{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_78382/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_78382","id":"gutenberg_78382","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78382","summary":null,"tags":["Fairy tales"],"text":"A DOORWAY IN FAIRYLAND\n\n\n\n\nThis selection of fairy-tales is reprinted from the following original\neditions, now out of print:\n\n  _A Farm in Fairyland_       (1894)\n  _The House of Joy_          (1895)\n  _The Field of Clover_       (1898)\n  _The Blue Moon_             (1904)\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  A DOORWAY IN FAIRYLAND\n  BY LAURENCE HOUSMAN\n\n  NEW YORK HARCOURT, BRACE & COMPANY\n\n  ENGRAVED BY\n  CLEMENCE HOUSMAN\n]\n\n\n\n\n  _Made and\n  Printed in Great Britain by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld.,\n  London and Aylesbury._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                        PAGE\n\n  THE BLUE MOON                                           13\n\n  THE WISHING-POT                                         21\n\n  THE WAY OF THE WIND                                     33\n\n  THE BOUND PRINCESS:\n\n    THE FIRE-EATERS                                       53\n\n    THE GALLOPING PLOUGH                                  59\n\n    THE THIRSTY WELL                                      66\n\n    THE PRINCESS MELILOT                                  74\n\n    THE BURNING ROSE                                      82\n\n    THE CAMPHOR-WORM                                      90\n\n  THE RAT-CATCHER\u2019S DAUGHTER                              97\n\n  THE TRAVELLER\u2019S SHOES                                  108\n\n  THE ROOTED LOVER                                       133\n\n  THE WOOING OF THE MAZE                                 147\n\n  THE MOON-FLOWER                                        156\n\n  THE WHITE KING                                         181\n\n  THE PASSIONATE PUPPETS                                 192\n\n  KNOONIE IN THE SLEEPING PALACE                         211\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLUE MOON\n\n\nNillywill and Hands-pansy were the most unimportant and happy pair of\nlovers the world has ever gained or lost. With them it had been a case\nof love at first blindness since the day when they had tumbled into\neach other\u2019s arms in the same cradle. And Hands-pansy, when he first\nsaw her, did not discover that Nillywill was a real princess hiding her\nbirthright in the home of a poor peasant; nor did Nillywill, when she\nfirst saw Hands, see in him the baby-beginnings of the most honest and\ngood heart that ever sprang out of poverty and humble parentage. So\nfrom her end of their little crib she kicked him with her royal rosy\ntoes, and he from his kicked back and laughed: and thus, as you hear,\nat first blindness they fell head over ears in love with one another.\n\nNothing could undo that; for day by day earth and sun and wind came to\nrub it in deeper, and water could not wash it off. So when they had\nbeen seven years together there could be no doubt that they felt as if\nthey had been made for each other in heaven. And then something very\nbig and sad came to pass; for one day Nillywill had to leave off being\na peasant child and become a princess once more. People very grand and\ngrown-up came to the woodside where she flowered so gaily, and caught\nher by the golden hair of her head and pulled her up by her dear little\nroots, and carried her quite away from Hands-pansy to a place she had\nnever been in before. They put her into a large palace, with woods and\nterraces and landscape gardens on all sides of it; and there she sat\ncrying and pale, saying that she wanted to be taken back to Hands-pansy\nand grow up and marry him, though he was but the poor peasant boy he\nhad always been.\n\nThose that had charge of Nillywill in her high station talked wisely,\ntelling her to forget him. \u201cFor,\u201d said they, \u201csuch a thing as a\nprincess marrying a peasant boy can only happen once in a blue moon!\u201d\n\nWhen she heard that, Nillywill began every night to watch the moon\nrise, hoping some evening to see it grow up like a blue flower against\nthe dusk and shake down her wish to her like a bee out of its deep\nbosom.\n\nBut night by night, silver, or ruddy, or primrose, it lit a place for\nitself in the heavens; and years went by, bringing the Princess no\nnearer to her desire to find room for Hands-pansy amid the splendours\nof her throne.\n\nShe knew that he was five thousand miles away and had only wooden\npeasant shoes to walk in; and when she begged that she might once\nmore have sight of him, her whole court, with the greatest utterable\npoliteness, cried \u201cNo!\u201d\n\nThe Princess\u2019s memory sang to her of him in a thousand tunes, like\nwoodland birds carolling; but it was within the cage which men call a\ncrown that her thoughts moved, fluttering to be out of it and free.\n\nSo time went on, and Nillywill had entered gently into sweet\nwomanhood--the comeliest princess that ever dropped a tear; and all\nshe could do for love was to fill her garden with dark-eyes pansies,\nand walk among their humble upturned faces which reminded her so well\nof her dear Hands--Hands who was a long five thousand miles away. \u201cAnd,\noh!\u201d she sighed, watching for the blue moon to rise, \u201cwhen will it come\nand make me at one with all my wish?\u201d\n\nLooking up, she used to wonder what went on there. She and Hands had\nstolen into the woods, when children together, and watched the small\nearth-fairies at play, and had seen them, when the moon was full, lift\nup their arms to it, making, perhaps, signals of greeting to far-off\nmoon-brothers. So she thought to herself, \u201cWhat kind are the fairies\nup there, and who is the greatest moon-fairy of all who makes the blue\nmoon rise and bring goodwill to the sad wishers of the human race? Is\nit,\u201d thought Nillywill, \u201cthe moon-fairy who then opens its heart and\nbrings down healing therefrom to the lovers of earth?\u201d\n\nAnd now, as happens to all those who are captives of a crown, Nillywill\nlearned that she must wed with one of her own rank who was a stranger\nto her save for his name and his renown as the lord of a neighbouring\ncountry; there was no help for her, since she was a princess, but she\nmust wed according to the claims of her station. When she heard of it,\nshe went at nightfall to her pansies, all lying in their beds, and told\nthem of her grief. They, awakened by her tears, lifted up their grave\neyes and looked at her.\n\n\u201cDo you not hear?\u201d said they.\n\n\u201cHear what?\u201d asked the Princess.\n\n\u201cWe are low in the ground: we hear!\u201d said the pansies. \u201cStoop down your\nhead and listen!\u201d\n\nThe Princess let her head go to the ground; and \u201cclick, click,\u201d she\nheard wooden shoes coming along the road. She ran to the gate, and\nthere was Hands, tall and lean, dressed as a poor peasant, with a\nbundle tied up in a blue cotton handkerchief across his shoulder, and\nfive thousand miles trodden to nothing by the faithful tramping of his\nold wooden shoes.\n\n\u201cOh, the blue moon, the blue moon!\u201d cried the Princess; and running\ndown the road, she threw herself into his arms.\n\nHow happy and proud they were of each other! He, because she remembered\nhim and knew him so well by the sight of his face and the sound of his\nfeet after all these years; and she, because he had come all that way\nin a pair of wooden shoes, just as he was, and had not been afraid that\nshe would be ashamed to know him again.\n\n\u201cI am so hungry!\u201d said Hands, when he and Nillywill had done kissing\neach other. And when Nillywill heard that, she brought him into the\npalace through the pansies by her own private way; then with her own\nhands she set food before him, and made him eat. Hands, looking at her,\nsaid, \u201cYou are quite as beautiful as I thought you would be!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you--so are you!\u201d she answered, laughing and clapping her hands.\nAnd \u201cOh, the blue moon,\u201d she cried--\u201csurely the blue moon must rise\nto-night!\u201d\n\nLow down in the west the new moon, leaning on its side, rocked and\nturned softly in its sleep; and there, facing the earth through the\ncleared night, the blue moon hung like a burning grape against the sky.\nLike the heart of a sapphire laid open, the air flushed and purpled to\na deeper shade. The wind drew in its breath close and hushed, till not\na leaf quaked in the boughs; and the sea that lay out west gathered its\nwaves together softly to its heart, and let the heave of its tide fall\nwholly to slumber. Round-eyed, the stars looked at themselves in the\ncharmed water, while in a luminous azure flood the light of the blue\nmoon flowed abroad.\n\nUnder the light of many tapers within drawn curtains of tapestry, and\nfeasting her eyes upon the happiness of Hands, the Princess felt the\nchange that had entranced the outer world. \u201cI feel,\u201d she said, \u201cI do\nnot know how--as if the palace were standing siege. Come out where we\ncan breathe the fresh air!\u201d\n\nThe light of the tapers grew ghostly and dim, as, parting the thick\nhangings of the window, they stepped into the night.\n\n\u201cThe blue moon!\u201d cried Nillywill to her heart; \u201coh, Hands, it is the\nblue moon!\u201d\n\nAll the world seemed carved out of blue stone; trees with stems\ndark-veined as marble rose up to give rest to boughs which drooped the\naltered hues of their foliage like the feathers of peacocks at roost.\nJewel within jewel they burned through every shade from beryl to onyx.\nThe white blossoms of a cherry-tree had become changed into turquoise,\nand the tossing spray of a fountain as it drifted and swung was like a\ncolumn of blue fire. Where a long inlet of sea reached in and touched\nthe feet of the hanging gardens the stars showed like glow-worms,\nemerald in a floor of amethyst.\n\nThere was no motion abroad, nor sound: even the voice of the\nnightingale was stilled, because the passion of his desire had become\nvisible before his eyes.\n\n\u201cOnce in a blue moon!\u201d said Nillywill, waiting for her dream to become\naltogether true. \u201cLet us go now,\u201d she said, \u201cwhere I can put away my\ncrown! To-night has brought you to me, and the blue moon has come for\nus: let us go!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere shall we go?\u201d asked Hands.\n\n\u201cAs far as we can,\u201d cried Nillywill. \u201cSuppose to the blue moon!\nTo-night it seems as if one might tread on water or air. Yonder across\nthe sea, with the stars for stepping-stones, we might get to the blue\nmoon as it sets into the waves.\u201d\n\nBut as they went through the deep alleys of the garden that led down to\nthe shore they came to a sight more wonderful than anything they had\nyet seen.\n\nBefore them, facing toward the sea, stood two great reindeer, their\nhigh horns reaching to the overhead boughs; and behind them lay a\nsledge, long and with deep sides like the sides of a ship. All blue\nthey seemed in that strange light.\n\nThere, too, but nearer to hand, was the moon-fay himself waiting--a\ngreat figure of lofty stature, clad in furs of blue fox-skin, and with\nheron\u2019s wings fastened above the flaps of his hood; and these lifted\nthemselves and clapped as Hands and the Princess drew near.\n\n\u201cAre you coming to the blue moon?\u201d called the fay, and his voice\nwhistled and shrilled to them like the voice of a wind.\n\nHands-pansy gave back answer stoutly: \u201cYes, yes, we are coming!\u201d And\nindeed what better could he say?\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d cried Nillywill, holding back for a moment, \u201cwhat will the blue\nmoon do for us?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnce you are there,\u201d answered the moon-fay, \u201cyou can have your wish\nand your heart\u2019s desire; but only once in a blue moon can you have it.\nAre you coming?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are coming!\u201d cried Nillywill. \u201cOh, let us make haste!\u201d\n\n\u201cTread softly,\u201d whispered the moon-fay, \u201cand stoop well under these\nboughs, for if anything awakes to behold the blue moon, the memory of\nit can never die. On earth only the nightingale of all living things\nhas beheld a blue moon; and the triumph and pain of that memory wakens\nhim ever since to sing all night long. Tread softly, lest others waken\nand learn to cry after us; for we in the blue moon have our sleep\ntroubled by those who cry for a blue moon to return.\u201d He looked towards\nNillywill, and smiled with friendly eyes. \u201cCome!\u201d he said again, and\nall at once they had leapt upon the sledge, and the reindeer were\nrunning fast down towards the sea.\n\nThe blue moon was resting with its lower rim upon the waters. At that\nsight, before they were clear of the avenues of the garden, one of the\nreindeer tossed up his great branching horns and snorted aloud for joy.\nWith a soft stir in the thick boughs overhead, a bird with a great\ntrail of feathers moved upon its perch.\n\nThe sledge, gliding from land, passed out over the smoothed waters,\nrunning swiftly as upon ice; and the reflection of the stars shone\nup like glow-worms as Nillywill and Hands-pansy, in the moon-fay\u2019s\ncompany, sped away along its bright surface.\n\nThe still air whistled through the reindeers\u2019 horns; so fast they went\nthat the trees and the hanging gardens and the palace walls melted away\nfrom view like wreaths of smoke. Sky and sea became one magic sapphire\ndrawing them in towards the centre of its life, to the heart of the\nblue moon itself.\n\nWhen the blue moon had set below the sea, then far behind them upon\nthe land they had left the leaves rustled and drew sharply together,\nshuddering to get rid of the stony stillness, and the magic hues in\nwhich they had been dyed; and again the nightingale broke out into\npassionate triumph and complaint.\n\nThen also, from the bough which the reindeer had brushed with its\nhorns, a peacock threw back its head and cried in harsh lamentation,\nhaving no sweet voice wherewith to acclaim its prize. And so ever since\nit cries, as it goes up into the boughs to roost, because it shares\nwith the nightingale its grief for the memory of departed beauty which\nnever returns to earth save once in a blue moon.\n\nBut Nillywill and Hands-pansy, living together in the blue moon, look\nback upon the world, if now and then they choose to remember, without\nany longing for it or sorrow.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WISHING-POT\n\n\nTulip was the son of a poor but prudent mother; from the moment of his\nbirth she had trained him to count ten before ever he wanted or asked\nfor anything. An otherwise reckless youth, he acquired an intrinsic\nvalue through the practice of this habit. Only once, just as he was\nreaching, but had not quite reached, years of discretion, did his habit\nof precaution fail him; and this same failure became in the end the\nopening of his fortunes.\n\nBathing one day in the river, to whose banks the woods ran down in\nsteep terraces, he heard a voice come singing along one of the upper\nslopes; and looking up under the boughs of cedar and sycamore, he saw a\npair of green feet go dancing by, up and down like grasshoppers on the\nprance.\n\nThere was such rhythm in them, and such sweetness in the voice, that\nhis heart was out of him before he could harness it to the number ten,\nand he came out of the water the most natural and forlorn of lovers.\n\nBefore he was dressed the green feet and the voice were gone, and\nbefore he got home his health and his appetite seemed to have gone\nalso. He pined industriously from day to day, and spent all his hours\nin searching among the woods by the river side for his lady of the dear\ngreen feet. He did not know so much as the size or colour of her face;\nthe sound of her voice alone, and the running up and down of her feet,\nhad, as he told his mother, \u201cdecimated his affections.\u201d\n\nIn his trouble he could think of only one possible remedy, and that\nhe counted well over, knowing its risk. Away in the loneliest part of\nthe forest there lived a wise woman, to whom, now and then, folk went\nfor help when everything else had failed them. So he had heard tell\nof a certain Wishing-Pot that was hers in which people might see the\nthing they desired most, and into which for a fee she allowed lovers\nand other poor fools of fortune to look. One thing, however, was told\nagainst the virtues of this Wishing-Pot, that though many had had a\nsight of it, and their wishes revealed to them therein, others had\ngone and had never again returned to their homes, but had vanished\naltogether from men\u2019s sight, nor had any news ever been heard of them\nafter. There were some wise folk who held that they had only gone\nelsewhere to seek the fortune that the Wishing-Pot had shown to them.\nNevertheless, for the most part, the wise woman and her Wishing-Pot had\nan ill name in that neighbourhood.\n\nTo a lover\u2019s heart risk gives value; so one fine morning Tulip kissed\nhis mother, counted ten, and set out for the woods.\n\nTowards evening he came to the house of the witch and knocked at the\ndoor. \u201cGood mother,\u201d said he, when she opened to him, \u201cI have brought\nyou the fee to buy myself a wish over the Wishing-Pot.\u201d \u201cAy, surely,\u201d\nanswered the crone, and drew him in.\n\nIn one corner of the room stood a great crystal bowl. Nearly round\nit was, and had a small opening at the top, to which a man might\nplace his eye and look in. To Tulip, as he looked at it, it seemed\nall coloured fires and falling stars, and a soft crackling sound came\nfrom it, as though heat burned in its veins. It threw long shapes and\nlustres upon the walls, and within innumerable things writhed, and ran,\nand whiffed in the floating of its vapours.\n\n\u201cYou may have two wishes,\u201d said the old witch, \u201ca one and a two.\u201d And\nshe said the spell that undid the secret of the Pot to the wisher.\n\nThen Tulip bent down his head and looked in, counting softly to\nhimself, and at ten, he let the wish go to his lady of the dear green\nfeet.\n\nThe colours changed and sprang, as though stirred and fed with fresh\nfuel; and down in the depths of the Wishing-Pot he saw the feet of his\nBeloved go by in twinkling green slippers.\n\nAs soon as he saw that he began counting ten in great haste for the\nsecond wish. \u201cO to be inside the Wishing-Pot with her!\u201d was his thought\nnow. He had got to nine, and the wish was almost on his tongue, when\nhe caught sight of the old woman\u2019s eye looking at him. And the eye\nhad become like a large green spider, with great long limbs that kept\nclutching up and out again!\n\nHis heart queegled to a jelly at the sight; but the green feet lured\nhim so, that he still thought how to get to them and yet be safe.\nSurely, to be in the Wishing-Pot and out by the sound of the next\nAngelus became the shape of his wish. He shut his eyes, cried ten upon\nthe venture, and was in the Wishing-Pot!\n\nThe little green feet were trebling over the glass with a sound like\nrunning water; and he himself began running at full speed, shot off\ninto the Wishing-Pot like a pellet from a pop-gun. Nothing could he\nsee of his dear but her wee green feet. But above them as they ran he\nheard showery laughter, and he knew that his lady was there before him,\nthough invisible to the eye.\n\nThe Pot, now he was in it, seemed bigger than the biggest dome in the\nworld; to run all round it took him two or three minutes. Away in the\ncentre of its base stood a great opal knob, like the axle to a wheel\nround which he and the green feet kept circling.\n\nHowever much he wished and wished, the green feet still kept their\ndistance, for now he was _in_ the Wishing-Pot wishes availed him\nnothing. The green feet flew faster than his; the light laugh rang\nfurther and further away; right across to the other side of the hall\nhis lady had passed from him now.\n\nThe magic fires of the crystal leaped and crackled under his tread;\nnow it seemed as if his feet ran on a green lawn, out of which broke\ncrocuses and daffodils, and now roses reddened in the track, and now\nthe purple of grapes spurted across the path like spilled wine. The\nsound of the green feet and the running of overhead laughter, as they\ndistanced him in front, came nearer and nearer behind him from across\nthe hall. He felt that he must follow and not turn, however beaten he\nmight be.\n\nPresently a voice, that he knew was his Beloved\u2019s, cried,--\n\n    \u201cHeart that would have me must hatch me!\n    Feet that would find me must catch me!\n    Man that would mate me must match me!\u201d\n\nOh, how? wondered spent feet, and failing heart, and reeling brain.\nHe stumbled slower and slower in the race, till presently with quick\ninnumerable patterings the green feet grew closer, and were overtaking\nhim from the rear.\n\nWarm breath was in his hair,--lips and a hand; he turned, open armed,\nto snatch the mischievous morsel, but all that he clasped was a gust of\nair; and he saw the green feet scudding out and away on a fresh start\nbefore him.\n\nAgain, with laughter, the voice cried,--\n\n    \u201cLap for lap you must wind me:\n    Equal, before you can find me!\n    You are a lap behind me!\u201d\n\nWhere they raced the surface of the glass sloped slightly to the upward\nrise of its walls; Tulip shifted his ground, and ran where the footing\nwas leveller towards the centre, and the circle began to go smaller. So\nhe began to gain, till the green slippers, seeing how the advantage had\ncome about, shifted also in their turn.\n\nThus they ran on; there were no inner posts to mark the course, only\nthe great opal standing in the centre of all formed the pivot of the\nrace, and round and round it, a great way off, they ran.\n\nAll at once a big thought came into Tulip\u2019s head; he waited not to\ncount ten, but, before Green Slippers knew what he was after, he had\nreached the opal centre, and was circling it. Then quickly all the\nlaughter stopped; the green feet came twinkling sixteen to the dozen,\nso as to get round the post before him and away.\n\nOne lap, he was before her; two laps, he turned again to her coming,\nand found her falling into his arms. She blossomed into sight at his\ntouch: from top to toe she was there! All rosy and alive he had her in\nhis clasp, laughing, crying, clinging, yet struggling to be free. She\nmade a most endless handful, till Tulip had caught her by the hair and\nkissed her between the eyes.\n\nAll round and overhead the magic crystal reared up arches of fire, to\na roof that dropped like rain, while Tulip and his prize sank down\nexhausted on the great hub of opal to rest. As he touched it all the\nsecret wonders of the Wishing-Pot were opened and revealed to his gaze.\n\nCrowds and crowds of faces were what he most saw; everywhere that he\nturned he saw old friends and neighbours who, he thought, had been dead\nand gone, looking sadly, and shaking long sorrowful faces at him. \u201cYou\nhere too, Tulip?\u201d they seemed for ever to be saying. \u201cAlways another,\nand another; and now you here too!\u201d\n\nThere was the dairyman\u2019s wife, who had waited seven years to have a\nchild, holding a little will-o\u2019-the-wisp of a thing in her arms. Now\nand then for a while it would lie still, and then suddenly it would\nleap up and dart away; and she, poor soul, must up and after it, though\nthe chase were ever so long!\n\nThere also was Miller Dick with his broad thumbs, counting over a\nrich pile of gold, which, ever and anon, spun up into the air, and\nwent strewing itself like dead leaves before the wind. Then he too\nmust needs up and after it, till it was all caught again, and added\ntogether, and made right.\n\nThere were small playmates of Tulip\u2019s childhood, each with its\nlittle conceit of treasure: one had a toy, and another a lamb, another\na bird; and all of them hunted and caught the thing they loved, and\nkissed it and again let go. So it went on, over and over again, more\nsad than the sight of a quaker as he twiddles his thumbs.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhenever they were at peace for a moment, they turned their eyes his\nway. \u201cWhat, you here too, Tulip?\u201d was always the thing they seemed to\nbe saying.\n\nWhile Tulip sat looking at them, and thinking of it all, suddenly his\nlady disappeared, and only her green feet darted from his side and\nbegan running round and round in a circle. Then was he just about to\nset off running after them, when he felt himself caught up to the\ncoloured fires of the roof and sent spinning ungovernably through\nspace. Suddenly he was dumped to the ground, and just as his feet were\ngathering themselves up under him he heard the Angelus bell ringing\nfrom the village below the slopes of the wood.\n\nHe was standing again by the side of the Wishing-Pot, and the old woman\nsat cowering, and blinking her spider eye at him, too much astonished\nto speak or move.\n\nTulip looked at her with a pleasant and engaging air. \u201cOh, good mother,\nwhat a treat you have given me!\u201d he said. \u201cHow I wish I had money for\nanother wish! what a pity it was ever to have wished myself back again!\u201d\n\nWhen the old witch heard that she thought still to entrap him, and\nanswered joyfully, \u201cWhy, kind Sir, surely, kind Sir, if you like it you\nshall look again! Take another wish, and never mind about the money.\u201d\nSo she said the spell once more which opened to him the wonders of the\nWishing-Pot.\n\nThen cried Tulip, clapping his hands, \u201cWhat better can I wish than to\nhave you in the Wishing-Pot, in the place of all those poor folk whom\nyou have imprisoned with their wishes!\u201d\n\nHardly was the thing said than done; all the children who had been\nTulip\u2019s playmates, and Miller Dick with his broad thumbs, and the\ndairyman\u2019s wife, were every one of them out, and the old witch woman\nwas nowhere to be seen.\n\nBut Tulip put his eye to the mouth of the Wishing-Pot; and there down\nbelow he saw the old witch, running round and round as hard as she\ncould go, pursued by a herd of green spiders. And there without doubt\nshe remains.\n\nAnd now everybody was happy except Tulip himself; for the children had\nall of them their toys, and the old miller his gold, and as for the\ndairyman\u2019s wife, she found that she had become the mother of a large\nand promising infant. But Tulip had altogether lost his lady of the\ndear green feet, for in thinking of others he had forgotten to think of\nhimself. All the gratitude of the poor people he had saved was nothing\nto him in that great loss which had left him desolate. For his part he\nonly took the Wishing-Pot up under his arm, and went sadly away home.\n\nBut before long the noise of what he had done reached to the king\u2019s\nears; and he sent for Tulip to appear before him and his Court. Tulip\ncame, carrying the Wishing-Pot under his arm, very downcast and sad\nfor love of the lady of the dear green feet.\n\nAt that time all the Court was in half mourning; for the Princess\nRoyal, who was the king\u2019s only child, and the most beautiful and\naccomplished of her sex, had gone perfectly distraught with grief, of\nwhich nothing could cure her. All day long she sat with her eyes shut,\nand tears running down, and folded hands and quiet little feet. And\nall this came, it was said, from a dream which she could not tell or\nexplain to anybody.\n\nThe king had promised that whoever could rouse her from her grief,\nshould have the princess for his wife, and become heir to the throne;\nand when he heard that there was such a thing in the world as a\nWishing-Pot, he thought that something might be done with it.\n\nFrom Tulip he learned, however, that no one knew the spell which opened\nthe resources of the Wishing-Pot save the old witch woman who was shut\nup fast for ever in its inside. So it seemed to the king that the Pot\ncould be of no use for curing the princess.\n\nBut it was so beautiful, with its shooting stars and coloured fires,\nthat, when Tulip brought it, they carried it in to show to her.\n\nAfter three hours the princess was prevailed upon to open her eyes; and\ndirectly they fell upon the great opal bowl, all at once she started to\nher feet and began laughing and dancing and singing.\n\nThese are the words that they heard her sing,--\n\n    \u201cLap for lap I must wind you;\n    Equal, before I can find you;\n    I am a lap behind you!\u201d\n\nTulip, as soon as he heard the sweetness of that voice, and the words,\npushed his way past the king and all his court, to where the princess\nwas. And there over the heads of the crowd he saw his lady of the dear\ngreen feet laughing and opening her white arms to him.\n\nAs she set eyes on his face the dream of the princess came true, and\nall her unhappiness passed from her. So they loved and were married, to\nthe astonishment and edification of the whole court; and lived to be\ngreatly loved and admired by all their grandchildren.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WAY OF THE WIND\n\n\nWhere the world breaks up into islands among the blue waves of an\neastern sea, in a little house by the seashore, lived Katipah, the only\nchild of poor parents. When they died she was left quite alone and\ncould not find a heart in the world to care for her. She was so poor\nthat no man thought of marrying her, and so delicate and small that as\na drudge she was worth nothing to anybody.\n\nOnce a month she would go and stand at the temple gate, and say to the\npeople as they went in to pray, \u201cWill nobody love me?\u201d And the people\nwould turn their heads away quickly and make haste to get past, and\nin their hearts would wonder to themselves: \u201cFoolish little Katipah!\nDoes she think that we can spare time to love anyone so poor and\nunprofitable as she?\u201d\n\nOn the other days Katipah would go down to the beach, where everybody\nwent who had a kite to fly--for all the men in that country flew kites,\nand all the children,--and there she would fly a kite of her own up\ninto the blue air; and watching the wind carrying it farther and\nfarther away, would grow quite happy thinking how a day might come at\nlast when she would really be loved, though her queer little outside\nmade her seem so poor and unprofitable.\n\nKatipah\u2019s kite was green, with blue eyes in its square face; and in\none corner it had a very small pursed-up red mouth holding a spray of\npeach-blossom. She had made it herself; and to her it meant the green\nworld, with the blue sky over it when the spring begins to be sweet;\nand there, tucked away in one corner of it, her own little warm mouth\nwaiting and wishing to be kissed: and out of all that wishing and\nwaiting the blossom of hope was springing, never to be let go.\n\nAll round her were hundreds of others flying their kites, and all had\nsome wish or prayer to Fortune. But Katipah\u2019s wish and prayer were only\nthat she might be loved.\n\nThe silver sandhills lay in loops and chains round the curve of the\nblue bay, and all along them flocks of gaily coloured kites hovered and\nfluttered and sprang. And, as they went up into the clear air, the wind\nsighing in the strings was like the crying of a young child. \u201cWahoo!\nwahoo!\u201d every kite seemed to cradle the wailings of an invisible infant\nas it went mounting aloft, spreading its thin apron to the wind.\n\n\u201cWahoo! wahoo!\u201d sang Katipah\u2019s blue-and-green kite, \u201cshall I ever be\nloved by anybody?\u201d And Katipah, keeping fast hold of the string, would\nwatch where it mounted and looked so small, and think that surely some\nday her kite would bring her the only thing she much cared about.\n\nKatipah\u2019s next-door neighbour had everything that her own lonely heart\nmost wished for: not only had she a husband, but a fine baby as well.\nYet she was such a jealous, cross-grained body that she seemed to get\nno happiness out of the fortune Heaven had sent her. Husband and child\nseemed both to have caught the infection of her bitter temper; all\nday and night beating and brawling went on; there seemed no peace in\nthat house.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBut for all that the woman, whose name was Bimsha, was quite proud of\nbeing a wife and a mother: and in the daytime, when her man was away,\nshe would look over the fence and laugh at Katipah, crying boastfully,\n\u201cDon\u2019t think you will ever have a husband, Katipah: you are too poor\nand unprofitable! Look at me, and be envious!\u201d\n\nThen Katipah would go softly away, and send up her kite by the seashore\ntill she heard a far-off, sweet, babe-like cry as the wind blew through\nthe strings high in air.\n\n\u201cShall I ever be loved by anybody?\u201d thought she, as she jerked at the\ncord; and away the kite flew higher than ever, and the sound of its\ncall grew fainter.\n\nOne morning, in the beginning of the year, Katipah went up on to the\nhill under plum-boughs white with bloom, meaning to gather field-sorrel\nfor her midday meal; and as she stooped with all her hair blowing over\nher face, and her skirts knotting and billowing round her pretty brown\nankles, she felt as if someone had kissed her from behind.\n\n\u201cThat cannot be,\u201d thought Katipah, with her fingers fast upon a stalk\nof field-sorrel; \u201cit is too soon for anything so good to happen.\u201d So\nshe picked the sorrel quietly, and put it into her basket. But now, not\nto be mistaken, arms came round her, and she _was_ kissed.\n\nShe stood up and put her hands into her breast, quite afraid lest her\nlittle heart, which had grown so light, should be caught by a puff of\nwind and blown right away out of her bosom, and over the hill and into\nthe sea, and be drowned.\n\nAnd now her eyes would not let her doubt; there by her side stood a\nhandsome youth, with quick-fluttering, posy-embroidered raiment. His\nlong dark hair was full of white plum-blossoms, as though he had just\npushed his head through the branches above. His hands also were loaded\nwith the same, and they kept sifting out of his long sleeves whenever\nhe moved his arms. Under the hem of his robe Katipah could see that he\nhad heron\u2019s wings bound about his ankles.\n\n\u201cHe must be very good,\u201d thought Katipah, \u201cto be so beautiful! and\nindeed he must be very good to kiss poor me!\u201d\n\n\u201cKatipah,\u201d said the wonderful youth, \u201cthough you do not know me, I know\nyou. It is I who so often helped you to fly your green kite by the\nshore. I have been up there, and have looked into its blue eyes, and\nkissed its little red mouth which held the peach-blossom. It was I who\nmade songs in its strings for your heart to hear. I am the West Wind,\nKatipah--the wind that brings fine weather. \u2018Gamma-gata\u2019 you must call\nme, for it is I who bring back the wings that fly till the winter is\nover. And now I have come down to earth, to fetch you away and make you\nmy wife. Will you come, Katipah?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will come, Gamma-gata!