{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_697/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_697","id":"gutenberg_697","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/697","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Children's Literature","Children's stories, English","Fairy tales","Fairy tales -- Great Britain"],"text":"Produced by Jo Churcher.  HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIGHT PRINCESS\n\n\nby\n\nGEORGE MACDONALD\n\n\n\nContents\n\n   1.  What! No Children?\n   2.  Won't I, Just?\n   3.  She Can't Be Ours.\n   4.  Where Is She?\n   5.  What Is to Be Done?\n   6.  She Laughs Too Much.\n   7.  Try Metaphysics.\n   8.  Try a Drop of Water.\n   9.  Put Me in Again.\n  10.  Look at the Moon.\n  11.  Hiss!\n  12.  Where Is the Prince?\n  13.  Here I Am.\n  14.  This Is Very Kind of You.\n  15.  Look at the Rain!\n\n\n\n\n1.  What! No Children?\n\n\nOnce upon a time, so long ago that I have quite forgotten the date,\nthere lived a king and queen who had no children.\n\nAnd the king said to himself, \"All the queens of my acquaintance have\nchildren, some three, some seven, and some as many as twelve; and my\nqueen has not one.  I feel ill-used.\"  So he made up his mind to be\ncross with his wife about it.  But she bore it all like a good patient\nqueen as she was.  Then the king grew very cross indeed.  But the queen\npretended to take it all as a joke, and a very good one too.\n\n\"Why don't you have any daughters, at least?\" said he.  \"I don't say\nsons; that might be too much to expect.\"\n\n\"I am sure, dear king, I am very sorry,\" said the queen.\n\n\"So you ought to be,\" retorted the king; \"you are not going to make a\nvirtue of that, surely.\"\n\nBut he was not an ill-tempered king, and in any matter of less moment\nwould have let the queen have her own way with all his heart.  This,\nhowever, was an affair of state.\n\nThe queen smiled.\n\n\"You must have patience with a lady, you know, dear king,\" said she.\n\nShe was, indeed, a very nice queen, and heartily sorry that she could\nnot oblige the king immediately.\n\n\n\n2.  Won't I, Just?\n\nThe king tried to have patience, but he succeeded very badly.  It was\nmore than he deserved, therefore, when, at last, the queen gave him a\ndaughter--as lovely a little princess as ever cried.\n\nThe day drew near when the infant must be christened.  The king wrote\nall the invitations with his own hand.  Of course somebody was\nforgotten.  Now it does not generally matter if somebody is forgotten,\nonly you must mind who.  Unfortunately, the king forgot without\nintending to forget; and so the chance fell upon the Princess\nMakemnoit, which was awkward.  For the princess was the king's own\nsister; and he ought not to have forgotten her.  But she had made\nherself so disagreeable to the old king, their father, that he had\nforgotten her in making his will; and so it was no wonder that her\nbrother forgot her in writing his invitations.  But poor relations\ndon't do anything to keep you in mind of them.  Why don't they?  The\nking could not see into the garret she lived in, could he?\n\nShe was a sour, spiteful creature.  The wrinkles of contempt crossed\nthe wrinkles of peevishness, and made her face as full of wrinkles as a\npat of butter.  If ever a king could be justified in forgetting\nanybody, this king was justified in forgetting his sister, even at a\nchristening.  She looked very odd, too.  Her forehead was as large as\nall the rest of her face, and projected over it like a precipice.  When\nshe was angry, her little eyes flashed blue.  When she hated anybody,\nthey shone yellow and green.  What they looked like when she loved\nanybody, I do not know; for I never heard of her loving anybody but\nherself, and I do not think she could have managed that if she had not\nsomehow got used to herself.  But what made it highly imprudent in the\nking to forget her was that she was awfully clever.  In fact, she was a\nwitch; and when she bewitched anybody, he very soon had enough of it;\nfor she beat all the wicked fairies in wickedness, and all the clever\nones in cleverness.  She despised all the modes we read of in history,\nin which offended fairies and witches have taken their revenges; and\ntherefore, after waiting and waiting in vain for an invitation, she\nmade up her mind at last to go without one, and make the whole family\nmiserable, like a princess as she was.\n\nSo she put on her best gown, went to the palace, was kindly received by\nthe happy monarch, who forgot that he had forgotten her, and took her\nplace in the procession to the royal chapel.  When they were all\ngathered about the font, she contrived to get next to it, and throw\nsomething into the water; after which she maintained a very respectful\ndemeanour till the water was applied to the child's face.  But at that\nmoment she turned round in her place three times, and muttered the\nfollowing words, loud enough for those beside her to hear:--\n\n  \"Light of spirit, by my charms,\n  Light of body, every part,\n  Never weary human arms--\n  Only crush thy parents' heart!\"\n\n\nThey all thought she had lost her wits, and was repeating some foolish\nnursery rhyme; but a shudder went through the whole of them\nnotwithstanding.  The baby, on the contrary, began to laugh and crow;\nwhile the nurse gave a start and a smothered cry, for she thought she\nwas struck with paralysis: she could not feel the baby in her arms.\nBut she clasped it tight and said nothing.  The mischief was done.\n\n\n\n3.  She Can't Be Ours.\n\nHer atrocious aunt had deprived the child of all her gravity.  If you\nask me how this was effected, I answer, \"In the easiest way in the\nworld.  She had only to destroy gravitation.\"  For the princess was a\nphilosopher, and knew all the ins and outs of the laws of gravitation\nas well as the ins and outs of her boot-lace.  And being a witch as\nwell, she could abrogate those laws in a moment; or at least so clog\ntheir wheels and rust their bearings, that they would not work at all.\nBut we have more to do with what followed than with how it was done.\n\nThe first awkwardness that resulted from this unhappy privation was,\nthat the moment the nurse began to float the baby up and down, she flew\nfrom her arms towards the ceiling.  Happily, the resistance of the air\nbrought her ascending career to a close within a foot of it.  There she\nremained, horizontal as when she left her nurse's arms, kicking and\nlaughing amazingly.  The nurse in terror flew to the bell, and begged\nthe footman, who answered it, to bring up the house-steps directly.\nTrembling in every limb, she climbed upon the steps, and had to stand\nupon the very top, and reach up, before she could catch the floating\ntail of the baby's long clothes.\n\nWhen the strange fact came to be known, there was a terrible commotion\nin the palace.  The occasion of its discovery by the king was naturally\na repetition of the nurse's experience.  Astonished that he felt no\nweight when the child was laid in his arms, he began to wave her up and\nnot down, for she slowly ascended to the ceiling as before, and there\nremained floating in perfect comfort and satisfaction, as was testified\nby her peals of tiny laughter.  The king stood staring up in speechless\namazement, and trembled so that his beard shook like grass in the wind.\nAt last, turning to the queen, who was just as horror-struck as\nhimself, he said, gasping, staring, and stammering,--\n\n\"She can't be ours, queen!\"\n\nNow the queen was much cleverer than the king, and had begun already to\nsuspect that \"this effect defective came by cause.\"\n\n\"I am sure she is ours,\" answered she.  \"But we ought to have taken\nbetter care of her at the christening.  People who were never invited\nought not to have been present.\"\n\n\"Oh, ho!\" said the king, tapping his forehead with his forefinger, \"I\nhave it all.  I've found her out.  Don't you see it, queen?  Princess\nMakemnoit has bewitched her.\" \"That's just what I say,\" answered the\nqueen.\n\n\"I beg your pardon, my love; I did not hear you.--John! bring the steps\nI get on my throne with.\"\n\nFor he was a little king with a great throne, like many other kings.\n\nThe throne-steps were brought, and set upon the dining-table, and John\ngot upon the top of them.  But he could not reach the little princess,\nwho lay like a baby-laughter-cloud in the air, exploding continuously.\n\"Take the tongs, John,\" said his Majesty; and getting up on the table,\nhe handed them to him.\n\nJohn could reach the baby now, and the little princess was handed down\nby the tongs.\n\n\n\n4.  Where Is She?\n\nOne fine summer day, a month after these her first adventures, during\nwhich time she had been very carefully watched, the princess was lying\non the bed in the queen's own chamber, fast asleep.  One of the windows\nwas open, for it was noon, and the day was so sultry that the little\ngirl was wrapped in nothing less ethereal than slumber itself.  The\nqueen came into the room, and not observing that the baby was on the\nbed, opened another window.  A frolicsome fairy wind, which had been\nwatching for a chance of mischief, rushed in at the one window, and\ntaking its way over the bed where the child was lying, caught her up,\nand rolling and floating her along like a piece of flue, or a dandelion\nseed, carried her with it through the opposite window, and away.  The\nqueen went down-stairs, quite ignorant of the loss she had herself\noccasioned.\n\nWhen the nurse returned, she supposed that her Majesty had carried her\noff, and, dreading a scolding, delayed making inquiry about her.  But\nhearing nothing, she grew uneasy, and went at length to the queen's\nboudoir, where she found her Majesty.\n\n\"Please, your Majesty, shall I take the baby?\" said she.\n\n\"Where is she?\" asked the queen.\n\n\"Please forgive me.  I know it was wrong.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" said the queen, looking grave.\n\n\"Oh! don't frighten me, your Majesty!\" exclaimed the nurse, clasping\nher hands.\n\nThe queen saw that something was amiss, and fell down in a faint.  The\nnurse rushed about the palace, screaming, \"My baby! my baby!\"\n\nEvery one ran to the queen's room.  But the queen could give no orders.\nThey soon found out, however, that the princess was missing, and in a\nmoment the palace was like a beehive in a garden; and in one minute\nmore the queen was brought to herself by a great shout and a clapping\nof hands.  They had found the princess fast asleep under a rose-bush,\nto which the elvish little wind-puff had carried her, finishing its\nmischief by shaking a shower of red rose-leaves all over the little\nwhite sleeper.  