places whereabout you have\nmade him curious by your stories. He asks that you may go as his page.\nBoth these things are possible if we grant the school a fortnight's\nrecess. It shall be done. But still, this is little reward for your wise\ndoings, my boy. Ask something more.\"\n\n\"Then, Sire, I beg this,\" said Harold, with shining eyes. \"Let Robert\nand Richard go with me as assistant pages. That will be a merry vacation\nfor us all; no better boon could I ask!\"\n\nThe King laughed merrily. \"A boy's wish!\" he said, \"but it shall be\ngranted. Now, come hither, Harold.\" With these words King Victor threw\nover the boy's shoulders a heavy gold chain with a cross hanging from\nit. \"'Blessed are the peacemakers,'\" quoted King Victor. \"Wear this,\nHarold, a token from your grateful country. And with it goes the gift of\na hundred books, which you shall choose for yourself, to be the\nbeginning of a library of your own,--Book Wizard, as they call you!\"\n\nThe bells of Kisington began to peal gayly and continuously, a triple\nrejoicing. The beloved King being in town was sufficient reason for\nfestival. Therefore,--_Ding dong!_ Peace was declared forever between\nthe two neighboring nations. Therefore, _Ding dong! Ding dong!_ A\nholiday for the school children of Kisington, Harold's friends.\nTherefore,--_Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!_\n\nHarold went home to his mother with the glad news. And proud enough she\nwas of her lad when she heard why all the bells were ringing, and saw\nhis golden cross.\n\n\nXXII: THE BOOKS CONQUER\n\nThus began the wonderful fortnight of vacation that Harold and Robert\nand Richard never forgot in all their lives.\n\nFor a happy week the War-Lord tarried in Kisington. He spent much of his\ntime studying at the library, reading many books, but especially such\ntales as Harold thought the little Princess Hope would enjoy. Many of\nthese he heard Harold read aloud; sometimes in the cozy alcoves of the\nlibrary, where they could disturb no one; sometimes in the sumptuous\napartments of the palace which King Victor had put at the disposal of\nRed Rex; oftenest and best of all in the little thatched cottage of\nHarold's mother, where the Red King came to feel perfectly at home. For\none of the first things Harold did in his vacation time was to invite\nthe War-Lord to dinner.\n\n\"We shall have for dessert one of my mother's famous apple pies,\"\npromised Harold with a twinkle. The Red King blushed; but he accepted\nthe invitation in a truly kingly spirit.\n\nThere was now plenty to eat and drink in Harold's home, and a nice\nlittle maid to help his mother and make the days pleasanter. It was a\nvery merry party that gathered around the table in the kitchen that\nnight. Richard and Robert were there; for the Red King had taken a fancy\nto them, and they all talked together like old friends. The Red King had\nmany thrilling adventures to tell them of his roving life. And Red Rex\nwas learning many new and novel things of them all the while. For this\nwas the first time he had ever eaten in a thatched cottage, or in the\ncompany of simple strangers.\n\nWhen the great pie was brought in, all steaming and spicy, Harold and\nthe War-Lord exchanged a peculiar glance.\n\n\"Your Majesty has tasted my pie before,\" said Harold's mother\ninnocently. \"I sent a piece with Harold's luncheon one day, and he tells\nme you approved of it. That is why we have it to-day for dessert.\"\n\n\"Ah! I approve of it, indeed! I shall never forget your pie, dear little\nMother!\" cried the Red King with a laugh. \"It is worth adventuring much\nto obtain even a bite of pies like yours.\"\n\n\"They taste best of all at midnight,\" said Harold mischievously.\n\n\"That I cannot believe,\" said Red Rex, frowning at him. \"I never ate pie\nso delicious before this day!\"\n\n\"Do you think one piece of pie hot is worth five pies cold, Your\nMajesty?\" asked Harold.\n\n\"Yes, indeed!\" cried the Red King, turning still redder. \"Especially if\neaten in such pleasant company.\"\n\n\"So thought not the wicked old woman who stole my pies,\" said Harold's\nmother. \"I wonder if she will ever dare to claim that beautiful shawl\nwhich she left behind her?\"\n\n\"I dare say not,\" frowned the Red King. \"And inasmuch as the Lord Mayor\ndeclares that she must have been a native of my Kingdom, intruding\nwithin your walls, I hereby make over to you that shawl which she has\nforfeited by her wicked deed. Wear it henceforth without a qualm,\nMother.\"\n\nShe wore it to church the very next Sunday, and all the ladies envied\nher this last piece of good luck which seemed to follow the coming of\nthe Red King.