\u201d said Katipah, and she crouched and kissed\nthe heron-wings that bound his feet; then she stood up and let herself\ngo into his arms.\n\n\u201cHave you enough courage?\u201d asked the West Wind.\n\n\u201cI do not know,\u201d answered Katipah, \u201cfor I have never tried.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo come with me,\u201d said the Wind, \u201cyou need to have much courage; if\nyou have not, you must wait till you learn it. But none the less for\nthat shall you be the wife of Gamma-gata, for I am the gate of the wild\ngeese, as my name says, and my heart is foolish with love of you.\u201d\nGamma-gata took her up in his arms, and swung with her this way and\nthat, tossing his way through blossom and leaf; and the sunlight became\nan eddy of gold round her, and wind and laughter seemed to become part\nof her being, so that she was all giddy and dazed and glad when at last\nGamma-gata set her down.\n\n\u201cStand still, my little one!\u201d he cried--\u201cstand still while I put on\nyour bridal veil for you; then your blushes shall look like a rose-bush\nin snow!\u201d So Katipah stood with her feet in the green sorrel, and\nGamma-Gata went up into the plum-tree and shook, till from head to foot\nshe was showered with white blossom.\n\n\u201cHow beautiful you seem to me!\u201d cried Gamma-gata when he returned to\nground.\n\nThen he lifted her once more and set her in the top of a plum-tree, and\ngoing below, cried up to her, \u201cLeap, little Wind-wife, and let me see\nthat you have courage!\u201d\n\nKatipah looked long over the deep space that lay between them, and\ntrembled. Then she fixed her eyes fast upon those of her lover, and\nleapt, for in the laughter of his eyes she had lost all her fear.\n\nHe caught her half-way in air as she fell. \u201cYou are not really brave,\u201d\nsaid he; \u201cif I had shut my eyes you would not have jumped.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you had shut your eyes just then,\u201d cried Katipah, \u201cI would have\ndied for fear.\u201d\n\nHe set her once more in the tree-top, and disappeared from her sight.\n\u201cCome down to me, Katipah!\u201d she heard his voice calling all round her.\n\nClinging fast to the topmost bough, \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\u201d she cried, \u201clet\nme see your eyes, and I will come.\u201d\n\nThen with darkened brow he appeared to her again out of his blasts, and\ntook her in his arms and lifted her down a little sadly till her feet\ntouched safe earth. And he blew away the beautiful veil of blossoms\nwith which he had showered her, while Katipah stood like a shamed child\nand watched it go, shredding itself to pieces in the spring sunshine.\n\nAnd Gamma-gata, kissing her tenderly, said: \u201cGo home, Katipah, and\nlearn to have courage! and when you have learned it I will be faithful\nand will return to you again. Only remember, however long we may be\nparted, and whatever winds blow ill-fortune up to your door, Gamma-gata\nwill watch over you. For in deed and truth you are the wife of the West\nWind now, and truly he loves you, Katipah!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Gamma-gata!\u201d cried Katipah, \u201ctell the other winds, when they come,\nto blow courage into me, and to blow me back to you: and do not let\nthat be long!\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell them,\u201d said Gamma-gata; and suddenly he was gone. Katipah\nsaw a drift of white petals borne over the tree-tops and away to sea,\nand she knew that there went Gamma-gata, the beautiful windy youth who,\nloving her so well, had made her his wife between the showers of the\nplum-blossom and the sunshine, and had promised to return to her as\nsoon as she was fit to receive him.\n\nSo Katipah gathered up her field-sorrel, and went away home and ate\nher solitary midday meal with a mixture of pride and sorrow in her\ntimid little breast. \u201cSome day, when I am grown brave,\u201d she thought,\n\u201cGamma-gata will come back to me; but he will not come yet.\u201d\n\nIn the evening Bimsha looked over the fence and jeered at her. \u201cDo not\nthink, Katipah,\u201d she cried, \u201cthat you will ever get a husband, for all\nyour soft looks! You are too poor and unprofitable.\u201d\n\nKatipah folded her meek little body together like a concertina when it\nshuts, and squatted to earth in great contentment of spirit. \u201cSilly\nBimsha,\u201d said she, \u201cI already have a husband, a fine one! Ever so much\nfiner than yours!\u201d\n\nBimsha turned pale and cold with envy to hear her say that, for she\nfeared that Katipah was too good and simple to tell her an untruth,\neven in mockery. But she put a brave face upon the matter, saying only,\n\u201cI will believe in that fine husband of yours when I see him!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, you will see him,\u201d answered Katipah, \u201cif you look high enough!\nBut he is far away over _your_ head, Bimsha; and you will not hear him\nbeating me at night, for that is not his way!\u201d\n\nAt this soft answer Bimsha went back into her house in a fury, and\nKatipah laughed to herself. Then she sighed, and said, \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\nreturn to me quickly, lest my word shall seem false to Bimsha, who\nhates me!\u201d\n\nEvery day after this Bimsha thrust her face over the fence to say:\n\u201cKatipah, where is this fine husband of yours? He does not seem to come\nhome often.\u201d\n\nKatipah answered slyly: \u201cHe comes home late, when it is dark, and he\ngoes away very early, almost before it is light. It is not necessary\nfor his happiness that he should see _you_.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly there is a change in Katipah,\u201d thought Bimsha: \u201cshe has\nbecome saucy with her tongue.\u201d But her envious heart would not allow\nher to let matters be. Night and morning she cried to Katipah,\n\u201cKatipah, where is your fine husband?\u201d And Katipah laughed at her,\nthinking to herself: \u201cTo begin with, I will not be afraid of anything\nBimsha may say. Let Gamma-gata know that!\u201d\n\nAnd now every day she looked up into the sky to see what wind was\nblowing; but east, or north, or south, it was never the one wind that\nshe looked for.\n\nThe east wind came from the sea, bringing rain, and beat upon Katipah\u2019s\ndoor at night. Then Katipah would rise and open, and standing in the\ndownpour, would cry, \u201cEast wind, east wind, go and tell your brother\nGamma-gata that I am not afraid of you any more than I am of Bimsha!\u201d\n\nOne night the east wind, when she said that, pulled a tile off Bimsha\u2019s\nhouse, and threw it at her; and Katipah ran in and hid behind the\ndoor in a great hurry. After that she had less to say when the east\nwind came and blew under her gable and rattled at her door. \u201cOh,\nGamma-gata,\u201d she sighed, \u201cif I might only set eyes on you, I would fear\nnothing at all!\u201d\n\nWhen the weather grew fine again Katipah returned to the shore and\nflew her kite as she had always done before the love of Gamma-gata had\nentered her heart. Now and then, as she did so, the wind would change\nsoftly, and begin blowing from the west. Then little Katipah would pull\nlovingly at the string, and cry, \u201cOh, Gamma-gata, have you got fast\nhold of it up there?\u201d\n\nOne day after dusk, when she, the last of all the flyers, hauled down\nher kite to earth, there she found a heron\u2019s feather fastened among the\nstrings. Katipah knew who had sent that, and kissed it a thousand times\nover; nor did she mind for many days afterwards what Bimsha might say,\nbecause the heron\u2019s feather lay so close to her heart, warming it with\nthe hope of Gamma-gata\u2019s return.\n\nBut as weeks and months passed on, and Bimsha still did not fail to say\neach morning, \u201cKatipah, where is your fine husband to-day?\u201d the timid\nheart grew faint with waiting. \u201cAlas!\u201d thought Katipah, \u201cif Heaven\nwould only send me a child, I would show it to her; she would believe\nme easily then! However tiny, it would be big enough to convince her.\nGamma-gata, it is a very little thing that I ask!\u201d\n\nAnd now every day and all day long she sent up her kite from the\nseashore, praying that a child might be born to her and convince\nBimsha of the truth. Everyone said: \u201cKatipah is mad about kite-flying!\nSee how early she goes and how late she stays: hardly any weather keeps\nher indoors.\u201d\n\nOne day the west wind came full-breathed over land and sea, and Katipah\nwas among the first on the beach to send up her messenger with word\nto Gamma-gata of the thing for which she prayed. \u201cGamma-gata,\u201d she\nsighed, \u201cthe voice of Bimsha afflicts me daily; my heart is bruised by\nthe mockery she casts at me. Did I not love thee under the plum-tree,\nGamma-gata? Ask of Heaven, therefore, that a child may be born to\nme--ever so small let it be--and Bimsha will become dumb. Gamma-gata,\nit is a very little thing that I am asking!\u201d\n\nAll day long she let her kite go farther up into the sky than all the\nother kites. Overhead the wind sang in their strings like bees, or like\nthe thin cry of very small children; but Katipah\u2019s was so far away she\ncould scarcely see it against the blue. \u201cGamma-gata,\u201d she cried; till\nthe twilight drew sea and land together, and she was left alone.\n\nThen she called down her kite sadly; hand over hand she drew it by\nthe cord, till she saw it fluttering over her head like a great moth\nsearching for a flower in the gloom. \u201cWahoo! wahoo!\u201d she could hear the\nwind crying through its strings like the wailing of a very small child.\n\nIt had become so dark that Katipah hardly knew what the kite had\nbrought her till she touched the tiny warm limbs that lay cradled\namong the strings that netted the frame to its cord. Full of wonder\nand delight, she lifted the windling out of its nest, and laid it in\nher bosom. Then she slung her kite across her shoulder, and ran home,\nlaughing and crying for joy and triumph to think that all Bimsha\u2019s\nmockery must now be at an end.\n\nSo, quite early the next morning, Katipah sat herself down very\ndemurely in the doorway, with her child hidden in the folds of her\ngown, and waited for Bimsha\u2019s evil eye to look out upon her happiness.\n\nShe had not long to wait. Bimsha came out of her door, and looking\nacross to Katipah, cried, \u201cWell, Katipah, and where is your fine\nhusband to-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy husband is gone out,\u201d said Katipah, \u201cbut if you care to look you\ncan see my baby. It is ever so much more beautiful than yours.\u201d\n\nBimsha, when she heard that, turned green and yellow with envy; and\nthere, plain to see, was Katipah holding up to view the most beautiful\nbabe that ever gave the sunlight a good excuse for visiting this wicked\nearth. The mere sight of so much innocent beauty and happiness gave\nBimsha a shock from which it took her three weeks to recover. After\nthat she would sit at her window and for pure envy keep watch to see\nKatipah and the child playing together--the child which was so much\nmore beautiful and well-behaved than her own.\n\nAs for Katipah, she was so happy now that the sorrow of waiting for\nher husband\u2019s return grew small. Day by day the west wind blew softly,\nand she knew that Gamma-gata was there, keeping watch over her and her\nchild.\n\nEvery day she would say to the little one, \u201cCome, my plum-petal, my\nwind-flower, I will send thee up to thy father that he may see how fat\nthou art getting, and be proud of thee!\u201d And going down to the shore,\nshe would lay the child among the strings of her kite and send it up\nto where Gamma-gata blew a wide breath over sea and land. As it went\nshe would hear the child crow with joy at being so uplifted from earth,\nand laughing to herself, she would think, \u201cWhen he sees his child so\npatterned after his own heart, Gamma-gata will be too proud to remain\nlong away from me.\u201d\n\nWhen she drew the child back to her out of the sky, she covered it with\ncaresses, crying, \u201cOh, my wind-blown one, my cloudlet, my sky-blossom,\nmy little piece out of heaven, hast thou seen thy father, and has he\ntold thee that he loves me?\u201d And the child would crow with mysterious\ndelight, being too young to tell anything it knew in words.\n\nBimsha, out of her window, watched and saw all this, not comprehending\nit: and in her evil heart a wish grew up that she might by some means\nput an end to all Katipah\u2019s happiness. So one day towards evening, when\nKatipah, alone upon the shore, had let her kite and her little one go\nup to the fleecy edges of a cloud through which the golden sunlight was\nstreaming, Bimsha came softly behind and with a sharp knife cut the\nstring by which alone the kite was held from falling.\n\n\u201cOh, silly Bimsha!\u201d cried Katipah, \u201cwhat have you done that for?\u201d\n\nUp in air the kite made a far plunge forward, fluttered and stumbled\nin its course, and came shooting headlong to earth. \u201cOh dear!\u201d cried\nKatipah, \u201cif my beautiful little kite gets torn, Bimsha, that will be\nyour fault!\u201d\n\nWhen the kite fell, it lay unhurt on one of the soft sandhills that\nringed the bay; but no sign of the child was to be seen. Katipah was\nlaughing when she picked up her kite and ran home. And Bimsha thought,\n\u201cIs it witchcraft, or did the child fall into the sea?\u201d\n\nIn the night the West Wind came and tapped at Katipah\u2019s window; and\nrising from her bed, she heard Gamma-gata\u2019s voice calling tenderly to\nher. When she opened the window to the blindness of the black night, he\nkissed her, and putting the little one in her arms, said, \u201cWait only a\nlittle while longer, Katipah, and I will come again to you. Already you\nare learning to be brave.\u201d\n\nIn the morning Bimsha looked out, and there sat Katipah in her own\ndoorway, with the child safe and sound in her arms. And, plain to see,\nhe had on a beautiful golden coat and little silver wings were fastened\nto his feet, and his head was garnished with a wreath of flowers the\nlike of which were never seen on earth. He was like a child of noble\nbirth and fortune, and the small motherly face of Katipah shone with\npride and happiness as she nursed him.\n\n\u201cWhere did you steal those things?\u201d asked Bimsha, \u201cand how did that\nchild come back? I thought he had fallen into the sea and been drowned.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d answered Katipah slyly, \u201che was up in the clouds when the kite\nleft him, and he came down with the rain last night. It is nothing\nwonderful. You were foolish, Bimsha, if you thought that to fall into\nthe clouds would do the child any harm. Up there you can have no idea\nhow beautiful it is--such fields of gold, such wonderful gardens, such\nflowers and fruits: it is from there that all the beauty and wealth of\nthe world must come. See all that he has brought with him! and it is\nall your doing, because you cut the cord of my kite. Oh, clever Bimsha!\u201d\n\nAs soon as Bimsha heard that, she ran and got a big kite, and fastening\nher own child into the strings, started it to fly. \u201cDo not think,\u201d\ncried the envious woman, \u201cthat you are the only one whose child is to\nbe clothed in gold! My child is as good as yours any day; wait, and you\nshall see!\u201d\n\nSo presently, when the kite was well up into the clouds, as Katipah\u2019s\nkite had been, she cut the cord, thinking surely that the same fortune\nwould be for her as had been for Katipah. But instead of that, all at\nonce the kite fell headlong to earth, child and all; and when she ran\nto pick him up, Bimsha found that her son\u2019s life had fallen forfeit to\nher own enviousness and folly.\n\nThe wicked woman went green and purple with jealousy and rage; and\nrunning to the chief magistrate, she told him that while she was flying\na kite with her child fastened to its back, Katipah had come and cut\nthe string, so that by her doing the child was now dead.\n\nWhen the magistrate heard that, he sent and caused Katipah to be thrown\ninto prison, and told her that the next day she should certainly be put\nto death.\n\nKatipah went meekly, carrying her little son in one hand and her\nblue-and-green kite in the other, for that had become so dear to her\nshe could not now part from it. And all the way to prison Bimsha\nfollowed, mocking her, and asking, \u201cTell us, Katipah, where is your\nfine husband now?\u201d\n\nIn the night the West Wind came and tapped at the prison window, and\ncalled tenderly, \u201cKatipah, Katipah, are you there?\u201d And when Katipah\ngot up from her bed of straw and looked out, there was Gamma-gata once\nmore, the beautiful youth whom she loved and had been wedded to, and\nhad heard but had not seen since.\n\nGamma-gata reached his hands through the bars and put them round her\nface. \u201cKatipah,\u201d he said, \u201cyou have become brave: you are fit now to\nbecome the wife of the West Wind. To-morrow you shall travel with me\nall over the world; you shall not stay in one land any more. Now give\nme our son; for a little while I must take him from you. To prove your\ncourage you must find your own way out of this trouble which you have\ngot into through making a fool of Bimsha.\u201d So Katipah gave him the\nchild through the bars of her prison window, and when he was gone lay\ndown and slept till it became light.\n\nIn the morning the chief magistrate and Bimsha, together with the whole\npopulace, came to Katipah\u2019s cell to see her led out to death. And when\nit was found that her child had disappeared, \u201cShe is a witch!\u201d they\ncried; \u201cshe has eaten it!\u201d And the chief magistrate said that, being a\nwitch, instead of hanging she was to be burned.\n\n\u201cI have not eaten my child, and I am no witch,\u201d said Katipah, as,\ntaking with her her blue-and-green kite she trotted out to the place\nof execution. When she was come to the appointed spot she said to\nthe chief magistrate, \u201cTo every criminal it is permitted to plead in\ndefence of himself; but because I am innocent, am I not also allowed to\nplead?\u201d The magistrate told her she might speak if she had anything to\nsay.\n\n\u201cAll I ask,\u201d said Katipah, \u201cis that I may be allowed once more to fly\nmy blue-and-green kite as I used to do in the days when I was happy;\nand I will show you soon that I am not guilty of what is laid to my\ncharge. It is a very little thing that I ask.\u201d\n\nSo the magistrate gave her leave; and there before all the people\nshe sent up her kite till it flew high over the roofs of the town.\nGently the West Wind took it and blew it away towards the sea. \u201cOh,\nGamma-gata,\u201d she whispered softly, \u201chear me now, for I am not afraid.\u201d\n\nThe wind blew hard upon the kite, and pulled as though to catch it\naway, so Katipah twisted the cord once or twice round her waist that\nshe might keep the safer hold over it. Then she said to the chief\nmagistrate and to all the people that were assembled: \u201cI am innocent of\nall that is charged against me; for, first, it was that wicked Bimsha\nherself who killed her own child.\u201d\n\n\u201cProve it!\u201d cried the magistrate.\n\n\u201cI cannot,\u201d replied Katipah.\n\n\u201cThen you must die!\u201d said the magistrate.\n\n\u201cIn the second place,\u201d went on Katipah, \u201cI did not eat my own child.\u201d\n\n\u201cProve it!\u201d cried the chief magistrate again.\n\n\u201cI will,\u201d said Katipah; \u201cO Gamma-gata, it is a very little thing that I\nask.\u201d\n\nDown the string of the kite, first a mere speck against the sky, then\nlarger till plain for all to see came the missing one, slithering and\nsliding, with his golden coat, and the little silver wings tied to his\nankles, and handfuls of flowers which he threw into his mother\u2019s face\nas he came. \u201cOh! cruel chief magistrate,\u201d cried Katipah, receiving the\nbabe in her arms, \u201cdoes it seem that I have eaten him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a witch!\u201d said the chief magistrate, \u201cor how do you come to\nhave a child that disappears and comes again from nowhere! It is not\npossible to permit such things to be: you and your child shall both be\nburned together!\u201d\n\nKatipah drew softly upon the kite-string. \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\u201d she cried,\n\u201clift me up now very high, and I will not be afraid!\u201d\n\nThen suddenly, before all eyes, Katipah was lifted up by the cord of\nthe kite which she had wound about her waist; right up from the earth\nshe was lifted till her feet rested above the heads of the people.\n\nKatipah, with her babe in her arms, swung softly through the air, out\nof reach of the hands stretched up to catch her, and addressed the\npopulace in these words:\n\n\u201cOh, cruel people, who will not believe innocence when it speaks, you\nmust believe me now! I am the wife of the West Wind--of Gamma-gata, the\nbeautiful, the bearer of fine weather, who also brings back the wings\nthat fly till the winter is over. Is it well, do you think, to be at\nwar with the West Wind?\n\n\u201cAh, foolish ones, I go now, for Gamma-gata calls me, and I am no\nlonger afraid: I go to travel in many lands, whither he carries me,\nand it will be long before I return here. Many dark days are coming to\nyou, when you shall not feel the west wind, the bearer of fine weather,\nblowing over you from land to sea; nor shall you see the blossoms\nopen white over the hills, nor feel the earth grow warm as the summer\ncomes in, because the bringer of fair weather is angry with you for\nthe foolishness which you have done. But when at last the west wind\nreturns to you, remember that Katipah the poor and unprofitable one, is\nGamma-gata\u2019s wife, and that she has remembered, and has prayed for you.\u201d\n\nAnd so saying, Katipah threw open her arms and let go the cord of the\nkite which held her safe. \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\u201d she cried, \u201cI do not see\nyour eyes, but I am not afraid!\u201d And at that, even while she seemed\nupon the point of falling to destruction, there flashed into sight\na fair youth with dark hair and garments full of a storm of flying\npetals, who, catching up Katipah and her child in his arms, laughed\nscorn upon those below, and roaring over the roofs of the town,\nvanished away seawards.\n\nWhen a chief magistrate and his people, after flagrant wrong-doing,\nbecome thoroughly cowed and frightened, they are apt also to be cruel.\nPoor Bimsha!\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOUND PRINCESS\n\n\nI\n\nTHE FIRE-EATERS\n\nA long time ago there lived a man who had the biggest head in the\nworld. Into it he had crammed all the knowledge that might be gathered\nfrom the four corners of the earth. Everyone said he was the wisest man\nliving. \u201cIf I could only find a wife,\u201d said the sage, \u201cas wise for a\nwoman as I am for a man, what a race of headpieces we could bring into\nthe world!\u201d\n\nHe waited many years before any such mate could be found for him: yet,\nat last, found she was--one into whose head was bestowed all the wisdom\nthat might be gathered from the four quarters of heaven.\n\nThey were both old, but kings came from all sides to their wedding, and\noffered themselves as god-parents to the first-born of the new race\nthat was to be. But, to the grief of his parents, the child, when he\narrived, proved to be a simpleton; and no second child ever came to\nrepair the mistake of the first.\n\nThat he was a simpleton was evident; his head was small and his\nlimbs were large, and he could run long before he could talk or do\narithmetic. In the bitterness of their hearts his father and mother\nnamed him Noodle, without the aid of any royal god-parents; and from\nthat moment, for any care they took in his bringing-up, they washed\ntheir wise hands of him.\n\nNoodle grew and prospered, and enjoyed life in his own foolish way.\nWhen his father and mother died within a short time of each other, they\nleft him alone without any friend in the world.\n\nFor a good while Noodle lived on just what he could find in the house,\nin a hand-to-mouth sort of way, till at last only the furniture and the\nfour bare walls were left to him.\n\nOne cold winter\u2019s night he sat brooding over the fire, wondering where\nhe should get food for the morrow, when he heard feet coming up to the\ndoor, and a knock striking low down upon the panel. Outside there was a\nfaint chirping and crackling sound, and a whispering as of fire licking\nagainst the woodwork without.\n\nHe opened the door and peered forth into the night. There, just before\nhim, stood seven little men huddled up together; three feet high they\nwere, with bright yellow faces all shrivelled and sharp, and eyes whose\nlight leaped and sank like candle flame before a gust.\n\nWhen they saw him, they shut their eyes and opened famished mouths\nat him, pointing inwards with flickering finger-tips, and shivering\nfrom head to foot with cold, although it seemed to the youth as if the\nwarmth of a slow fire came from them. \u201cAlas!\u201d said Noodle, in reply\nto these signs of hunger, \u201cI have not left even a crust of bread in\nthe house to give you! But at least come in and make yourselves warm!\u201d\nHe touched the foremost, making signs for them all to enter. \u201cAh,\u201d he\ncried, \u201cwhat is this, and what are you, that the mere touch of you\nburns my finger?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWithout answer they huddled tremblingly across the threshold; but\nso soon as they saw the fire burning on the hearth, they yelped all\ntogether like a pack of hounds, and, throwing themselves face forwards\ninto the hot embers, began ravenously to lap up the flames. They lapped\nand lapped, and the more they lapped the more the fire sank away and\ndied. Then with their flickering finger-tips they stirred the hot logs\nand coals, burrowing after the thin tapes and swirls of vanishing\nflame, and fetching them out like small blue eels still wriggling for\nescape.\n\nAfter each blue wisp had been gulped down, they sipped and sucked at\ntheir fingers for any least tricklet of flavour that might be left; and\nat the last seemed more famished than when they began.\n\n\u201cMore, more, O wise Noodle, give us more!\u201d they cried; and Noodle threw\nthe last of his fuel on the embers.\n\nThey breathed round it, fanning it into a great blaze that leaped and\ndanced up to the rafters; then they fell on, till not a fleck or a\nflake of it was left. Noodle, seeing them still famished, broke up a\nstool and threw that on the hearth. And again they flared it with their\nbreath and gobbled off the flame. When the stool was finished he threw\nin the table, then the dresser, and after that the oak-chest and the\nwindow-seat.\n\nStill they feasted and were not fed. Noodle fetched an axe, and broke\ndown the door; then he wrenched up the boards from the floor, and\npulled the beams and rafters out of the ceiling; yet, even so, his\nguests were not to be satisfied.\n\n\u201cI have nothing left,\u201d he said, \u201cbut the house itself; but since you\nare still hungry you shall be welcome to it!\u201d\n\nHe scattered the fire that remained upon the hearth, and threw it out\nand about the room; and as he ran forth to escape, up against all the\nwalls and right through the roof rose a great crackling sheaf of flame.\nIn the midst of the fire, Noodle could see his seven guests lying along\non their bellies, slopping their hands in the heat, and lapping up the\nflames with their tongues. \u201cSurely,\u201d he thought, \u201cI have given them\nenough to eat at last!\u201d\n\nAfter a while all the fire was eaten away, and only the black and\nsmouldering ruins were left. Day came coldly to light, and there sat\nNoodle, without a home in the world, watching with considerate eye his\nseven guests finishing their inordinate repast.\n\nThey all rose to their feet together, and came towards him bowing; as\nthey approached he felt the heat of their bodies as it had been seven\nfurnaces.\n\n\u201cEnough, O wise Noodle!\u201d said they, \u201cwe have had enough!\u201d \u201cThat,\u201d\nanswered Noodle, \u201cis the least thing left me to wonder at. Go your ways\nin peace; but first tell me, who are you?\u201d They replied, \u201cWe are the\nFire-eaters: far from our own land, and strangers, you have done us\nthis service; what, now, can we do to serve you?\u201d \u201cPut me in the way\nof a living,\u201d said Noodle, \u201cand you will do me the greatest service of\nall.\u201d\n\nThen the one of them who seemed to be chief took from his finger a ring\nhaving for its centre a great firestone, and threw it into the snow,\nsaying, \u201cWait for three hours till the ring shall have had time to\ncool, then take it, and wear it; and whatever fortune you deserve it\nshall bring you. For this ring is the sweetener of everything that it\ntouches: bread it turns into rich meats, water into strong wine, grief\ninto virtue, and labour into strength. Also, if you ever need our help,\nyou have but to brandish the ring, and the gleam of it will reach us,\nand we will be with you wherever you may be.\u201d\n\nWith that they bowed their top-knots to the ground and departed,\ninverting themselves swiftly till only the shining print of seven pairs\nof feet remained, red-hot, over the place where they had been standing.\n\nNoodle waited for three hours; then he took up the firestone ring, and\nputting it on his finger set out into the world.\n\nAt the first door he came to, he begged a crust of bread, and touching\nit with the ring found it tasted like rich meats, well cooked and\ndelicately flavoured. Also, the water which he drew in the hollow of\nhis hand from a brook by the roadside tasted to him like strong wine.\n\n\nII\n\nTHE GALLOPING PLOUGH\n\nNoodle went on many miles till he came near to a rich man\u2019s farm.\nThough it was the middle of winter, all the fields showed crops of corn\nin progress; here it was in thin blade, and here green, but in full\near; and here it was ripe and ready for harvest. \u201cHow is this,\u201d he\nsaid to the first man he met, \u201cthat you have corn here in the middle\nof winter?\u201d \u201cAh!\u201d said the man, \u201cyou have not heard of the Galloping\nPlough; you too have to fall under bondage to my master.\u201d \u201cWhat is your\nmaster?\u201d inquired Noodle, \u201cand in what bondage does he bind men?\u201d \u201cMy\nmaster, and your master that shall soon be,\u201d answered the old man, \u201cis\nthe owner of all this land and the farmer of it. He is rich and sleek\nand fat like his own furrows, for he has the Galloping Plough as his\npossession. Ah, that! \u2019tis a very miracle, a wonder, a thing to catch\nat the heartstrings of all beholders; it shines like a moonbeam, and is\nbetter than an Arab mare for swiftness; it warms the very ground that\nit enters, so that seeds take root and spring, though it be the middle\nof winter. No man sees it but what he loses his heart to it, and sells\nhis freedom for the possession of it. All here are men like myself who\nhave become slaves because of that desire. You also, when you see it,\nwill become slave to it.\u201d\n\nNoodle went on through the summer and the spring corn, till he came\nto bare fields. Ahead of him on a hill-top he saw the farmer himself,\nsleek and rosy, and of full paunch, lolling like a lord at his ease;\nyet with a working eye in the midst of his leisure.\n\nTo and fro, up to him and back, shot a silver gleam over the purple\nbrown of the fields; and Noodle\u2019s heart gave a thump at the sight, for\nthe spell of the Galloping Plough was on him.\n\nNow and then he heard a clear sound that startled him with its note.\nIt was like the sweet whistling cry of a bird many times multiplied.\nEver when the silver gleam of the Plough had run its farthest from the\nfarmer, the cry sounded; and at the sound the gleam wavered and stayed\nand flew back dartingly to the farmer\u2019s side. So Noodle understood how\nthis was the farmer\u2019s signal for the Plough to return; and the Plough\nknew it as a horse its master\u2019s voice, and came so fast that the wind\nwhistled against its silver side.\n\nAs he watched, Noodle\u2019s heart went down into the valley and up the\nhillside, following in the track of the Galloping Plough. \u201cI can never\nbe happy again,\u201d thought he; \u201ceither I must possess it, or must die.\u201d\n\nHe came to the farmer where he sat calling his Plough to him and\nletting it go; and the farmer smiled, the wide indulgent smile of a man\nwho knows that a bargain is about to fall his way.\n\n\u201cWhat is the price,\u201d asked Noodle, \u201cof yonder Galloping Plough, that\nruns like an Arab mare, and returns to you at your call?\u201d\n\nSaid the farmer, \u201cA year\u2019s service; and if the Plough will follow you,\nit is yours; if not, then you must be my bondman until you die!\u201d\n\nNoodle looked once the way of the Galloping Plough, and his heart\nflapped at his side like a sail which the wind drops and lets go; and\nhe had no thought or will left in him but to be where the Galloping\nPlough was. So he closed hands on the bargain, to be the farmer\u2019s\nservant either for a year, or for his whole life.\n\nFor a year he worked upon the farm, and all the while plotted how he\nmight win the Galloping Plough to himself. The farmer kept no watch\nupon it, nor put it under lock and key, for the Plough recognised no\nvoice but his own, nor went nor came save at his bidding. In the night\nNoodle would go down to the shed or field where it lay, and whistle to\nit, trying to put forth notes of the same magical power as those which\ncame through the farmer\u2019s lips.\n\nBut no sound that came from his lips ever stroked life into its silver\nsides. The year was nearly run out, and Noodle was in despair.\n\nThen he remembered the firestone ring, the Sweetener. \u201cMaybe,\u201d said\nhe, \u201csince it changes to sweetness whatever I eat and drink, it will\nsweeten my voice also, so that the Plough will obey.\u201d So he put the\nring between his lips and whistled; and at the sound his heart turned\na somersault for joy, for he felt that out of his mouth the farmer\u2019s\nmagic had been over-topped and conquered.\n\nThe Galloping Plough stirred faintly from the furrow where it lay,\nbreaking the ground and marring its smooth course. Then it shook its\nhead slowly, and returned impassively to rest.\n\nIn the morning the farmer came and saw the broken earth close under\nthe Plough\u2019s nose. Noodle, hiding among the corn hard by, heard him\nsay, \u201cWhat hast thou heard in the night, O my moonbeam, my miracle,\nthat thy lily-foot has trodden up the ground? Hast thou forgotten whose\nhand feeds thee, whose corn it is thou lovest, whose heart\u2019s care also\ncherishes thee?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe farmer went away, and presently came back bearing a bowl of corn;\nand Noodle saw the Plough lift its head to its master\u2019s palm, and feed\nlike a horse on the grain.