Startled by the noise the servants made, she woke, and,\nfurious with glee, scattered the rose-leaves in all directions, like a\nshower of spray in the sunset.\n\nShe was watched more carefully after this, no doubt; yet it would be\nendless to relate all the odd incidents resulting from this peculiarity\nof the young princess.  But there never was a baby in a house, not to\nsay a palace, that kept the household in such constant good humour, at\nleast below-stairs.  If it was not easy for her nurses to hold her, at\nleast she made neither their arms nor their hearts ache.  And she was\nso nice to play at ball with!  There was positively no danger of\nletting her fall.  They might throw her down, or knock her down, or\npush her down, but couldn't let her down.  It is true, they might let\nher fly into the fire or the coal-hole, or through the window; but none\nof these accidents had happened as yet.  If you heard peals of laughter\nresounding from some unknown region, you might be sure enough of the\ncause.  Going down into the kitchen, or the room, you would find Jane\nand Thomas, and Robert and Susan, all and sum, playing at ball with the\nlittle princess.  She was the ball herself, and did not enjoy it the\nless for that.  Away she went, flying from one to another, screeching\nwith laughter.  And the servants loved the ball itself better even than\nthe game.  But they had to take some care how they threw her, for if\nshe received an upward direction, she would never come down again\nwithout being fetched.\n\n\n\n5.  What Is to Be Done?\n\nBut above-stairs it was different.  One day, for instance, after\nbreakfast, the king went into his counting-house, and counted out his\nmoney.  The operation gave him no pleasure.\n\n\"To think,\" said he to himself, \"that every one of these gold\nsovereigns weighs a quarter of an ounce, and my real, live,\nflesh-and-blood princess weighs nothing at all!\"\n\nAnd he hated his gold sovereigns, as they lay with a broad smile of\nself-satisfaction all over their yellow faces.\n\nThe queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey.  But at the\nsecond mouthful she burst out crying, and could not swallow it.\n\nThe king heard her sobbing.  Glad of anybody, but especially of his\nqueen, to quarrel with, he clashed his gold sovereigns into his\nmoney-box, clapped his crown on his head, and rushed into the parlour.\n\n\"What is all this about?\" exclaimed he.  \"What are you crying for,\nqueen?\"\n\n\"I can't eat it,\" said the queen, looking ruefully at the honey-pot.\n\n\"No wonder!\" retorted the king.  \"You've just eaten your breakfast--two\nturkey eggs, and three anchovies.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's not it!\" sobbed her Majesty.  \"It's my child, my child!\"\n\n\"Well, what's the matter with your child?  She's neither up the chimney\nnor down the draw-well.  Just hear her laughing.\"\n\nYet the king could not help a sigh, which he tried to turn into a\ncough, saying--\n\n\"It is a good thing to be light-hearted, I am sure, whether she be ours\nor not.\"\n\n\"It is a bad thing to be light-headed,\" answered the queen, looking\nwith prophetic soul far into the future.\n\n\"'Tis a good thing to be light-handed,\" said the king.\n\n\"'Tis a bad thing to be light-fingered,\" answered the queen.\n\n\"'Tis a good thing to be light-footed,\" said the king.\n\n\"'Tis a bad thing--\" began the queen; but the king interrupted her.\n\n\"In fact,\" said he, with the tone of one who concludes an argument in\nwhich he has had only imaginary opponents, and in which, therefore, he\nhas come off triumphant--\"in fact, it is a good thing altogether to be\nlight-bodied.\"\n\n\"But it is a bad thing altogether to be light-minded,\" retorted the\nqueen, who was beginning to lose her temper.\n\nThis last answer quite discomfited his Majesty, who turned on his heel,\nand betook himself to his counting-house again.  But he was not\nhalf-way towards it, when the voice of his queen overtook him.\n\n\"And it's a bad thing to be light-haired,\" screamed she, determined to\nhave more last words, now that her spirit was roused.\n\nThe queen's hair was black as night; and the king's had been, and his\ndaughter's was, golden as morning.  But it was not this reflection on\nhis hair that arrested him; it was the double use of the word light.\nFor the king hated all witticisms, and punning especially.  And\nbesides, he could not tell whether the queen meant light-haired or\nlight-heired; for why might she not aspirate her vowels when she was\nexasperated herself?\n\nHe turned upon his other heel, and rejoined her.  She looked angry\nstill, because she knew that she was guilty, or, what was much the\nsame, knew that HE thought so.\n\n\"My dear queen,\" said he, \"duplicity of any sort is exceedingly\nobjectionable between married people of any rank, not to say kings and\nqueens; and the most objectionable form duplicity can assume is that of\npunning.\"\n\n\"There!\" said the queen, \"I never made a jest, but I broke it in the\nmaking.  I am the most unfortunate woman in the world!\"\n\nShe looked so rueful, that the king took her in his arms; and they sat\ndown to consult.\n\n\"Can you bear this?\" said the king.\n\n\"No, I can't,\" said the queen.\n\n\"Well, what's to be done?\" said the king.\n\n\"I'm sure I don't know,\" said the queen.  \"But might you not try an\napology?\"\n\n\"To my old sister, I suppose you mean?\" said the king.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the queen.\n\n\"Well, I don't mind,\" said the king.\n\nSo he went the next morning to the house of the princess, and, making a\nvery humble apology, begged her to undo the spell.  But the princess\ndeclared, with a grave face, that she knew nothing at all about it.\nHer eyes, however, shone pink, which was a sign that she was happy.\nShe advised the king and queen to have patience, and to mend their\nways.  The king returned disconsolate.  The queen tried to comfort him.\n\n\"We will wait till she is older.  She may then be able to suggest\nsomething herself.  She will know at least how she feels, and explain\nthings to us.\"\n\n\"But what if she should marry?\" exclaimed the king, in sudden\nconsternation at the idea.\n\n\"Well, what of that?\" rejoined the queen.  \"Just think!  If she were to\nhave children!  In the course of a hundred years the air might be as\nfull of floating children as of gossamers in autumn.\"\n\n\"That is no business of ours,\" replied the queen.  \"Besides, by that\ntime they will have learned to take care of themselves.\"\n\nA sigh was the king's only answer.\n\nHe would have consulted the court physicians; but he was afraid they\nwould try experiments upon her.\n\n\n\n6.  She Laughs Too Much.\n\nMeantime, notwithstanding awkward occurrences, and griefs that she\nbrought upon her parents, the little princess laughed and grew--not\nfat, but plump and tall.  She reached the age of seventeen, without\nhaving fallen into any worse scrape than a chimney; by rescuing her\nfrom which, a little bird-nesting urchin got fame and a black face.\nNor, thoughtless as she was, had she committed anything worse than\nlaughter at everybody and everything that came in her way.  When she\nwas told, for the sake of experiment, that General Clanrunfort was cut\nto pieces with all his troops, she laughed; when she heard that the\nenemy was on his way to besiege her papa's capital, she laughed hugely;\nbut when she was told that the city would certainly be abandoned to the\nmercy of the enemy's soldiery--why, then she laughed immoderately.  She\nnever could be brought to see the serious side of anything.  When her\nmother cried, she said,--\n\n\"What queer faces mamma makes!  And she squeezes water out of her\ncheeks?  Funny mamma!\"\n\nAnd when her papa stormed at her, she laughed, and danced round and\nround him, clapping her hands, and crying--\n\n\"Do it again, papa.  Do it again!  It's SUCH fun!  Dear, funny papa!\"\n\nAnd if he tried to catch her, she glided from him in an instant, not in\nthe least afraid of him, but thinking it part of the game not to be\ncaught.  With one push of her foot, she would be floating in the air\nabove his head; or she would go dancing backwards and forwards and\nsideways, like a great butterfly.  It happened several times, when her\nfather and mother were holding a consultation about her in private,\nthat they were interrupted by vainly repressed outbursts of laughter\nover their heads; and looking up with indignation, saw her floating at\nfull length in the air above them, whence she regarded them with the\nmost comical appreciation of the position.\n\nOne day an awkward accident happened.  The princess had come out upon\nthe lawn with one of her attendants, who held her by the hand.  Spying\nher father at the other side of the lawn, she snatched her hand from\nthe maid's, and sped across to him.  Now when she wanted to run alone,\nher custom was to catch up a stone in each hand, so that she might come\ndown again after a bound.  Whatever she wore as part of her attire had\nno effect in this way: even gold, when it thus became as it were a part\nof herself, lost all its weight for the time.  But whatever she only\nheld in her hands retained its downward tendency.  On this occasion she\ncould see nothing to catch up but a huge toad, that was walking across\nthe lawn as if he had a hundred years to do it in.  Not knowing what\ndisgust meant, for this was one of her peculiarities, she snatched up\nthe toad and bounded away.  She had almost reached her father, and he\nwas holding out his arms to receive her, and take from her lips the\nkiss which hovered on them like a butterfly on a rosebud, when a puff\nof wind blew her aside into the arms of a young page, who had just been\nreceiving a message from his Majesty.  Now it was no great peculiarity\nin the princess that, once she was set agoing, it always cost her time\nand trouble to check herself.  On this occasion there was no time.  She\nmust kiss-and she kissed the page.  She did not mind it much; for she\nhad no shyness in her composition; and she knew, besides, that she\ncould not help it.  So she only laughed, like a musical box.  The poor\npage fared the worst.  For the princess, trying to correct the\nunfortunate tendency of the kiss, put out her hands to keep her off the\npage; so that, along with the kiss, he received, on the other cheek, a\nslap with the huge black toad, which she poked right into his eye.  