\n\nRed Rex was eager to visit every corner of Kisington about which he had\nheard in the Chronicles. Since this was vacation time, Harold and Robert\nand Richard were overjoyed to be his guides. They visited the Old\nCuriosity Shop where the Lion Passant had lived dumbly for years before\nthe coming of the Patent Medicine Man. The store was still kept by a\nwheezy old fellow with a cough; though he was not the same who had\nspilled the Elixir over the Lion Passant. Of him the War-Lord bought so\nmany curiosities that he and his little old wife became quite rich, and\nnever had to worry about the future any more.\n\nThey visited the ruined old castle, a little way out of Kisington on the\nroad to Hushby, where Arthur had found the magic glass, made by his\nuncle the Amateur Magician. It was now all in ruins, inhabited only by\nbats and owls and rats. But the Red King prowled about the crumbling\nchambers with the greatest delight, and took home a paper of pebbles as\na souvenir for the little Princess Hope, who made \"collections.\"\n\nThey visited the famous bakehouse of the Rafe-Margot Company, where a\nkind of pastry called \"Kingspies\" was still made after the old recipe,\nwhich had first been used in the oven of the premises. For this was the\nsite of the little red house that had stood on the acre of land under\nthe red-apple tree. All these had disappeared; and the Kingspies, which\nthe Red King tasted eagerly, were not as good as the home-made variety\nof which Harold's mother had inherited the secret. For there is\nsomething magic about the pies that a mother makes in her own kitchen\nwhich no factory can imitate.\n\nAt this factory Red Rex left a large sum of money to pay for Kingspies\nwhich should be given to any hungry man who asked; particularly if he\nasked at midnight,--which seemed, indeed, a strange condition! But\nHarold understood why the Red King did this thing. And Harold never told\nany one,--not even Robert and Richard.\n\nOne day they all went to visit what had been Gerda's Wonder-Garden, by\nthe sea. It was now called the Aquarium, and was a public park, free to\nall the people of Kisington. It was quite as wonderful as ever, for it\nwas full of all the strange and beautiful creatures of the sea, and Red\nRex marveled greatly to see them there.\n\nIn charge of the Aquarium was the Lady Anyse, who was a descendant of\nCedric and Gerda. She came to greet them when she heard of their\narrival, and as soon as their eyes met she and the Red King gazed at\neach other long and earnestly. She was tall and stately, and very\nbeautiful. She had red hair like the King's, and bright blue eyes; and\nshe was afraid of nothing. She and Red Rex stared at each other long and\nearnestly, without speaking.\n\nAt last Red Rex said:--\n\n\"In sooth, I believe you are, indeed, of my kin! Something tells me so.\nI am sure that Gerda, your great-great-grandmother came from my Kingdom,\nand was sister of my great-great-grandfather.\"\n\n\"I think so too,\" said the Lady Anyse.\n\n\"Cousin,\" declared Red Rex, \"you have been too long away from the land\nof your fathers. Will you go back with me, to my little daughter? She\nhas no mother, and she needs one badly; some one from a peaceful\nKingdom. I think she needs you. I am going, moreover, to make for her a\nsplendid Aquarium, like this of Kisington. This also will need your\ncare.\"\n\n\"I think so too,\" said the Lady Anyse.\n\n\"Then you will come back with me?\" begged Red Rex, more eagerly than he\nhad ever begged for anything in his life. \"It will make a new bond\nbetween our Kingdoms, so that we shall never be at war again.\"\n\n\"I think so too!\" said the Lady Anyse, who was a woman of few words.\n\nSo that matter was happily settled, to the Red King's great content. And\na happy thing, indeed, it proved for the little Princess Hope and for\nthe two Kingdoms.\n\nWhen the second week began, Red Rex left Kisington to visit King Victor\nat the Capital City. Harold and Robert and Richard accompanied him as\npages, each wearing a beautiful suit of velvet and gold, and each riding\non a fine little white pony, the gift of Red Rex.\n\nWhat a glorious trip that was! For first they made a detour to the Town\nof Hushby. There still stood the inn where Arthur had met pretty Margot\nwho afterwards became his Countess, and where he had his first adventure\nwith the wicked Oscar. From there the party went up into the mountains\nwhere the Dragon used to live. Harold and the other two boys scrambled\nabout among the rocks, and after a while they found the very place which\nhad been the Dragon's den. It was a cave fifty feet long and twelve feet\nhigh, very black and gloomy. And in it were a great many skulls and\nbones of persons whom the Dragon had killed and eaten in those dreadful\nyears, long, long ago. But now it was empty and forgotten.