\n\nThen Noodle, gay of heart, waited till it was night, and surely his\ntime was short, for on the morrow his wages were to be paid, and the\nPlough was to be his, or else he was to be the farmer\u2019s bond-servant\nfor the rest of his life. He took with him three handfuls of corn, and\nwent down to where the Plough stood waiting by the furrow. Shaping his\nlips to the ring, he whistled gently like a lover, and immediately the\nPlough stirred, and lifted up its head as if to look at him.\n\n\u201cO my moonbeam, my miracle,\u201d whispered Noodle, \u201cwilt thou not come to\nthe one that feeds thee?\u201d and he held out a handful of corn. But the\nPlough gave no regard to him or his grain: slowly it moved away from\nhim back into the furrow.\n\nThen Noodle laughed softly and dropped his ring, the Sweetener, into\nthe hand that held the grain; and barely had he offered the corn before\nhe felt the silver Plough nozzling at his palm, and eating as a horse\neats from the hand of its master.\n\nThen he whistled again, placing the Sweetener back between his lips;\nand the Galloping Plough sprang after him, and followed at his heels\nlike a dog.\n\nSo, finding himself its master, he bid it stay for the night; and in\nthe morning he said to the farmer, \u201cGive me my wages, and let me go!\u201d\nAnd the farmer laughed, saying, \u201cTake your wages, and go!\u201d\n\nThen Noodle took off his ring, the Sweetener, and laid it between his\nlips and blew through it; and up like a moonbeam, and like an Arab\nmare, sprang the Galloping Plough at his call. So he leaped upon its\nback, crying, \u201cCarry me away out of this land, O thou moonbeam, and\nmiracle of beauty, and never slacken nor stay except I bid thee!\u201d\n\nVainly the farmer, borne down on a torrent of rage and amazement,\nwhistled his best, and threw corn and rice from the rear; for the\nwhistling of Noodle was sweeter to the ear, and his corn sweeter to the\ntaste, and he nearer to the heart of the Galloping Plough than was the\nold master whom it left behind.\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE THIRSTY WELL\n\nSo they escaped, slitting the swift hours with ungovernable speed. The\nfurrow they two made in the world that day, as they went shooting over\nthe round of it, was called in after times the Equator, and men still\nknow it by the heat of it, though it has since been covered over by the\ndust of ages.\n\nTo Noodle, as he went careering round it, the whole world\u2019s circuit ran\nin a line across his brain, entering his vision and passing through it\nas a thread through the needle\u2019s eye. Nor would he of his own will\never have stopped his galloping, but that at the completion of the\nfirst round a mighty thirst took hold of him. \u201cO my moonbeam,\u201d he said,\nchoking behind parched lips, and sick at heart, \u201ccheck me, or I faint!\u201d\nAnd the Galloping Plough stopped at once, and set him to earth in a\ngreen space under the shadow of overhanging boughs.\n\nHe found himself in a richly grown garden, a cool paradise for a\ntraveller to rest in. Close at hand and inviting to the eye was a well\nwith a bucket slung ready to be let down. Noodle had little thought of\nseeking for the owner of the garden to beg for a drink, since water is\nan equal gift to all and the right of any man; but as he drew near he\nfound the means to it withheld from him, the lid being fast locked. He\nwent on in search of the owner, till at length he came upon the same\nlying half asleep under a thorn-bush with the key in her hand. She was\nan old woman, so withered and dry, she looked as if no water could have\never passed her lips.\n\nWhen Noodle asked for a drink from the well, she looked at him bright\nand sharp, and said: \u201cBefore any man drinks of my water he must make a\nbargain with me.\u201d \u201cWhat is the bargain?\u201d asked Noodle; and she led him\ndown to the well.\n\nThen she unlocked the lid and bade him look in; and at the sight Noodle\nknew for a second time that his heart had been stolen from him, and\nthat to be happy he must taste that water or die.\n\nAgain he asked, with his eyes intent upon the blue wrimpling of the\nwater in the well\u2019s depth, \u201cWhat is the bargain?\u201d And the old woman\nanswered, \u201cIf you fail to draw water out of the well you must fling\nyourself into it.\u201d For answer Noodle swung down the bucket, lowering\nit as fast as it would go; then he set both hands to the windlass and\nwound.\n\nHe heard the water splashing off the sides of the bucket all the way\nup, as the shortening rope brought it near; but when he drew it over\nthe well\u2019s brink wonder and grief held him fast, for the bucket was as\nempty as vanity. From behind him came a noise of laughter, and there\nwas the old witch running round and round in a circle; and everywhere a\nhedge of thorns came shooting up to enclose him and keep him fast for\nher.\n\n\u201cWhat a trap I am in!\u201d thought Noodle; but once more he lowered the\nbucket, and once more it returned to him empty.\n\nThe old woman climbed up into the thorn-hedge, and sat on its top,\nsinging:\n\n    \u201cOverground, underground, round-about spell;\n    The Thirsty has come to the Thirsty Well!\u201d\n\nAgain Noodle let down the bucket; and this time as he drew it up he\nlooked over into the well\u2019s heart, and saw all the way up the side\na hundred blue arms reaching out crystal scallops and drawing water\nout of the bucket as hard as they could go. He saw thick lips like\nsea-anemones thrust out between the crevices of the wall, sucking the\ncrystals dry as fast as they were filled. \u201cTruly,\u201d he said to himself,\n\u201cthis is a thirsty well, but myself am thirstier!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen he had drawn up the bucket empty for the third time, he stood\nconsidering; and at last he fastened to it the firestone ring, the\nSweetener, and lowered it once more. Then he laughed to himself as he\ndrew up, and felt the bucket lightening at every turn till it touched\nthe surface of things.\n\nEmpty he found it, with only his firestone hanging by the rim, and once\nagain he let it down to be refilled. But this time as he wound up,\nnothing could keep him from letting a curious eye go over the brink,\nto see how the Well-folk fared over their wine; and in what he beheld\nthere was already comfort for his soul.\n\nThe blue arms went like oars out of unison; like carpet-beaters\nstricken in the eyes and throat with dust, they beat foolishly against\nthe sides and bottom of the bucket, shattering and letting fall their\ngoblets in each unruly attempt. And because Noodle wound leniently at\nthe rope, willing that they should have their fill, at the last gasp\nthey were able to send the bucket empty to the top. It was the last\nstaving off of destiny that lay in their power to make; thereafter wine\nconquered them.\n\nQuickly Noodle drew out the ring, and sent the bucket flying on its\nlast errand. It smacked the water, heeled over, and dipped under a\nfull draught. Then Noodle spun the windlass with the full pinch of his\nenergies, calling on the bucket to ascend. He heard the water spilling\nfrom its sides, and knew that the blue arms were there, battling to\narrest it as it flew, and to pay him back once more with emptiness and\nmockery. Yet in spite of them the bucket hasted and lightened not, but\nwas drawn up to the well\u2019s head brimming largely, and winking a blue\neye joyously to the light of day.\n\nOver head and ears Noodle plunged for the quenching of his thirst, nor\nstayed nor drew back till his head had smitten upon the bottom of the\nbucket in his pursuit of the draught. Then it was apparent that only\na third of the water remained, the rest having obeyed the imperative\nsuction of his throat, and that the thirsty well had at last found a\nmaster under the eye of heaven.\n\nIn the depth of the bucket the water flashed like a burning sapphire\nand swung circling, curling and coiling, tossing this way and that,\nas if struggling to get out. At last with a laugh it threw down the\nbucket, and tore back into the well with a crash like thunder.\n\nUp from the well rose a chant of voices:\n\n    \u201cUnder Heaven, over Hell,\n    You have broken the spell,\n    You are lord of the Well.\u201d\n\nNoodle stepped over the brink of his new realm, calling the Well-folk\nto reach hands for him and bear him down. All round, the blue arms\nstarted out, catching him and handing him on from one to another\nladderwise, down, and down, and down. As he went, anemone lips came out\nof the crannies in the wall, and kissed his feet and hands in token of\nallegiance. \u201cYou are lord of the well!\u201d they said, as they passed him\neach one to the next.\n\nHe came to the bottom of the well; under his feet, wherever he stepped\nupon its waters, hands came up and sustained him. The knowledge of\neverything that was there had become his. \u201cGive me,\u201d he said, \u201cthe\ncrystal cup that is for him who holds kingship over you; so shall I be\nlord of you in all places wherever I go.\u201d\n\nA blue arm reached down and drew up from the water a small crystal,\nthat burned through the darkness with a blue fire, and gave it to\nNoodle. \u201cNow I am your king, however far from you!\u201d said Noodle. And\nthey answered, chanting:\n\n    \u201cUnder Heaven, over Hell,\n    You have broken the spell,\n    You are lord of the Well.\u201d\n\n\u201cLift me up!\u201d said he; and the blue arms caught him and lifted him up;\nfrom one to another they passed him in ascending circles, till he came\nto the mouth of the well.\n\nThere overhead was the old witch, crouching and looking in to know what\nhad become of him; and her hair hung far down over her eyes into the\nwell. He caught her to him by it over the brink. \u201cOld witch,\u201d he said,\n\u201cyou must change places with me now!\u201d and he tossed her down to the\nbottom of the well.\n\nShe went like a falling shuttlecock, shrieking as she fell; and as she\nstruck the water, the drowned bodies of the men she had sent there came\nto the surface, and caught her by the feet and hair, and drew her down,\nmaking an end of her, as she also had made of them.\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE PRINCESS MELILOT\n\nWhen Noodle, carrying the crystal with him, set foot once more upon\ndry land, straightway he was again upon the back of the Galloping\nPlough, with the world flying away under him. But now weariness came\nover him, and his head weighed this way and that, so that earth and\nsky mixed themselves before his gaze, and he was so drugged with sleep\nthat he had no wits to bid the Plough slacken from its speed. Therefore\nit happened that as they passed a wood, a hanging bough caught him,\nand brushed him like a feather from his place, landing him on a green\nbosom of grass, where he slept the sleep of the weary, nor ever lifted\nhis head to see the Plough fast disappearing over hill and valley and\nplain, out of sound of his voice or sight of his eye.\n\nWhen Noodle awoke and found that the Plough was gone, he was bitter\nagainst himself for his folly. \u201cSo poor a use to make of so noble\na steed!\u201d he cried; \u201cno wonder it has gone from me to seek for a\nworthier master! If by good fortune I find it again, needs must I do\ngreat things by its aid to be worthy of its service.\u201d So he set out,\nfollowing the furrow of its course, determined, however far he must\nseek, to journey on till he found it.\n\nFor a whole year he travelled, till at length he came, footsore and\nweary, to a deserted palace standing in the midst of an overgrown\ngarden. The great gates, which lay wide open, were overrun with\ncreepers, and the paths were green with weeds. That morning he had\nthought that he saw far away on the hills the gleam of his silver\nPlough, and now hope rose high, for he could see by its track that\nthe Plough had passed before him into the garden of the palace. \u201cO my\nmoonbeam,\u201d he thought, \u201cis it here I shall find you at last?\u201d\n\nWithin the garden there was a sound of cross questions and crooked\nanswers, of many talking with loud voices, and of one weeping apart\nfrom the rest. When he got quite close, he was struck still with awe,\nand joy, and wonder. For first there lay the Galloping Plough in the\nmiddle of a green lawn, and round it a score of serving-men, tugging at\nit and trying to make it move on. Near by stood an old woman, wringing\nher hands and begging them to leave it alone: \u201cFor,\u201d cried she, \u201cif the\nPlough touches but the feet of the Princess, she will be uprooted, and\nwill presently wither away and die. Of what use is it to break one, if\nthe other enchantments cannot be broken?\u201d\n\nIn the centre of the lawn grew a bower of roses, and beneath the bower\nstood the loveliest princess that ever eye beheld; but she stood there\nmotionless, and without sign of life. She seemed neither to hear, nor\nsee, nor breathe; her feet were rooted to the ground; though they\nseemed only to rest lightly under her weight upon the grass, no man,\nnor a hundred men, could stir her from where she stood. And, as the\nspell that held her fast bound to the spot, even so was the spell that\nsealed her senses,--no man might lift it from her. When Noodle set eyes\nupon her he knew that for the third time his heart had been stolen\nfrom him, and that to be happy he must possess her, or die.\n\nHe ran quickly to the old woman, who, unregarded by the serving-men,\nstood weeping and wringing her hands. \u201cTell me,\u201d said Noodle, \u201cwho is\nthis sleeper who stands enchanted and rooted like a flower to earth?\nAnd who are you, and these others who work and cry at cross purposes?\u201d\n\nThe old woman cried from a wide mouth: \u201cIt is my mistress, the\nhoney-jewel of my heart, whom you see here so grievously enchanted. All\nthe gifts of the fairies at her christening did not prevent what was\nforetold of her at her birth. In her seventeenth year, as you see her\nnow, so it was told of her that she should be.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes she live?\u201d asked Noodle; \u201cis she asleep? She is not dead; when\nwill she wake? Tell me, old woman, her history, and how this fate has\ncome upon her.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe was the daughter of the king of this country by his first wife,\u201d\nsaid the old woman, \u201cand heir to the throne after his death; but when\nher mother died the king married again, and the three daughters he had\nby his second wife were jealous of the beauty, and charm, and goodness\nwhich raised their sister so high above them in the estimation of all\nmen. So they asked their mother to teach them a spell that should rob\nMelilot of her charms, and make them useless in the eyes of men. And\ntheir mother, who was wise in such arts, taught to each of them a\nspell, so that together they might work their will.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cOne day they came running to Melilot, and said, \u2018Come and play with\nus a new game that our mother has taught us!\u2019 Then they began turning\nthemselves into flowers. \u2018I will be a hollyhock!\u2019 said one. \u2018And I will\nbe a columbine!\u2019 said another; and saying the spell over each other\nthey became each the flower they had named.\n\n\u201cThen they unloosed the spells, and became themselves again. \u2018Oh, it is\nso nice to be a flower!\u2019 they cried, laughing and clapping their hands.\nBut Melilot knew no spell.\n\n\u201cAt last, seeing how her sisters turned into flowers, and came back\nsafe again, \u2018I will be a rose!\u2019 she cried; \u2018turn me into a rose and out\nagain!\u2019\n\n\u201cThen her three sisters joined their tongues together, and finished the\nspell over her. And so soon as she had become a rose-tree, the three\nsisters turned into three moles, and went down under the earth and\ngnawed at the roots.\n\n\u201cThen they came up, and took their own forms again, and sang,--\n\n    \u201c\u2018Sister, sister, here you are now,\n    Till the ploughman come with the Galloping Plough!\u2019\n\n\u201cThen they turned into bees, and sucked out the honey from the roses,\nand coming to themselves again they sang,--\n\n    \u201c\u2018Sister, here you must doze and doze,\n    Till they bring you a flower of the Burning Rose!\u2019\n\n\u201cThen they shook the dewdrops out of her eyes, crying,--\n\n    \u201c\u2018Sister, your brain lies under our spell,\n    Till water be brought from the Thirsty Well!\u2019\n\n\u201cThen they took the top blossom of all, and broke it to pieces, and\nthrew the petals away as they cried,--\n\n    \u201c\u2018Sister, your life goes down for a term,\n    Till they bring you breath from the Camphor-Worm!\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd when they had done all this, they turned her back into her\ntrue shape, and left her standing even as you see her now, without\nwarmth, or sight, or memory, or motion, dead saving for her beauty,\nthat never changes or dies. And here she must stand till the spells\nwhich have been fastened upon her have been unloosed. No long time\nafter, the wickedness of the three sisters and of their cruel mother\nwas discovered to the king, and they were all put to death for the\ncrime. Yet the ill they had done remained; and the king\u2019s grief became\nso great to see his loved daughter standing dead before him that he\nremoved with his court to another place, and left this palace to the\ncare of only a few serving-men, and myself to keep watch and guard over\nthe Princess.\n\n\u201cSo now four-fold is the spell that holds her, and to break the\nlightest of them the water of the Thirsty Well is needed; with two of\nits drops laid upon her eyes memory will come back to her, and her mind\nwill remember of the things of the past. And for the breaking of the\nsecond spell is needed a blossom of the Burning Rose, and the plucking\nof that no man\u2019s hand can achieve; but when the Rose is laid upon her\nbreast, her heart will belong to the world once more, and will beat\nagain under her bosom. And for the breaking of the third spell one must\nbring the breath of the Camphor-Worm that has lain for a whole year\ninside its body, and breathe it between her lips; then she will breathe\nagain, and all her five senses will return to her. And for the last\nspell only the Galloping Plough can uproot her back to life, and free\nher feet for the ways of earth. Now, here we have the Galloping Plough\nwith no man who can guide it, and what aid can it be? If these fools\nshould be able to make it so much as but touch the feet of my dear\nmistress, she will be mown down like grass, and die presently for lack\nof earth; for only the three other charms I have told you of can put\nwhole life back into her.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs for the mastery of the Plough,\u201d said Noodle, \u201cI will fetch that\nfrom them in a breath. See, in a moment, how marvellous will be the\nuplifting of their eyes!\u201d He put to his lips the firestone ring--the\nSweetener--and blew but one note through it. Then in a moment the crowd\ndivided hither and thither, with cries of wonder and alarm, for the\nPlough turned and bounded back to its master quickly, as an Arab mare\nat the call of her owner.\n\nThe old woman, weeping for gladness, cried: \u201cThou art master of the\nPlough! art thou master of all the other things as well?\u201d\n\nHe said: \u201cOf one thing only. Tell me of the Burning Rose and the\nCamphor-Worm; what and where are they? For I am the master of the ends\nof the earth by reason of the speed with which this carries me; and I\nam lord of the Thirsty Well, and have the Fire-eaters for my friends.\u201d\n\nThe old woman clapped her hands, and blessed him for his youth, and his\nwisdom, and his courage. \u201cFirst,\u201d she said, \u201crestore to the Princess\nher memory by means of the water of the Thirsty Well; then I will show\nyou the way to the Burning Rose, for the easier thing must be done\nfirst.\u201d\n\nThen Noodle drew out the crystal and breathed in it, calling on the\nWell-folk for the two drops of water to lay on Princess Melilot\u2019s\neyes. Immediately in the bottom of the cup appeared two blue drops of\nwater, that came climbing up the sides of the glass and stood trembling\ntogether on the brim. And Noodle, touching them with the firestone ring\nto make the memory of things sweet to her, bent back the Princess\u2019s\nface, and let them fall under her closed lids.\n\n\u201cLook!\u201d cried the faithful nurse, \u201clight trembles within those eyes of\nhers! In there she begins to remember things; but as yet she sees and\nhears nothing. Now it is for you to be swift and fetch her the blossom\nof the Burning Rose. Be wise, and you shall not fail!\u201d\n\n\nV\n\nTHE BURNING ROSE\n\nShe told him how he was to go, across the desert southward, till he\nfound a giant, longer in length than a day\u2019s journey, lying asleep upon\nthe sand. Over his head, it was told, hung a cloud, covering him from\nthe heat and resting itself against his brows; within the cloud was a\ndream, and within the dream grew the garden of the Burning Rose. Than\nthis she knew no more, nor by what means Noodle might gain entrance and\nbecome possessor of the Rose.\n\nNoodle waited for no more; he mounted upon the Galloping Plough, and\npressed away over the desert to the south. For three days he travelled\nthrough parched places, refreshing himself by the way with the water of\nthe Thirsty Well, calling on the Well-folk for the replenishment of his\ncrystal, and turning the draught to wine by the sweetness of his magic\nring.\n\nAt length he saw a cloud rising to him from a distance; like a great\nopal it hung motionless between earth and heaven. Coming nearer he saw\nthe giant himself stretched out for a day\u2019s journey across the sand.\nHis head lay under the colours of the dawn, and his feet were covered\nwith the dusk of evening, and over his middle shone the noonday sun.\n\nUnder the giant\u2019s shadow Noodle stopped, and gazed up into the cloud;\nthrough the outer covering of its mists he saw what seemed to be balls\nof fire, and knew that within lay the dream and the garden of the\nBurning Rose.\n\nThe giant laughed and muttered in his sleep, for the dream was sweet\nto him. \u201cO Rose,\u201d he said, \u201cO sweet Rose, what end is there of thy\nsweetness? How innumerable is the dance of the Roses of my Rose-garden!\u201d\n\nNoodle caught hold of the ropes of the giant\u2019s hair, and climbed till\nhe sat within the hollow of his right ear. Then he put to his lips the\nring, the Sweetener, and sang till the giant heard him in his sleep;\nand the sweet singing mixed itself with the sweetness of the Rose in\nthe giant\u2019s brain, and he muttered to himself, saying: \u201cO bee, O sweet\nbee, O bee in my brain, what honey wilt thou fetch for me out of the\nroses of my Rose-garden?\u201d\n\nSo, more and more, Noodle sweetened himself to the giant, till the\ngiant passed him into his brain and into the heart of the dream, even\ninto the garden of the Burning Rose.\n\nFar down below the folds of the cloud, Noodle remembered that the\nGalloping Plough lay waiting a call from him. \u201cWhen I have stolen the\nRose,\u201d thought he, \u201cI may need swift heels for my flight.\u201d And he put\nthe Sweetener to his lips and whistled the Plough up to him.\n\nIt came, cleaving the encirclement of clouds like a silver gleam of\nmoonlight, and for a moment, where they parted, Noodle saw a rift of\nblue sky, and the light of the outer world clear through their midst.\n\nThe giant turned uneasily in his sleep, and the garden of the Burning\nRose rocked to its foundations as the edge of things real pierced into\nit.\n\n\u201cWhile I stay here there is danger,\u201d thought Noodle. \u201cSurely I must\nmake haste to possess myself of the Rose and to escape!\u201d\n\nAll round him was a garden set thick with rose-trees in myriads of\nblossom, rose behind rose as far as the eye could reach, and the\nfragrance of them lay like a heavy curtain of sleep upon the senses.\nNoodle, beginning to feel drowsy, stretched out his hand in haste to\nthe nearest flower, lest in a little while he should be no more than a\npart of the giant\u2019s dream. \u201cO beloved Heart of Melilot!\u201d he cried, and\ncrushed his fingers upon the stem.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe whole bough crackled and sprang away at his touch; the Rose turned\nupon him, screaming and spouting fire; a noise like thunder filled all\nthe air. Every rose in the garden turned and spat flame at where he\nstood. His face and his hands became blistered with the heat.\n\nLeaping upon the back of his Plough, he cried, \u201cCarry me to the borders\nof the garden where there are open spaces! The price of the Princess is\nupon my head!\u201d\n\nThe Plough bounded this way and that, searching for some outlet by\nwhich to escape. It flew in spirals and circles, it leaped like a\nflea, it burrowed like a mole, it ploughed up the rose-trees by the\nroots. But so soon as it had passed they stood up unharmed again, and\nto whatever point of refuge the Plough fled, that way they all turned\ntheir heads and darted out vomitings of fire.\n\nIn vain did Noodle summon the Well-folk to his aid; his crystal shot\nforth fountains of water that turned into steam as they rose, and fell\nback again, scalding him.\n\nThen with two deaths threatening to devour him, he brandished the ring,\ncalling upon the Fire-eaters for their aid.\n\nThey laughed as they came. \u201cHere is food for you!\u201d he cried. \u201cMultiply\nyour appetites about me, or I shall be consumed in these flames!\u201d\n\n\u201cBrandish again!\u201d cried they--the same seven whom he had fed. \u201cWe are\nnot enough; this fire is not quenchable.\u201d\n\nNoodle brandished till the whole garden swarmed with their kind. One\nfastened himself upon every rose, a gulf opposing itself to a torrent.\nAll sight of the conflagration disappeared; but within there went a\nroaring sound, and the bodies of the Fire-eaters crackled, growing\nlarge and luminous the while.\n\n\u201cDo your will quickly and begone!\u201d cried the Fire-eaters. \u201cEven now we\nswell to bursting with the pumping in of these fires!\u201d\n\nNoodle seized on a rose to which one hung, sucking out its heats. He\ntugged, but the strong fibres held. Then he locked himself to the back\nof the Plough, crying to it and caressing its speed with all names\nunder heaven, and beseeching it in the name of Melilot to break free.\nAnd the Plough giving but one plunge, the Rose came away into Noodle\u2019s\nhand, panting and a prisoner. All blushing it grew and radiant, with a\nsoft inner glow, and an odour of incomparable sweetness. He seemed to\nsee the heart of Melilot beating before him.\n\nBut now there came a blast of fire behind him, for the Fire-eaters\nhad disappeared, and all was whirling and shaken before his eyes;\nand the Plough sped desperately over earthquake and space. For the\nplucking of the Rose had awakened the giant from his sleep; and the\ndream shrivelled and spun away in a whirl of flame-coloured vapours.\nLeaping into clear day out of the unravelment of its mists, Noodle\nfound himself and his Plough launching over an edge of precipice for a\ndownward dive into space. The giant\u2019s hair, standing upright from his\nhead in the wrath and horror of his awakening, made a forest ending in\nhis forehead that bowered them to right and to left. Quitting it they\nslid ungovernably over the bulge of his brow, and went at full spurt\nfor the abyss.\n\nDexterously the Plough steered its descent, catching on the bridge and\nfurrowing the ridge of the nose; nine leagues were the duration of a\nsecond.\n\nThe giant, thinking some venomous parasite was injuring his flesh,\naimed, and a moment too late had thumped his fist upon the place. But\nalready the Plough skirting the amazed opening of his mouth was lost\nin the trammels of his beard. Thence, as it escaped the rummaging\nof his fingers, it flew scouring his breast, and inflicted a flying\nscratch over the regions of his abdomen. Then, still believing it to\nbe the triumphal procession of a flea, he pursued it to his thigh, and\nmistaking the shadow for the substance allowed it yet again to escape.\nAt his kneecap there was but a hair\u2019s-breadth between Noodle and the\nweight of his thumb; but thereafter the Plough out-distanced his every\neffort, and, with Noodle preserved whole and alive, sped fast and far,\nbearing the Burning Rose to the heart of the beloved Melilot.\n\nThe crone was aware of his coming before she heard him, or saw the\ngleam of his Plough running beam-like over the land. From her seat by\nthe Princess\u2019s bower she clapped her hands, and springing to his neck\nere he alighted: \u201cA long way off, and a long time off,\u201d she cried, \u201cI\nknew what fortune was with you; for when you plucked off the Rose,\nand bore it out of the heart of the dream, the scent of it filled the\nworld; and I felt the sweetness of youth once more in my blood.\u201d\n\nThen she led him to the Princess, and bade him lay the Rose in her\nbreast, that her heart might be won back into the world. Looking at\nher face again, Noodle saw how memory had made it more beautiful than\never, and how between her lips had grown the tender parting of a smile.\nThen he laid the Rose where the movement of the heart should be; and\npresently under the white breast rose the music of its beating.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d cried the old nurse, weeping for happiness, \u201cnow her heart that\nloved me is come back, and I can listen all day to the sound of it! You\nhave brought memory to her, you have brought love; now bring breath,\nand the awakening of her five senses. Surely the light of her eyes will\nbe your reward!\u201d\n\n\nVI\n\nTHE CAMPHOR-WORM\n\n\u201cTell me quickly of the Camphor-Worm,\u201d cried the youth as he feasted\nhis eyes on the Princess\u2019s loveliness, made more unendurable by the\nawakening within of love. \u201cWhere and what is it?\u201d \u201cIt is not so far\nas was the way to the Burning Rose,\u201d answered the crone; \u201can hour on\nthe back of the Plough shall bring it near to you; but the danger\nand difficulty of this quest is more, not less. For to reach the\nCamphor-Worm you need to be a diver in deep waters, whose weight\ncrushes a man; and to touch its lips you must master the loathing of\nyour nature; and to carry away its breath you must have strength of\nwill and endurance beyond what is mortal.\u201d \u201cYou trouble me with things\nI need not know,\u201d cried Noodle. \u201cTell me,\u201d he said, \u201chow I may reach\nthe Camphor-Worm; and of it and its ways.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy this path, and by that,\u201d said the old woman, pointing him, \u201cgo on\ntill you come to the thick waters of the Bitter Lake; they are blacker\nthan night, and their weight is heavier than lead, and in the depths\ndwells the Camphor-Worm. Once a year, when the air is sweetest with the\nscents of summer, she rises to breathe, lifting her black snout through\nthe surface of the waters. Then she draws fresh air into her lungs,\nflavoured with leaves and flowers, and after she has breathed it in she\nlets go the last bubble of the breath she drew from the summer of the\nyear before; and it is this bubble of breath alone that will give back\nlife to the five senses of Princess Melilot. But the Worm\u2019s time for\nrising is far; and how you shall bear the weight in the depths of those\nwaters, or make the Worm give up the bubble before her time, or at last\nbear back the bubble to lay it on the lips of the Princess so that she\nmay wake,--these are things I know not the way of, for to my eyes they\nseem dark with difficulty and peril.\u201d\n\nThen Noodle, opening the petals of the Burning Rose as it lay upon\nthe heart of Melilot, drew out honey from its centre, filling his\nhand with the golden crumblings of fragrance; and he leapt upon the\nGalloping Plough, urging it in the way the Princess\u2019s nurse had pointed\nout to him. As they went he caressed it with all the names under\nheaven, stroking it with his hand and praising it for the delicacy of\nits steering: saying, \u201cO my moonbeam, if thou wouldst save the life\nof thy master, or restore the five senses of the Princess Melilot,\nthou must surpass thyself to-day. Listen, thou heaven-sent limb, thou\nmiracle of quicksilver, and have a long mind to my words; for in a\nshort while I shall have no speech left in me till the thing be done,\nand the deliverance, from head to feet, of my Beloved accomplished.\u201d\n\nEven while he spoke they came to the edge of the Bitter Lake--a small\npool, but its waters were blacker than night, and its heart heavier\nthan lead. Then Noodle leapt down from the Plough, and caressed it for\nthe last time, saying: \u201cSet thy face for the garden where the Princess\nMelilot is; and when I am come back to thee speechless out of the Lake\nand am striding thee once more, then wait not for a word but carry me\nto her with more speed than thou hast ever mustered to my aid till now;\ngo faster than wind or lightning or than the eye of man can see! So, by\ngood fortune, I may live till I reach her lips; but if thou tarry at\nall I am a dead man. And when thou art come to Melilot set thy share\nbeneath the roots of her feet, and take her up to me out of the ground.\nDo this tenderly, but abate not speed till it be done!\u201d\n\nThen the youth put into his mouth the honey of the Burning Rose, and\ninto his lips the Sweetener, and stripped himself as a bather to the\npool. And the Plough, remembering its master\u2019s word, turned and set its\nface to where lay the garden with Melilot waiting to be relieved of her\nenchantment. Whereat Noodle, bowing his head, and blessing it with lips\nof farewell, turned shortly and slid down into the blackness of the\nlake.\n\nThe weight of that water was like a vice upon his limbs, and around\nhis throat, as he swam out into the centre of the pool. As he went he\nbreathed upon the water, and the scent of the honey of the Burning Rose\npassing through the Sweetener made an incomparable fragrance, gentle,\nand subtle, and wooing to the senses.\n\nWhen he came to the middle of the lake he stayed breathing full\nbreaths, till the air deepened with fragrance around him. Presently\nunderneath him he felt the movement of a great thing coming up from\nthe bottom of the pool. It touched his feet and came grazing along his\nside; and all at once shuddering and horror took hold upon him, for his\nwhole nature was filled with loathing of its touch.\n\nOut of the pool\u2019s surface before him rose a great black snout, that\nopened, showing a round hole. Then he thought of Melilot and her beauty\nlaid fast under a charm, and drawing a full breath he laid his lips\ncontaining the ring, the Sweetener, to the lips of the Worm.\n\nThe Worm began to breathe. As the Worm drank the air out of him, he\ndrew in more through his nostrils, and more and more, till the great\ngills were filled and satisfied.