He\ntried to laugh, too, but the attempt resulted in such an odd contortion\nof countenance, as showed that there was no danger of his pluming\nhimself on the kiss.  As for the king, his dignity was greatly hurt,\nand he did not speak to the page for a whole month.\n\nI may here remark that it was very amusing to see her run, if her mode\nof progression could properly be called running.  For first she would\nmake a bound; then, having alighted, she would run a few steps, and\nmake another bound.  Sometimes she would fancy she had reached the\nground before she actually had, and her feet would go backwards and\nforwards, running upon nothing at all, like those of a chicken on its\nback.  Then she would laugh like the very spirit of fun; only in her\nlaugh there was something missing.  What it was, I find myself unable\nto describe.  I think it was a certain tone, depending upon the\npossibility of sorrow--MORBIDEZZA, perhaps.  She never smiled.\n\n\n\n7.  Try Metaphysics.\n\nAfter a long avoidance of the painful subject, the king and queen\nresolved to hold a council of three upon it; and so they sent for the\nprincess.  In she came, sliding and flitting and gliding from one piece\nof furniture to another, and put herself at last in an armchair, in a\nsitting posture.  Whether she could be said to sit, seeing she received\nno support from the seat of the chair, I do not pretend to determine.\n\n\"My dear child,\" said the king, \"you must be aware by this time that\nyou are not exactly like other people.\"\n\n\"Oh, you dear funny papa!  I have got a nose, and two eyes, and all the\nrest.  So have you.  So has mamma.\"\n\n\"Now be serious, my dear, for once,\" said the queen.\n\n\"No, thank you, mamma; I had rather not.\"\n\n\"Would you not like to be able to walk like other people?\" said the\nking.\n\n\"No indeed, I should think not.  You only crawl.  You are such slow\ncoaches!\"\n\n\"How do you feel, my child?\" he resumed, after a pause of discomfiture.\n\n\"Quite well, thank you.\"\n\n\"I mean, what do you feel like?\"\n\n\"Like nothing at all, that I know of.\"\n\n\"You must feel like something.\"\n\n\"I feel like a princess with such a funny papa, and such a dear pet of\na queen-mamma!\"\n\n\"Now really!\" began the queen; but the princess interrupted her.\n\n\"Oh Yes,\" she added, \"I remember.  I have a curious feeling sometimes,\nas if I were the only person that had any sense in the whole world.\"\n\nShe had been trying to behave herself with dignity; but now she burst\ninto a violent fit of laughter, threw herself backwards over the chair,\nand went rolling about the floor in an ecstasy of enjoyment.  The king\npicked her up easier than one does a down quilt, and replaced her in\nher former relation to the chair.  The exact preposition expressing\nthis relation I do not happen to know.\n\n\"Is there nothing you wish for?\" resumed the king, who had learned by\nthis time that it was useless to be angry with her.\n\n\"Oh, you dear papa!--yes,\" answered she.\n\n\"What is it, my darling?\"\n\n\"I have been longing for it--oh, such a time!--ever since last night.\"\n\"Tell me what it is.\"\n\n\"Will you promise to let me have it?\"\n\nThe king was on the point of saying Yes, but the wiser queen checked\nhim with a single motion of her head.  \"Tell me what it is first,\" said\nhe.\n\n\"No no.  Promise first.\"\n\n\"I dare not.  What is it?\"\n\n\"Mind, I hold you to your promise.--It is--to be tied to the end of a\nstring--a very long string indeed, and be flown like a kite.  Oh, such\nfun!  I would rain rose-water, and hail sugar-plums, and snow\nwhipped-cream, and--and--and--\"\n\nA fit of laughing checked her; and she would have been off again over\nthe floor, had not the king started up and caught her just in time.\nSeeing nothing but talk could be got out of her, he rang the bell, and\nsent her away with two of her ladies-in-waiting.\n\n\"Now, queen,\" he said, turning to her Majesty, \"what IS to be done?\"\n\n\"There is but one thing left,\" answered she.  \"Let us consult the\ncollege of Metaphysicians.\"\n\n\"Bravo!\" cried the king; \"we will.\"\n\nNow at the head of this college were two very wise Chinese\nphilosophers-by name Hum-Drum, and Kopy-Keck.  For them the king sent;\nand straightway they came.  In a long speech he communicated to them\nwhat they knew very well already--as who did not?--namely, the peculiar\ncondition of his daughter in relation to the globe on which she dwelt;\nand requested them to consult together as to what might be the cause\nand probable cure of her INFIRMITY.  The king laid stress upon the\nword, but failed to discover his own pun.  The queen laughed; but\nHum-Drum and Kopy-Keck heard with humility and retired in silence.\n\nThe consultation consisted chiefly in propounding and supporting, for\nthe thousandth time, each his favourite theories.  For the condition of\nthe princess afforded delightful scope for the discussion of every\nquestion arising from the division of thought-in fact, of all the\nMetaphysics of the Chinese Empire.  But it is only justice to say that\nthey did not altogether neglect the discussion of the practical\nquestion, what was to be done.\n\nHum-Drum was a Materialist, and Kopy-Keck was a Spiritualist.  The\nformer was slow and sententious; the latter was quick and flighty: the\nlatter had generally the first word; the former the last.\n\n\"I reassert my former assertion,\" began Kopy-Keck, with a plunge.\n\"There is not a fault in the princess, body or soul; only they are\nwrong put together.  Listen to me now, Hum-Drum, and I will tell you in\nbrief what I think.  Don't speak.  Don't answer me.  I won't hear you\ntill I have done.--  At that decisive moment, when souls seek their\nappointed habitations, two eager souls met, struck, rebounded, lost\ntheir way, and arrived each at the wrong place.  The soul of the\nprincess was one of those, and she went far astray.  She does not\nbelong by rights to this world at all, but to some other planet,\nprobably Mercury.  Her proclivity to her true sphere destroys all the\nnatural influence which this orb would otherwise possess over her\ncorporeal frame.  She cares for nothing here.  There is no relation\nbetween her and this world.\n\n\"She must therefore be taught, by the sternest compulsion, to take an\ninterest in the earth as the earth.  She must study every department of\nits history--its animal history; its vegetable history; its mineral\nhistory; its social history; its moral history; its political history,\nits scientific history; its literary history; its musical history; its\nartistical history; above all, its metaphysical history.  She must\nbegin with the Chinese dynasty and end with Japan.  But first of all\nshe must study geology, and especially the history of the extinct races\nof animals-their natures, their habits, their loves, their hates, their\nrevenges.  She must--\"\n\n\"Hold, h-o-o-old!\" roared Hum-Drum.  \"It is certainly my turn now.  My\nrooted and insubvertible conviction is, that the causes of the\nanomalies evident in the princess's condition are strictly and solely\nphysical.  But that is only tantamount to acknowledging that they\nexist.  Hear my opinion.--  From some cause or other, of no importance\nto our inquiry, the motion of her heart has been reversed.  That\nremarkable combination of the suction and the force-pump works the\nwrong way-I mean in the case of the unfortunate princess: it draws in\nwhere it should force out, and forces out where it should draw in.  The\noffices of the auricles and the ventricles are subverted.  The blood is\nsent forth by the veins, and returns by the arteries.  Consequently it\nis running the wrong way through all her corporeal organism--lungs and\nall.  Is it then at all mysterious, seeing that such is the case, that\non the other particular of gravitation as well, she should differ from\nnormal humanity?  My proposal for the cure is this:--\n\n\"Phlebotomize until she is reduced to the last point of safety.  Let it\nbe effected, if necessary, in a warm bath.  When she is reduced to a\nstate of perfect asphyxy, apply a ligature to the left ankle, drawing\nit as tight as the bone will bear.  Apply, at the same moment, another\nof equal tension around the right wrist.  By means of plates\nconstructed for the purpose, place the other foot and hand under the\nreceivers of two air-pumps.  Exhaust the receivers.  Exhibit a pint of\nFrench brandy, and await the result.\"\n\n\"Which would presently arrive in the form of grim Death,\" said\nKopy-Keck.\n\n\"If it should, she would yet die in doing our duty,\" retorted Hum-Drum.\n\nBut their Majesties had too much tenderness for their volatile\noffspring to subject her to either of the schemes of the equally\nunscrupulous philosophers.  Indeed, the most complete knowledge of the\nlaws of nature would have been unserviceable in her case; for it was\nimpossible to classify her.  She was a fifth imponderable body, sharing\nall the other properties of the ponderable.\n\n\n\n8.  Try a Drop of Water.\n\nPerhaps the best thing for the princess would have been to fall in\nlove.  But how a princess who had no gravity could fall into anything\nis a difficulty--perhaps THE difficulty.\n\nAs for her own feelings on the subject, she did not even know that\nthere was such a beehive of honey and stings to be fallen into.  But\nnow I come to mention another curious fact about her.\n\nThe palace was built on the shores of the loveliest lake in the world;\nand the princess loved this lake more than father or mother.  The root\nof this preference no doubt, although the princess did not recognise it\nas such, was, that the moment she got into it, she recovered the\nnatural right of which she had been so wickedly deprived--namely,\ngravity.  Whether this was owing to the fact that water had been\nemployed as the means of conveying the injury, I do not know.  But it\nis certain that she could swim and dive like the duck that her old\nnurse said she was.  The manner in which this alleviation of her\nmisfortune was discovered was as follows.\n\nOne summer evening, during the carnival of the country, she had been\ntaken upon the lake by the king and queen, in the royal barge.  They\nwere accompanied by many of the courtiers in a fleet of little boats.\nIn the middle of the lake she wanted to get into the lord chancellor's\nbarge, for his daughter, who was a great favourite with her, was in it\nwith her father.  Now though the old king rarely condescended to make\nlight of his misfortune, yet, Happening on this occasion to be in a\nparticularly good humour, as the barges approached each other, he\ncaught up the princess to throw her into the chancellor's barge.  