\n\nFrom Hushby they rode to the Capital City, which was all decked with\nbanners and flowers to receive Red Rex, the ex-War-Lord. Then began a\nseason of royal merrymaking to celebrate the peace between the two\nKingdoms. There were banquets and dancing and games and pageants,\nprocessions and concerts and fireworks, all of which the Red King and\nhis three pages enjoyed hugely. King Victor was very kind to them, and\nmade them happy in every way he could devise.\n\nHe invited them to the Royal Museum, where they were privileged to view\nsome of the most precious treasures of the Kingdom. They saw in a glass\ncase on a velvet mat the tiny stuffed Dragon himself; he who had once\nbeen the Terror of Hushby. They saw, too, the now un-magical glass with\nwhich Arthur had vanquished his enemy. It looked like any other mere\nreading-glass with an ivory handle, and it was hard to believe what\nwonders it had done. In this same collection was the first pie-plate\nbrought by Rafe's messenger to the King, after that clever cook became\npie-maker-in-ordinary to the throne.\n\nHere, too, was the glove of that royal giantess, the Princess Agnes, who\nhad refused to marry Arthur because he was too little. It was as broad\nas a palm-leaf fan, and much thicker. Close by the monster glove lay a\ntiny white moccasin, which had once been worn by Ursula, the bear's\ndaughter, and which had been brought back from the far land of that sad\nstory by one of the sea-rovers of Kisington, who had first told the\ntale.\n\nHere also was one of the partly-grated nuts with which Meg had flavored\nthe first King's Pie; and a precious pearl from Gerda's Wonder-Garden,\nthe gift of the grateful Mermaid. There, worn to rags, by the passage of\nmany years, was the original lion-doll made by Claribel, from the model\nof the Lion Passant. And this the Red King liked best of all. But there\nwere many interesting things in the Museum of King Victor which recalled\nto Red Rex the stories that Harold had read to him.\n\nOne day King Victor and a merry party rode to the town of Derrydown in\nthe north. Here was the great lion-doll factory, started by Claribel and\nthe Lion Passant, which had made their fortune and that of Derrydown.\nThe party stopped at the old Red Lion Inn where the sign still swung\nover the door as in the days when the Lion Passant had first been struck\nby its resemblance to his family crest. And because it was his family\ncrest also, Red Rex made the landlord a handsome present. In these days\nthe Red King was generosity itself.\n\nHard by the Inn was the very same tiny hut in which Claribel had lived;\nand over the fireplace still showed dimly the carved coat of arms and\nthe motto, _Noblesse oblige_.\n\nWhen Red Rex saw this, he stood and stared at it a long time, saying\nnothing. \"I used to think that meant 'A King can do no wrong,'\" said he\nat last in a low voice to King Victor. \"Now I believe it means, 'A King\nmust do no wrong.'\"\n\n\"So I too believe,\" agreed King Victor. \"But I would make the motto say\nstill more. Every one can be noble, and a noble must do no wrong.\"\n\n\"It shall be the motto of my people!\" declared Red Rex. And so it\nbecame.\n\nBut there were other tales of this neighborhood which Red Rex\nremembered. \"May we not go hunting in the Ancient Wood, of which I have\nheard?\" asked Red Rex while they tarried in Derrydown. \"I understand\nthat it is not far, and that there is great game to be had in those\nstill coverts.\"\n\n\"Nay; in these days we do not hunt in my Kingdom,\" replied King Victor.\n\"Since hearing the tale of the Bear's Daughter it has been no pleasure\nfor any of us to kill or hurt any dumb creature.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" cried Red Rex. \"I had forgot that story! Hans wounded a poor\nfriendly bear who had done him no harm. That was cowardly, indeed! True,\nCousin. Neither do I wish to hunt any more. It was that tale which you\npunctuated by your noisy arrival in Kisington, do you remember? I picked\nout that story for myself; and it has done a service to the wild\ncreatures of my Kingdom, who will henceforth be safe from me and mine.\nBut, indeed, though we do not hunt, I would fain see this Ancient Wood,\nwhere the Old Gnome lived in his hollow tree.