\n\nThen the Worm let go the last bubble of air which remained from the\nyear before, and had lain ever since in its body, by which alone life\ncould be given back to the five senses of Melilot. Then drawing in its\nhead it lowered itself once more to the bottom of the pool; and Noodle,\nfeeling in his mouth the precious globule of air, fastened his lips\nupon it and shot out for shore.\n\nAgainst the weight of those leaden waters a longing to gasp possessed\nhim; but he knew that with the least breath the bubble would be lost,\nand all his labour undone. Not too soon his feet caught hold of the\nbank, and drew him free to land. He cast himself speechless across the\nback of the Galloping Plough and clung.\n\nThe Plough gathered itself together and sprang away through space.\nRemembering its master\u2019s word it showed itself a miracle of speed; like\nlightning became its flight.\n\nThe eye of Noodle grew blind to the passing of things; he could take no\ncount of the collapsing leagues. More and more grew the amazingness of\nthe Plough\u2019s leaps, things only to be measured by miles, and counted\nas joltings on the way; while fast to the back of it clung Noodle, and\nendured, praying that shortness of breath might not overmaster him, or\nthe check of his lungs give way and burst him to the emptiness of a\ndrum. His senses rocked and swayed; he felt the gates of his resolve\nslackening and forcing themselves apart; and still the Galloping Plough\nplunged him blindly along through space.\n\nBut now the shrill crying of the crone struck in upon his ears, and\nhe stretched open his arms for the accomplishment of the deliverance.\nEven in that nick of time was the end of the thing brought about; for\nthe Plough, guiding itself as a thread to the needle\u2019s eye, gave the\nuprooting stroke to the white feet of Melilot; and Noodle, swooning for\nthe last gasp, saw all at once her beauty swaying level to his gaze and\nher body bending down upon his.\n\nThen he fastened his lips upon hers, and loosed the bubble from his\nmouth; and panting and sobbing themselves back to life they hung in\neach other\u2019s arms. She warmed and ripened in his embrace, opening upon\nhim the light of her eyes; and the greatness and beauty of the reward\nabashed him and bore him down to earth.\n\nHe heard the old crone clucking and crowing, like a hen over its egg,\nof the happiness that had come to her old years; till recognising the\nyouth\u2019s state she covered him over with a cloak amid exclamations of\nastonishment.\n\nThe Princess saw nothing but her lover\u2019s face and the happy feasting of\nhis eyes. She bent her head nearer and nearer to his, and the story of\nwhat he had done became a dream that she remembered, and that waking\nmade true. \u201cO you Noodle,\u201d she said, laughing, \u201cyou wise, wise Noodle!\u201d\nAnd then everything was finished, for she had kissed him!\n\nSo Noodle and the Princess were married, and came to the throne\ntogether and reigned over a happy land. The Fire-eaters were their\nfriends, and the gifts of fortune were theirs. The Galloping Plough\nmade all the waste places fertile; and the water of the Thirsty Well\nrose and ran in rivers through the land; and over the walls of their\npalace, where they had planted it, grew the flower of the Burning Rose.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAT-CATCHER\u2019S DAUGHTER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived an old rat-catcher who had a daughter, the\nmost beautiful girl that had ever been born. Their home was a dirty\nlittle cabin; but they were not so poor as they seemed, for every night\nthe rat-catcher took the rats he had cleared out of one house and let\nthem go at the door of another, so that on the morrow he might be sure\nof a fresh job.\n\nHis rats got quite to know him, and would run to him when he called;\npeople thought him the most wonderful rat-catcher, and could not make\nout how it was that a rat remained within reach of his operations.\n\nNow anyone can see that a man who practised so cunning a roguery was\ngreedy beyond the intentions of Providence. Every day, as he watched\nhis daughter\u2019s beauty increase, his thoughts were: \u201cWhen will she be\nable to pay me back for all the expense she has been to me?\u201d He would\nhave grudged her the very food she ate, if it had not been necessary\nto keep her in the good looks which were some day to bring him his\nfortune. For he was greedier than any gnome after gold.\n\nNow all good gnomes have this about them: they love whatever is\nbeautiful, and hate to see harm happen to it. A gnome who lived far\naway underground below where stood the rat-catcher\u2019s house, said to his\nfellows: \u201cUp yonder is a man who has a daughter; so greedy is he, he\nwould sell her to the first comer who gave him gold enough! I am going\nup to look after her.\u201d\n\nSo one night, when the rat-catcher set a trap, the gnome went and got\nhimself caught in it. There in the morning, when the rat-catcher came,\nhe found a funny little fellow, all bright and golden, wriggling and\nbeating to be free.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t get out!\u201d cried the little gnome. \u201cLet me go!\u201d\n\nThe rat-catcher screwed up his mouth to look virtuous. \u201cIf I let you\nout, what will you give me?\u201d\n\n\u201cA sack full of gold,\u201d answered the gnome, \u201cjust as heavy as\nmyself--not a pennyweight less!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot enough!\u201d said the rat-catcher. \u201cGuess again!\u201d\n\n\u201cAs heavy as you are!\u201d cried the gnome, beginning to plead in a thin,\nwhining tone.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m a poor man,\u201d said the rat-catcher; \u201ca poor man mayn\u2019t afford to be\ngenerous!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it you want of me?\u201d cried the gnome.\n\n\u201cIf I let you go,\u201d said the rat-catcher, \u201cyou must make me the richest\nman in the world!\u201d Then he thought of his daughter: \u201cAlso you must make\nthe king\u2019s son marry my daughter; then I will let you go.\u201d\n\nThe gnome laughed to himself to see how the trapper was being trapped\nin his own avarice as, with the most melancholy air he answered: \u201cI can\nmake you the richest man in the world; but I know of no way of making\nthe king\u2019s son marry your daughter, except one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat way?\u201d asked the rat-catcher.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d answered the gnome, \u201cfor three years your daughter must come and\nlive with me underground, and by the end of the third year her skin\nwill be changed into pure gold like ours. And do you know any king\u2019s\nson who would refuse to marry a beautiful maiden who was pure gold from\nthe sole of her foot to the crown of her head?\u201d\n\nThe rat-catcher had so greedy an inside that he could not believe in\nany king\u2019s son refusing to marry a maiden of pure gold. So he clapped\nhands on the bargain, and let the gnome go.\n\nThe gnome went down into the ground, and fetched up sacks and sacks of\ngold, until he had made the rat-catcher the richest man in the world.\nThen the father called his daughter, whose name was Jasom\u00e9, and bade\nher follow the gnome down into the heart of the earth.\n\nIt was all in vain that Jasom\u00e9 begged and implored; the rat-catcher was\nbent on having her married to the king\u2019s son. So he pushed, and the\ngnome pulled, and down she went; and the earth closed after her.\n\nThe gnome brought her down to his home under the hill upon which stood\nthe town. Everywhere round her were gold and precious stones; the very\nair was full of gold dust, so that when she remained still it settled\non her hands and her hair, and a soft golden down began to show itself\nover her skin. So there in the house of the gnome sat Jasom\u00e9, and\ncried; and, far away overhead, she heard the days come and go, by the\nsound of people walking and the rolling of wheels.\n\nThe gnome was very kind to her; nothing did he spare of underground\ncommodities that might afford her pleasure. He taught her the legends\nof all the heroes that have gone down into earth, and been forgotten,\nand the lost songs of the old poets, and the buried languages that once\ngave wisdom to the world: down there all these things are remembered.\n\nShe became the most curiously accomplished and wise maiden that ever\nwas hidden from the light of day. \u201cI have to train you,\u201d said the\ngnome, \u201cto be fit for a king\u2019s bride!\u201d But Jasom\u00e9, though she thanked\nhim, only cried to be let out.\n\nIn front of the rat-catcher\u2019s house rose a little spring of salt water\nwith gold dust in it, that gilded the basin where it sprang. When he\nsaw it, he began rubbing his hands with delight, for he guessed well\nenough that his daughter\u2019s tears had made it; and the dust in it told\nhim how surely now she was being turned into gold.\n\nAnd now the rat-catcher was the richest man in the world: all his traps\nwere made of gold, and when he went rat-hunting he rode in a gilded\ncoach drawn by twelve hundred of the finest and largest rats. This was\nfor an advertisement of the business. He now caught rats for the fun of\nit, and the show of it, but also to get money by it; for, though he was\nso rich, ratting and money-grubbing had become a second nature to him;\nunless he were at one or the other, he could not be happy.\n\nFar below, in the house of the gnome, Jasom\u00e9 sat and cried. When the\nsound of the great bells ringing for Easter came down to her, the gnome\nsaid: \u201cTo-day I cannot bind you; it is the great rising day for all\nChristians. If you wish, you may go up, and ask your father now to\nrelease you.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSo Jasom\u00e9 kissed the gnome, and went up the track of her own tears,\nthat brought her to her father\u2019s door. When she came to the light of\nday, she felt quite blind; a soft yellow tint was all over her, and\nalready her hair was quite golden.\n\nThe rat-catcher was furious when he saw her coming back before her\ntime. \u201cOh, father,\u201d she cried, \u201clet me come back for a little while\nto play in the sun!\u201d But her father, fearing lest the gilding of her\ncomplexion should be spoiled, drove her back into the earth, and\ntrampled it down over her head.\n\nThe gnome seemed quite sorry for her when she returned; but already,\nhe said, a year was gone--and what were three years, when a king\u2019s son\nwould be the reward?\n\nAt the next Easter he let her go again; and now she looked quite\ngolden, except for her eyes, and her white teeth, and the nails on her\npretty little fingers and toes. But again her father drove her back\ninto the ground, and put a heavy stone slab over the spot to make sure\nof her.\n\nAt last the third Easter came, and she was all gold.\n\nShe kissed the gnome many times, and was almost sorry to leave him,\nfor he had been very kind to her. And now he told her about her father\ncatching him in the trap, and robbing him of his gold by a hard\nbargain, and of his being forced to take her down to live with him,\ntill she was turned into gold, so that she might marry the king\u2019s son.\n\u201cFor now,\u201d said he, \u201cyou are so compounded of gold that only the\ngnomes could rub it off you.\u201d\n\nSo this time, when Jasom\u00e9 came up once more to the light of day, she\ndid not go back again to her cruel father, but went and sat by the\nroadside, and played with the sunbeams, and wondered when the king\u2019s\nson would come and marry her.\n\nAnd as she sat there all the country-people who passed by stopped and\nmocked her; and boys came and threw mud at her because she was all\ngold from head to foot--an object, to be sure, for all simple folk to\nlaugh at. So presently, instead of hoping, she fell to despair, and sat\nweeping, with her face hidden in her hands.\n\nBefore long the king\u2019s son came that road, and saw something shining\nlike sunlight on a pond; but when he came near, he found a lovely\nmaiden of pure gold lying in a pool of her own tears, with her face\nhidden in her hair.\n\nNow the king\u2019s son, unlike the country-folk, knew the value of gold;\nbut he was grieved at heart for a maiden so stained all over with it,\nand more, when he beheld how she wept. So he went to lift her up;\nand there, surely, he saw the most beautiful face he could ever have\ndreamed of. But, alas! so discoloured--even her eyes, and her lips,\nand the very tears she shed were the colour of gold! When he could\nbring her to speak, she told him how, because she was all gold, all the\npeople mocked at her, and boys threw mud at her; and she had nowhere to\ngo, unless it were back to the kind gnome who lived underground, out of\nsight of the sweet sun.\n\nSo the prince said, \u201cCome with me, and I will take you to my father\u2019s\npalace, and there nobody shall mock you, but you shall sit all your\ndays in the sunshine, and be happy.\u201d\n\nAnd as they went, more and more he wondered at her great beauty--so\nspoiled that he could not look at her without grief--and was taken with\nincreasing wonder at the beautiful wisdom stored in her golden mind;\nfor she told him the tales of the heroes which she had learned from the\ngnome, and of buried cities; also the songs of old poets that have been\nforgotten; and her voice, like the rest of her, was golden.\n\nThe prince said to himself, \u201cI shut my eyes, and am ready to die loving\nher; yet, when I open them, she is but a talking statue!\u201d\n\nOne day he said to her, \u201cUnder all this disguise you must be the most\nbeautiful thing upon earth! Already to me you are the dearest!\u201d and he\nsighed, for he knew that a king\u2019s son might not marry a figure of gold.\n\nNow one day after this, as Jasom\u00e9 sat alone in the sunshine and cried,\nthe little old gnome stood before her, and said, \u201cWell, Jasom\u00e9, have\nyou married the king\u2019s son?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d cried Jasom\u00e9, \u201cyou have so changed me: I am no longer human!\nYet he loves me, and, but for that, he would marry me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear me!\u201d said the gnome. \u201cIf that is all, I can take the gold off you\nagain: why, I said so!\u201d\n\nJasom\u00e9 entreated him, by all his former kindness, to do so for her now.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the gnome, \u201cbut a bargain is a bargain. Now is the time\nfor me to get back my bags of gold. Do you go to your father, and let\nhim know that the king\u2019s son is willing to marry you if he restores to\nme my treasure that he took from me; for that is what it comes to.\u201d\n\nUp jumped Jasom\u00e9, and ran to the rat-catcher\u2019s house. \u201cOh, father,\u201d she\ncried, \u201cnow you can undo all your cruelty to me; for now, if you will\ngive back the gnome his gold, he will give my own face back to me, and\nI shall marry the king\u2019s son!\u201d\n\nBut the rat-catcher was filled with admiration at the sight of her, and\nwould not believe a word she said. \u201cI have given you your dowry,\u201d he\nanswered; \u201cthree years I had to do without you to get it. Take it away,\nand get married, and leave me the peace and plenty I have so hardly\nearned!\u201d\n\nJasom\u00e9 went back and told the gnome. \u201cReally,\u201d said he, \u201cI must show\nthis rat-catcher that there are other sorts of traps, and that it isn\u2019t\nonly rats and gnomes that get caught in them! I have given him his\ntaste of wealth; now it shall act as pickle to his poverty!\u201d\n\nSo the next time the rat-catcher put his foot out of doors the ground\ngave way under it, and, snap!--the gnome had him by the leg.\n\n\u201cLet me go!\u201d cried the rat-catcher; \u201cI can\u2019t get out!\u201d\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t you?\u201d said the gnome. \u201cIf I let you out, what will you give me?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy daughter!\u201d cried the rat-catcher; \u201cmy beautiful golden daughter!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no!\u201d laughed the gnome. \u201cGuess again!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy own weight in gold!\u201d cried the rat-catcher, in a frenzy; but\nthe gnome would not close the bargain till he had wrung from the\nrat-catcher the promise of his last penny.\n\nSo the gnome carried away all the sacks of gold before the\nrat-catcher\u2019s eyes; and when he had them safe underground, then at last\nhe let the old man go. Then he called Jasom\u00e9 to follow him, and she\nwent down willingly into the black earth.\n\nFor a whole year the gnome rubbed and scrubbed and tubbed her to get\nthe gold out of her composition; and when it was done, she was the most\nshiningly beautiful thing you ever set eyes on.\n\nWhen she got back to the palace, she found her dear prince pining for\nlove of her, and wondering when she would return. So they were married\nthe very next day; and the rat-catcher came to look on at the wedding.\n\nHe grumbled because he was in rags, and because he was poor; he wept\nthat he had been robbed of his money and his daughter. But gnomes and\ndaughters, he said, were in one and the same box; such ingratitude as\ntheirs no one could beat.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRAVELLER\u2019S SHOES\n\n\nA long while ago there lived a young cobbler named Lubin, who, when\nhis father died, was left with only the shop and the shoe-leather out\nof which to make his fortune. From morning to night he toiled, making\nand mending the shoes of the poor village folk; but his earnings were\nsmall, and he seemed never able to get more than three days ahead of\npoverty.\n\nOne day, as he sat working at his window-bench, the door opened, and in\ncame a traveller. He had on a pair of long red shoes with pointed ends;\nbut of one the seams had split, so that all his toes were coming out of\nit.\n\nThe stranger, putting up one foot after the other, took off both shoes,\nand giving that one which wanted cobbling to Lubin, he said: \u201cTo-night\nI shall be sleeping here at the inn; have this ready in good time\nto-morrow, for I am in haste to go on!\u201d And having said this he put the\nother shoe into his pocket, and went out of the door barefoot.\n\n\u201cWhat a funny fellow,\u201d thought Lubin, \u201cnot to make the most of one shoe\nwhen he has it!\u201d But without stopping to puzzle himself he took up the\nto-be-mended shoe and set to work. When it was finished he threw it\ndown on the floor behind him, and went on working at his other jobs. He\nmeant to work late, for he had not enough money yet to get himself his\nSunday\u2019s dinner; so when darkness shut in he lighted a rushlight and\ncobbled away, thinking to himself all the while of the roast meat that\nwas to be his reward.\n\nIt came close on midnight, and he was just putting on the last heel of\nthe last pair of shoes when he was aware of a noise on the floor behind\nhim. He looked round, and there was the red shoe with the pointed toe,\ncutting capers and prancing about by itself in the middle of the room.\n\n\u201cPeace on earth!\u201d exclaimed Lubin. \u201cI never saw a shoe do a thing so\ntipsy before!\u201d He went up and passed his hand over it and under it,\nbut there was nothing to account for its caperings; on it went, up and\ndown, toeing and heeling, skipping and sliding, as if for a very wager.\nLubin could even tell himself the name of the reel and the tune that it\nwas dancing to, for all that the other foot was missing. Presently the\nshoe tripped and toppled, falling heel up upon the floor; nor, although\nLubin watched it for a full hour, did it ever start upon a fresh jig.\n\nSoon after daybreak, when Lubin had but just opened his shutters and\nsat himself down to work, in came the traveller, limping upon bare\nfeet, with the shoe\u2019s fellow pointing its red toe out of his pocket.\n\u201cOh, so,\u201d he said, seeing the other shoe ready mended and waiting for\nhim, \u201chow much am I owing you for the job?\u201d\n\n\u201cJust a gold piece,\u201d said Lubin, carelessly, carrying on at his work.\n\n\u201cA gold piece for the mere mending of a shoe!\u201d cried the stranger. \u201cYou\nmust be either a rogue or a funny fellow.\u201d\n\n\u201cNeither!\u201d said Lubin, \u201cand for mending a shoe my charge is only\na penny; but for mending _that_ shoe, and for all the worry and\ntemptation to make it my own and run off with it--a gold piece!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be sure, you are an honest fellow,\u201d said the traveller, \u201cand\nhonesty is a rare gift; though, had you made off with it, I should have\nsoon caught you. Still, you were not so wise as to know that, so here\u2019s\nyour gold piece for you.\u201d He pulled out a big bag of gold as he spoke,\npouring its contents out on to the window bench.\n\n\u201cThat is a lot of money for a lonely man to carry about,\u201d said Lubin.\n\u201cAre you not afraid?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, no,\u201d answered the man. \u201cI have a way, so that I can always follow\nit up even if I lose it.\u201d He took two of the gold pieces, and dropped\none into the sole of each shoe as he was putting them on. \u201cThere!\u201d\nsaid he, \u201cnow, if any man steal my money, I need only wait till it is\nmidnight; and then I have but to say to my shoes \u2018Seek!\u2019 and up they\njump, with me in them, and carry me to where my stolen property is,\nwere it to the world\u2019s end. It is as if they had the nose and sagacity\nof a pair of bloodhounds. Ah, son of a cobbler, had you run off with\nthe one I should have very soon caught you with the other; for if one\nwalks the other is bound to follow. But, as you were honest, we part\nfriends; and I trust God may bring you to fortune.\u201d Then the traveller\ndid up his bag of gold, nodded to the cobbler from the doorway, and was\ngone.\n\nLubin laid down his work, and went off to the inn. \u201cDid anything\nhappen here last night?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cNothing of much note,\u201d answered the innkeeper. \u201cThree travelling\nfiddlers were here, and afterwards a man came in barefoot, but with a\nred shoe sticking out of his pocket. I thought of turning the fellow\naway, till he let me see the colour of his gold. Presently the fiddlers\nstarted to play and the other man to drink. At first when they called\non him to dance he excused himself for his feet\u2019s sake; but presently,\nwhat with the music and the liquor, he got so lively in his head that\nhe pulled on his one shoe and danced like three ordinary men put\ntogether.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat time was that?\u201d asked Lubin.\n\n\u201cGetting on for midnight,\u201d answered the innkeeper.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Lubin, and went home thinking much on the way.\n\nTowards evening he found that he had run out of leather, and must go\ninto the town, ten miles off, to buy more. \u201cNow my gold piece comes\nin handy,\u201d thought he; so he locked up the house, put the key in his\npocket, and set out.\n\nThough it was the season of long days it was growing dark when he came\nto a part of the road that led through the wood; but being so poor a\nman he had no fear, nor thought at all about the robbers who were said\nto be in those parts. But as he went, he saw all at once by the side of\nthe road two red spikes sticking up out of a ditch, their bright colour\nmaking them plain to the eye. He came quite near and saw that they were\ntwo red shoes with pointed toes; and then he saw more clearly that\nalong with them lay the traveller, his wallet empty and with a dagger\nstuck through his heart.\n\nThe cobbler\u2019s son was as sorry as he could be. \u201cAlas, poor soul,\u201d\nthought he, \u201cwhat good are the shoes to you now? Now that thieves have\nkilled you and taken away your gold, surely I do no harm if I give an\nhonest man your shoes!\u201d He stooped down, and was about taking them off\nwhen he saw the eyes of the dead man open. The eyes looked at him as if\nthey would remind him of something; and at once, when he loosed hold of\nthe shoes, they seemed satisfied. Then he remembered, and thought to\nhimself, \u201cThe world has many marvels in it; I will wait till midnight\nand see.\u201d\n\nFor over three hours he kept watch by the dead man\u2019s side. \u201cOnly last\nnight,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cthis poor fellow was dancing as merry a\nmeasure as ever I saw, for the half of it surely I saw; and now!\u201d Then\nhe judged that midnight must be come, so he bent over the shoes and\nwhispered to them but one word.\n\nThe dead man stood up in his shoes and began running. Lubin followed\nclose, keeping an eye on him, for the shoes made no sound on the earth.\nThey ran on for two hours, till they had come to the thickest part\nof the forest; then some way before them Lubin began to see a light\nshining. It came from a small square house in a court-yard, and round\nthe court-yard lay a deep moat; only one narrow plank led over and up\nto the entrance.\n\nThe red shoes, carrying the dead man, walked over, and Lubin followed\nthem. When they were at the other side they turned, facing towards the\nplank that they had crossed, and Lubin seemed to read in the dead man\u2019s\neye what he was to do.\n\nThen he turned and lifted the plank away from over the moat, so that\nthere was no longer any entrance or exit to the place. Through the\nwindow of the house he could see the three fiddlers quarrelling over\nthe dead man\u2019s gold.\n\nThe red shoes went on, carrying their dead owner, till they got to the\nthreshold, and there stopped. Then Lubin came and clicked up the latch,\nand pushed open the door, and in walked the dead man with the dagger\nsticking out of his heart.\n\nThe three fiddlers, when they saw that sight, dropped their gold and\nleapt out of the window; and as they fled, shrieking, thinking to\ncross the moat by the plank-bridge that was no longer there, one after\nthe other they fell into the water, and, clutching each other by the\nthroat, were drowned.\n\nBut the red shoes stayed where they were, and, tilting up his feet, let\nthe traveller go gently upon the ground; and when Lubin held down the\nlantern to his face, on it lay a good smile, to tell him that the dead\nman thanked him for all he had done.\n\nSo in the morning Lubin went and fetched a priest to pray for the\nrepose of the traveller\u2019s soul, and to give him good burial; and to him\nhe gave all the dead man\u2019s money, but for himself he took the red shoes\nwith the pointed toes, and set out to make his fortune in the world.\n\nWalking along he found that however far he went he never grew tired.\nWhen he had gone on for more than a hundred miles, he came to the\ncapital where the King lived with his Court.\n\nAll the flags of the city were at half-mast, and all the people were in\nhalf-mourning. Lubin asked at the first inn where he stopped what it\nall meant.\n\n\u201cYou must indeed be a stranger,\u201d said his host, \u201cnot to know, for \u2019tis\nnow nearly a year since this trouble began; and this very night more\ncause for mourning becomes due.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me of it, then,\u201d said Lubin, \u201cfor I know nothing at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cAt least,\u201d returned the innkeeper, \u201cyou will know how, a little more\nthan a year ago, the Queen, who was the most beautiful woman in the\nworld, died, leaving the King with twelve daughters, who, after her,\nwere reckoned the fairest women on earth, though the King says that all\ntheir beauty rolled into one would not equal that of his dead wife;\nand, indeed, poor man, there is no doubt that he loved her devotedly\nduring her life, and mourns for her continually now she is dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly a small part of all this have I known,\u201d said Lubin.\n\n\u201cWell, but at least,\u201d said the innkeeper, \u201cyou will have heard how the\nPrincesses were famed for their hair; so beautiful it was, so golden,\nand so long! And now, at every full moon, one of them goes bald in a\nnight; and bald her head stays as a stone, for never an inch of hair\ngrows on it again; and with her hair all her beauty goes pale, so that\nshe is but the shadow of her former self--a thin-blooded thing, as if\na vampire had come and sucked out half her life. Yes; ten months this\nhas happened, and ten of the Princesses have lost their looks and\ntheir hair as well; and now only the Princess Royal and the youngest\nof all remain untouched; and doubtless one of them is to lose her crop\nto-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how does it happen?\u201d cried Lubin. \u201cIs no one put to keep watch, to\nguard them from the thing being done?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! you talk, you talk!\u201d said the innkeeper. \u201cHow? The King has\noffered half his kingdom to anyone who can tell him how the mischief is\ndone; and the other half to the man who will put an end to it. To put\nit shortly, if you believe yourself a clever enough man, you may have\nthe King for your father-in-law, with the pick of his daughters for\nyour bride, and be his heir and lord of all when he dies!\u201d\n\n\u201cFor such a reward,\u201d said Lubin, \u201chas no man made the attempt?\u201d\n\n\u201cAye, one a month; every time there has been some man fool enough to\nthink himself so clever; and he has been turned out of the palace next\nday with his ears cropped.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will risk having my ears cropped,\u201d said Lubin; for his heart was\nsorry for the young Princesses, and the vanishing of their beauty. So\nhe went up and knocked at the gates of the palace.\n\nThey went and told the King that a new man had come willing and wanting\nto have his ears cropped on the morrow. \u201cWell, well,\u201d said the King,\n\u201clet the poor fool in!\u201d for indeed he had given up all hope. From the\nKing Lubin heard the whole story over again. The old man sighed so it\ntook him whole hours to tell it.\n\n\u201cI would be glad to be your son,\u201d said Lubin, when the King had ended;\n\u201cbut I would like better to make you rid of your sorrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is kind of you,\u201d said the King. \u201cPerhaps I will only crop one of\nyour ears to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen may one see the Princesses?\u201d asked Lubin.\n\n\u201cThey will be down to supper, presently,\u201d answered the King; \u201cthen you\nshall see them, what there is left of them.\u201d\n\nThough it was reckoned that the next day Lubin would have to be drummed\nout of the palace with his ears cropped short, on this day he was to be\ntreated like an honoured guest. When they went in to supper the King\nmade him sit upon his right hand.\n\nThe twelve Princesses came in, their heads bowed down with weeping;\nall were fair, but ten of them were thin and pale, and wore white\nwimples over their heads like nuns; only the Princess Royal, who was\nthe eldest, and Princess Lyneth, who was the youngest, had gold hair\ndown to their feet, and were both so shiningly beautiful that the poor\ncobbler was altogether dazzled by the sight of them.\n\nThe King looked out of the window and said: \u201cHeigho! There is the full\nmoon beginning to rise.\u201d Then they all said grace and sat down.\n\nBut when the viands were handed round, all the Princesses sat weeping\ninto their plates, and seemed unable to eat anything. For the pale and\nthin ones said: \u201cTo-night another of our sisters will lose her golden\nhair and her good looks, and be like us!\u201d Therefore they wept.\n\nAnd Lyneth said: \u201cTo-night, either my dear sister or myself will fall\nunder the spell!\u201d Therefore she wept more than the other ten. But the\nPrincess Royal sat trembling, and crying:\n\n\u201cTo-night I know that the curse is to fall upon me, and me only!\u201d\nTherefore she wept more than all.\n\nLubin sat, and watched, and listened, with his head bent down over\nhis golden plate. \u201cWhich of these two shall I try most to save?\u201d he\nthought. \u201cHow shall I test them, so as to know? If I could only tell\nwhich of them was to lose her hair to-night, then I might do something.\u201d\n\nHe saw that the youngest sister cried so much that she could eat\nnothing; but the Princess Royal, between her bursts of grief, picked up\na morsel now and again from her plate, and ate it as though courage or\ndespair reminded her that she must yet strive to live.\n\nWhen the meat-courses were over, the King said to the Princesses: \u201cI\nwish you would try to eat a little pudding! Here is a very promising\nyouth, who is determined by all that is in him that harm shall happen\nto none of you to-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow he will be sent away with his ears cut short!\u201d said Princess\nLyneth; and her tears, as she spoke, ran down over the edge of her\nplate on to the cloth.\n\nWhen supper was over the Princess Royal came up to Lubin, and said: \u201cDo\nnot be angry with my sister for what she said! It has only been too\ntrue of many who came before; to-night, unless you do better than them\nall, I shall lose my hair. It has been a wonder to me how I have been\nspared so long, seeing that I am the eldest, and, as some will have\nit, the fairest. Will you keep a good guard over me to-night, as though\nyou knew for certain that I am to be the one this time to suffer?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will guard you as my own life,\u201d said Lubin, \u201cif you will but do as I\nask you.\u201d\n\n\u201cPledge yourself to me, then, in this cup!\u201d said she, and lifted\nto his lips a bowl of red wine. Over the edge of it her eyes shone\nbeautifully; he drank gazing into their clear depth.\n\n\u201cWhere am I to be for the night,\u201d he asked of the King, \u201cso that I may\nwatch over the two Princesses?\u201d\n\nThe King took him to a chamber with two further doors that opened out\nof it. \u201cHere,\u201d said the King, \u201cyou are to sleep, and in the inner rooms\nsleep the Princess Royal and the Princess Lyneth. There is no entrance\nor exit to them but through this; therefore, when you are here with\nyour door bolted, one would suppose that you had them safe. Alas! ten\nother men have tried like you to ward off the harm, and have failed;\nand so to-day I have ten daughters with no looks left to them, and no\nhair upon their heads.\u201d\n\nAs they were speaking, the two Princesses, with their sisters, came up\nto bed. And the pale ones, wearing their white wimples, came and kissed\nthe golden hair of the other two, crying over it, and saying, \u201cTo one\nof you we are saying good-bye; to-morrow one of you will be like us!\u201d\nThen they went away to their sleeping-place, and the Princess Royal and\nLyneth kissed each other, and parted weeping, each into her own chamber.\n\n\u201cWatch well over us!\u201d said Lyneth to Lubin, as she passed through.\n\u201cWatch over me!\u201d said the Princess Royal. And then the two doors were\nclosed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLubin said to the King, \u201cCould I now see the two Princesses, without\nbeing seen by them, it would help me to know what to do.