He\nlost his balance, however, and, dropping into the bottom of the barge,\nlost his hold of his daughter; not, however, before imparting to her\nthe downward tendency of his own person, though in a somewhat different\ndirection; for, as the king fell into the boat, she fell into the\nwater.  With a burst of delighted laughter she disappeared in the lake.\nA cry of horror ascended from the boats.  They had never seen the\nprincess go down before.  Half the men were under water in a moment;\nbut they had all, one after another, come up to the surface again for\nbreath, when--tinkle, tinkle, babble, and gush! came the princess's\nlaugh over the water from far away.  There she was, swimming like a\nswan.  Nor would she come out for king or queen, chancellor or\ndaughter.  She was perfectly obstinate.\n\nBut at the same time she seemed more sedate than usual.  Perhaps that\nwas because a great pleasure spoils laughing.  At all events, after\nthis, the passion of her life was to get into the water, and she was\nalways the better behaved and the more beautiful the more she had of\nit.  Summer and winter it was quite the same; only she could not stay\nso long in the water when they had to break the ice to let her in.  Any\nday, from morning till evening in summer, she might be descried--a\nstreak of white in the blue water--lying as still as the shadow of a\ncloud, or shooting along like a dolphin; disappearing, and coming up\nagain far off, just where one did not expect her.  She would have been\nin the lake of a night, too, if she could have had her way; for the\nbalcony of her window overhung a deep pool in it; and through a shallow\nreedy passage she could have swum out into the wide wet water, and no\none would have been any the wiser.  Indeed, when she happened to wake\nin the moonlight she could hardly resist the temptation.  But there was\nthe sad difficulty of getting into it.  She had as great a dread of the\nair as some children have of the water.  For the slightest gust of wind\nwould blow her away; and a gust might arise in the stillest moment.\nAnd if she gave herself a push towards the water and just failed of\nreaching it, her situation would be dreadfully awkward, irrespective of\nthe wind; for at best there she would have to remain, suspended in her\nnightgown, till she was seen and angled for by someone from the window.\n\n\"Oh! if I had my gravity,\" thought she, contemplating the water, \"I\nwould flash off this balcony like a long white sea-bird, headlong into\nthe darling wetness.  Heigh-ho!\"\n\nThis was the only consideration that made her wish to be like other\npeople.\n\nAnother reason for her being fond of the water was that in it alone she\nenjoyed any freedom.  For she could not walk out without a cortege,\nconsisting in part of a troop of light horse, for fear of the liberties\nwhich the wind might take with her.  And the king grew more\napprehensive with increasing years, till at last he would not allow her\nto walk abroad at all without some twenty silken cords fastened to as\nmany parts of her dress, and held by twenty noblemen.  Of course\nhorseback was out of the question.  But she bade good-by to all this\nceremony when she got into the water.\n\nAnd so remarkable were its effects upon her, especially in restoring\nher for the time to the ordinary human gravity, that Hum-Drum and\nKopy-Keck agreed in recommending the king to bury her alive for three\nyears; in the hope that, as the water did her so much good, the earth\nwould do her yet more.  But the king had some vulgar prejudices against\nthe experiment, and would not give his consent.  Foiled in this, they\nyet agreed in another recommendation; which, seeing that one imported\nhis opinions from China and the other from Thibet, was very remarkable\nindeed.  They argued that, if water of external origin and application\ncould be so efficacious, water from a deeper source might work a\nperfect cure; in short, that if the poor afflicted princess could by\nany means be made to cry, she might recover her lost gravity.\n\nBut how was this to be brought about?  Therein lay all the\ndifficulty--to meet which the philosophers were not wise enough.  To\nmake the princess cry was as impossible as to make her weigh.  They\nsent for a professional beggar; commanded him to prepare his most\ntouching oracle of woe; helped him out of the court charade box, to\nwhatever he wanted for dressing up, and promised great rewards in the\nevent of his success.  But it was all in vain.  She listened to the\nmendicant artist's story, and gazed at his marvellous make up, till she\ncould contain herself no longer, and went into the most undignified\ncontortions for relief, shrieking, positively screeching with laughter.\n\nWhen she had a little recovered herself, she ordered her attendants to\ndrive him away, and not give him a single copper; whereupon his look of\nmortified discomfiture wrought her punishment and his revenge, for it\nsent her into violent hysterics, from which she was with difficulty\nrecovered.\n\nBut so anxious was the king that the suggestion should have a fair\ntrial, that he put himself in a rage one day, and, rushing up to her\nroom, gave her an awful whipping.  Yet not a tear would flow.  She\nlooked grave, and her laughing sounded uncommonly like screaming--that\nwas all.  The good old tyrant, though he put on his best gold\nspectacles to look, could not discover the smallest cloud in the serene\nblue of her eyes.\n\n\n\n9.  Put Me in Again.\n\nIt must have been about this time that the son of a king, who lived a\nthousand miles from Lagobel set out to look for the daughter of a\nqueen.  He travelled far and wide, but as sure as he found a princess,\nhe found some fault in her.  Of course he could not marry a mere woman,\nhowever beautiful; and there was no princess to be found worthy of him.\nWhether the prince was so near perfection that he had a right to demand\nperfection itself, I cannot pretend to say.  All I know is, that he was\na fine, handsome, brave, generous, well-bred, and well-behaved youth,\nas all princes are.\n\nIn his wanderings he had come across some reports about our princess;\nbut as everybody said she was bewitched, he never dreamed that she\ncould bewitch him.  For what indeed could a prince do with a princess\nthat had lost her gravity?  Who could tell what she might not lose\nnext?  She might lose her visibility, or her tangibility; or, in short,\nthe power of making impressions upon the radical sensorium; so that he\nshould never be able to tell whether she was dead or alive.  Of course\nhe made no further inquiries about her.  One day he lost sight of his\nretinue in a great forest.  These forests are very useful in delivering\nprinces from their courtiers, like a sieve that keeps back the bran.\nThen the princes get away to follow their fortunes.  In this way they\nhave the advantage of the princesses, who are forced to marry before\nthey have had a bit of fun.  I wish our princesses got lost in a forest\nsometimes.\n\nOne lovely evening, after wandering about for many days, he found that\nhe was approaching the outskirts of this forest; for the trees had got\nso thin that he could see the sunset through them; and he soon came\nupon a kind of heath.  Next he came upon signs of human neighbourhood;\nbut by this time it was getting late, and there was nobody in the\nfields to direct him.\n\nAfter travelling for another hour, his horse, quite worn out with long\nlabour and lack of food, fell, and was unable to rise again.  So he\ncontinued his journey on foot.  At length he entered another wood--not\na wild forest, but a civilized wood, through which a footpath led him\nto the side of a lake.  Along this path the prince pursued his way\nthrough the gathering darkness.  Suddenly he paused, and listened.\nStrange sounds came across the water.  It was, in fact, the princess\nlaughing.  Now there was something odd in her laugh, as I have already\nhinted; for the hatching of a real hearty laugh requires the incubation\nof gravity; and perhaps this was how the prince mistook the laughter\nfor screaming.  Looking over the lake, he saw something white in the\nwater; and, in an instant, he had torn off his tunic, kicked off his\nsandals, and plunged in.  He soon reached the white object, and found\nthat it was a woman.  There was not light enough to show that she was a\nprincess, but quite enough to show that she was a lady, for it does not\nwant much light to see that.\n\nNow I cannot tell how it came about,--whether she pretended to be\ndrowning, or whether he frightened her, or caught her so as to\nembarrass her,--but certainly he brought her to shore in a fashion\nignominious to a swimmer, and more nearly drowned than she had ever\nexpected to be; for the water had got into her throat as often as she\nhad tried to speak.\n\nAt the place to which he bore her, the bank was only a foot or two\nabove the water; so he gave her a strong lift out of the water, to lay\nher on the bank.  But, her gravitation ceasing the moment she left the\nwater, away she went up into the air, scolding and screaming.\n\n\"You naughty, naughty, NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY man!\" she cried.\n\nNo one had ever succeeded in putting her into a passion before.--When\nthe prince saw her ascend, he thought he must have been bewitched, and\nhave mistaken a great swan for a lady.  But the princess caught hold of\nthe topmost cone upon a lofty fir.  This came off; but she caught at\nanother; and, in fact, stopped herself by gathering cones, dropping\nthem as the stalks gave way.  The prince, meantime, stood in the water,\nstaring, and forgetting to get out.  But the princess disappearing, he\nscrambled on shore, and went in the direction of the tree.  There he\nfound her climbing down one of the branches towards the stem.  But in\nthe darkness of the wood, the prince continued in some bewilderment as\nto what the phenomenon could be; until, reaching the ground, and seeing\nhim standing there, she caught hold of him, and said,--\n\n\"I'll tell papa.\"\n\n\"Oh no, you won't!\" returned the prince.\n\n\"Yes, I will,\" she persisted.  \"What business had you to pull me down\nout of the water, and throw me to the bottom of the air?  I never did\nyou any harm.\"\n\n\"Pardon me.  I did not mean to hurt you.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you have any brains; and that is a worse loss than\nyour wretched gravity.  I pity you.\"\n\nThe prince now saw that he had come upon the bewitched princess, and\nhad already offended her.  