\"\n\n\"We will go this very day,\" answered King Victor. And go they did. Sure\nenough, in a clearing they found the house which David had built for his\nlittle wife, snug and clean and empty. Close by in the thick woods the\nthree boys discovered a giant tree-stump, papered with moss and hung\nwith cobweb hammocks, which they felt sure had been the house of the\nHermit Gnome in the days before he became a Fairy.\n\n\"I must bring my little daughter Hope to see this place,\" declared the\nRed King. \"She would love it best of all. What good times she would have\nwith me here in the forest! I would tell her the story of David, and\nlearn myself to be a woodsman.\"\n\n\"It is more amusing than war,\" declared King Victor. \"With books in the\ncity and woodcraft in the wild, who would be a soldier? Look, now! I\nwill give to your little Princess Hope as a gift this tiny cottage,\nwhere David and his wife and little daughter lived so happily. When she\ncomes to visit our Kingdom,--often, as I hope,--you can play at being a\nwoodsman; which is a good game. But you must promise to let me be your\nguest for at least one night of each visit. For I, too, love these woods\nand this little house which has been my secret retreat for many years.\nWill you accept my gift for your little daughter, Cousin?\"\n\n\"Gladly do I accept!\" cried Red Rex. And they shook hands gayly.\n\nStill further they penetrated across the meadow to the woods once called\nthe Great Fear. Red Rex was anxious to know more of that once dangerous\nneighborhood. But since peace had become the fashion in the Kingdom, the\nwicked Gnomes, who had tried as long as possible to prick war-poison\ninto the hearts of men, found their occupation gone. When the good\nKing's peace plans reached their ears the Gnomes groaned in despair.\nThey held a council, and decided unanimously to curl up forthwith in the\nlong sleep and let the world alone.\n\nThere was now no sign of them, save where here and there a gnarled arm\nor burly bended knee seemed to push up from the ground. But these were\nso covered with mould and moss that it was impossible to tell them from\nthe fallen tree-trunks or mounds of earth. Harold and Robert and Richard\ndid not disturb these mossy mysteries. In times of peace it is better to\nlet sleeping Gnomes lie. Only the makers of ammunition and warships and\nnewspaper scareheads (of whom there were none in King Victor's land)\nwould be eager to see those busy-bodies awake and at their malicious\nwork again, causing peaceful places to become a Great Fear.\n\nWhen the happy fortnight ended, the Red King went back to his Kingdom\nand his little Princess Hope, taking with him the beautiful Lady Anyse.\n\nThen began a time of peace in that hitherto restless land; a time of\npeace and prosperity and happiness, of neighborliness and the exchange\nof friendly doings. King Victor went to visit the erstwhile War-Lord,\nand in that time taught the Red King many useful arts of peace. And who,\nthink you, went with King Victor on that visit? Who but the good\nLibrarian and Harold, his adopted son. The Librarian had his pockets\nfull of plans for a grand new library to be established in the Capital\nof Red Rex. And Harold had his pockets full of stories for the little\nPrincess, and his bag full of sweetmeats for that same wee lady, made by\nhis kind mother who was now pie-maker-general to the Red King, according\nas they had planned.\n\nHarold and the Princess Hope, who was the dearest of little girls in\npink-and-gold, became the best of friends. And when the following summer\nshe came with Red Rex and the Queen Anyse to live in the hut in the\nAncient Wood and play at being wood-folk, Harold and Richard and Robert\ncame also. The three boys encamped (like Boy Scouts) in the woods close\nby the hollow tree which had once been the cell of the Hermit Gnome. And\nthey used his house for their cooling cellar!\n\n*****\n\nSo ended the Siege of Kisington, where the books conquered. And the days\nof peace continued until the time when Harold, having become a famous\nscholar, was chosen Librarian and Governor of Kisington.\n\nIn those days there were no more forts or walls or jealous boundaries\nbetween the Kingdoms; for the lands were one in peace and good-will.\nThere were no armies or weapons or disputes; for the nations understood\nand loved and trusted one another, and their rulers were wise men and\nwomen.\n\nIn those days the Princess Hope had become the most beautiful\nbook-loving maiden in the world, and the wise Governor of her father's\nfairest city, adjoining Kisington.\n\nOf course you can guess what happened next?\n\nAnd they lived happy ever after.\n\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n\nThe Riverside Press\n\nCambridge, Massachusetts\n\nU.S.A","title":"Kisington Town","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":46946}