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome down to my cabinet,\u201d said the King. \u201cI have an invisible cap\nthere, that I can lend you if you think you can do any good with it.\u201d\nSo they went; and the King reached down the cap from the wall and gave\nit to Lubin.\n\n\u201cNow, good-night, your Majesty,\u201d said Lubin; \u201cI will do for you all I\ncan.\u201d\n\nThe King answered, \u201cEither you shall be my son-in-law to-morrow, or you\nshall have no ears. My wishes are with you that the former state may be\nyours.\u201d\n\nLubin went into his chamber and closed and bolted the door; then he put\nthe bed up against it. \u201cNow, at least,\u201d he thought, \u201cthere are three of\nus, and no more!\u201d He put on his invisible cap, and going softly to the\nPrincess Royal\u2019s door, opened it and peeped in.\n\nShe stood up before her glass, combing out her long gold hair, and\nsmiling proudly because of its beauty. She gathered it up by all its\nends and kissed it; then, letting it fall, she went on combing as\nbefore.\n\nLubin went out, closing the door again; then he took off his cap and\nknocked, and presently he heard the Princess Royal saying, \u201cCome in!\u201d\nShe was lying down upon the bed, squeezing her eyes with her hands.\n\n\u201cPrincess,\u201d he said, \u201cI will watch over you like my own life, if you\nwill do what I bid you. I am but a poor man, and the best that I can\ndo is but poor; but I think, if you will, I can save your head from\nbecoming as bare as a billiard ball.\u201d\n\nThe Princess asked him how.\n\n\u201cYou know,\u201d said he, \u201cthat to-night something is to happen to one of\nyou\u201d (\u201cTo me!\u201d said the Princess), \u201cand all your hair will be stolen in\nsuch a way that nothing will ever make it grow again. See, here I have\na pair of common scissors; let me but cut your hair close off all over\nyour head, and then who can steal it? For a few months you will be a\nfright, but it can grow again.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think you are a silly fellow!\u201d said the Princess. \u201cBetter for you to\nget to bed, and have your ears cropped quietly in the morning! After\nall, it may be my sister\u2019s turn to lose her hair, not mine. I shall not\nmake myself a fright for a year of my life in order to save you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you think so poorly of my offer,\u201d said Lubin, \u201cI had better go to\nbed and sleep, and not trouble the Princess Lyneth at all with it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, indeed!\u201d said the Princess Royal. \u201cGo to bed and sleep, poor\nfool!\u201d And, in truth, Lubin was feeling so sleepy that he could hardly\nkeep open his eyes.\n\nThen he left her, and, pulling the invisible cap once more over his\nhead, crept softly into Princess Lyneth\u2019s chamber.\n\nShe was standing before her glass with all her beautiful hair flowing\ndown from shoulders to feet; and tears were falling fast out of her\neyes as she kept drawing her hair together in her hands, kissing and\nmoaning over it.\n\nThen Lubin went out again, and, taking off his cap, knocked softly at\nthe door.\n\n\u201cCome in!\u201d said the Princess; and when he went in she was still\nstanding before the glass weeping and moaning for her beautiful hair,\nthat might never see another day. On the bed was lying a white wimple,\nready for her to put on when her head was become bald.\n\n\u201cPrincess,\u201d said Lubin, very humbly, \u201cwill you help me to save your\nbeautiful hair, by doing what I ask?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it that you ask?\u201d said she.\n\n\u201cOnly this,\u201d he answered; \u201cI am a poor man, and cannot do much for you,\nbut only my best. To-night you or your sister must lose your hair; and\nwe know that afterwards, if that happen, it can never grow again. Now,\ncome, here I have a common pair of scissors; if I could cut your hair\nquite short, in a few months it will grow again, and there will be\nnothing to-night that the Fates can steal. Will you let me do this for\nyou in true service?\u201d\n\nThe Princess looked at him, and looked at her glass. \u201cOh, my hair, my\nhair!\u201d she moaned. Then she said, \u201cWhat matters it? You mean to be good\nto me, and a month is the most that my fortune can last. If I do not\nlose it to-night, I lose it at the next full moon!\u201d Then she shut her\neyes and bade him take off all he wished. When he had finished, she\npicked up the wimple and covered her head with it; but Lubin took up\nthe long coil of gold hair and wound it round his heart.\n\nHe knelt down at her feet. \u201cPrincess,\u201d he said, \u201cbe sure now that I can\nsave you! Only I have one other request to make.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d asked the Princess.\n\nHe took off one of his red shoes with the pointed toes. \u201cWill you, for\na strange thing, put on this shoe and wear it all to-night in your\nsleep? And in the morning I will ask you for it again.\u201d\n\nThe Princess promised faithfully that she would do so. Even before he\nhad left the room she had put foot in it, promising that only he should\ntake it off again.\n\nLubin\u2019s eyes were shut down with sleep as he groped his way to bed;\nhe lay down with the other red shoe upon his foot. \u201cWatch for your\nfellow!\u201d he said to it; and then his senses left him and he was fast\nasleep.\n\nIn the middle of the night, while he was deep in slumber, the red shoe\ncaught him by the foot and yanked him out of bed; he woke up to find\nhimself standing in the middle of the room, and there before him stood\nthe two doors of the inner chambers open; through that of the Princess\nRoyal came a light. He heard the Princess Lyneth getting very softly\nout of her bed, and presently she stood in the doorway, with her hands\nout and her eyes fast shut; and the red shoe was on one foot, and the\nwhite wimple on her head. Little tears were running down from under her\nclosed lids; and she sighed continually in her sleep. \u201cHave pity on\nme!\u201d she said.\n\nShe crossed slowly from one door to the other; and Lubin, putting on\nhis invisible cap, crept softly after her. The Princess Royal\u2019s chamber\nwas empty, but her glass was opened away from the wall like a door, and\nbeyond lay a passage and steps. At the top of the steps was another\ndoor, and through it light came, and the sound of a soft voice singing.\n\nPrincess Lyneth, knowing nothing in her sleep, passed along the passage\nand up the steps till she came to the further doorway. Looking over\nher shoulder Lubin saw the Princess Royal sitting before a loom. In it\nlay a great cloth of gold, like a bride\u2019s mantle, into which she was\nweaving the last threads of her skein. Close to her side lay a pair of\ngreat shears that shone like blue fire; and while she sang they opened\nand snapped, keeping time to the music she made.\n\nWithout ever turning her head the Princess Royal sat passing her\nfingers along the woof and crying:\n\n    \u201cSister, sister, bring me your hair,\n    Of our Mother\u2019s beauty give me your share.\n    You must grow pale, while I must grow fair!\u201d\n\nAnd while she was so singing, Lyneth drew nearer and nearer, with her\neyes fast shut, and the white wimple over her head. \u201cHave pity on me!\u201d\nshe said, speaking in her sleep.\n\nAs soon as the Princess Royal heard that she laughed for joy, and\ncatching up the great flaming shears, turned herself round to where\nLyneth was standing. Then she opened the shears, and took hold of the\nwimple, and pulled it down.\n\nAll in a moment she was choking with rage, for horrible was the sight\nthat met her eye. \u201cAh! cobbler\u2019s son,\u201d cried she, \u201cyou shall die for\nthis! To-morrow not only shall you have your two ears cropped, but you\nshall die: do not be afraid!\u201d\n\nLubin looked at her and smiled, knowing how little she thought that he\nheard her words. \u201cAh! Princess Royal,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cthere is\nanother who should now be afraid, but is not.\u201d\n\nThen for very spite the Princess began slapping her sister\u2019s face. \u201cAh!\nwicked little sister,\u201d she cried, \u201cyou have cheated me this time! But\ngo back and wait till your hair has grown, and then my gown of gold\nshall be finished, although this once you have been too sly!\u201d She threw\ndown the shears, and drove her sister back by stair and passage, and\nthrough the looking-glass door at the other end.\n\nLubin following, stayed first to watch how by a secret spring the\nPrincess Royal closed the mirror back into the wall; then he slipped\non before, and taking his cap off, lay down on his bed pretending to\nbe fast asleep. He heard Princess Lyneth return to her couch, and then\ncame the Princess Royal and ground her teeth at him in the darkness.\n\nPresently she, too, returned to her bed and lay down; and an hour after\nLubin got up very softly and went into her chamber. There she lay\nasleep, with her beautiful hair all spread out upon the pillow; but\nLubin had Princess Lyneth\u2019s hair wound round his heart. He touched the\nsecret spring, so that the mirror opened to him, and he passed through\ntoward the little chamber where stood the loom.\n\nThere hung the cloth of gold, all but finished; beside it the shears\nopened and snapped, giving out a blue light. He took up the shears in\nhis hand, and pulled down the gold web from the loom, and back he went,\nclosing the mirror behind him.\n\nThen he came to the Princess Royal as she lay asleep; and first he laid\nthe cloth of gold over her, and saw how at once she became ten times\nmore fair than she was by rights, as fair almost as her dead mother,\nlacking one part only. But her beauty did not win him to have pity on\nher.\n\n\u201cThere can be thieves, it seems, in high places!\u201d he said; and with\nthat he opened the shears over her head and let them snap: then all her\nlong hair came out by the roots, and she lay white and withered before\nhis eyes, and as bald as a stone.\n\nHe gathered up all her hair with one hand, and the cloth of gold with\nthe other, and went quietly away. Then, hiding the shears in a safe\nplace, first he burnt the Princess Royal\u2019s hair, till it became only a\nlittle heap of frizzled cinders; and after that he went to the chamber\nof the ten Princesses, whose hair and whose sweet youth had been stolen\nfrom them. There they lay all in a row in ten beds, with pale, gentle\nfaces, asleep under their white wimples.\n\nHe went to the first, and, laying the cloth of hair over her, cried:\n\n    \u201cSister, sister, I bring you your hair,\n    Of your Mother\u2019s beauty I give you your share.\n    One must grow pale, but you must grow fair!\u201d\n\nAnd as he said the words one part of the cloth unwove itself from the\nrest, and ran in ripples up the coverlet, and on to the pillow where\nthe Princess\u2019s head lay. There it coiled itself under the wimple, a\ngreat mass of shining gold, and the face of the Princess flushed warm\nand lovely in her sleep.\n\nLubin passed on to the next bed, and there uttered the same words;\nand again one part of the web came loose, and wound itself about the\nsleeper\u2019s face, that grew warm and lovely at its touch. So he went from\nbed to bed, and when he came to the end there was no more of the web\nleft.\n\nHe went back into his own chamber, laughing in his heart for joy, and\nthere he dropped himself between the sheets and fell into a sound\nslumber.\n\nHe was awakened in the morning by the King knocking and trying to get\ninto the room. Lubin pulled back the bed, and in came the King with a\nmournful countenance.\n\n\u201cWhich of them is it?\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cGo and ask them!\u201d said Lubin.\n\nThe King went over and knocked at the Princess Royal\u2019s door: the\nknocking opened her eyes. Lubin heard her suddenly utter a yell. \u201cAh!\nnow she has looked at herself in the glass,\u201d thought he.\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter?\u201d called the King. \u201cCome out and let me look at\nyou!\u201d But the Princess Royal would not come out. She ran quick to\nher mirror, and touched the secret spring. \u201cAt least,\u201d she thought,\n\u201cthough fiends have robbed me of all my beauty, I can get it back by\nwearing the cloth woven from my sisters\u2019 hair!\u201d She skipped along the\npassage and up the steps to the little chamber where the loom was.\n\nThe King, getting no answer, went across and knocked at Lyneth\u2019s door;\nshe came out, all fresh in her beauty, but wearing upon her head the\nwimple. \u201cAh!\u201d said the King dolorously; and he snipped his fingers at\nLubin.\n\nLubin laughed out. \u201cBut look at her face!\u201d he said. \u201cSurely she is\nbeautiful enough?\u201d\n\nThe Princess lifted up her wimple, and showed the King her hair all\nshorn beneath. \u201cThat was my doing,\u201d said Lubin; \u201c\u2019twas the way of\nsaving it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a Dutchman\u2019s remedy!\u201d cried the King; and just then the Princess\nRoyal\u2019s door flew open.\n\nShe came out tearing herself to pieces with rage; her face was pale and\nthin, and her head was as bare as a billiard ball. \u201cHave that clown of\na cobbler killed!\u201d she cried in a passion. \u201cThat fool, that numbskull,\nthat cheat! Have him beheaded, I say!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, I am only to have one of my ears cropped off!\u201d said Lubin,\nlooking hard at her all the time.\n\n\u201cI am not at all sure,\u201d said the King. \u201cYou have done foolishly and\nbadly, for not only have you let the disease go on, but your very\nremedy is as bad. Two heads of hair gone in one night! You had better\nhave kept away. If the Princesses wish it, certainly I will have you\nput to death.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you not see the other Princesses too?\u201d asked Lubin. \u201cLet them\ndecide between them whether I am to live or die!\u201d\n\nThe King was just going to call for them, when suddenly the ten\nPrincesses opened the door of their chamber, and stood before him\nshining like stars, with all their golden hair running down to their\nfeet.\n\n\u201cNow put me to death!\u201d said Lubin; and all the time he kept his eye\nupon the Princess Royal, who turned flame-coloured with rage.\n\n\u201cNo, indeed!\u201d cried the King. \u201cNow you must be more than pardoned! You\nsee, my dears,\u201d he said to Lyneth and the Princess Royal, \u201cthough you\nhave suffered, your sisters have recovered all that they lost. They are\nten to two; and I can\u2019t go back on arithmetic; I am bound to do even\nmore than pardon him for this.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed and indeed yes!\u201d replied the Princess Lyneth. \u201cHe has done ten\ntimes more than we thought of asking him!\u201d And she went from one to\nanother of her recovered sisters, kissing their beautiful long hair for\npure gladness of heart. But when she came to the Princess Royal, she\nkissed her many times, and stooped down her face upon her shoulder, and\ncried over her.\n\n\u201cTell me now,\u201d said the King to Lubin, \u201cfor you are a very wonderful\nfellow, how did it all happen?\u201d\n\nLubin looked at the Princess Royal; after all he could not betray a\nlady\u2019s secret. \u201cI cannot tell you,\u201d he said; \u201cif I did, there would be\na death in the family.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the King, \u201chowever you may have done it, I own that you\nhave earned your reward. You have only to choose now which of my\ndaughters is to make you my son-in-law. From this day you shall be\nknown as my heir.\u201d He ranged all the Princesses in line, according to\ntheir ages. \u201cNow choose,\u201d said the King, \u201cand choose well!\u201d\n\nLubin went up to the Princess Royal. \u201cI won\u2019t have you!\u201d he said,\nlooking very hard at her; and the Princess Royal dropped her eyes. Then\nhe went on to the next. \u201cSweet lady,\u201d he said, \u201cI dare not ask one with\nsuch beautiful hair as yours to marry me, who am a poor cobbler\u2019s son.\u201d\nBut all the while he had the Princess Lyneth\u2019s hair bound round his\nheart.\n\nHe went on from one to another, and of each he kissed the hand, saying\nthat she was too fair to marry him.\n\nHe came to Lyneth and knelt down at her feet. \u201cLyneth,\u201d he said, \u201cwill\nyou give the poor cobbler back his shoe?\u201d\n\nLyneth, looking in his eyes, saw all that he meant. \u201cAnd myself in it,\u201d\nshe said, \u201cfor you love me dearly!\u201d She put her arms round his neck,\nand whispered, \u201cYou marry me because I am a fright, and have no hair!\u201d\n\nBut Lubin said, \u201cI have your hair all wound round my heart, making it\nwarm!\u201d\n\nSo they were married, and lived together more happily than cobbler\nand princess ever lived in the world before. And the cobbler dropped\nmending shoes: only his wife\u2019s shoes he always mended. Very soon\nLyneth\u2019s hair grew again, more shining and beautiful than before; but\nthe Princess Royal remained pale, and thin, and was bald to the day of\nher death.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ROOTED LOVER\n\n\nMorning and evening a ploughboy went driving his team through a lane at\nthe back of the palace garden. Over the hedge the wind came sweet with\nthe scents of a thousand flowers, and through the hedge shot glimpses\nof all the colours of the rainbow, while now and then went the sheen\nof silver and gold tissue when the Princess herself paced by with her\nmaidens. Also above all the crying and calling of the blackbirds and\nthrushes that filled the gardens with song, came now and then an airy\nexquisite voice flooding from bower to field; and that was the voice of\nthe Princess Fleur-de-lis herself singing.\n\nWhen she sang all the birds grew silent; new flowers came into bud to\nhear her and into blossom to look at her; apples and pears ripened and\ndropped down at her feet; her voice sang the bees home as if it were\nevening: and the ploughboy as he passed stuck his face into the thorny\nhedge, and feasted his eyes and ears with the sight and sound of her\nbeauty.\n\nHe was a red-faced boy, red with the wind and the sun: over his face\nhis hair rose like a fair flame, but his eyes were black and bold, and\nfor love he had the heart of a true gentleman.\n\nYet he was but a ploughboy, rough-shod and poorly clad in a coat of\nfrieze, and great horses went at a word from him. But no word from him\nmight move the heart of that great Princess; she never noticed the\nsound of his team as it jingled by, nor saw the dark eyes and the\nbronzed red face wedged into the thorn hedge for love of her.\n\n\u201cAh! Princess,\u201d sighed the ploughboy to himself, as the thorns pricked\ninto his flesh, \u201cwere it but a thorn-hedge which had to be trampled\ndown, you should be my bride to-morrow!\u201d But shut off by the thorns, he\nwas not a whit further from winning her than if he had been kneeling at\nher feet.\n\nHe had no wealth in all the world, only a poor hut with poppies growing\nat the door; no mother or father, and his own living to get. To think\nat all of the Princess was the sign either of a knave or a fool.\n\nNo knave, but perhaps a fool, he thought himself to be. \u201cI will go,\u201d he\nsaid at last, \u201cto the wise woman who tells fortunes and works strange\ncures, and ask her to help me.\u201d\n\nSo he took all the money he had in the world and went to the wise\nwoman in her house by the dark pool, and said, \u201cShow me how I may win\nPrincess Fleur-de-lis to be my wife, and I will give you everything I\npossess.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a hard thing you ask,\u201d said the wise woman; \u201chow much dare you\nrisk for it?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnything you can name,\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cYour life?\u201d said she.\n\n\u201cWith all my heart,\u201d he replied; \u201cfor without her I shall but end by\ndying.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said the wise woman, \u201cgive me your money, and you shall take\nyour own risk.\u201d\n\nThen he gave her all.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d said she, \u201cyou have but to choose any flower you like, and I\nwill turn you into it; then, in the night I will take you and plant you\nin the palace garden; and if before you die the Princess touches you\nwith her lips and lays you as a flower in her bosom, you shall become a\nman again and win her love; but if not, when the flower dies you will\ndie too and be no more. So if that seem to you a good bargain, you have\nbut to name your flower, and the thing is done.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\u201cAgreed, with all my heart!\u201d cried the ploughboy. \u201cOnly make me into\nsome flower that is like me, for I would have the Princess to know what\nsort of a man I am, so that she shall not be deceived when she takes me\nto her bosom.\u201d\n\nHe looked himself up and he looked himself down in the pool which was\nbefore the wise woman\u2019s home; at his rough frieze coat with its frayed\nedges, his long supple limbs, and his red face with its black eyes, and\nhair gleaming at the top.\n\n\u201cI am altogether like a poppy,\u201d he said, \u201cwhat with my red head, and my\nrough coat, and my life among fields which the plough turns to furrow.\nMake a poppy of me, and put me in the palace garden and I will be\ncontent.\u201d\n\nThen she stroked him down with her wand full couthly, and muttered her\nwise saws over him, for she was a wonderful witch-woman; and he turned\nbefore her very eyes into a great red poppy, and his coat of frieze\nbecame green and hairy all over him, and his feet ran down into the\nground like roots.\n\nThe wise woman got a big flower-pot and a spade; and she dug him up out\nof the ground and planted him in the pot, and having watered him well,\nwaited till it was quite dark.\n\nAs soon as the pole-star had hung out its light she got across her\nbesom, tucked the flower-pot under her arm, and sailed away over hedge\nand ditch till she came to the palace garden.\n\nThere she dug a hole in a border by one of the walks, shook the\nploughboy out of his flower-pot, and planted him with his feet deep\ndown in the soil. Then giving a wink all round, and a wink up to the\nstars, she set her cap to the east, mounted her besom, and rode away\ninto thin space.\n\nBut the poppy stood up where she had left him taking care of his\npetals, so as to be ready to show them off to the Princess the next\nmorning. He did not go fast asleep, but just dozed the time away, and\nfound it quite pleasant to be a flower, the night being warm. Now and\nthen small insects ran up his stalks, or a mole passed under his roots,\nreminding him of the mice at home. But the poppy\u2019s chief thought was\nfor the morning to return; for then would come the Princess walking\nstraight to where he stood, and would reach out a hand and gather him,\nand lay her lips to his and his head upon her bosom, so that in the\nshaking of a breath he could turn again to his right shape, and her\nlove would be won for ever.\n\nMorning came, and gardeners with their brooms and barrows went all\nabout, sweeping up the leaves, and polishing off the slugs from the\ngravel-paths. The head gardener came and looked at the poppy. \u201cWho has\nbeen putting this weed here?\u201d he cried. And at that the poppy felt a\nshiver of red ruin go through him; for what if the gardener were to\nweed him up so that he could never see the Princess again?\n\nAll the other gardeners came and considered him, twisting wry faces at\nhim. But they said, \u201cPerhaps it is a whim of the Princess\u2019s. It\u2019s none\nof our planting.\u201d So after all they let him be.\n\nThe sun rose higher and higher, and the gardeners went carrying away\ntheir barrows and brooms; but the poppy stood waiting with his black\neye turned to the way by which the Princess should come.\n\nIt was a long waiting, for princesses do not rise with the lark, and\nthe poppy began to think his petals would be all shrivelled and old\nbefore she came. But at last he saw slim white feet under the green\nboughs and heard voices and shawm-like laughter and knew that it was\nthe Princess coming to him.\n\nDown the long walks he watched her go, pausing here and there to taste\na fruit that fell or to look at a flower that opened. To him she would\ncome shortly, and so bravely would he woo her with his red face, that\nshe would at once bend down and press her lips to his, and lift him\nsoftly to her bosom. Yes, surely she would do this.\n\nShe came; she stopped full and began looking at him: he burned under\nher gaze. \u201cThat is very beautiful!\u201d she said at last. \u201cWhy have I not\nseen that flower before? Is it so rare, then, that there is no other?\u201d\nBut, \u201cOh, it is too common!\u201d cried all her maids in a chorus; \u201cit is\nonly a common poppy such as grows wild in the fields.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet it is very beautiful,\u201d said the Princess; and she looked at it\nlong before she passed on. She half bent to it. \u201cSurely now,\u201d said the\npoppy, \u201cher lips to mine!\u201d\n\n\u201cHas it a sweet smell?\u201d she asked. But one of her maids said, \u201cNo,\nonly a poor little stuffy smell, not nice at all!\u201d and the Princess\ndrew back.\n\n\u201cAlas, alas,\u201d murmured the poor poppy in his heart, as he watched her\ndeparting, \u201cwhy did I forget to choose a flower with a sweet smell?\nthen surely at this moment she would have been mine.\u201d He felt as if his\none chance were gone, and death already overtaking him. But he remained\nbrave; \u201cAt least,\u201d he said, \u201cI will die looking at her; I will not\nfaint or wither, till I have no life left in me. And after all there is\nto-morrow.\u201d So he went to sleep hoping much, and slept late into the\nmorning of the next day.\n\nOpening his eyes he was aware of a great blaze of red in a border\nto his right. Ears had been attentive to the words of Princess\nFleur-de-lis, and a whole bed of poppies had been planted to gratify\nher latest fancy. There they were, in a thick mass burning the air\naround them with their beauty. Alas! against their hundreds what chance\nhad he?\n\nAnd the Princess came and stood by them, lost in admiration, while\nthe poppy turned to her his love-sick eye, trying to look braver than\nthem all. And she being gracious, and not forgetful of what first had\ngiven her pleasure, came and looked at him also, but not very long;\nand as for her lips, there was no chance for him there now. Yet for\nthe delight of those few moments he was almost contented with the fate\nhe had chosen--to be a flower, and to die as a flower so soon as his\npetals fell.\n\nDays came and went; they were all alike now, save that the Princess\nstayed less often to look at him or the other poppies which had stolen\nhis last chance from him. He saw autumn changes coming over the\ngarden; flowers sickened and fell, and were removed, and the nights\nbegan to get cold.\n\nBeside him the other poppies were losing their leaves, and their\nflaming tops had grown scantier; but for a little while he would hold\nout still; so long as he had life his eye should stay open to look at\nthe Princess as she passed by.\n\nThe sweet-smelling flowers were gone, but the loss of their fragrant\nrivalry gave him no greater hopes: one by one every gorgeous colour\ndropped away; only when a late evening primrose hung her lamp beside\nhim in the dusk did he feel that there was anything left as bright as\nhimself to the eye. And now death was taking hold of him, each night\ntwisting and shrivelling his leaves; but still he held up his head,\ndetermined that, though but for one more day, his eye should be blessed\nby a sight of his Princess. If he could keep looking at her he believed\nhe should dream of her when dead.\n\nAt length he could see that he was the very last of all the poppies,\nthe only spot of flame in a garden that had gone grey. In the cold dewy\nmornings cobwebs hung their silvery hammocks about the leaves, and the\nsun came through mist, making them sparkle. And beautiful they were,\nbut to him they looked like the winding-sheet of his dead hopes.\n\nNow it happened just about this time that the Prince of a neighbouring\ncountry was coming to the Court to ask Princess Fleur-de-lis\u2019 hand in\nmarriage. The fame of his manners and his good looks had gone before\nhim, and the Princess being bred to the understanding that princesses\nmust marry for the good of nations according to the bidding of their\nparents, was willing, since the King her father wished it, to look upon\nhis suit with favour. All that she looked for was to be wooed with\nsufficient ardour, and to be allowed time for a becoming hesitancy\nbefore yielding.\n\nA great ball was prepared to welcome the Prince on his arrival; and\nwhen the day came, Princess Fleur-de-lis went into the garden to find\nsome flower that she might wear as an adornment of her loveliness. But\nalmost everything had died of frost, and the only flower that retained\nits full beauty was the poor bewitched poppy, kept alive for love of\nher.\n\n\u201cHow wonderfully that red flower has lasted!\u201d she said to one of her\nmaidens. \u201cGather it for me, and I will wear it with my dress to-night.\u201d\n\nThe poppy, not knowing that he was about to meet a much more dangerous\nrival than any flower, thrilled and almost fainted for bliss as the\nmaid picked him from the stalk and carried him in.\n\nHe lay upon Princess Fleur-de-lis\u2019 toilet-table and watched the putting\non of her ballroom array. \u201cIf she puts me in her breast,\u201d he thought,\n\u201cshe must some time touch me with her lips; and then!\u201d\n\nAnd then, when the maid was giving soft finishing touches to the\nPrincess\u2019s hair, the beloved one herself took up the poppy and arranged\nit in the meshes of gold. \u201cAlas!\u201d thought the poppy, even while he\nnestled blissfully in its warm depths, \u201cI shall never reach her lips\nfrom here; but I shall dream of her when dead; and for a ploughboy,\nthat surely is enough of happiness.\u201d\n\nSo he went down with her to the ball, and could feel the soft\nthrobbing of her temples, for she had not yet seen this Prince who\nwas to be her lover, and her head was full of gentle agitation and\nexcitement to know what he would be like. Very soon he was presented to\nher in state. Certainly he was extremely passable: he was tall and fine\nand had a pair of splendid mustachios that stuck out under his nostrils\nlike walrus-tusks, and curled themselves like ram\u2019s horns. Beyond a\nslight fear that these might sweep her away when he tried to kiss her,\nshe favoured his looks sufficiently to be prepared to accept his hand\nwhen he offered it.\n\nThen music called to them invitingly, and she was led away to the dance.\n\nAs they danced the Prince said: \u201cI cannot tell how it is, I feel as if\nsomeone were looking at me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHalf the world is looking at you,\u201d said the Princess in slight\nmockery. \u201cDo you not know you are dancing with Princess Fleur-de-lis?\u201d\n\n\u201cBeautiful Princess,\u201d said the Prince, \u201ccan I ever forget it? But it\nis not in that way I feel myself looked at. I could swear I have seen\nsomewhere a man with a sunburnt face and a bold black eye looking at\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no such here,\u201d said the Princess; and they danced on.\n\nWhen the dance was over the Prince led her to a seat screened from view\nby rich hangings of silken tapestry; and Princess Fleur-de-lis knew\nthat the time for the wooing was come.\n\nShe looked at him; quite clearly she meant to say \u201cYes.\u201d Without being\nglad, she was not sorry. If he wooed well she would have him.\n\n\u201cIt is strange,\u201d said the Prince, \u201cI certainly feel that I am being\nlooked at.\u201d\n\nThe Princess was offended. \u201cI am not looking at you in the least,\u201d she\nsaid slightingly.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d replied the other, \u201cif you did, I should lose at once any less\npleasant sensation; for when your eyes are upon me I know only that I\nlove you--you, Princess, who are the most beautiful, the most radiant,\nthe most accomplished, the most charming of your sex! Why should I\nwaste time in laying my heart bare before you? It is here; it is yours.\nTake it!\u201d\n\n\u201cTruly,\u201d thought the Princess, \u201cthis is very pretty wooing, and by no\nmeans ill done.\u201d She bent down her head, and she toyed and she coyed,\nbut she would not say \u201cYes\u201d yet.\n\nBut the poppy, when he heard the Prince\u2019s words, first went all of a\ntremble, and then giving a great jump fell down at the Princess\u2019s feet.\nAnd she, toying and coying, and not wishing to say \u201cYes\u201d yet, bent down\nand taking up the poppy from where it had fallen, brushed it gently to\nand fro over her lips to conceal her smiles, and then tucking her chin\ndown into the dimples of her neck began to arrange the flower in the\nbosom of her gown.\n\nAs she did so, all of a sudden a startled look came over her face. \u201cOh!\nI am afraid!\u201d she cried. \u201cThe man, the man with the red face, and the\nstrong black eyes!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter?\u201d demanded the Prince, bending over her in the\ngreatest concern.\n\n\u201cNo, no!\u201d she cried, \u201cgo away! Don\u2019t touch me! I can\u2019t and I won\u2019t\nmarry you! Oh, dear! oh, dear! what is going to become of me?\u201d And\nshe jumped up and ran right away out of the ballroom, and up the great\nstaircase, where she let the poppy fall, and right into her own room,\nwhere she barred and bolted herself in.\n\nIn the palace there was the greatest confusion: everybody was running\nabout and shaking heads at everybody else. \u201cHeads and tails! has it\ncome to this?\u201d cried the King, as he saw a party of serving-men turning\nout a ploughboy who by some unheard of means had found his way into the\npalace. Then he went up to interview his daughter as to her strange and\nsudden refusal of the Prince.\n\nThe Princess wrung her hands and cried: she didn\u2019t know why, but she\ncouldn\u2019t help herself: nothing on earth should induce her to marry him.\n\nThen the King was full of wrath, and declared that if she were not\nready to obey him in three days\u2019 time, she should be turned out into\nthe world like a beggar to find a living for herself.\n\nSo for three days the Princess was locked up and kept on nothing but\nbread and water; and every day she cried less, and was more determined\nthan ever not to marry the Prince.\n\n\u201cWhom do you suppose you are going to marry then?\u201d demanded the King in\na fury.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said the Princess, \u201cI only know he is a dear; and has\ngot a beautiful tanned face and bold black eyes.