But before he could think what to say next,\nshe burst out angrily, giving a stamp with her foot that would have\nsent her aloft again but for the hold she had of his arm,--\n\n\"Put me up directly.\"\n\n\"Put you up where, you beauty?\" asked the prince.\n\nHe had fallen in love with her almost, already; for her anger made her\nmore charming than any one else had ever beheld her; and, as far as he\ncould see, which certainly was not far, she had not a single fault\nabout her, except, of course, that she had not any gravity.  No prince,\nhowever, would judge of a princess by weight.  The loveliness of her\nfoot he would hardly estimate by the depth of the impression it could\nmake in mud.\n\n\"Put you up where, you beauty?\" asked the prince.\n\n\"In the water, you stupid!\" answered the princess.\n\n\"Come, then,\" said the prince.\n\nThe condition of her dress, increasing her usual difficulty in walking,\ncompelled her to cling to him; and he could hardly persuade himself\nthat he was not in a delightful dream, notwithstanding the torrent of\nmusical abuse with which she overwhelmed him.  The prince being\ntherefore in no hurry, they came upon the lake at quite another part,\nwhere the bank was twenty-five feet high at least; and when they had\nreached the edge, he turned towards the princess, and said,--\n\n\"How am I to put you in?\" \"That is your business,\" she answered, quite\nsnappishly.  \"You took me out--put me in again.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the prince; and, catching her up in his arms, he\nsprang with her from the rock.  The princess had just time to give one\ndelighted shriek of laughter before the water closed over them.  When\nthey came to the surface, she found that, for a moment or two, she\ncould not even laugh, for she had gone down with such a rush, that it\nwas with difficulty she recovered her breath.  The instant they reached\nthe surface--\n\n\"How do you like falling in?\" said the prince.\n\nAfter some effort the princess panted out,--\n\n\"Is that what you call FALLING IN?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the prince, \"I should think it a very tolerable\nspecimen.\"\n\n\"It seemed to me like going up,\" rejoined she.\n\n\"My feeling was certainly one of elevation too,\" the prince conceded.\n\nThe princess did not appear to understand him, for she retorted his\nquestion:--\n\n\"How do YOU like falling in?\" said the princess.\n\n\"Beyond everything,\" answered he; \"for I have fallen in with the only\nperfect creature I ever saw.\"\n\n\"No more of that: I am tired of it,\" said the princess.\n\nPerhaps she shared her father's aversion to punning.\n\n\"Don't you like falling in then?\" said the prince.\n\n\"It is the most delightful fun I ever had in my life,\" answered she.\n\"I never fell before.  I wish I could learn.  To think I am the only\nperson in my father's kingdom that can't fall!\"\n\nHere the poor princess looked almost sad.\n\n\"I shall be most happy to fall in with you any time you like,\" said the\nprince, devotedly.\n\n\"Thank you.  I don't know.  Perhaps it would not be proper.  But I\ndon't care.  At all events, as we have fallen in, let us have a swim\ntogether.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" responded the prince.\n\nAnd away they went, swimming, and diving, and floating, until at last\nthey heard cries along the shore, and saw lights glancing in all\ndirections.  It was now quite late, and there was no moon.\n\n\"I must go home,\" said the princess.  \"I am very sorry, for this is\ndelightful.\"\n\n\"So am I,\" returned the prince.  \"But I am glad I haven't a home to go\nto--at least, I don't exactly know where it is.\"\n\n\"I wish I hadn't one either,\" rejoined the princess; \"it is so stupid!\nI have a great mind,\" she continued, \"to play them all a trick.  Why\ncouldn't they leave me alone?  They won't trust me in the lake for a\nsingle night!--You see where that green light is burning?  That is the\nwindow of my room.  Now if you would just swim there with me very\nquietly, and when we are all but under the balcony, give me such a\npush--up you call it-as you did a little while ago, I should be able to\ncatch hold of the balcony, and get in at the window; and then they may\nlook for me till to-morrow morning!\"\n\n\"With more obedience than pleasure,\" said the prince, gallantly; and\naway they swam, very gently.\n\n\"Will you be in the lake to-morrow night?\" the prince ventured to ask.\n\n\"To be sure I will.  I don't think so.  Perhaps,\" was the princess's\nsomewhat strange answer.\n\nBut the prince was intelligent enough not to press her further; and\nmerely whispered, as he gave her the parting lift, \"Don't tell.\"\n\nThe only answer the princess returned was a roguish look.  She was\nalready a yard above his head.  The look seemed to say, \"Never fear.\nIt is too good fun to spoil that way.\"\n\nSo perfectly like other people had she been in the water, that even yet\nthe prince could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw her ascend\nslowly, grasp the balcony, and disappear through the window.  He\nturned, almost expecting to see her still by his side.  But he was\nalone in the water.  So he swam away quietly, and watched the lights\nroving about the shore for hours after the princess was safe in her\nchamber.  As soon as they disappeared, he landed in search of his tunic\nand sword, and, after some trouble, found them again.  Then he made the\nbest of his way round the lake to the other side.  There the wood was\nwilder, and the shore steeper-rising more immediately towards the\nmountains which surrounded the lake on all sides, and kept sending it\nmessages of silvery streams from morning to night, and all night long.\nHe soon found a spot whence he could see the green light in the\nprincess's room, and where, even in the broad daylight, he would be in\nno danger of being discovered from the opposite shore.  It was a sort\nof cave in the rock, where he provided himself a bed of withered\nleaves, and lay down too tired for hunger to keep him awake.  All night\nlong he dreamed that he was swimming with the princess.\n\n\n\n10.  Look at the Moon.\n\nEarly the next morning the prince set out to look for something to eat,\nwhich he soon found at a forester's hut, where for many following days\nhe was supplied with all that a brave prince could consider necessary.\nAnd having plenty to keep him alive for the present, he would not think\nof wants not yet in existence.  Whenever Care intruded, this prince\nalways bowed him out in the most princely manner.  When he returned\nfrom his breakfast to his watch-cave, he saw the princess already\nfloating about in the lake, attended by the king and queen whom he knew\nby their crowns--and a great company in lovely little boats, with\ncanopies of all the colours of the rainbow, and flags and streamers of\na great many more.  It was a very bright day, and soon the prince,\nburned up with the heat, began to long for the cold water and the cool\nprincess.  But he had to endure till twilight; for the boats had\nprovisions on board, and it was not till the sun went down that the gay\nparty began to vanish.  Boat after boat drew away to the shore,\nfollowing that of the king and queen, till only one, apparently the\nprincess's own boat, remained.  But she did not want to go home even\nyet, and the prince thought he saw her order the boat to the shore\nwithout her.  At all events, it rowed away; and now, of all the radiant\ncompany, only one white speck remained.  Then the prince began to sing.\nAnd this is what he sung:--\n\n  \"Lady fair,\n  Swan-white,\n  Lift thine eyes,\n  Banish night\n  By the might\n  Of thine eyes.\n\n  Snowy arms,\n  Oars of snow,\n  Oar her hither,\n  Plashing low.\n  Soft and slow,\n  Oar her hither.\n\n  Stream behind her\n  O'er the lake,\n  Radiant whiteness!\n  In her wake\n  Following, following for her sake.\n  Radiant whiteness!\n\n  Cling about her,\n  Waters blue;\n  Part not from her,\n  But renew\n  Cold and true\n  Kisses round her.\n\n  Lap me round,\n  Waters sad,\n  That have left her.\n  Make me glad,\n  For ye had\n  Kissed her ere ye left her.\"\n\nBefore he had finished his song, the princess was just under the place\nwhere he sat, and looking up to find him.  Her ears had led her truly.\n\n\"Would you like a fall, princess?\" said the prince, looking down.\n\n\"Ah! there you are!  Yes, if you please, prince,\" said the princess,\nlooking up.\n\n\"How do you know I am a prince, princess?\" said the prince.\n\n\"Because you are a very nice young man, prince,\" said the princess.\n\n\"Come up then, princess.\"\n\n\"Fetch me, prince.\"\n\nThe prince took off his scarf, then his sword-belt, then his tunic, and\ntied them all together, and let them down.  But the line was far too\nshort.  He unwound his turban, and added it to the rest, when it was\nall but long enough; and his purse completed it.  The princess just\nmanaged to lay hold of the knot of money, and was beside him in a\nmoment.  This rock was much higher than the other, and the splash and\nthe dive were tremendous.  The princess was in ecstasies of delight,\nand their swim was delicious.\n\nNight after night they met, and swam about in the dark clear lake;\nwhere such was the prince's gladness, that (whether the princess's way\nof looking at things infected him, or he was actually getting\nlight-headed) he often fancied that he was swimming in the sky instead\nof the lake.  But when he talked about being in heaven, the princess\nlaughed at him dreadfully.\n\nWhen the moon came, she brought them fresh pleasure.  Everything looked\nstrange and new in her light, with an old, withered, yet unfading\nnewness.  When the moon was nearly full, one of their great delights\nwas, to dive deep in the water, and then, turning round, look up\nthrough it at the great blot of light close above them, shimmering and\ntrembling and wavering, spreading and contracting, seeming to melt\naway, and again grow solid.  Then they would shoot up through the blot;\nand lo! there was the moon, far off, clear and steady and cold, and\nvery lovely, at the bottom of a deeper and bluer lake than theirs, as\nthe princess said.\n\nThe prince soon found out that while in the water the princess was very\nlike other people.  And besides this, she was not so forward in her\nquestions or pert in her replies at sea as on shore.  Neither did she\nlaugh so much; and when she did laugh, it was more gently.  She seemed\naltogether more modest and maidenly in the water than out of it.\n\nBut when the prince, who had really fallen in love when he fell in the\nlake, began to talk to her about love, she always turned her head\ntowards him and laughed.  