\u201d\n\nThe King felt inclined to have all the tanned faces and bold black eyes\nin his kingdom put to death: but as the Princess\u2019s obstinacy showed no\nsigns of abating, he ended by venting all his anger upon her. So on\nthe third day she was clothed in rags, and had all her jewellery taken\noff her, and was turned out of the palace to find her way through the\nworld alone.\n\nAnd as she went on and on, crying and wondering what would become\nof her, she suddenly saw by the side of the road a charming cottage\nwith winter poppies growing at the door. And in the doorway stood a\nbeautiful man, with a tanned face and bold black eyes, looking as like\na poppy as it was possible for a man to look.\n\nThen he opened his arms: and the Princess opened her arms: and he ran,\nand she ran. And they ran and they ran and they ran, till they were\nlocked in each other\u2019s arms, and lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOOING OF THE MAZE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a beautiful Princess named Rosemary who\nhad all she wanted in the world but freedom. She had riches, and power,\nand glory without end; but above and beyond all these things, her\nbeauty was like the sound of a trumpet.\n\nIf she lifted the veil from her face, or looked out from her window\nat morning as she combed her bright hair, the whole plain at her\nfeet became like an army of banners, and the hillsides dark with the\ngalloping of her suitors.\n\nRejected potentates went clamouring to the four winds of heaven, of her\ncharm and of her cruelty; and the saying went that she had paved the\nfloor of her palace with the hearts which she had broken.\n\nBut she was weary, was weary of saying \u201cNo\u201d to wooers she did not love;\nand often when alone she would cry that her riches and her power and\nher glory might vanish away from her, and her beauty too, save so much\nof it as would win her the heart of the one man she loved, and leave\nher to be tended by his hands, as was her sweet namesake rosemary.\n\nOne day at noon, when it was the middle of summer, she was lying on a\ncouch in the palace watching how the flies\u2019 wings threw a network on\nthe air as they made love to each other and played. It seemed to her so\nlike the net that the swarm of her suitors threw round her day by day,\nthat she caught one of the flies, and to make it more like herself,\nsprinkled it with gold dust so that it shone; then she let it go. But\nto her surprise all the other flies avoided it, and the gilded one went\nabout solitary and alone.\n\n\u201cOh! why then,\u201d she cried, \u201cam I not left free like yonder fly\nsprinkled with gold?\u201d\n\nJust then under the window a young gardener at his work among the\nflowers began singing; and this is what he sang:\n\n    \u201cWhat will I do for my rose of the roses?\n      Build her a window that looks at the sky;\n    Fashion her bower with a door that so closes,\n      No man shall open or enter but I.\u201d\n\nThe Princess waited till the words of the song were ended; then a smile\nbroke over her face; she took up her guitar, and with musically skilled\nfingers played over the air as it had been sung. One by one the clear\nnotes sprang through the open window and fell upon the ears of the\nlistener on the green lawn below. Also her voice took up the air and\nsang:\n\n    \u201cThus, in her heart, saith thy rose of the roses,\n      \u2018Build me a window with heaven for its brow;\n    Fashion my bower with a door that so closes,\n      No man shall open or enter but thou.\u2019\u201d\n\nThat same day the Princess, sitting upon her throne and having crown\nand sceptre in her hands, caused the gardener to be called into her\npresence. The courtiers thought it was very strange that the Princess\nshould have a thing of such importance to make known to a gardener that\nit was necessary for her to receive him with crown and throne and\nsceptre, as if it were an affair of state.\n\nTo the gardener, when he stood before her, she said, \u201cGardener, it\nis my wish that there should be fashioned for me a very great maze,\nso intricate and deceitful that no man who has not the secret of it\nshall be able to penetrate therein. Inmost is to be a little tower and\nfountains, and borders of sweet-smelling flowers and herbs. But the\nman who fashions this maze and has its secret must remain in it for\never lest he should betray his knowledge to others. So it is my will\nthat you should devise such a maze for my delight, and be yourself the\nprisoner of your own craft when it is accomplished.\u201d\n\nThe gardener lifted his head where he knelt, and saw the Princess\nsitting with eyes fast shut and hard-bitten lips, and hands down loose\non either side of her, from which had fallen the crown and sceptre they\nhad held. Then he answered her, \u201cPrincess, by all the might of my craft\nI will be, and it shall be so as you wish.\u201d\n\nNow the Princess gave it out to the world that, being so wooed, she was\nminded to put all men who required her hand to a great test, that so\nhe who deserved her most might win her. Therefore at such and such a\ntime she made it to be known that she would withdraw herself from all\nmen\u2019s eyes to the centre of a great maze strongly knit round by magic,\nand that whoever desired her beauty and could penetrate through all the\ndeceits and dangers of that maze should possess herself and her lands\nand her power, and live in glory of his achievement.\n\nDay by day, out of her palace window, she watched the great maze as\nit grew. Wondrously it wound like a huge serpent, gathering into its\nfold many miles of country--wood and hill and valley, and great pits\nand caverns. And far within rose a small round tower about which stood\nfountains like silver willows blown by the wind; but the door no man\ncould see, for mighty hedges and walls circled all ways about, cutting\noff what was below the eye, so that the inner garden lay hidden like a\nskylark\u2019s nest in the corn.\n\nOne day when the Princess asked, \u201cHow strong is this maze to be?\u201d the\ngardener answered, \u201cAs strong as love.\u201d And when she asked, \u201cHow hard\nwill its way be to find?\u201d he answered, \u201cAs hard as is the foolishness\nof the kings and princes who shall seek thee therein.\u201d Then she laughed\nand was comforted in her heart when the day approached on which all the\nworld was to be parted from her.\n\nOn that day a hundred suitors had gathered to the Court, eager to prove\ntheir prowess and win the most beautiful woman in all the world for a\nbride. At night the palace was ablaze from floor to roof, for there a\ngreat feast was held, at which sat Princess Rosemary, magnificent in\nher beauty and the splendour of her robes and crown. And all the kings\nand princes and lords bent round her with love and worship.\n\nWhen the clocks struck midnight she rose, and all her jewels shone in\nthe fashion of a star, so thickly clustered the eye might not discern\none from other; but from heel to crown they clothed her as in a sheet\nof fire. She passed down the midst of the hall, bowing both ways to\nthe assembly in gracious farewell, and her train as it went from floor\nto floor was as a great retinue following her when she herself had\npassed forth.\n\nShe went from terrace to terrace of garden under great trees where\ntorches and trombones hung, blown by the wind, till she came to the\nentrance of the maze. Then she drew out of her breast a small chart,\nand gazing thereon went as though fate-led out of sight and sound. And\nall the crowd standing without watched the mysterious jewelled train of\nher robe passing in after she was gone, as though itself knew the way\nit had to go and the windings that led into the very heart of the maze.\nA whispered tale went from mouth to mouth that he who had devised and\nfashioned the maze had disappeared--was dead, lest the secret should be\nbetrayed. Some said \u201cPoison\u201d; some said nothing, but shook their heads\ndarkly and seemed wise.\n\nAt the first dawn of day the hundred kings, princes, and knights went\nforth to the wooing of the maze, for there were many paths, and each\none went his own way.\n\nFor many days the doors remained sealed and silent as a tomb, and the\ncrowds that gathered daily to watch began dwindling away, and went back\nto resume their neglected trades. At last the countries whose kings\ndid not return sent ambassadors with messages that became more and\nmore urgent in demanding their presence. They spoke of the balance of\nthrones, and the encroachments of neighbouring powers, and the deaths\nof relatives. These ambassadors went down to the various entrances at\nwhich their masters had been seen to go in, and thence shot arrows at a\nventure with the urgent messages attached to them. But yet none came to\nanswer.\n\nThen the ambassadors were summoned away, for new kings had seized on\nthe vacant thrones, and the return of their predecessors became no\nlonger expedient. People almost forgot at last to trouble their heads,\nsave when fresh suitors came desirous of joining in the great wooing of\nthe maze, the more by reason of its apparent dangers. Then indeed for a\ntime gossips would wait and talk, but afterwards they went away.\n\nMany years went by, and at last there came forth a knight with grizzled\nhair and bowed head. He walked in loops and circles, and his eyes slid\nfrom right to left over the ground at his feet. He seemed crazed, and\nstuttered when he spoke. They asked him how he had fared. He showed\nthem many badges of other knights fastened about his shield and helmet.\n\u201cI overthrew these,\u201d he said, \u201ctill I met one who said, \u2018I am Old Age:\nturn back!\u2019\u201d\n\nThey watched after him with his middle-aged stoop, till he had stumbled\nhis way into his own country. Some remembered him as a gallant young\nknight fifteen years ago.\n\nYet the story went that the wondrous beauty of the Princess did not\nfade; and the people became proud of a legend that spread so great a\ndistinction for their land, and would point to the maze and the far-off\nfountains, and say, \u201cThere waits our beautiful Princess till one come\nworthy to woo her.\u201d\n\nTwenty years had gone by when one day a goodly young Prince, with a\nsmiling countenance, and two long lances slung over his back, made his\nappearance at the palace and demanded admittance to the maze. Half\nthe population streamed out to meet him, for it was many years since\nthe last wooer had come and vanished never to return. The country\nremembered its importance, and gave him a great welcome. \u201cLook what\nlong lances he has!\u201d shouted the crowd. And then the doors of the maze\nclosed on him, and they went back to their work.\n\nWhen the Prince had made some way into the maze, he fastened his horse\nto a tree, took down his lances and--chopped off their points. Lo, and\nbehold! he had turned them into stilts, great high stilts, so that by\nmounting them he could see far away over the windings of the maze into\nthe very heart of it.\n\nFar off he could see the silver glint of fountains like grey willows\nblown slantwise in the wind. That way with a pleasant tune in his heart\nhe straddled merrily along. If he found himself in a blind alley, or\nbeing carried back by the windings of the road, he stood on one stilt\nand went \u201cleg over\u201d with the other; thus his goings prospered.\n\nHere and there, he came upon dead men lying in their armour; some of\nthem were quite old, others had long lances by their sides; they must\nhave been hard of understanding and foolish. He passed them all by.\n\nFor the whole long day he travelled, till towards evening he came upon\na little wood, and saw through the tree-boles the grey stones of the\nlittle tower, and felt on his face the spray of the fountains carried\nby the wind. Also he heard the sound of pleasant voices, and the stroke\nof a spade in the earth.\n\nFree of the wood the path led straight on, till at the end of it,\nover a high hedge, lay a dainty bright garden. A man and a woman were\nbending together over a border of flowers. Their faces were close\ntogether, full of smiles as their hands gathered sprays of rosemary;\ntheir hair was wet with the drift of the fountains.\n\nBoth were in the early middle-age of life, the woman tall and\nbroad-bosomed, her hair like a plaited crown of gold.\n\nThe man, as her face brushed his, laughed and began singing:\n\n    \u201cWhat shall I do for my rose of the roses?\n      Build her a window that looks at the sky,\n    Fashion a door to her bower that so closes,\n      No man shall open or enter but I.\u201d\n\nThe Prince came and looked over the hedge; at the end of the song the\ngardener and his wife had raised themselves; the woman had her face\nresting on the man\u2019s shoulder, and her arms about his waist. As she\nstood, her eyes came straight upon the intruder, who hung a laughing\nhead and shoulders over the garden hedge. Her mouth and eyes went wide\nopen, but breath was wanting for speech. She pinched her husband to\nmake him look round.\n\nThe Prince smiling, addressed them with the utmost courtesy, \u201cGood Sir\nand Madam, can you tell me whether the Princess is at home?\u201d As he\nspoke he lifted a stilt and planted it down on the flower-bed inside.\nOne more stride and he was in. There was a sudden clapping of hands.\n\u201cHe\u2019s a humorist!\u201d cried the gardener\u2019s wife.\n\n\u201cPlease,\u201d said he, as he climbed down from his height and stood once\nmore on his own feet, \u201cplease, I am come for the Princess; and I hope\nshe is not tired of waiting, and is as beautiful, and as young, as\nreport has led me to believe.\u201d\n\nThe gardener\u2019s wife laughed and ran into the tower. Presently from roof\nto floor it was filled with a great rustling sound, and all the windows\nshone with the colour of fire. Then out of the door came a lovely girl\nblazing with jewels and drawing behind her a wonderful great train.\n\u201cHere is your Princess,\u201d said her mother. How beautiful she was, how\nradiant, how young! She came softly towards the Prince, laughing\nand holding out her hand. He took it, and as he did so the whole of\nthe maze disappeared, and only the little tower with its fountains\nremained. So the young couple went back to the palace and were married,\nbut the other couple stayed at home; and there they lived happily ever\nafter.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOON-FLOWER\n\n\nPrincess Berenice sat by a window of her father\u2019s palace, looking out\nof the Moon. In her hand she held a great white pearl, and smiled, for\nit was her mother\u2019s birthday gift. The chamber in which she sat was of\npure silver, and in the floor was a small window by which she could see\nout of the Moon and right down on to the Earth, where the moonbeams\nwere going. There it lay like a great green emerald; and wherever the\nclouds parted to let the moonbeams go through, she could see the tops\nof the trees, and broad fields with streams running by.\n\n\u201cYonder is the land of the coloured stones,\u201d she said to herself, \u201cthat\nthe merchants go down the moonbeams and bring home and sell.\u201d And as\nshe bent lower and lower and gazed with curious eyes, the great pearl\nrolled from her hand and fell out of the Moon, and went slipping and\nsliding down a moonbeam, never stopping till it got to the Earth.\n\n\u201cMy mother\u2019s pearl!\u201d cried the Princess, \u201cthe most beautiful of all her\npearls that she gave me. I must run down and bring it back; for if I\nwait it will be lost. And as to-night is the full-moon down there upon\nEarth, I can return before anyone finds out that I am gone.\u201d\n\nThe Earth was sparkling a brighter green under the approach of night.\n\u201cOh, land of the coloured stones!\u201d cried the Princess; and, slipping\nthrough the window, she stepped out of the Moon, and went running down\nthe same moonbeam by which the pearl had fallen.\n\nNight came; and the Earth and the Moon lay looking at each other in\nthe midst of heaven, like an emerald and a pearl; but through the\npalace, and within, over all its gardens and terraces there began\nto be callings on the Princess Berenice; and presently there were\nheart-searchings and fear, for they found the empty room with its open\nwindow: and the Princess Berenice was not there.\n\nNow, not long before this, upon our own Earth there had lived and died\na King who had four sons, but only three kingdoms. So when he came to\ndie he gave to each of his three eldest sons a kingdom apiece; but to\nthe youngest, having nothing else left to give, he gave only a pair of\ntravelling shoes, and said: \u201cWear these, and some day they will take\nyou to fortune!\u201d\n\nSo, when the King was dead, the young Prince wore the shoes night and\nday, hoping that some time or another they would take him to fortune.\nHis brothers laughed at him, and said: \u201cOur father was wise to play\nthose old shoes off upon you! If it had been either of us we would have\ngone and bought ourselves an army and fought for a just share in the\ninheritance. But you seem pleased, so we ought to be.\u201d\n\nNow one day the Prince went out hunting in the forest, and there,\nhaving become separated from all his friends, he thoroughly lost his\nway. Wherever he turned the wood seemed to grow denser, the thickets\nhigher, and the solitude more than he ever remembered before. Night\ncame on, and, there being nothing else that he could do, he lay down\nand wrapped himself in his cloak and slept.\n\nWhen he awoke it was day, but the woods were as still as death; no\nbird sang, and not a cricket chirped among the grass. As he sat up he\nnoticed that the shoe was gone from his left foot, nor could he see\nit anywhere near. \u201c\u2019Tis the half of my inheritance gone!\u201d he said to\nhimself, and got up to search about him. But still no shoe could he\nfind. At last he gave up the search as useless, and set off walking\nwithout it. Then as it seemed to him so ridiculous to go limping along\nwith only one shoe on, he took off the remaining one, and threw it\naway, saying: \u201cGo, stupid, and find your fellow!\u201d\n\nTo the Prince\u2019s great astonishment, it set off at a rapid pace through\nthe wood, all of its own accord. The Prince, barefoot except for his\nstockings, began to run after it.\n\nPresently he found that he was losing his breath. \u201cHie, hie!\u201d he\ncalled out, \u201cnot quite so fast, little leather-skins!\u201d But the shoe\npaid him no heed and went on as before. It skipped through the grass\nand brushwood, as if a young girl\u2019s foot were dancing inside it; and\nwhenever it came to a fallen tree, or a boulder of rock it was up and\nover with a jump like a grasshopper.\n\nBefore long the Prince\u2019s stockings were nothing but holes and tatters;\nas he ran they fluttered from his legs like ribbons. He had lost his\nhat, and his cloak was torn into patterns, and he felt from head to\nfoot like a house all doors and windows. He was almost on his last\ngasp when he saw that the shoe was making straight for a strange little\nhouse of green bronze, shut in by a high wall, and showing no windows;\nand in the middle of the wall was a bronze door shut fast. As he came\nnear he found that outside, on the doorstep, stood his other shoe as if\nwaiting to be let in. \u201cSo it was worth running for!\u201d thought he; and\nthen, putting on both shoes again, he began knocking at the door.\n\nAs he knocked the door opened. It opened in such a curious way, flat\ndown like a swing-bridge or like the lid of a box. For some time he\nwas half afraid to walk in on the top of it. Presently, however, he\nsummoned up his courage and stepped across it.\n\nThe door closed behind him like a trap, and he found himself in a\nbeautiful house; all its walls were hung with gold and precious stones,\nbut everywhere was the emptiness and the silence of death.\n\nHe went from room to room seeking for any that lived there, but could\nsee no one. In one place he found thrown down a fan of white feathers\nand pearl; and in another flowers, fresh plucked, lying close by a\ncushion dinted and hollowed, as though the weight of a head or arm had\nrested there. But beyond these there was no sign of a living thing to\nbe found.\n\nThrough the windows he saw deep bowery gardens hemmed in by high walls,\nwithin which grew flowers of the loveliest kinds. All the paths were of\nsmooth grass, and everywhere were the traces of gentle handiwork; but\nstill not a soul was to be seen.\n\nIt seemed to the Prince now and then that there was something in the\ngarden which moved, distinct from the flowers, and shifting with a\nwill of its own. Though the sun shone full down, casting clear shadows\nacross the lawns, this that he saw was altogether misty and faint. Now\nit seemed like a feather blown to and fro in the wind, and now like\nbroken gossamer threads, or like filmy edges of clouds melting away in\nthe heat. Where it went the flowers moved as though to make way for it,\nswaying apart and falling together again as it passed.\n\nThe Prince watched and watched. He tired his eyes with watching, yet he\ncould see no more; and no way could he find to the garden, for all the\ndoors leading to it were locked fast and barred.\n\nThere was another strange thing he noticed which seemed to him to have\nno meaning. All over the garden, between the trees and the sky, was\nstretched a silver net, so fine that it showed only as a faint film\nagainst the blue; but a net for all that. Here and there, the light of\nthe sun catching it, hung sparkling in its silver meshes. It was like\nthe net that a gardener throws over strawberry beds or currant bushes\nto keep off the birds from the fruit. So was it with this net; through\nit no bird could enter the garden, and no bird that was in the garden\ncould leave it.\n\nAll day the Prince had these two things before his eyes to wonder\nabout, till the sun went down and it began to get dusk.\n\nAt the moment when the sun sank below the earth there was a sound of\nopening doors all over the house. The Prince ran and found one of the\ndoors leading into the garden wide open, and through it he could see\nthe stir of leaves, and the deep colours of the flowers growing deeper\nin the dusk; only the evening primroses were lighting their soft lamps.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFrom a distant part of the garden came the sound of falling water, and\na voice singing. As he approached he saw something shining against the\ndark leaves higher than the heads of the flowers; and before he well\nknew what he saw, he found before his eyes the most lovely woman that\nthe mind of man could believe in.\n\nIn her hand hung a watering-can, with the water falling from it in\nsprays on to the flower beds beneath. Her head was bent far down, yet\nhow she looked slender and tall! She was very pale, yet a soft light\nseemed to grow from her, the light of a new moon upon a twilight sky.\nAnd now the Prince heard clearly the sweet voice, and the words that\nshe was singing:\n\n    \u201cListen, listen, listen,\n      O heart of the sea!\n    I am the Pearl of pearls\n    I am the Mother of pearls,\n      And the Mother of thee.\n    Glisten, glisten, glisten,\n      O bed of the sea!\n    Lost is the Pearl of pearls,\n    And all the divers for pearls\n      Are drowning for me.\u201d\n\nHe stood enchanted to hear her; but the words of the song ended\nsuddenly in a deep sigh. The singer lifted her head; her eyes moved\nlike grey moths in the dusk, amid the whiteness of her face. At sight\nof him they grew still and large, widening with a quiet wonder. Then\nthe beautiful face broke into smiles, and the Princess stretched out\nher hands to him and laughed.\n\n\u201cHave you come,\u201d she said, \u201cto set me free?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo set you free?\u201d asked the Prince.\n\n\u201cI am a prisoner,\u201d she told him.\n\n\u201cAlas, then!\u201d answered the Prince, \u201cI am a prisoner also, and can\nfree no one; but were I now free to go wherever I would, I should be\na prisoner still, for I have seen the face of the loveliest heart on\nearth!\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d she sighed, \u201cand can you not set me free?\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d he said, \u201cwhat makes you a prisoner here?\u201d\n\nShe pointed to the net over their heads, to the walls that stood on all\nsides of them, and to the ground beneath their feet. \u201cThat,\u201d she said,\n\u201cand that, and this.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d he asked, \u201cand where do you come from? and whose power\nis it that now holds you captive?\u201d\n\nShe led him on to a terrace, from which they could see out towards the\nwest; and there lay the new Moon, low down in the sky. \u201cYonder,\u201d she\nsaid, pointing to it, \u201cis my home!\u201d She wept. \u201cShall I ever return to\nit?\u201d\n\nThe Prince, gazing at her in wonder, cried, \u201cAre you one of a Fairy\nrace?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, oh, no!\u201d she sighed. \u201cI am but mortal like yourself; only my home\nis there, while yours is here. We, who dwell in the Moon, are as you\nare, but the sun has greater power over us; the light of it falling on\nus makes us pale and unsubstantial, so that we weigh not so much as a\ngossamer and become transparent as thin fleeces of cloud. Then we can\ngo where you cannot go, treading the light as it flies; but at sunset\nwe regain our strength, and our bodies come to us again; and we are as\nyou see me now--no different from yourselves, the inhabitants of the\nEarth.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d said the Prince, \u201cof yourself, and the dwellers in the Moon!\nIs it not cold there, and barren?\u201d\n\nShe answered smiling, for the memory of her home was sweet to her,\n\u201cOutside, the Moon is cold and barren; but within it is very warm and\nrich and fertile; more beautiful than any place I have seen on earth.\nIt is there we live; and we have flocks, and herds, and woods, and\nrivers, and harbours, and seas. Also we have great cities built inside\nthe Moon\u2019s crust, for the Moon is a great hollow shell, and we walk\nupon its inner surface and are warm. The sunlight comes to us through\ncraters and clefts in the ground; and the beams of it are like solid\npillars of gold that quiver and sway as they shoot upwards into the\nopal twilight of our world; and the shine and the warmth of it come to\nus, and colour the air above our heads; but we are safe from its full\nlight falling on us, for the ground is between us and it. Only when\nwe pass through to the outer side do we become pale and faint, a mere\nwhisper of our former selves. And then we are so light that if we\nstep upon a moonbeam it will bear our weight; and the moonbeam carries\nus swiftly as its own light travels, till it reaches the Earth: so we\ncome. But to return there is another way.\u201d\n\nAnd when the Prince asked her, she told him of the other way back into\nthe Moon.\n\n\u201cWhen we wish to return,\u201d she went on \u201c(for the falling light of a\nmoonbeam cannot carry us back), we must go where there is a pool of\nstill water and wait for the reflection of the Moon to fall on it; and\nwhen the Moon is full, and throws its image into the water, then we\ndive down, and with our lips touch the reflection of its face, crying,\n\u2018Open, open to me, for I am a Moon-child!\u2019 And the Moon will open her\nface like a door of pearl, and let us pass in; and when she draws her\nreflection out of the pool, we find ourselves once again among our own\npeople and in our own land. Many of us have so come and so returned,\u201d\nshe sighed deeply, \u201cbut I fear that I shall never again return.\u201d\n\nThen the Prince asked her further whose power it was that held her\ncaptive; and she told him how she had dropped the pearl that her mother\nhad given her, and had come down seeking it. Then she said, \u201cIn the\nMoon we have many jewels, for we have opals and onyxes, and pearls and\nmoonstones, but we have no rubies, or emeralds, or sapphires, or stones\nof a single colour, such as you have. Therefore, we have a passion for\nthese things, and our merchants come down and bring them back to us at\na great price.\n\n\u201cNow it chanced that in my search I came upon a gnome who had dealings\nwith our merchants and had many jewels to sell, and he, seeming to be\nkind, helped me until my pearl was found. Then he took me to see his\nown treasures; and, alas, while my eyes were feasting on the colours\nof the stones he showed to me, my poor beauty inflamed the avarice of\nhis evil heart, and the desire to have me for his wife became great. So\nwhen I asked him the price of his jewels, he vowed that the only price\nat which he would let them go was that of my own hand in marriage.\nAlas, I am young and innocent, and without subtlety, nor did I know how\ngreat was his power and wickedness. As I laughed at his request his\nface grew dark with rage, and I saw that I had incurred the undying\nenmity of his cruel heart. And now for a whole year he has held me in\nhis enchantment, striving to break me to his will by the length and\nweariness of my captivity; and lest search or any help should come\nfor me from my father\u2019s people, he has covered me in with a net, and\nsurrounded me with walls; and here there is no pool into which the full\nMoon may fall, and at the mere touch of my lips upon its face, open and\ndraw me free from my enchantment, and back into the heart of my own\nland. Only yonder, in the corner of the garden is a deep well, where\nthe Moon never shines; so there is no way here left for me by which I\nmay get free.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes not the gnome ever come to see you in your captivity?\u201d asked the\nPrince. \u201cIf so, I may by some means be able to entrap him, and force\nhim to let you go.\u201d\n\n\u201cTwice in the year he has visited me,\u201d answered the Princess. \u201cHe comes\nup out of the ground in the form of a Red Mole; but he looks at me\nwickedly and cunningly with the eyes of a man, seeming to say, \u2018Will\nyou have me yet?\u2019 And when I shake my head he burrows under again, and\nis gone till another six months shall be past.\u201d\n\nThe Prince thought for a while and said, \u201cI do not know whether I have\nthe power or the wit to make you free; if love only were needed for the\nwork, to-morrow would see you as free as a bird.\u201d\n\nThe Princess, between smiles and sighs, said, \u201cI have been most lonely\nhere; already you make my imprisonment seem less.\u201d Then she led him\nwithin doors, from room to room, showing him the splendours of her\nprison. Wherever they went, out of the floor before them rose burning\njewels that hung hovering over their heads to light them as they\npassed; and when she struck her hands together, up from the ground rose\na table covered with fruit and dainties of all sorts; and when she and\nthe Prince had eaten, she clapped her hands again, and they disappeared\nby the same way that they had come.\n\nThe Prince was struck with admiration at the delicacy of these marvels.\n\u201cWhen I think of the Red Mole, they sicken me!\u201d said the Moon-Princess.\nThe good youth used all his arts to cheer her, promising to devote\nhimself, and if need be his life, to the task of setting her free. And\nnow and then she laughed and was almost merry again, forgetting the\nwalls that still held her spell-bound from her own people and her own\nland.\n\nShe showed the Prince a chamber where he might sleep; and so soft and\nwarm was the couch after his last hard night on the ground, that it\nwas full day before he awoke. The Princess Berenice appeared before him\nmisty and faint, for the sunlight threw a veil upon her beauty; but\nstill as he looked at her he did not love her less, and it still seemed\nto him that hers was the face of the loveliest heart on earth.\n\nAll day he watched her drifting about the garden, seeming to feed\nherself on the scent of the flowers. In the evening, when the sun set,\nher body grew strong and her face shone out to him like the new Moon\nupon a twilight sky.\n\nThen he drew water for her from the well, and watched her as she\nwatered the flowers which were her only delight. Presently he said,\n\u201cThere is much water in the well, for the rope goes down into it many\nfathoms; and yet I find no bottom.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered the Princess, \u201cI doubt not that the well is deep.\u201d\n\n\u201cBefore many days are over,\u201d said the Prince, \u201cthe well shall become a\npool.\u201d\n\nThe Princess wondered to hear him. \u201cIs there,\u201d he went on, \u201cno such\nthing as a spade for me to dig with?\u201d Then she led him to a shed, where\nlay all the needed implements for gardening. So his eyes brightened,\nwhile he cried, \u201cO, beautiful Princess Berenice, as I love you, before\nmany weeks are over you shall be free!\u201d\n\nThe next morning he arose very early, and in the centre of the garden,\nwhere the ground hollowed somewhat, he marked out a space and set to\nwork to dig.\n\nAll day the Princess went to and fro, faint and pale as a mist,\nwatching him at his work. At dusk her beauty shone full upon him, and\nshe said, \u201cWhat is this that you are doing?\u201d He answered, \u201cWhat I am\nmaking shall presently become a pool; then when the pool is full, and\nthe full Moon comes and shines on it, you shall go down into the water,\nand shall kiss the face of its reflection with your lips, and be free\nfrom your enchantment.\u201d\n\nPrincess Berenice looked long at him, and her eyes clung to his like\nsoft moths in the gloom. \u201cBut you?\u201d she said, \u201cYou are no Moon-child,\nand this will never set you free.\u201d\n\n\u201cEver since I saw you,\u201d said the Prince, \u201cI have not thought of\nfreedom; my dearest wish is but to set you free.\u201d\n\nThe Princess gave him her hand. \u201cAnd mine,\u201d she said, \u201cmy dearest wish\nhenceforth is to set you free also. Yet I know but one way, and I\ncannot name it.\u201d She smiled tenderly on him, and bowed her face into\nthe shadow of her hair.\n\nThe Prince caught her in his arms, \u201cOne way is my way!\u201d he cried. \u201cYour\nway,\u201d she said, \u201cis my way.\u201d Then, when he had finished kissing her,\nshe said, \u201cLook, on my finger is a ring; this ring is for him to whom\nI give myself in marriage. Surely, it opens to him the heart of my own\npeople, and he becomes one of us, a child of the Moon.\u201d She showed him\nan opal ring, full of fires. \u201cIf your way is my way,\u201d she said, \u201cdraw\nthis off my finger, and put it upon your own, and take me to be your\nwife!\u201d\n\nSo the Prince drew off the ring from her finger, and set it upon his\nown; and as he did so he felt indeed the heart of the Moon-people\nbecome his own, and the love of the Moon strike root in him. Yet did\nthe love of the Earth remain his as well, making it seem as if all the\nlove in his heart had but doubled itself.