After a while she began to look puzzled, as\nif she were trying to understand what he meant, but could\nnot--revealing a notion that he meant something.  But as soon as ever\nshe left the lake, she was so altered, that the prince said to himself,\n\"If I marry her, I see no help for it: we must turn merman and mermaid,\nand go out to sea at once.\"\n\n\n\n11.  Hiss!\n\nThe princess's pleasure in the lake had grown to a passion, and she\ncould scarcely bear to be out of it for an hour.  Imagine then her\nconsternation, when, diving with the prince one night, a sudden\nsuspicion seized her that the lake was not so deep as it used to be.\nThe prince could not imagine what had happened.  She shot to the\nsurface, and, without a word, swam at full speed towards the higher\nside of the lake.  He followed, begging to know if she was ill, or what\nwas the matter.  She never turned her head, or took the smallest notice\nof his question.  Arrived at the shore, she coasted the rocks with\nminute inspection.  But she was not able to come to a conclusion, for\nthe moon was very small, and so she could not see well.  She turned\ntherefore and swam home, without saying a word to explain her conduct\nto the prince, of whose presence she seemed no longer conscious.  He\nwithdrew to his cave, in great perplexity and distress.\n\nNext day she made many observations, which, alas! strengthened her\nfears.  She saw that the banks were too dry; and that the grass on the\nshore, and the trailing plants on the rocks, were withering away.  She\ncaused marks to be made along the borders, and examined them, day after\nday, in all directions of the wind; till at last the horrible idea\nbecame a certain fact--that the surface of the lake was slowly sinking.\n\nThe poor princess nearly went out of the little mind she had.  It was\nawful to her to see the lake, which she loved more than any living\nthing, lie dying before her eyes.  It sank away, slowly vanishing.  The\ntops of rocks that had never been seen till now, began to appear far\ndown in the clear water.  Before long they were dry in the sun.  It was\nfearful to think of the mud that would soon lie there baking and\nfestering, full of lovely creatures dying, and ugly creatures coming to\nlife, like the unmaking of a world.  And how hot the sun would be\nwithout any lake!  She could not bear to swim in it any more, and began\nto pine away.  Her life seemed bound up with it; and ever as the lake\nsank, she pined.  People said she would not live an hour after the lake\nwas gone.\n\nBut she never cried.\n\nA Proclamation was made to all the kingdom, that whosoever should\ndiscover the cause of the lake's decrease, would be rewarded after a\nprincely fashion.  Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck applied themselves to their\nphysics and metaphysics; but in vain.  Not even they could suggest a\ncause.\n\nNow the fact was that the old princess was at the root of the mischief.\nWhen she heard that her niece found more pleasure in the water than any\none else out of it, she went into a rage, and cursed herself for her\nwant of foresight.\n\n\"But,\" said she, \"I will soon set all right.  The king and the people\nshall die of thirst; their brains shall boil and frizzle in their\nskulls before I will lose my revenge.\"\n\nAnd she laughed a ferocious laugh, that made the hairs on the back of\nher black cat stand erect with terror.\n\nThen she went to an old chest in the room, and opening it, took out\nwhat looked like a piece of dried seaweed.  This she threw into a tub\nof water.  Then she threw some powder into the water, and stirred it\nwith her bare arm, muttering over it words of hideous sound, and yet\nmore hideous import.  Then she set the tub aside, and took from the\nchest a huge bunch of a hundred rusty keys, that clattered in her\nshaking hands.  Then she sat down and proceeded to oil them all.\nBefore she had finished, out from the tub, the water of which had kept\non a slow motion ever since she had ceased stirring it, came the head\nand half the body of a huge gray snake.  But the witch did not look\nround.  It grew out of the tub, waving itself backwards and forwards\nwith a slow horizontal motion, till it reached the princess, when it\nlaid its head upon her shoulder, and gave a low hiss in her ear.  She\nstarted--but with joy; and seeing the head resting on her shoulder,\ndrew it towards her and kissed it.  Then she drew it all out of the\ntub, and wound it round her body.  It was one of those dreadful\ncreatures which few have ever beheld--the White Snakes of Darkness.\n\nThen she took the keys and went down to her cellar; and as she unlocked\nthe door she said to herself,--\n\n\"This is worth living for!\"\n\nLocking the door behind her, she descended a few steps into the cellar,\nand crossing it, unlocked another door into a dark, narrow passage.\nShe locked this also behind her, and descended a few more steps.  If\nany one had followed the witch-princess, he would have heard her unlock\nexactly one hundred doors, and descend a few steps after unlocking\neach.  When she had unlocked the last, she entered a vast cave, the\nroof of which was supported by huge natural pillars of rock.  Now this\nroof was the under side of the bottom of the lake.\n\nShe then untwined the snake from her body, and held it by the tail high\nabove her.  The hideous creature stretched up its head towards the roof\nof the cavern, which it was just able to reach.  It then began to move\nits head backwards and forwards, with a slow oscillating motion, as if\nlooking for something.  At the same moment the witch began to walk\nround and round the cavern, coming nearer to the centre every circuit;\nwhile the head of the snake described the same path over the roof that\nshe did over the floor, for she kept holding it up.  And still it kept\nslowly oscillating.  Round and round the cavern they went, ever\nlessening the circuit, till at last the snake made a sudden dart, and\nclung to the roof with its mouth.\n\n\"That's right, my beauty!\" cried the princess; \"drain it dry.\"\n\nShe let it go, left it hanging, and sat down on a great stone, with her\nblack cat, which had followed her all round the cave, by her side.\nThen she began to knit and mutter awful words.  The snake hung like a\nhuge leech, sucking at the stone; the cat stood with his back arched,\nand his tail like a piece of cable, looking up at the snake; and the\nold woman sat and knitted and muttered.  Seven days and seven nights\nthey remained thus; when suddenly the serpent dropped from the roof as\nif exhausted, and shrivelled up till it was again like a piece of dried\nseaweed.  The witch started to her feet, picked it up, put it in her\npocket, and looked up at the roof.  One drop of water was trembling on\nthe spot where the snake had been sucking.  As soon as she saw that,\nshe turned and fled, followed by her cat.  Shutting the door in a\nterrible hurry, she locked it, and having muttered some frightful\nwords, sped to the next, which also she locked and muttered over; and\nso with all the hundred doors, till she arrived in her own cellar.\nThen she sat down on the floor ready to faint, but listening with\nmalicious delight to the rushing of the water, which she could hear\ndistinctly through all the hundred doors.\n\nBut this was not enough.  Now that she had tasted revenge, she lost her\npatience.  Without further measures, the lake would be too long in\ndisappearing.  So the next night, with the last shred of the dying old\nmoon rising, she took some of the water in which she had revived the\nsnake, put it in a bottle, and set out, accompanied by her cat.  Before\nmorning she had made the entire circuit of the lake, muttering fearful\nwords as she crossed every stream, and casting into it some of the\nwater out of her bottle.  When she had finished the circuit she\nmuttered yet again, and flung a handful of water towards the moon.\nThereupon every spring in the country ceased to throb and bubble, dying\naway like the pulse of a dying man.  The next day there was no sound of\nfalling water to be heard along the borders of the lake.  The very\ncourses were dry; and the mountains showed no silvery streaks down\ntheir dark sides.  And not alone had the fountains of mother Earth\nceased to flow; for all the babies throughout the country were crying\ndreadfully--only without tears.\n\n\n\n12.  Where Is the Prince?\n\nNever since the night when the princess left him so abruptly had the\nprince had a single interview with her.  He had seen her once or twice\nin the lake; but as far as he could discover, she had not been in it\nany more at night.  He had sat and sung, and looked in vain for his\nNereid; while she, like a true Nereid, was wasting away with her lake,\nsinking as it sank, withering as it dried.  When at length he\ndiscovered the change that was taking place in the level of the water,\nhe was in great alarm and perplexity.  He could not tell whether the\nlake was dying because the lady had forsaken it; or whether the lady\nwould not come because the lake had begun to sink.  But he resolved to\nknow so much at least.\n\nHe disguised himself, and, going to the palace, requested to see the\nlord chamberlain.  His appearance at once gained his request; and the\nlord chamberlain, being a man of some insight, perceived that there was\nmore in the prince's solicitation than met the ear.  He felt likewise\nthat no one could tell whence a solution of the present difficulties\nmight arise.  So he granted the prince's prayer to be made shoeblack to\nthe princess.  It was rather cunning in the prince to request such an\neasy post, for the princess could not possibly soil as many shoes as\nother princesses.\n\nHe soon learned all that could be told about the princess.  He went\nnearly distracted; but after roaming about the lake for days, and\ndiving in every depth that remained, all that he could do was to put an\nextra polish on the dainty pair of boots that was never called for.\n\nFor the princess kept her room, with the curtains drawn to shut out the\ndying lake, But she could not shut it out of her mind for a moment.  It\nhaunted her imagination so that she felt as if the lake were her soul,\ndrying up within her, first to mud, then to madness and death.  She\nthus brooded over the change, with all its dreadful accompaniments,\ntill she was nearly distracted.  As for the prince, she had forgotten\nhim.  However much she had enjoyed his company in the water, she did\nnot care for him without it.  But she seemed to have forgotten her\nfather and mother too.  The lake went on sinking.  Small slimy spots\nbegan to appear, which glittered steadily amidst the changeful shine of\nthe water.  These grew to broad patches of mud, which widened and\nspread, with rocks here and there, and floundering fishes and crawling\neels swarming.  The people went everywhere catching these, and looking\nfor anything that might have dropped from the royal boats.\n\nAt length the lake was all but gone, only a few of the deepest pools\nremaining unexhausted.\n\nIt happened one day that a party of youngsters found themselves on the\nbrink of one of these pools in the very centre of the lake.  It was a\nrocky basin of considerable depth.  Looking in, they saw at the bottom\nsomething that shone yellow in the sun.  A little boy jumped in and\ndived for it.  It was a plate of gold covered with writing.  They\ncarried it to the king.  On one side of it stood these words:--\n\n  \"Death alone from death can save.\n  Love is death, and so is brave--\n  Love can fill the deepest grave.\n  Love loves on beneath the wave.\"\n\n\nNow this was enigmatical enough to the king and courtiers.  But the\nreverse of the plate explained it a little.  Its writing amounted to\nthis:--\n\n\"If the lake should disappear, they must find the hole through which\nthe water ran.  But it would be useless to try to stop it by any\nordinary means.  There was but one effectual mode.--The body of a\nliving man could alone stanch the flow.  The man must give himself of\nhis own will; and the lake must take his life as it filled.  Otherwise\nthe offering would be of no avail.  If the nation could not provide one\nhero, it was time it should perish.\"\n\n\n\n13.  Here I Am.\n\nThis was a very disheartening revelation to the king--not that he was\nunwilling to sacrifice a subject, but that he was hopeless of finding a\nman willing to sacrifice himself.  No time was to be lost, however, for\nthe princess was lying motionless on her bed, and taking no nourishment\nbut lake-water, which was now none of the best.  Therefore the king\ncaused the contents of the wonderful plate of gold to be published\nthroughout the country.\n\nNo one, however, came forward.\n\nThe prince, having gone several days' journey into the forest, to\nconsult a hermit whom he had met there on his way to Lagobel, knew\nnothing of the oracle till his return.\n\nWhen he had acquainted himself with all the particulars, he sat down\nand thought,--\n\n\"She will die if I don't do it, and life would be nothing to me without\nher; so I shall lose nothing by doing it.  And life will be as pleasant\nto her as ever, for she will soon forget me.  And there will be so much\nmore beauty and happiness in the world!--To be sure, I shall not see\nit.\"  (Here the poor prince gave a sigh.) \"How lovely the lake will be\nin the moonlight, with that glorious creature sporting in it like a\nwild goddess!--It is rather hard to be drowned by inches, though.  Let\nme see--that will be seventy inches of me to drown.\"  (Here he tried to\nlaugh, but could not.) \"The longer the better, however,\" he resumed:\n\"for can I not bargain that the princess shall be beside me all the\ntime?  So I shall see her once more, kiss her perhaps,--who knows?--and\ndie looking in her eyes.  It will be no death.  At least, I shall not\nfeel it.  And to see the lake filling for the beauty again!--All right!\nI am ready.\"\n\nHe kissed the princess's boot, laid it down, and hurried to the king's\napartment.  But feeling, as he went, that anything sentimental would be\ndisagreeable, he resolved to carry off the whole affair with\nnonchalance.  So he knocked at the door of the king's counting-house,\nwhere it was all but a capital crime to disturb him.\n\nWhen the king heard the knock he started up, and opened the door in a\nrage.  Seeing only the shoeblack, he drew his sword.  This, I am sorry\nto say, was his usual mode of asserting his regality when he thought\nhis dignity was in danger.  But the prince was not in the least alarmed.\n\n\"Please your Majesty, I'm your butler,\" said he.\n\n\"My butler! you lying rascal!  What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean, I will cork your big bottle.\"\n\n\"Is the fellow mad?\" bawled the king, raising the point of his sword.\n\n\"I will put a stopper--plug--what you call it, in your leaky lake,\ngrand monarch,\" said the prince.\n\nThe king was in such a rage that before he could speak he had time to\ncool, and to reflect that it would be great waste to kill the only man\nwho was willing to be useful in the present emergency, seeing that in\nthe end the insolent fellow would be as dead as if he had died by his\nMajesty's own hand.  \"Oh!\" said he at last, putting up his sword with\ndifficulty, it was so long; \"I am obliged to you, you young fool!  Take\na glass of wine?\"\n\n\"No, thank you,\" replied the prince.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the king.  \"Would you like to run and see your\nparents before you make your experiment?\"\n\n\"No, thank you,\" said the prince.\n\n\"Then we will go and look for the hole at once,\" said his Majesty, and\nproceeded to call some attendants.\n\n\"Stop, please your Majesty; I have a condition to make,\" interposed the\nprince.\n\n\"What!\" exclaimed the king, \"a condition! and with me!  How dare you?\"\n\n\"As you please,\" returned the prince, coolly.  \"I wish your Majesty a\ngood morning.\"\n\n\"You wretch!  I will have you put in a sack, and stuck in the hole.\"\n\n\"Very well, your Majesty,\" replied the prince, becoming a little more\nrespectful, lest the wrath of the king should deprive him of the\npleasure of dying for the princess.  \"But what good will that do your\nMajesty?  Please to remember that the oracle says the victim must offer\nhimself.\"\n\n\"Well, you have offered yourself,\" retorted the king.\n\n\"Yes, upon one condition.\"\n\n\"Condition again!\" roared the king, once more drawing his sword.\n\"Begone!  Somebody else will be glad enough to take the honour off your\nshoulders.\"\n\n\"Your Majesty knows it will not be easy to get another to take my\nplace.\"\n\n\"Well, what is your condition?\" growled the king, feeling that the\nprince was right.\n\n\"Only this,\" replied the prince: \"that, as I must on no account die\nbefore I am fairly drowned, and the waiting will be rather wearisome,\nthe princess, your daughter, shall go with me, feed me with her own\nhands, and look at me now and then to comfort me; for you must confess\nit IS rather hard.  As soon as the water is up to my eyes, she may go\nand be happy, and forget her poor shoeblack.\"\n\nHere the prince's voice faltered, and he very nearly grew sentimental,\nin spite of his resolution.\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me before what your condition was?  Such a fuss\nabout nothing!\" exclaimed the king.\n\n\"Do you grant it?\" persisted the prince.  \"Of course I do,\" replied the\nking.\n\n\"Very well.  I am ready.\"\n\n\"Go and have some dinner, then, while I set my people to find the\nplace.\"\n\nThe king ordered out his guards, and gave directions to the officers to\nfind the hole in the lake at once.  So the bed of the lake was marked\nout in divisions and thoroughly examined, and in an hour or so the hole\nwas discovered.  It was in the middle of a stone, near the centre of\nthe lake, in the very pool where the golden plate had been found.  It\nwas a three-cornered hole of no great size.  There was water all round\nthe stone, but very little was flowing through the hole.\n\n\n\n14.  This Is Very Kind of You.\n\nThe prince went to dress for the occasion, for he was resolved to die\nlike a prince.\n\nWhen the princess heard that a man had offered to die for her, she was\nso transported that she jumped off the bed, feeble as she was, and\ndanced about the room for joy.  She did not care who the man was; that\nwas nothing to her.  The hole wanted stopping; and if only a man would\ndo, why, take one.  In an hour or two more everything was ready.  Her\nmaid dressed her in haste, and they carried her to the side of the\nlake.  When she saw it she shrieked, and covered her face with her\nhands.  They bore her across to the stone where they had already placed\na little boat for her.\n\nThe water was not deep enough to float it, but they hoped it would be,\nbefore long.  They laid her on cushions, placed in the boat wines and\nfruits and other nice things, and stretched a canopy over all.\n\nIn a few minutes the prince appeared.  The princess recognized him at\nonce, but did not think it worth while to acknowledge him.\n\n\"Here I am,\" said the prince.  \"Put me in.\"\n\n\"They told me it was a shoeblack,\" said the princess.\n\n\"So I am,\" said the prince.  \"I blacked your little boots three times a\nday, because they were all I could get of you.  Put me in.\"\n\nThe courtiers did not resent his bluntness, except by saying to each\nother that he was taking it out in impudence.\n\nBut how was he to be put in?  The golden plate contained no\ninstructions on this point.  The prince looked at the hole, and saw but\none way.  He put both his legs into it, sitting on the stone, and,\nstooping forward, covered the corner that remained open with his two\nhands.  In this uncomfortable position he resolved to abide his fate,\nand turning to the people, said,--\n\n\"Now you can go.\"\n\nThe king had already gone home to dinner.\n\n\"Now you can go,\" repeated the princess after him, like a parrot.\n\nThe people obeyed her and went.\n\nPresently a little wave flowed over the stone, and wetted one of the\nprince's knees.  But he did not mind it much.  He began to sing, and\nthe song he sang was this:--\n\n  \"As a world that has no well,\n  Darting bright in forest dell;\n  As a world without the gleam\n  Of the downward-going stream;\n  As a world without the glance\n  Of the ocean's fair expanse;\n  As a world where never rain\n  Glittered on the sunny plain;--\n  Such, my heart, thy world would be,\n  If no love did flow in thee.\n\n  As a world without the sound\n  Of the rivulets underground;\n  Or the bubbling of the spring\n  Out of darkness wandering;\n  Or the mighty rush and flowing\n  Of the river's downward going;\n  Or the music-showers that drop\n  On the outspread beech's top;\n  Or the ocean's mighty voice,\n  When his lifted waves rejoice;--\n  Such, my soul, thy world would be,\n  If no love did sing in thee.\n\n  Lady, keep thy world's delight;\n  Keep the waters in thy sight.\n  Love hath made me strong to go,\n  For thy sake, to realms below,\n  Where the water's shine and hum\n  Through the darkness never come;\n  Let, I pray, one thought of me\n  Spring, a little well, in thee;\n  Lest thy loveless soul be found\n  Like a dry and thirsty ground.