\n\nSo he and the most beautiful Berenice were married there by the\nlight of the new Moon, and all thought of sorrow or danger from the\nencirclement that bound them was lost in their great joy.\n\nDuring the whole of the next day the Prince went on with his digging,\nmaking a broad shallow in the ground. \u201cBefore the full Moon comes,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cI will make it deep.\u201d And he worked on, refusing to take any\nrest.\n\nThe Princess loved him more and more as she watched him; and his love\nfor her daily increased, for every day, while the Moon grew full, her\nbeauty shone in greater perfection and splendour. \u201cHere,\u201d she said to\nhim, \u201cthe coming of the full Moon is like the coming of Spring to me: I\nfeel it in my blood. After the full Moon my beauty will wane and grow\npaler. But in my own land I do not feel these changes, for there it is\nalways the full Moon.\u201d The Prince answered her, \u201cTo me your beauty,\nthough it grows more, will not ever grow less.\u201d\n\nAt last, on the day before that of the full Moon, the pit which he had\ndug was broad and deep; then he began to fill it with water from the\nwell. \u201cTo-morrow,\u201d he said to his wife, when the pool was nearly full,\nas she came and stood by his side at sunset in the full blaze of her\nbeauty, \u201cto-morrow we shall be free; and you will carry me away with\nyou into your own land.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know,\u201d said the Princess; \u201cI begin to be afraid!\u201d and she\nsighed heavily. \u201cAny day the Red Mole may come: one day is not too soon\nfor him to be here.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why need you fear him now?\u201d asked the Prince. \u201cSince you are\nmarried to me, you cannot be married to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs to that,\u201d said she, \u201cI fear that to have outwitted him will but\nmake his malice all the greater against us!\u201d Then she walked softly\namong the moonbeams, bathing her hands in them, and letting them fall\nupon the loveliness of her face; and as she stood in their light, tears\nrained down out of her eyes.\n\nIn the morning it seemed as if her happiness had returned. The Prince,\nas he toiled under the blazing sun, carrying water from the well to the\npool, felt her moving by his side, and heard her light shadowy laughter\nwhen, just before sunset, the water flowed level to the pool\u2019s brink.\nAnd when dusk rose out of the grass, there she stood glowing with the\nfull Moon of her beauty and leaning in all the light of her loveliness\ntowards him.\n\nThe happy night drew round them; out of the East came the glow of the\nfull Moon as it rose; soon, soon it would cross the tops of the trees\nand rest its face upon the quiet waters of the pool. They clung in each\nother\u2019s arms, entranced. \u201cMy beautiful,\u201d said the Prince, \u201cshall we not\ntake to your mother some of those jewels she loves--the green, and the\nred, and the blue, and the pearl which was hers, the quest of which has\ncost you so much?\u201d He ran into one of the jewelled chambers where lay\nthe pearl, and caught from the walls the largest stones he could find.\nQuickly he went and returned, for the Moon was now fast cresting the\navenues of the garden. He came bearing the jewels in his hands.\n\nPrincess Berenice stood no longer by the brink of the pool, though\ntherein lay the image of the Moon\u2019s face, a circle of pale gold upon\nthe water. \u201cBerenice,\u201d called the Prince, and ran through the garden\nsearching for her. \u201cBerenice!\u201d he cried by the well; but she was not\nthere. \u201cBerenice!\u201d His voice grew trembling and weak, and quick fear\ntook hold of him. \u201cO, my beautiful, my beloved, where are you?\u201d\n\nOnly the silence stood up to answer him. Under his feet ran a Red Mole.\n\nIt scampered across the grass, and disappeared through a burrow in the\nground. Then the Prince knew that the worst had surely come, and that\nhis Princess had been taken away from him. Where she was he could not\nknow; within her former prison she was nowhere to be seen.\n\nAll night the Prince lay weeping by the brink of the pool, where she\nhad last stood before his sight; the print of her dear feet still\nlay on the lawn where she had stayed waiting with him so long. \u201cO,\nmiserable wretch that I am!\u201d he cried, kissing the trodden grass. \u201cNow\nnever again may I hope to behold you, or hear your dear voice!\u201d\n\nAll the day following he wandered like a ghost from place to place,\nfilling the empty garden with memories of her presence, and sighing\nover and over again the music of her name. All the flowers glowed\nround him in their accustomed beauty; new buds came into life, and full\nblooms broke and fell; not a thing seemed to sorrow for her loss except\nhimself. As for the flowers, he paid them little heed.\n\nIn his sleep that night a dream came to him, a dream as of something\nthat whispered and laughed in his ear. Over and over again it seemed to\nbe saying, \u201cThe Red Mole came, and the full Moon came, and the Princess\njumped down into the water!\u201d Then his heart knocked so loud for joy\nthat he started awake, and saw the Red Mole scuffling away to its\nborrow in the ground.\n\nThen he feared that the dream was but a thing devised to cheat his\nfancy, and get rid of him by making him go away and search for his\nPrincess in the land of the Moon, by the way that she had told him.\nBut he thought to himself, \u201cIf the Red Mole wants so much to get me\naway, it means that my beloved is somewhere near at hand. Is she in the\nwell?\u201d he began wondering; and as soon as it was light he went to where\nlay the well in its corner under the shadow of the wall. But though he\nsearched long and diligently, there was no trace of her that he could\nfind.\n\nYet every time he came near to the well sorrow seemed to take hold of\nhim, and, mixed with it, a kind of joy, as though indeed the heart of\nhis beloved beat in this place. Near to the well stood a tall flower\nwith bowed head. It seemed to him the only one in the whole garden that\nhad any share in his sorrow: he wondered if the flower had grown up to\nmark the sad place of her burial.\n\n\u201cO, my beloved Berenice, art thou near me now?\u201d he murmured,\nheart-broken, one day as he passed by: then it seemed to him that all\nat once the flower stirred. He turned to look at it; it was like a\nsunflower, but white even to its centre, and its head kept drooping as\nif for pure grief. \u201cBerenice, Berenice!\u201d he wept, passing it.\n\nAt dusk he returned again; and now the flower\u2019s head was lifted up, and\nshone with a strange lustre. The Prince, as he went by on his way to\nthe well, saw the flower turn its head, bending its face ever towards\nwhere he was. Then grief and joy stirred in his heart. \u201cThe flower\nknows where she is!\u201d he said.\n\nSo he bent, whispering, \u201cWhere, then, is Berenice?\u201d and the flower\nlifted its head, and hung quite still, looking at him.\n\nThen the Prince whispered again, \u201cThe Red Mole came, and the full Moon\ncame, and the Princess jumped down into the water?\u201d\n\nBut the flower swayed its head from side to side, and the Prince found\nthat it had answered \u201cNo.\u201d\n\nThen he had it in his mind to ask of it further things; but, as he was\nabout to speak, he beheld its face all brimming over with tears, that\nsuddenly broke and fell down in a shower over its leaves.\n\nAt that his heart leaped, and his voice choked as he cried, \u201cArt _thou_\nmy beloved, my Berenice?\u201d And all at once the flower swayed down, and\nleaned, and fell weeping against his breast.\n\nSo at last he knew! And joy and grief struggled together in him for\nmastery.\n\nAll that night he knelt with the flower\u2019s head upon his heart, stroking\nits soft leaves, and letting it rest between his hands; till, towards\ndawn, it seemed to him that peace was upon it and sleep.\n\nAll through the day it hung faint upon its stem; but when evening came\nit lifted its head and shone in moon-like beauty; and so deep for it\nwas the Prince\u2019s love and compassion that he could hardly bear to be\nabsent from its side one moment of the day or night.\n\nAnd, when he was very weary, he lay down under its shadow to sleep; and\nthe Moon-flower bent down and rested its head upon his face.\n\nAll night long in dreams Berenice came back to him. He seemed to hear\nhow the Red Mole had come, and changed her to a rooted shape, lest the\nfull Moon in the water should carry her away from him back into her own\nland. Yet it was only a dream, and the Prince could learn nothing there\nof the way by which he might set her free.\n\nA month went by, and he said to his Flower, \u201cTo-night is the night of\nthe full Moon: now, if I drew you from the ground, and carried you\ndown, and called for the Moon\u2019s face to open to us, would you not\nbe free from the enchantment, when you were come again to your own\npeople?\u201d But the Moon-flower shook its head, as if to bid him still\nwait and watch patiently.\n\nNow, as the Prince came and went day by day, he began to notice that\nthe Moon-flower had its roots in a small green mound, no bigger than a\nmole-hill; and he thought to himself, \u201csurely that mound was not there\nat first: the Red Mole must be down below at work!\u201d So he watched it\nfrom day to day; and at last he knew for certain that, as time went on,\nthe mound grew larger.\n\nMonth by month the mound upon which the Moon-flower had root increased\nin size; yet the Flower thrived, and its beauty shone brighter as each\nfull Moon approached, so that at last the Prince\u2019s fear lest the Red\nMole were working mischief against its life, passed away.\n\nOnce, on the night of a full Moon, as the Prince lay with his head\nupon Earth, and the Moon-flower bowed over his face, he heard under\nthe mound a peal of silvery laughter; and at the sound of it the\nMoon-flower started, and stood erect, and a stir of delight seemed to\ntake hold of its leaves. Again the laughter came, and the soft earth\nmoved at the sound of it.\n\nThe Prince started up, and ran and fetched a spade, and struck it down\nunder the loose soil of the mound. When he lifted up the earth, out\nsprang a tiny child like a lobe of quicksilver, laughing merrily with\nits first leap into the light. But even then its laughter changed into\na cry; for out after it darted the Red Mole, with fury in its whiskers,\nand wrath flashing out of its eyes.\n\nThe quicksilver child sprang away, darting swiftly over the grass\ntowards the margin of the pool. There lay the full Moon\u2019s image upon\nthe clear stillness of the water; and the child leapt down the bank,\nand laughed as it sprang safely away. Then there followed a tiny\nsplash; and the Prince, amid the rings upon the water\u2019s surface, saw,\nlike a door of pearl, the Moon\u2019s face open and close again. And the\nRed Mole went down into the earth gnashing its teeth for rage.\n\nThe Prince ran back to the Moon-flower, and found it bent forwards\nand trembling with fear. Then he drew its head towards his heart, and\nwhispered \u201cThe Red Mole came, and the full Moon came, and the silver\nchild jumped down into the water!\u201d And at that the Flower lifted its\nhead and began clapping its leaves for joy.\n\nA month went by, and the green mound had disappeared from beneath the\nMoon-flower\u2019s roots; and still every night the Prince lay down under\nthe shadow of its leaves; and the Flower bent over him, and laid its\nhead against his face.\n\nAs he lay so, one night, and watched the full Moon travelling high\noverhead, he saw a shadow begin to cross over it; and he knew that it\nwas the eclipse, which is the shadow of the Earth passing over the face\nof the Moon; then he rose softly, leaving the Moon-flower asleep, and\nwent and stood by the brink of the pool.\n\nUp in the Moon the silver child felt the shadow of the Earth fall upon\nthe face of the Moon; and he came and touched the Earth\u2019s shadow with\nhis lips, crying, \u201cOpen, open to me, for I am an Earth-child!\u201d Then\nthe Earth\u2019s shadow that was upon the Moon opened, and the silver child\nsprang through.\n\nThe Prince, watching the veiled image of the Moon\u2019s face in the water,\nsaw the Earth\u2019s shadow open like a door, so that for an instant the\nbrightness of the Moon shone through, and out sprang the quicksilver\nchild, up to the surface of the pool.\n\nHe leapt laughing up the bank, and went running over the grass to where\nthe Moon-flower was standing. He reached up his arms, and caught the\nFlower by the head.\n\n\u201cO mother, mother, mother!\u201d he cried as he kissed it.\n\nAnd at the touch of his lips the Moon-flower opened and changed,\ngrowing wondrously tall and fair; and the flower turned into a face,\nand the leaves disappeared, till it was the beautiful Princess Berenice\nherself, who stooped down and took the quicksilver child up into her\narms.\n\nShe cried, fondling him, \u201cDid they give you your name?\u201d\n\nAnd the child laughed. \u201cThey call me Gammelyn,\u201d he said.\n\nThe Prince caught them both together in his arms. \u201cCome, come!\u201d he\nshouted and laughed, \u201cfor yonder is the full Moon waiting for us!\u201d And,\nlifting them up, he ran with them to the borders of the pool.\n\nAnd the Red Mole came, and the full Moon came; and the Prince, and the\nPrincess, and the silver child jumped down into the water.\n\nThen the Prince laid his lips against the reflection of the Earth\u2019s\nshadow, crying, \u201cOpen, open to me, for I am a child of the Earth!\u201d\nAnd the shadow opened like a door to let them pass through. Then they\npressed their lips against the reflection of the Moon\u2019s face crying,\n\u201cOpen, open to us, for we are Moon-children!\u201d And the Moon opened her\nface like a door of pearl, so that they sprang through together, and\nwere safe.\n\nAnd when the Moon drew its reflection out of the pool, they found\nthemselves in the land of the Moon, in the silver chamber with the\nround window, in the palace of Princess Berenice\u2019s father.\n\nLooking out through the window, down at the end of a long moonbeam they\nsaw the Red Mole gnashing his whiskers for rage. Then the Prince took\noff his shoes, and threw them with all his might down the moonbeam at\nthe Mole.\n\nAs the shoes fell, they went faster, and faster, and faster, till they\ncame to earth; and they struck the Mole so hard upon the head that he\ndied.\n\nNow as for Gammelyn and the shoes we may hear of them again elsewhere;\nbut as for the Prince and his beautiful Princess Berenice, the\nhappiness in which they lived for the rest of their days is too great\neven to be told.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE KING\n\n\nMany years ago there lived a Queen who could not keep count of the\ncountries over which she ruled. Her wealth and her wonderful beauty\nmade her an apple of discord to all the kings who lived round about her\nborders. For love of her they waged perpetual war upon one another,\nand every King who proved victorious made a gift to the Queen of the\ncountry of the one whom he had conquered, in the hopes of thereby\nstrengthening his claim to her favour. Thus it came about that she\ncould no longer keep count of the lands which had fallen under her\nrule; yet still of all her suitors she chose none.\n\nNow at this time there was one King, and only one, who had not\nsucceeded in losing his heart to the Queen\u2019s majesty, in spite of her\nwealth and power, and all her wonderful beauty. And so, during a long\ntime, since his fancy was thus free, he was left in undisturbed peace\nand prosperity, while other kings fought out their jealous battles, and\nstole away each other\u2019s lands. And because his reign was so quiet and\nhis country in such rest, his people for a pet-name and for their pride\nin him, named him the White King.\n\nNow after a time the Queen took it as an insult that anyone should be\nso indifferent to the power of her charms, and she began to threaten\nhim with war for this reason and for that, wishing thereby to cajole\nhim into becoming her suitor. But the White King saw through all\nthe disguises with which she covered her meaning, and understood the\narrogance of her claim; so one day he sent to her as a gift a statue of\nhimself with his sword sheathed, and all his armour covered over with\nthe cloak of peace. Round the base of it was written\n\n    \u201cWhen a heart in stone doth move,\n    Then your lover I may prove;\n    But until the marvel\u2019s done,\n    Fruitlessly your wars are won.\u201d\n\nThe Queen looked once at the statue, and for a long time after never\nlooked away; and when at last she did her heart had been taken captive.\nThen she looked at the words beneath, and the red flush that rose to\nher face was not gone when the last of her army passed out of the city\ngates to carry war into the country of the man who had dared thus to\nspeak scorn of her.\n\nFor a whole year the White King fought with the forces she sent against\nhim; but when all the other kings came to her aid, then, stronghold by\nstronghold, all his cities were taken, and his lands were laid waste\nand their villages burnt, and nothing but defeat and ruin remained.\n\nYet in the last battle, when his enemies thought to have him a\nsafe prisoner, all of a sudden they found that the White King had\ndisappeared.\n\nBack came the Queen\u2019s armies in triumph with their allies, and the\nconquered territory was added as one more to the many that formed her\nrealm. But the Queen sighed as she looked at the White King\u2019s statue,\nand her triumph grew bitter to her. Day by day, as she looked at the\ncalm marble face, her love for it increased, and she owned sadly to\nherself, \u201cHe whom I have conquered has conquered me!\u201d\n\nOf the lost King himself no tidings could be learned, though search was\nmade far and wide. Minstrels came to the court, and sang of his great\ndeeds in fighting against odds, but of his end they sang variously.\nSome sang that he lay buried beneath the thickest of the slain; others\nthat from his last battle he had been carried by good fairies, and that\nafter he had been healed of his wounds, he would return in a hundred\nyears and recover his kingdom.\n\nOne minstrel came to stay at the court who sang of ruined homes and\nwasted fields, and a happy land laid desolate, and how its King\nwandered friendless and unknown through the world, hiding himself in\ndisguise, sometimes in the cottages of the poor, and sometimes in the\ndwellings of the rich. But from no one could the Queen learn any news\nthat satisfied her or gave hope that he would at last bend down his\npride, and come and sue to her for forgiveness.\n\nWishing to have a hiding place for her grief, she caused the statue to\nbe set up in a green glade in the most lonely part of the gardens; and\nthere often she would go and gaze on the calm noble face (whose closed\neyes seemed even now to disdain her love), and would wonder how long a\nqueen\u2019s heart took to break.\n\nBut after a time she thought, \u201cThough I may never win the love of the\nWhite King for my own, is there no way by which my passion can assuage\nitself, when by lifting my finger I can summon half fairyland to my\naid?\u201d\n\nSo she called to her the most powerful fairy she knew, and taking her\ninto the green glade, began sighing and weeping in front of the White\nKing\u2019s statue. \u201cThis,\u201d she said, \u201cis the image of the only man on earth\nI can love! But the man himself is lost, gone I know not where; and my\nheart is breaking for grief! Give this statue a life and a heart, and\nteach it to love me, else soon I shall surely be dead!\u201d\n\nThe Fairy said to her, \u201cAll the might of Fairyland could not do so\nmuch; but a little of it I can do; and if Fate is kind to you, Fate may\nbring the rest of it to pass.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow much can you do?\u201d asked the Queen.\n\n\u201cThis only,\u201d said the Fairy, \u201cbut even that you must do for yourself.\nI can but show you the way. Stone is stone, and out of stone I cannot\nmake a heart; but a heart may grow into it, and this is the way to\ncompass it.\n\n\u201cYou must find first a man who is loved, but does not love (for if\nhe loves, the statue\u2019s heart when it wakes will turn from you); and\nhim you must kill with your own hand, and take out his heart and bury\nit beneath the feet of the statue. Then I will work my charms, and\ngradually, as a flower draws its life out of the ground, so the statue\nwill draw life out of the human heart buried below. And after a little\ntime you will see it move, and in a little time more its senses will\ncome, and it will be able to hear, and see, and speak. But full life\nwill not come to it until it has learned to love. Then, so soon as it\nlearns to love, it will become no longer stone, but a human being.\u201d\n\nBut the Queen said, \u201cSupposing its love were to turn from me to\nanother, where should I be then?\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely,\u201d said the Fairy, \u201cthe secret will be your own, and the\nwatching of its life as it grows will be yours. Your voice it will\nhear, your face it will see; whom, then, will it learn to love more\nthan you?\u201d\n\n\u201cWait, then, till I have found the man,\u201d said the Queen, \u201cand we will\ndo this thing between us!\u201d\n\nShe searched long among her court for some man whose heart was whole,\nbut who was himself loved. Generally, however, she found it was all the\nother way. There was not a man at the court who was not in love, or did\nnot think himself so; and if there were one who had no thought of love,\nhe was too poor and mean for the love of any woman to be his.\n\nBut one day the Queen heard a minstrel in the palace courtyard singing\nand making merry against love. It was that same minstrel who sang only\nsad songs of the White King\u2019s lands laid waste and himself a wanderer:\na fellow with a dark sunburnt face, and thick hair hanging over his\neyes. And as he sang and rattled his jests at the courtiers who stood\nby to listen, the Queen noticed one of her waiting-women looking out of\na small lattice, who, as she watched the singer\u2019s face, and listened to\nhis words, had tears running fast down out of her eyes.\n\n\u201cIs this a case,\u201d thought the Queen, \u201cof a man who is loved but who\ndoes not love?\u201d\n\nShe sent for the minstrel, and said to him, when he stood bending his\nhead before her, \u201cIs this pretty scorn that you cast on love earnest or\njest?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d he answered, \u201cI jest in good earnest; for to speak of love in\nearnest is to jest about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo,\u201d said the Queen, \u201cyou are heart-whole?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d said the minstrel, \u201cI doubt if a mouse could find its way in;\nand if I am heart-whole in your presence, I ought to be safe from all\nthe world!\u201d\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d thought the Queen, \u201cif only my waiting-woman answers the test,\nhere is the heart I will have out!\u201d\n\nThen she bade the minstrel follow her to where stood the White King\u2019s\nstatue, bidding him sit down under it and sing her more of his rhymes\nabout love.\n\nSo the minstrel crossed his legs in the long grass and sang. His song\nbecame bitter to the Queen\u2019s ears, for he took the words that were\nround the statue, and rhymed them and chimed them, and threw them\nlaughing in the Queen\u2019s face. She hated him so that she could have\npoisoned him; but she remembered that his life was necessary for her\nexperiment to reach its end. So she sent instead for a sleepy wine,\nwhich she gave him to drink, and presently his voice grew thick and his\nhead dropped down upon his breast, and his legs slid out and brought\nhim down level with the grass. When night came on she left him soundly\nsleeping with his head between the feet of the White King\u2019s statue.\n\nThen she sent for the waiting-woman and said, \u201cGo down to the White\nKing\u2019s statue, and find for me my handkerchief which I have dropped\nthere.\u201d But as the girl went, the Queen stole secretly after her, and\nwatched her come to where the minstrel lay asleep.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAnd when the waiting-maid saw him lying so, with his face thrown back,\nshe knelt down in the grass by his side, and putting her arms softly\nabout him, kissed him upon the lips over and over again as though she\ncould never come to an end; and her tears dropped down on to his face,\nand, as if her mind were gone mad for love of him, the Queen heard her\nsighing, \u201cOh, White King, my White King, my Beloved, whom I love, but\nwho loves me not!\u201d\n\nAs soon as the waiting-maid was gone, the Queen came softly to the\nplace, and with a sharp knife she cut out the minstrel\u2019s heart and\nburied it at the base of the statue.\n\nIn the morning the minstrel was found lying dead with his heart gone;\nand when they washed the dead face and put back the hair that covered\nthe eyes, they found that it was the White King himself.\n\nThat day, and for many days after, there were two women weeping in the\npalace: one was the Queen and the other was the waiting-woman. But the\nbody of the White King they buried close by the statue in the green\nglade.\n\nNow presently, when the first violence of her grief was over, the Queen\ncame to look at the place; and, sure enough, the Fairy had been there\nwith her spells. When the wind blew the statue swayed gently like a\ntree in the wind.\n\nThe Queen caused gates and barriers to be put up so that no one should\nenter the glade but herself; only Love found a way, and at night, when\nall the world was asleep, the waiting-woman crept through a loose pale\nin the barriers, and came to moan over the place where her lover had\nbeen slain.\n\nAll night she would lie with her arms round the feet of the White\nKing\u2019s statue, and dream of the dead minstrel whom she had loved and\nknown through all his disguise. And all night long her lips would\nmurmur his name, and whisper over and over again the sad story of her\nlove.\n\nAnd presently, as the statue drew life from the heart buried beneath\nits feet, its ears were opened and it heard.\n\nIn the daytime the Queen would come and sit before it and whisper words\nof love, offering it all the gifts of riches and power that are in the\nhands of kings to give; but at night came the waiting-woman and offered\nit only love.\n\nOut of the ground the Queen saw grow a small plant, that began to creep\nupwards and to wind itself round the base of the statue; and when she\nsaw that its flower was the deadly nightshade, her heart trembled and\nher conscience made her afraid.\n\nBut the waiting-maid, when she saw it, picked the sad blossoms and made\na crown for the statue\u2019s head as of pale amethyst and gold: for she\nsaid to herself, \u201cDown below my dear lies dead, and the roots of this\nflower are in his hair.\u201d\n\nOne day as the Queen came into the glade, she heard the dead minstrel\u2019s\nvoice, and her heart shook with terror as she saw the statue open its\nwhite lips and sing, and recognised the tune and the words as those\nwhich had made her heart feel so bitter against him; for she thought,\n\u201cWhat if he knows that it is I who have slain him?\u201d\n\nNow that she saw that the stone had its five senses, and could see and\nspeak and hear, she pleaded to it all day out of the greatness of her\ngrief and her love. But the statue never returned her a word.\n\nAt night, lying with her face bowed between the White King\u2019s statue\u2019s\nfeet, the waiting-woman knew nothing of all this change; only the\nstatue heard and saw and knew. And at last one day as her tears dropped\non them, she felt the feet grow warm between her hands; and a voice\nover her head that she remembered and loved, said, \u201cLittle heart, why\nare you weeping so?\u201d\n\nIn the morning the Queen came and found the statue gone. There on the\npedestal was only the print of his feet, half covered by the deadly\nnightshade which had climbed up to his knees and fallen. There it lay\nheavy and half-withered, clasping the hollows where his feet had been.\n\nThe Queen knelt down and caught the bare stone pedestal in her arms.\n\u201cOh, Love,\u201d she cried, \u201chave you left me? Oh, White King, my White\nKing, have you betrayed me?\u201d And as she clung there weeping, her lips\ntouched the deadly nightshade; and the nightshade thrilled, and felt\njoy give new life down into its roots.\n\nIt reached up and laid its arms about the Queen, about her throat,\nand about her feet and about her waist. \u201cDearly, dearly we love each\nother,\u201d said the nightshade, \u201cdo we not?\u201d\n\nAt night the courtiers came, and found only a dead Queen lying, and the\nstatue gone.\n\nBut the White King had gone home to his own land to marry the\nwaiting-woman.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PASSIONATE PUPPETS\n\n\nWhen the long days of summer began, Killian, the cow-herd, was able\nto lead his drove up into the hills, giving them the high pastures to\nrange. Then from sunrise to sunset he was alone, except when, early\neach morning, Grendel and the other girls came up to carry down the\nmilk to the villages.\n\nAll day long the cow-bells sounded in his ears, but still the time of\nhis wedding was a long way off; it would be five years before he and\nGrendel could afford to set up a house and farm, with cows of their own.\n\nThe great stretch of world that lay out under him, like a broad map\ncoloured blue and green, made him full of a restless longing to try\nhis fortune. Yonder he could pick out the towns with their spires and\nglittering roofs, and the overhead mists, that gave token of crowded\nlife below. It was there that wealth could be got; and with wealth men\nmarried soon, and were at ease. Somewhere, he had heard, lived kings\nand queens, wearing rich robes and gold crowns on the top of their\nheart\u2019s desire. For kings and queens, he supposed, loved as did he and\nGrendel, regarding nothing else as much in the world besides.\n\nSo Killian, putting heart into his deft hands, set to work.\n\nOne evening Grendel came up from the valley, after her day\u2019s work, to\nhave a look at her lover; she had brought him some brown cakes and a\nbottle of wine. But Killian, who had caught sight of her eyes over the\ngreen rise at his feet, was hiding something behind his back.\n\n\u201cWhatever have you there?\u201d she asked, as she saw chips, and tools, and\nbits of bright foil, lying scattered about the ground. Yet for three\ndays he would show her nothing, only he said, \u201cWhat I do is because we\nlove each other so.\u201d\n\nAt the end of that time, he showed her what he had done. There she saw\na little king and queen, about six inches high; he was in blue, and\nshe in white; and they were both as dear as they were small. The king\nwas partly like a cow-herd, having a crown over his broad-brimmed hat,\nwith thick wooden shoes, and leather-bound legs; and the queen was\nlike Grendel, with great long plaits past her waist, and a gold-worked\nbodice, such as Grendel had for Sunday wear. \u201cAye, aye,\u201d cried Grendel,\n\u201cwhy, it is you and me!\u201d\n\nThen Killian showed her how the joints of the little puppets moved on\ndelicate wires, and how four strings ran up, one from each limb, to be\nfastened to the player\u2019s fingers, so that he might make them act as\nthough life were in them.\n\n\u201cI shall take these down with me to the valley,\u201d said Killian. \u201cFirst I\nshall go about among the villages; then, when I can do better, I shall\ngo to the towns. After that no doubt the kings and queens will hear of\nme, and will send for me to play before them, and I shall become rich.\nThen I shall come home and marry you.\u201d\n\nGrendel thought her lover the most wonderful man in the world, and it\nis the truth he was very clever; she kissed him a hundred times, and\nthe little marionettes also. \u201cAh,\u201d she said, \u201cnow we shall not have to\nwait five years! in five months you will come back rich and famous, and\nwe shall marry, and live happily.\u201d\n\nHow Killian had loved her while making his puppets, only she knew as\nwell as he. Truly, he had put his heart into them, so that they were\nlike living beings,--and so small that their very smallness made them\na marvel. Being a lover, he had put inside each breast a little heart,\nand, for the luck of the thing, had christened them with a drop of his\nown blood, and a drop of Grendel\u2019s; so each heart had in it one little\ndrop of blood. Now he was to go out, and try his fortune.\n\nHe found a lad to come and take his place and see after the cows; then\nhe said good-bye to Grendel, and set off on a round of all the villages\nof the plain.\n\nAt every inn where he put up, he called the country folk together to\nthe sound of his shepherd\u2019s bag-pipes, and showed them his play. It was\nonly himself and Grendel, no story at all, merely lovers parting and\nmeeting again, each believing the other dead, and in the end living\nhappily to the sound of cow-bells, that showed how rich they were in\nherds.\n\nAnd the villagers laughed and cried, and gave him pence, and a night\u2019s\nlodging, and food; so that presently he was able to make himself a\nlittle travelling-stage, and hire a piper to play dance-music for him.\nBut it was always the one story of himself and Grendel, and no other,\nthough the two puppets wore crowns upon their heads.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe little marionettes had hearts. That was the beginning of things:\nthey remembered nothing else. When their eyes had grown open to the\nfact, then for them life had begun. After that they lived like bee and\nblossom, only that the bee never flew away, and the honey remained in\nthe blossom.\n\nHow this came to pass was a question they never asked; why they loved\neach other they did not know. If they had had to think of it they would\nhave said, \u201cIt is because we cannot help it.\u201d And every day one same\nthing happened to them that they could not help, the most beautiful\nthing in life. It came to them by instinct, taking hold of them from\nhead to feet and saying, \u201cLove, love, love,\u201d in all sorts of wonderful\nways.\n\nWhenever this thing happened they began to move about softly, going\nto and fro, and round and round, dancing, and holding each other by\nthe hand, putting their cheeks so close together that their eyelids\nbrushed, and sometimes their little hearts that heaved. And all the\nwhile music from somewhere was giving a meaning to these things; and\nover and over again, \u201cLove, love, love\u201d was what it kept saying to them.\n\nTheir happiness was so great, that they would begin playing with it,\npretending that it was all turned into grief. First he would kiss her\nfrom forehead to chin, and into the hollow of her little throat; and\nthen all down each dear arm, even to the finger-tips; and last of all\nher feet; and again last of all her lips, and again last of all her\nbreast. And then he would go away, walking backwards most of the time,\nor if not, still turning round and round to take another look at her.\nThen when he was altogether out of sight, she would sit down and cry,\nthough all the while he would be peeping at her from his hiding-place,\nto let her know that he was not really gone. Then she would lie down,\nand cry more, and at last leave off crying and stay almost still on a\nlittle bed, that seemed to come to her from nowhere, just when she was\nready to fall on it. Then, at last, she would shut her eyes, and cover\nher face up very slowly with a sheet, and lie so still that he would\ngrow quite frightened, and come running from his hiding-place, and lift\nthe sheet, and look at her; then he would fall down as if his legs had\nbeen cut from under him; then he would get up and throw flowers over\nher, and at last catch her up and begin to carry her; and at that she\nwould wake up all at once and kiss him, to a sound of bells.\n\nThey did not know why they did this; it was so beautiful they could not\nhave thought of it for themselves, and yet it said everything of life\nthat they wanted to say. For love was the beginning and the end of it;\nand always, as they came to the sad part, they had tender tremblings\nfor fear the other should think the sorrow was real: he, lest she\nshould think he had really gone away and left her, never to return; and\nshe, lest he should believe that she always meant to lie so cruelly\nstill, with a sheet over her eyes. Yet the kissings that came after\nmade the fearfulness almost the sweetest thing in their prayer-sayings\nto each other.\n\nFor to them this was a daily prayer, the most solemn thing in their\nlives; heart praying to heart, and hand reaching to hand; and from\nsomewhere overhead gentle monitions as to what they must do next coming\nto them, so that they knew how to pray best, now by lifting a hand, or\nnow by turning the head, or now by running fast with both feet. And\nall this beautiful worship of love their bodies learned to do more\nperfectly day by day; yet the little quaking of fear was still in the\ncentre of it all.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nKillian\u2019s fingers grew nimble; and yet he often wondered to see how\ntrue to life his puppets were, how they sighed, how they embraced and\nclung, as if their hearts were coming in two when the parting drew\nnear. How lingeringly the little queen drew up the sheet over her\nface, when her lover did not return, and let it fall to cover her with\na quiet sigh. Often he cried when she did that part, so like Grendel\nwas it,--the tender waiting, and the last giving in! And then, how the\nlittle king shuddered as he drew the cloth from her face; and how he\nthrew the flowers, as if there were not enough in the world to express\nhis grief! And yet it was only a play, made by the twitching of the\nstrings tied to his fingers, with love as the beginning and end of it.\n\nKillian was getting quite rich in copper coin, so he sent some of it\nhome to Grendel, that she might buy stock for the home that was so soon\nto be theirs. And presently he made bold to go into the towns, where,\ninstead of copper, he might gain silver. He built a bigger stage,\nand had more music to go to the dance; but still it was the story of\nhimself and Grendel, with crowns upon their heads, and nothing more.\n\nAnd now, indeed, people began to cry, \u201cHere is a wonderful new actor!\nHe has it all at the ends of his fingers! What a pity he has no better\nplay in which to show himself off!\u201d But Killian said, \u201cIt is the only\nplay I know how to do.\u201d\n\nPresently there came a sharp fellow to him, who said: \u201cIf you will go\nshares with me I will make your fortune. We have only to put our heads\ntogether, and the thing is done. I will write the plays for you, and\nyou shall play them on the strings. What is wanted is a little more\nreal life.\u201d\n\nKillian was a simple fellow, who believed all the world to be wiser\nthan himself. He was glad enough to meet with a clever fellow who could\nwrite plays for him. His partner wanted him to make new dresses for\nthe marionettes, to suit their new parts; but to that Killian would\nnot agree. So whatever they were they still wore their broad hats and\ncrowns, and their wooden shoes, that still he might watch in his own\nmind himself and Grendel making their way to fortune and happiness.\n\nThe marionettes grew bewildered with their new taking; they did not\nunderstand the meaning of all the coarse things they had to do. So\nin the middle of a play, the little queen would fail now and then in\nher part, and move awkwardly, wondering what her lover meant when he\nsprawled to and fro, and seemed trying to find in the air more feet\nthan he had upon the ground.\n\nYet the crowd found her bashful fear so irresistibly funny, that it\nroared again. Also, when the little cow-herd with the crown on his\nhead, lifted his hand or foot towards his partner, and then shrank\ntrembling away, it roared yet more at the poltroon manner of the thing.\n\nKillian\u2019s partner said, \u201cYou alter all my plays, but the way you do\nthem is something to marvel at. Only, why do you always bring them\nround again to that silly lovers\u2019 ending?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot help it,\u201d said Killian; \u201coften now, with these new plays, I\ncan\u2019t get the strings to work properly. I think the poor puppets are\ngetting worn out.\u201d\n\nHis partner began examining the puppets, and watching how Killian\nplayed them, with more attention; and presently he knew that there was\nmore in it than met the eye. \u201cIt is the puppets who are the marvel, not\nthe man,\u201d he said to himself. \u201cI could work them better myself, if I\nhad practice.\u201d\n\nSoon after this he proposed that they should set off for another town;\nit was the chief town of all, where they hoped at last to be allowed\nto show their plays to the queen herself. \u201cIt must be a real play this\ntime,\u201d said the partner, \u201ca tragedy; but it wants a third person. You\nmust make another puppet, while I write the play!\u201d\n\nSo Killian set to work. But he had no love for the third puppet, which\nwas neither himself nor Grendel, and he put no heart inside it, and no\nlittle drop of blood. So the new marionette was but limbs, and a head\ndrawn on wires.\n\n\u201cSoon,\u201d thought Killian, \u201cI shall be rich enough to go home and marry\nGrendel. Then I will throw this stupid third one away; but the other\ntwo we will always keep close to the niche with the statue of Our Lady,\nto help to make us thankful for the good things God gives us in this\nworld.\u201d\n\nIt was beautiful late spring weather when he and his companion set out\nfor the capital. On the way Killian\u2019s partner told him the play that\nwould have to be played before the queen, and said, \u201cIn case three\nshould be too much for you to manage, you had better teach me also to\nhandle the strings.\u201d So Killian began to teach him, with the two little\nmarionettes alone, the first play which he had brought down with him\nfrom the mountains,--that being the easiest of all to learn, and the\none he loved best to teach.\n\nThe partner was surprised to find how wonderfully the puppets followed\nthe leading-strings; in spite of his clumsiness the story acted itself\nto perfection.\n\nSimple-hearted Killian was charmed. \u201cAh! you clever townsman,\u201d said\nhe, \u201csee how at first trial you equal poor me, who have been at it for\nmonths! It had better be you, after all, to do the play when it is\ncalled for at the court.\u201d And this Killian proposed truly out of pure\nmodesty, but also because he did not like the play his partner had made\nfor him. \u201cIt is too cruel a one!\u201d he said. \u201cAfter they have played it\ntogether so long, I feel as if my two puppets can do nothing else so\nwell as love each other, and live happily.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, but,\u201d said his partner, \u201cthe queen would find that very dull!\u201d\nKillian could not see why; but he believed that the townsman was wiser\nthan himself, and gave in. All he wanted now was to get money enough to\nrun back home with, and throw himself into his dear Grendel\u2019s arms for\nlife.\n\nSo they journeyed on, and at last, one day, they came in sight of the\ncapital. But it had been such a long way to come that when they reached\nthe gates they found them shut.\n\nThe night was warm, and a high moon was overhead. \u201cCome,\u201d said Killian,\n\u201cand let us lie down in one of these orchards that are outside the\nwalls!\u201d So they left the high road, and went and lay down.\n\nFirst they ate some food that they carried with them. Then Killian\nopened the case in which lay the two marionettes, and looked them over\nto see that they were in working order. His partner took up the odd\nnumber, and began practising it; but Killian\u2019s attention all went to\nthe little king-cowherd and his queen.\n\nHe fondled them gently with his hands, and as he looked at them his\nheart went up into the mountains to pray for his dear Grendel.\n\nPresently he began dreaming to himself like Jacob, only his dream was\njust of the simple things of earth. Down the great green uplands came\ntroops of white cattle; but to him they seemed to be bridesmaids coming\nto Grendel\u2019s wedding day, and the ringing of the cow-bells was as\nsweet to him as the songs of angels. Before he was fast asleep the two\nmarionettes had slipped off his knee and lay in the deep grass looking\nup at the sky.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThey had never seen so beautiful a sight before, for never had they\nspent a night in the sweet open air till now. Over their heads swung\ndusky clusters of blossom, that would look white by day; and over them\nthe moon went kissing its way from star to star.\n\nNow and then single blossoms dropped as if they had something to say to\nthe little cow-herd and his queen, lying there in the cool grass.\n\nBut the marionettes said nothing; their hearts were very full; now, at\nlast, they found their old happiness return to them. Their prayers,\nthat they used to say to each other so tenderly, had been going wrong\nfor quite a long time; sudden starts and tremblings of fear had taken\nhold of their light-hearted deceptions of each other; and every day\nthings had been going worse. But now they felt like entering upon a\nlong rest.\n\nAs they lay, their hands met together. The little cow-herd could count\nher fingers across the palm of his hand, and never once did she pretend\nto be drawing them away. How good it all seemed!\n\nClose by them the odd man was strutting in stiff, ungainly attitudes,\ncricking his neck and elbows, and tossing up his toes. How foolish he\nseemed to them in their innocent wisdom! They knew he was nothing to\nthem, for he had no heart; he was nothing but a trick on springs. Yet\nthey wished he would go away, and give them room to be alone, while the\nmoon was making a white dream over their lives.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe partner grumbled to himself at the awkward ways of the new\npuppet. Instead of obeying, it kicked at the leading strings, and did\neverything like a stick, all angles and corners. Presently he put\nit back into its box; and then he saw the little king and queen lying\ntogether on the damp grass. He picked them up, growling at Killian as\na simpleton, for leaving them there to get rusty with the dew. Then he\nput them also away, and curled himself up to dream about the success of\nhis play on the morrow.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nQuite early in the morning he and Killian went into the city, and set\nup their stage in a corner of the market-place. The wonderful acting\nof the little king and queen, compared with the ungainly hobblings\nand jerkings of the odd man, threw the townspeople into ecstasies of\nlaughter. They declared they had never seen so funny a sight in their\nlives as the beautiful nervous acting of the pair, side by side with\nthe stiff-jointed awkwardness of the other.\n\nPresently, sure enough, the queen heard tell of this new form of\nentertainment, and sent word for the mummers to appear at the palace.\n\nKillian said to his partner: \u201cThere is something the matter with the\npuppets to-day; they want careful handling. I am glad we settled that\nyou are to do the new play; for, before the queen and her great ladies,\nI am likely to lose my head.\u201d\n\nAll the court was gathered together to watch the puppet-play, while\nbehind the scenes the partner took all the leading strings into his own\nhands.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe two marionettes opened their eyes, and saw daylight; they began\nmoving to and fro softly; every now and then they put their faces\ntogether and kissed. The stupid odd man seemed to have gone; they were\nso glad to be left alone.\n\nSoon the little king lay down, pretending to be tired, but it was only\nthat he might put his head in the queen\u2019s lap. She bent over him, and\nlaid her fingers on his eyes, seeming to say, \u201cGo to sleep, then! I\nwill shut your eyes for you.\u201d How pretty it was of her!\n\nThen she covered his face over with her handkerchief; and all at once\nin came the odd man, walking on the points of his toes. The little\nking, now that the handkerchief was over his face, opened his eyes, and\nlooked through it, to see what his dear queen would be doing now. The\nodd man had his arms round her neck, and was kissing her, and the queen\nlooked as if she were going to kiss him back; but all at once she had\npushed away the odd man so hard that he fell down with his heels in the\nair; and then she snatched the handkerchief from the king\u2019s face, and\nbegan trembling, and kissing him.\n\nThe whole of the court shouted, first with laughter at the odd man\u2019s\nfall, and then with admiration at the wonderful acting of the little\nqueen.\n\nBehind the scenes the partner began grumbling to Killian: \u201cThey are\ngoing all wrong! It\u2019s all your doing, leaving them to lie in the damp\ngrass last night!\u201d\n\nBut still the whole court shouted and applauded. So the play went on;\nand now, more and more, the showman had cause to grumble. Whenever he\ncame to a part where the play required that the queen should turn from\nher own cow-herd to the ugly odd man, everything went wrong. \u201cVery\nwell,\u201d thought he at last, \u201cshe may be as innocent as Desdemona but it\nwill all come to the same at the last!\u201d\n\nAnd so, still more, as the play went on, the little marionettes\ntrembled and shook with fear. They wished the silly odd man would go\naway, and not come interrupting their prayers; and all the while they\nloved each other so! No idea of jealousy ever entered the little king\u2019s\nhead; and as for the queen, if the odd man came and put his arms round\nher neck and kissed her, could she help it? All she could do was to run\nand put her arms round her own lover when he reappeared; and how the\ncourt shouted and applauded, when she went so quick from one to the\nother.\n\nAt last the final act was begun; the king came running in with a sword\nin his hand, why, he did not know, until he saw his poor little queen\nstruggling in the arms of the odd man. \u201cAh,\u201d thought he, \u201cit is to\ndrive him away! Then we shall be by ourselves again, and happy.\u201d\n\nNo one ever fought so wonderfully on a stage before as the little\ncow-herd. All the court started to their feet, shouting; and still,\nwhile they shouted, they laughed to see the impossible odd man scooping\nabout with his sword, and jerking head over heels, and high up into the\nair, to get away from the little king\u2019s sword-play. The partner had to\nkeep snatching him up out of harm\u2019s way, for fear of a wrong ending.\nThen, suddenly he let him come down with a jump on the little king\u2019s\nhead. And at that the king fell back upon the ground, and felt a sharp\npain go through his heart.\n\nThe odd man drew out his sword and laughed; on the end of it was a tiny\ndrop of blood. The poor little queen ran up, and bent down to look in\nher lover\u2019s face, to know if he were really hurt. And then a terrible\nthing happened.\n\nThree times the little king raised his sword and pointed it at her\nheart, and dropped it again. And all the time the partner was tugging\nat the strings, and swearing by all the worst things he knew.\n\nThe little king felt himself growing weak; he was very frightened. He\nfelt as if he were going away altogether, and leaving her to think he\ndid not love her any more. And still his arm went up and down, pointing\nthe sword at her heart.\n\nThe showman tugged angrily; then there was the sound of a wire that\nsnapped--the king had thrown away his sword.\n\nHe reached up his two arms, and laid them fast round the queen\u2019s neck.\n\u201cNow at last she knows that I have not left off loving her.\u201d He felt\nher drawing herself away, he held her more and more tightly to his\nbreast; and now her little face lay close against his. Nothing can take\nher away from him now!\n\nThe showman pulled violently with all his might, to get her away; there\nwas a snapping of strings, and then--the queen reached out two weak\nlittle hands, and laid them under her lover\u2019s head.\n\nThey lay quite still, quite still for a long time, and never moved.\n\u201cThe play is over!\u201d said the showman, disgusted and angry at the wreck\nof his plot.\n\nSuddenly the whole stage became showered with gold; the great queen and\nall her court threw out showers of it like rain. It fell all over the\ntwo marionettes, covering them where they lay, just as the babes in the\nwood when they died were covered over with leaves.\n\nKillian dropped his head on to the boards of the little stage, and\nsobbed. The partner let down the curtain, and began gathering up the\ngold.\n\nAnd still, from without, the queen and her court clapped, and cried\ntheir applause; and still within lay Killian with his head upon the\nstage, sobbing for the two little marionettes, lying still with all the\nsprings and strings of their bodies quite broken. Inside, though he\ncould not see them, their hearts were broken also. \u201cNow,\u201d he thought,\n\u201cI must go back to Grendel, or I too shall die!\u201d\n\nLater, in the middle of the night, the partner went away, carrying\nwith him all the gold that the little marionettes had earned by their\ndeaths. And these, indeed, he left, seeing that they were useless any\nmore. But to Killian, when he woke the next morning, they were the only\nthings left him in the world, to take back to Grendel.\n\nHe took them just as they were, locked in each other\u2019s arms, and went\nback all the long way to Grendel, up into the hills of his home, as\npoor in money as when he first started.\n\nBut Grendel saw that he had come back rich; for his face was grown\ntender and wise. And for five years they waited very patiently\ntogether, till by cow-keeping he had earned enough for them to keep\nsome cows of their own, and to live in married happiness.\n\nThe little marionettes they put on a shelf, beneath the cross, and the\nstatue of our Lady; and there, locked in each other\u2019s arms, those two\ndisciples and martyrs of love lie at peace, feeling no pain any more in\ntheir broken hearts.\n\n\n\n\nKNOONIE IN THE SLEEPING PALACE\n\n\nJust when the palace fell into its deep sleep, the porter\u2019s son had run\nout to follow a swarm of bees which had flown over the fish-ponds into\nthe woods lying outside the royal demesne. In the very minute after\nhe had climbed the wood-pales, to the time when the shifty swarm came\nswinging its long bright tangle for home, calling on him to retrace\nhis pursuit, sleep had clapped down like a great eyelid over the whole\npalace.\n\nKnoonie made a clear leap over the palings into the royal clover; and\nthen felt something hurting his heart, he could not know what or why,\nvery strange, very frightening; it was like waking up all alone in\nthe middle of a dark night, and feeling that something was standing\nquite still in the silence before him--quite still, because he himself\nhad moved. He took one step forward, and at that sprang aside as if a\nsnake were under him: his foot had made no sound in the clover! Then,\nthinking his ears must have deceived him, he tried once more. Ah! now\nit was so frightful that his courage went utterly: \u201cHelp, help!\u201d he\ncried with all the force of his lungs: but his voice gave no sound. The\ndead silence that weighed on his struggles to cry, drove him wild with\nterror.\n\nHe set off running as if Death were after him: running like a blind\nthing; and knew nothing more till he fell half-stunned and bleeding\ninto the gateway of the palace-courtyard.\n\nHe sprang, and tapped with his hand on the porter\u2019s wicket. \u201cFather,\ndear father, open quick!\u201d he cried. But the words fell mute, and the\nwicket did not open. Then he began beating with his fists on the bronze\npanels, and, seizing hold of the knocker, battered for dear life.\nFor dear life! But dear reason almost died in the attempt. The great\nbronze knocker beat without making a sound. He stopped his ears with\nhis fingers to get rid of the stillness which was so terrible: and then\nat last he began to think that while in the wood he must have gone\nstone-deaf. But he was frightened; though he was deaf, others surely\nshould hear him: again he beat and beat upon the knocker, throwing his\nwhole weight upon it, and cried with the tears running down his face\nfor his father to come to him.\n\nSurely somebody must come. No, all was quite still as well as silent:\nnothing moved: everywhere it was the same. There was a sentry on guard\nover the gate: Knoonie could see his helmet and the top of his halbert\nshining in the sun. He cried to him to come down and let him in; but\nthe man stood so still that he began to think he must truly have lost\nthe power of speech as well as of hearing. He stooped down, and taking\nup a stone, threw it at the soldier to make him turn round; moving away\nfrom the wall so as to get a better aim, he was able to see more of\nhim. The sentry stood very strangely; he must be asleep or sun-struck,\nfor a small green paroquet had come and perched on his shoulder.\n\nThe fifth stone Knoonie threw (for fear had made his hand tremble) hit\nthe soldier on the head; and yet he did not wake up, and the strange\nlittle paroquet remained as if stuffed and glued to its perch.\n\nThen Knoonie, casting his eyes all round for anything to help, saw a\nnew sight. All down the broad avenues of the park a movement was taking\nplace from the earth upwards: it came nearer and nearer: it was like a\ngreen army on the march: it waved long prickly spears and many-pointed\ncrests, and sent green things like lizards swarming into the high\ntrees that stood in its way. Up and up, closer and higher to the very\ngates of the palace it came--a wall of thistles, magic in strength and\nstature, over-ranked by beetling heads of hemlock, and under-run by\nlong snakey loops of bramble, that writhed in and out of the earth like\nhuge worms.\n\n\u201cI must be dreaming!\u201d thought Knoonie for a way out of his distress.\n\u201cIt\u2019s all one horrid dream which will come to an end just as the worst\nthing happens.\u201d But the giant thistles came crowding close, reaching\nhungry hands at him. He caught hold of the knocker, and dragging\nhimself up was able in his terror to force open the wicket, and work\nhis small body through, just as the first thistle caught him by the\nleg. He escaped shoeless and with all his hose torn into ribands from\nthe knee. Inside he came upon his father, sitting in his accustomed\nniche, keys in hand, sitting quite still with head bent and closed eyes.\n\nThe child began to tremble and cry; he forgot any longer to think it\nwas a dream; a remembrance like the touch of dead lips chilled his\nheart: the remembrance that while his father had been sitting there\nalmost within reach of his hand, he, Knoonie, had cried and beaten\nwith all his force upon the door, and had not been heard. He threw his\narms round his father\u2019s neck, and clinging close to the deaf face he\nloved: \u201cFather, father,\u201d he cried, \u201cwake!\u201d But his words had no sound,\nand the porter made no sound or stir.\n\nDead, dead! Knoonie threw up his hands, and trying vainly to utter one\ncall for help, darted into the palace.\n\nAfter a long time, he came out again with a white face, looking dazed\ninto the sunlight: what was it he had seen in there? Beautiful lords\nand ladies, still as death, smiling and bending over golden plates and\nhalf-tasted wine; serving men who stood upright and still as death,\ncarrying dishes and tilting out the wine into great tankards; and, over\nall, the yellow sunlight streaming in licked the dead faces as a beast\nlicks carrion.\n\nHe ran tottering over the marble pavement, as fast as fear would send\nhim; to get away out of the palace and fetch help for all these dead or\ndying people: for there must still be somebody left somewhere. But when\nhe came to the porter\u2019s lodge, there was a sight in the wicket that\nstopped him: the small square aperture was bulged through by thistle\nand bramble, in the midst of which his little shoe hung trussed and\nskewered; the hard grasp of the thistles had bent it out of shape, and\nthe thorns of the bramble had cut into the leather like the steel teeth\nof a trap. Looking through, he could see nothing but one dense forest\nof thistles, made the more impassable by a thick mesh of creepers that\nclung about their stems. He climbed up on to the walls: everywhere\nwas the same; those death\u2019s heads of hemlock had grown higher than the\ntrees of the park, and threw their shadows over the whole palace.\n\nSlowly, the meaning of the horror which had first been so impossible\nfor his mind to take in grew clear to his imagination. The sleeping\npalace, that whispered tale of his childhood, was embodied before him;\nand of all those who had heard it told, and laughed it lightly away\nbecause every day brought sameness of life to each sense, he alone\nwas left awake to drink the full cup of this sleep of doom, he alone,\namid others unconscious of their arrested life, with all the ways\nof knowledge closed from him by an overwhelming silence, he and he\nonly must live and move, and endure this living tomb, till the Prince\nRescuer should come, of whom the same tale gave promise. The great\npalace where he had been such a little thing at everybody\u2019s beck and\ncall, one for the grooms to tease, and for maids and serving-men to\nharry, was his own possession now, to do in what he would; but no joy\ncame to him with this growing sense of a strange liberty. He went from\nplace to place, tiptoeing at first, hardly daring to enter those grand\nchambers where the king and his great lords were sitting in state; but\nthe lords-in-waiting stood making way for him with closed eyes; and he\nmight see and touch and taste whatever he chose.\n\nHe went and stood behind great ladies, and stroked their shining hair,\nand touched their white wondrous throats, and the strong hands of the\nknights, the King\u2019s even, with its gold signet ring; but there was no\njoy in any of these things. And when hunger came on him he put out\nhis hand and helped himself from the King\u2019s plate: yet though he had\ntasted no such delicacies in his life before, they gave him no pleasure\nnow. He looked at all the beautiful ladies with their sweet-smiling\nlips, and remembered how he had thought that to be kissed by them would\nbe almost death, so great must be the delight. Now he climbed up to the\nsweetest of them all, and tried to imagine her as the mother he had\nnever known; yet when he kissed, and saw how the lips went smiling on,\nit was such bitterness that the tears burst from his eyes, and fell\ninto the velvet lap of her dress. He caught up a napkin, \u201cFor when\nshe wakes up she will see what a mess I have made and be angry,\u201d he\nthought: then he remembered the hundred years, and cried still more.\n\nAt last, when it began to get dark, weary with sorrow, and drawn\nthither by a growing fear of his loneliness, he went back to the gate,\nand there, kissing him, lay down with his head on his father\u2019s knee,\nand clinging to the hand that had hold of the keys of his prison, wept\nhimself to sleep. Ah! how happy would he be if sleep would join his\nlot to theirs, and his eyes never open again till the whole day of\ndeliverance was come. Alas! that the bees should have led him beyond\nreach of the charm which would have brought sleep, and only back to be\nenclosed in the impenetrable embrace of that thorny fastness.\n\nThe next day\u2019s sun shone down and opened Knoonie\u2019s eyes; and he rose\nup into the life-long silence that encompassed him; and, kissing\nhis father\u2019s face, went forth into the joyless splendours of his\nprison-house.\n\nThis day he climbed all the towers, and strained his eyes for a glimpse\nof the great unsleeping world beyond. But high and far the forest of\nthorns had stretched itself; and he could only see here and there the\nblue of the most distant hills through gaps of thicket.\n\nThen he went down, and sought out all his old acquaintances, the\nstable-boys who played with him, the grooms who bullied, and the maids\nwho teased. He came face to face with the terrible head-cook, who had\nso many times threatened to beat him to a jelly; now Knoonie could have\nboxed the tyrant\u2019s head off, and no hand would be there to stay him;\nbut he only stood and looked at the big grim face and the closed eyes,\nand longed hungrily for a blow from that coarse red fist.\n\nHe went on to the stables; and now who was there to forbid him his\nheart\u2019s desire to climb on to the back of the King\u2019s great charger, who\nstood sleeping with beautifully arched neck: yet when he had clambered\nhis way up by the manger, it was no pride to him to be there: he only\nbowed his face down into the black mane and wept.\n\nThat same day he found the Princess sleeping in her chamber;\noh! so beautiful she was with her little white hand laid on the\nspinning-wheel, a small prick of scarlet showing on the delicate skin.\nSo beautiful she was, he dared not kiss her yet, for he did not know\nthat anyone who could win entrance into the sleeping palace, could\nby kissing the Princess break the charm and gain her for his bride.\nAlready more than one brave knight had entered that vast forest of\nthorns and thrown away his life in striving to get to those lips which\nwere Knoonie\u2019s for a little stooping. But he was a child and he did not\nunderstand.\n\nThe days went by, the weeks went by, and the child fell in with ever\ndeepening sadness to the loneliness of his environment. His wistful\nface grew beautiful and pure in that still air, and the picture of\ncourtly life that encircled his lent him an unconscious grace. Yet\nhe stayed humble and sad, and every night, leaving beds of down and\npillows of lace untouched, went back to kiss his father\u2019s face and lie\nwith his head on his knee. As for food, that great palace held stores\nwhich would suffice him through many lives; and during the magic sleep\nnothing changed or decayed: even the milk stayed fresh through the many\nyears to come; a hundred shining pails of it standing in the king\u2019s\ndairy.\n\nThe weeks, the months, even the years went by; but the child forgot the\npassing of time; and the less and less of a child, retained the child\u2019s\nheart still, lonely and sad; with a child\u2019s will and brain, with the\nmemory of its childish prattle dying away, and no words or thoughts of\na growing man to take its place; and amid that sleep of dreamless men,\nwhere even the thought of evil did not enter, his heart was left to\nhim, gentle, simple, and pure.\n\nEvery night at his father\u2019s knee Knoonie knelt and said his evening\nprayer, and slept well, with the porter\u2019s hand in his. Years made his\nbody fair and of a slender strength, and through the deep silence he\ngrew tall. And he would go and look at the sweet-faced women, and\nwonder why he sighed, and why it was so sad to kiss their lips that\nsmiled and yet cared nothing--so sad that as years went on he left\noff from that which seemed to put a double silence on his life, the\npain being too keen for his heart. And then he would go and look at the\nPrincess whose lips he had never kissed: and that seemed the saddest\nthing of all.\n\nStill years went on, and his mild mute life bore him very slowly on\nto age: and still night by night, a young man once, and then a man in\nhis full prime, and then a man with grey hair showing on his head, and\nthen a man beginning to bend down with age, went and said his childish\nprayer, and kissed his father\u2019s face, and slept with his head against\nhis father\u2019s knee.\n\nVery gently had life cradled him to age when a hundred years came\nround: he had lost all knowledge or thought of speech, save that one\nform of daily use, and his silver-grey face was a reflection of the\nspirit that brooded over the sleeping palace.\n\nThe great day came when all the palace clocks, and the sounds of\nspeech and laughter woke back to life. The thorns and thistles\nhad disappeared, dropping a child\u2019s shoe for luck over the palace\nthreshold: the Prince had come and broken the spell. The cook was\nscreaming that a hundred cats had been at the cream.\n\nIn a far-off corner of the palace Knoonie heard, and knew what these\nsounds meant, and his heart trembled for joy: but it was so very\nterrible! To him the pain, the bewilderment, the multitude of sights\nand sounds made this renewed life an agony past knowing; he was so\ngiddy he could only creep hand over hand along the wall towards the\ngate where his father sat. Now his one thought was to see his father.\n\nAs he came under the archway, the porter took him by the shoulder\nroughly, and turned him out of doors. \u201cWe want no naked old mendicants\nhere.\u201d\n\nKnoonie found no words to say; he just walked on and on, a beautiful\nbowed down old man, bespoken of none, until one night he knocked at a\ndoorway in fairyland, and there with me found contentment and a home.\n\n\n  _Printed in Great Britain by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld.,\n  London and Aylesbury._\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\nHyphens restored in \u201cwill-o\u2019-the-wisp\u201d (page 26) and \u201cFire-eaters\u201d\n(page 88). All other inconsistencies in hyphenation have been left\nunchanged.\n\nPage 145: Extraneous quotation mark in \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d removed.\n\nPage 171: Typo \u201cPrincesss\u201d corrected.\n\nMissing puncutation restored: \u201cout of his heart.\u201d (page 113); \u201ckissed\nthe hand,\u201d (page 131); \u201ctry his fortune.\u201d (page 192).\n\nSome illustrations have been moved from the original positions for\nreadability.","title":"A doorway in Fairyland","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":50451}