\"\n\n\n\"Sing again, prince.  It makes it less tedious,\" said the princess.\n\nBut the prince was too much overcome to sing any more, and a long pause\nfollowed.\n\n\"This is very kind of you, prince,\" said the princess at last, quite\ncoolly, as she lay in the boat with her eyes shut.\n\n\"I am sorry I can't return the compliment,\" thought the prince; \"but\nyou are worth dying for, after all.\"\n\nAgain a wavelet, and another, and another flowed over the stone, and\nwetted both the prince's knees; but he did not speak or move.\nTwo--three--four hours passed in this way, the princess apparently\nasleep, and the prince very patient.  But he was much disappointed in\nhis position, for he had none of the consolation he had hoped for.\n\nAt last he could bear it no longer.\n\n\"Princess!\" said he.\n\nBut at the moment up started the princess, crying,--\n\n\"I'm afloat!  I'm afloat!\"\n\nAnd the little boat bumped against the stone.\n\n\"Princess!\" repeated the prince, encouraged by seeing her wide awake\nand looking eagerly at the water.\n\n\"Well?\" said she, without looking round.\n\n\"Your papa promised that you should look at me, and you haven't looked\nat me once.\"\n\n\"Did he?  Then I suppose I must.  But I am so sleepy!\"\n\n\"Sleep then, darling, and don't mind me,\" said the poor prince.\n\n\"Really, you are very good,\" replied the princess.  \"I think I will go\nto sleep again.\"\n\n\"Just give me a glass of wine and a biscuit first,\" said the prince,\nvery humbly.\n\n\"With all my heart,\" said the princess, and gaped as she said it.\n\nShe got the wine and the biscuit, however, and leaning over the side of\nthe boat towards him, was compelled to look at him.\n\n\"Why, prince,\" she said, \"you don't look well!  Are you sure you don't\nmind it?\" \"Not a bit,\" answered he, feeling very faint indeed.  \"Only\nI shall die before it is of any use to you, unless I have something to\neat.\"\n\n\"There, then,\" said she, holding out the wine to him.\n\n\"Ah! you must feed me.  I dare not move my hands.  The water would run\naway directly.\"\n\n\"Good gracious!\" said the princess; and she began at once to feed him\nwith bits of biscuit and sips of wine.\n\nAs she fed him, he contrived to kiss the tips of her fingers now and\nthen.  She did not seem to mind it, one way or the other.  But the\nprince felt better.\n\n\"Now for your own sake, princess,\" said he, \"I cannot let you go to\nsleep.  You must sit and look at me, else I shall not be able to keep\nup.\"\n\n\"Well, I will do anything I can to oblige you,\" answered she, with\ncondescension; and, sitting down, she did look at him, and kept looking\nat him with wonderful steadiness, considering all things.\n\nThe sun went down, and the moon rose, and, gush after gush, the waters\nwere rising up the prince's body.  They were up to his waist now.\n\n\"Why can't we go and have a swim?\" said the princess.  \"There seems to\nbe water enough Just about here.\"\n\n\"I shall never swim more,\" said the prince.\n\n\"Oh, I forgot,\" said the princess, and was silent.\n\nSo the water grew and grew, and rose up and up on the prince.  And the\nprincess sat and looked at him.  She fed him now and then.  The night\nwore on.  The waters rose and rose.  The moon rose likewise higher and\nhigher, and shone full on the face of the dying prince.  The water was\nup to his neck.\n\n\"Will you kiss me, princess?\" said he, feebly.\n\nThe nonchalance was all gone now.\n\n\"Yes, I will,\" answered the princess, and kissed him with a long,\nsweet, cold kiss.\n\n\"Now,\" said he, with a sigh of content, \"I die happy.\"\n\nHe did not speak again.  The princess gave him some wine for the last\ntime: he was past eating.  Then she sat down again, and looked at him.\nThe water rose and rose.  It touched his chin.  It touched his lower\nlip.  It touched between his lips.  He shut them hard to keep it out.\nThe princess began to feel strange.  It touched his upper lip.  He\nbreathed through his nostrils.  The princess looked wild.  It covered\nhis nostrils.  Her eyes looked scared, and shone strange in the\nmoonlight.  His head fell back; the water closed over it, and the\nbubbles of his last breath bubbled up through the water.  The princess\ngave a shriek, and sprang into the lake.\n\nShe laid hold first of one leg, and then of the other, and pulled and\ntugged, but she could not move either.  She stopped to take breath, and\nthat made her think that HE could not get any breath.  She was frantic.\nShe got hold of him, and held his head above the water, which was\npossible now his hands were no longer on the hole.  But it was of no\nuse, for he was past breathing.\n\nLove and water brought back all her strength.  She got under the water,\nand pulled and pulled with her whole might, till at last she got one\nleg out.  The other easily followed.  How she got him into the boat she\nnever could tell; but when she did, she fainted away.  Coming to\nherself, she seized the oars, kept herself steady as best she could,\nand rowed and rowed, though she had never rowed before.  Round rocks,\nand over shallows, and through mud she rowed, till she got to the\nlanding-stairs of the palace.  By this time her people were on the\nshore, for they had heard her shriek.  She made them carry the prince\nto her own room, and lay him in her bed, and light a fire, and send for\nthe doctors.\n\n\"But the lake, your Highness!\" said the chamberlain, who, roused by the\nnoise, came in, in his nightcap.\n\n\"Go and drown yourself in it!\" she said.\n\nThis was the last rudeness of which the princess was ever guilty; and\none must allow that she had good cause to feel provoked with the lord\nchamberlain.\n\nHad it been the king himself, he would have fared no better.  But both\nhe and the queen were fast asleep.  And the chamberlain went back to\nhis bed.  Somehow, the doctors never came.  So the princess and her old\nnurse were left with the prince.  But the old nurse was a wise woman,\nand knew what to do.\n\nThey tried everything for a long time without success.  The princess\nwas nearly distracted between hope and fear, but she tried on and on,\none thing after another, and everything over and over again.\n\nAt last, when they had all but given it up, just as the sun rose, the\nprince opened his eyes.\n\n\n\n15.  Look at the Rain!\n\nThe princess burst into a passion of tears, and fell on the floor.\nThere she lay for an hour, and her tears never ceased.  All the pent-up\ncrying of her life was spent now.  And a rain came on, such as had\nnever been seen in that country.  The sun shone all the time, and the\ngreat drops, which fell straight to the earth, shone likewise.  The\npalace was in the heart of a rainbow.  It was a rain of rubies, and\nsapphires, and emeralds, and topazes.  The torrents poured from the\nmountains like molten gold; and if it had not been for its\nsubterraneous outlet, the lake would have overflowed and inundated the\ncountry.  It was full from shore to shore.\n\nBut the princess did not heed the lake.  She lay on the floor and wept,\nand this rain within doors was far more wonderful than the rain out of\ndoors.\n\nFor when it abated a little, and she proceeded to rise, she found, to\nher astonishment, that she could not.  At length, after many efforts,\nshe succeeded in getting upon her feet.  But she tumbled down again\ndirectly.  Hearing her fall, her old nurse uttered a yell of delight,\nand ran to her, screaming,--\n\n\"My darling child! she's found her gravity!\"\n\n\"Oh, that's it! is it?\" said the princess, rubbing her shoulder and her\nknee alternately.  \"I consider it very unpleasant.  I feel as if I\nshould be crushed to pieces.\"\n\n\"Hurrah!\" cried the prince from the bed.  \"If you've come round,\nprincess, so have I.  How's the lake?\"\n\n\"Brimful,\" answered the nurse.\n\n\"Then we're all happy.\"\n\n\"That we are indeed!\" answered the princess, sobbing.\n\nAnd there was rejoicing all over the country that rainy day.  Even the\nbabies forgot their past troubles, and danced and crowed amazingly.\nAnd the king told stories, and the queen listened to them.  And he\ndivided the money in his box, and she the honey in her pot, among all\nthe children.  And there was such jubilation as was never heard of\nbefore.\n\nOf course the prince and princess were betrothed at once.  But the\nprincess had to learn to walk, before they could be married with any\npropriety.  And this was not so easy at her time of life, for she could\nwalk no more than a baby.  She was always falling down and hurting\nherself.\n\n\"Is this the gravity you used to make so much of?\" said she one day to\nthe prince, as he raised her from the floor.  \"For my part, I was a\ngreat deal more comfortable without it.\"\n\n\"No, no, that's not it.  This is it,\" replied the prince, as he took\nher up, and carried her about like a baby, kissing her all the time.\n\"This is gravity.\"\n\n\"That's better,\" said she.  \"I don't mind that so much.\"\n\nAnd she smiled the sweetest, loveliest smile in the prince's face.  And\nshe gave him one little kiss in return for all his; and he thought them\noverpaid, for he was beside himself with delight.  I fear she\ncomplained of her gravity more than once after this, notwithstanding.\n\nIt was a long time before she got reconciled to walking.  But the pain\nof learning it was quite counterbalanced by two things, either of which\nwould have been sufficient consolation.  The first was, that the prince\nhimself was her teacher; and the second, that she could tumble into the\nlake as often as she pleased.  Still, she preferred to have the prince\njump in with her; and the splash they made before was nothing to the\nsplash they made now.\n\nThe lake never sank again.  In process of time, it wore the roof of the\ncavern quite through, and was twice as deep as before.\n\nThe only revenge the princess took upon her aunt was to tread pretty\nhard on her gouty toe the next time she saw her.  But she was sorry for\nit the very next day, when she heard that the water had undermined her\nhouse, and that it had fallen in the night, burying her in its ruins;\nwhence no one ever ventured to dig up her body.  There she lies to this\nday.\n\nSo the prince and princess lived and were happy; and had crowns of\ngold, and clothes of cloth, and shoes of leather, and children of boys\nand girls, not one of whom was ever known, on the most critical\noccasion, to lose the smallest atom of his or her due proportion of\ngravity.","title":"The Light Princess","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":15058}